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bubbledumbbinch · 3 years

Note

Some oral headcanons for Riddle, Idia and Epel (if you write smut for him). Both giving and receiving please 🔥🔥

Woohoo!!!! First ask EVER!!!! I hope u enjoy it aaaah, the reader in this scenario has no specific pronouns but fem body parts, since that’s what I’m most comfy writing with rn ;v; i will try to keep getting better the more i write!

A/N: This piece of writing is purely 18+ only. Minors do not interact.

Riddle Rosehearts x Reader

Giving

Riddle has never given oral, but he is fueled by his desire to please you!!

He offers it as some kind of reward for doing so well on an exam he helped you study for

Now, Riddle has certainly passed by the human anatomy images in textbooks and read about each person’s sexual body parts, learning about it in a very educational way. He usually blushed when he looked at the detailed images and quickly turns the pages.

Riddle would have researched different ways on how to please you before actually initiating anything; he wouldn’t want to completely blow it (pun intended) with you.

But learning about things in a book and actually practicing it would be completely different, he’ll come to find out!

He lets you sit on the edge of his bed while he kneels down in front of you, looking up at your face as he pulls your pants and underwear off

Riddle turns almost as red as his hair when he finally sees your leaking cunt, excited that he made you feel this way!

He watches your face intently as he listens to the noises you make, taking your body language into great consideration.

He focuses his energy on your clit and spends time building you up to your release

Riddle moans lightly as you cum, still licking you as you ride out your high

He wipes his mouth as he comes up to kiss you sweetly, teasingly asking you how it was, the smug bastard KNOWS he made you feel so good

Secretly plans on doing it more often because he wants to watch your face twist in pleasure because of him.

“Ah, my rose... did you enjoy that?” The redhead asked smugly, smirking at your form as he raises his head up. “I believe you really did, by the way you made such a mess on me...”

Receiving

Surprise surprise, Riddle ALSO has never received head!

Is a blushing mess when you offer it so casually during a heated makeout session!! But he can’t deny his beautiful rose, can he?

He remains seated on his chair as you knelt down on the floor, undoing his belt and pulling his bottoms down.

He’s extremely embarrassed because, he’s a bit average if not less than the average. Riddle’s worried you would judge him in that department, but when you stroke the precum leaking out of him with your finger he lets go of all of those doubts!

He can’t help but let out a groan and throw his head back when you give his cock a kitten lick from the base to the tip and then engulf him in your mouth.

Riddle tries to be quiet but you can hear his little gasps and you look up to see his eyes glazed in pleasure.

You also can’t help but let your hands explore his body,

He feels like he can’t control himself and grips your hair in his fingers, releasing in your mouth

If you swallow his cum, expect Riddle to freak out the first time, him completely flustered !! But also secretly turned on 😏

“Mmh,! S-so good...” Riddle’s panting as he finished. “E-eh?! You swallowed?! Why?!!” His face is burning by now. “My rose, let’s wash down that flavor with a sweet tart now, hm?”

Idia Shroud x Reader

Giving

It starts out with the two of you by yourselves in his room, sitting on the floor and playing games

Idia notices the way your thighs look thicker when you are sitting in a certain position, reminding him of a certain set of lewd doujinshi images he has masturbated to a few times

You catch Idia staring, fixated at your thighs and quickly catch on

You have to be the one to initiate anything since you know Idia is not the type to!

When you get up to lay down on his bed, Idia actually manages, somehow, to ask you to sit on his face! You’re surprised he would even initiate anything at all!

You’re embarrassed but seeing the way his eyes look so lustful when you lower your hips to meet his mouth, it spurs you on and gives you some confidence!

He lowkey wants you to suffocate him with your thighs..... he won’t tell you that in person though!

Idia hasn’t done this before, but he has watched a lot of hentai scenes of eating out, so he tries to mimic the same actions and is met with your high pitch moans!

When he feels you squeezing his head when you’re close to cumming he uses his hands to keep you in place, not letting you pull away

When he sees and hears you orgasm he swears he could just die a happy man right then and there!!

“A-ah.. this was so much better than my fantasies.... Y/N, you truly are my SSR character...” you heard Idia muttering into your thighs as he lays there, looking even more happy than you were at the moment! You had to wonder, “was this for my enjoyment or his?”

Receiving

Idia would definitely want you to give him head while he is gaming or coding 👀

Personally I see him as really horny but never brave enough to really initiate things verbally

Idia would have a pink flush on his face as he asks if you could suck him off

He makes sure that he was able to tell Ortho to go out and run some errands for the dorm which he knew would take a little while

He would probably be on his gaming chair, with you on your knees in front of him

Idia would bite his shirt or the sleeve of it while feeling you lick at his cock, sighing heavily once you start to pick up your speed

If he is gaming though, he turns off his mic and releases short gasps and sighs of pleasure, trying to prove he is great at what he’s doing by being distracted but still winning

He would definitely tell you when he was close to cumming, planning to pull out. Depending on if you decide to swallow or have him pull out, either scenario would be a win for him.

The idea of having his seed in your mouth or painting your pretty face only serves to turn him on more :)

By the way DEFINITELY don’t tease him by saying you’ll wear kitten ears the next time you blow him, he will be adding them to his online shopping cart within the next .5 seconds

“Oh- Oh Great Seven- That was close..!” Idia groans, accompanied by the sounds of his rapid movement on his controllers. Once he notices you swallow his cum, he instantly turns pink and you swore his hair flashes red for a moment! “I-..... you didn’t need to... do that..” he turns away from your gaze.

Epel Felmier x Reader

Giving

Epel definitely wants to prove he’s a man who can provide to his partner!!

He would not be forceful, but offer to treat you and take an initiative! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

Epel gives you plush pillows to lay down on his bed and makes sure to have his apple scented candles on to set the mood~

He secretly asked Rook for advice but you don’t need to know that LOL

Epel is definitely the type to be shy internally but tries to cover up that fact by trying to be dominant, but not too over the top. He wants to be respectful of your boundaries

Epel will try to use his fingers as well - using them to tease your nipples or play with your dripping hole~

Rook told him to do that LOL

When you look down you’re met with the lavender haired boy looking up into your eyes with a determined yet lustful gaze, cheeks tinged with pink ❤️

When he finally brings you close to your release, he works his pink tongue more aggressively as he watches you come undone~

What a hardworking farm boy! We love :)

“Well, how was that? Wasn’t that something a real man would do for his woman?” He asked you, a big grin on his face when you nod your head and smile at him.

Receiving

You totally catch Epel off guard when you ask to give him a blowjob!!

He became a blushing mess and was shy, at first.

However, you sorta made him a bit mad and told him his dick was cute, no matter how big it was, describing HOW it was cute in great detail!

Epel tried to conceal his feelings but once he felt you wrap your lips around the tip of his dick, he lost himself.

He grabbed your head a bit roughly, “I’ll show you how cute I can be...” as he fucked your face (with your consent!)

Hey, you know the repercussions of calling him cute, and how much he hates it!

If he notices you don’t like how rough he’s being, he will stop being rough once he notices your body language and if there are tears pricking your eyes he gets pretty worried!

However if you DO like it, Epel will definitely keep going at it, and fuck your face faster once he feels his release coming.

You look up at his face while he released inside your mouth and you see his eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Epel’s releasing moans that are throaty and similar to his “real” voice he hides from everyone.

He’s a blushing, panting mess once you’re through with him!

“Sh-shit!!” Epel grips your hair tightly as he shoves his cock to the back of your throat, simultaneously releasing his seed and showing his dominance. “You... were amazing...” he pants, too tired out to even care about how he sounded at the moment.

#idia shroud #riddle rosehearts #epel felmier #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #idia shroud x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #epel felmier x reader #twst lemon #twst headcanons #twst idia #twst riddle #twst epel #twst x reader

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red-letter-imagines · 3 years

Note

heyy there!! can you do another part of the “reaction when you suck on their tongue but with Mikey, Rindou and mitsuya?

You have no idea how happy I am that my work's so well-received! So there's been more than one request for a part 2, but for different characters. This little dove, however, is the first one so I'll be doing this, then the other characters in later parts, alright? Alright.

Now *cracks knuckles* let's begin!

Reaction When You Suck on Their Tongue Part 2 (Sano Manjiro, Haitani Rindou & Mitsuya Takashi)

Sano "Mikey" Manjiro: (Bonten! Mikey)

You sure you don't need a chaser with that? Sanzu snickers from across you, pupils already blown wide from the pills he'd taken half an hour ago. The pure vodka sears your esophagus, a pool of liquid fire in your abdomen. Tears are springing up your eyes and you wince. Truly, it had been a horrible idea on your side to make bets with Sanzu, of all people. That man has had every drug imaginable enter his system and three overdoses later, is still standing. You should've known better than to order Spirytus, but Sanzu has a way of getting under anyone's skin, especially yours.

He knew you had more than several bones to pick with him after he coaxed Mikey into accepting a million-dollar drug deal with some shady Western cartel. Throughout Bonten's history, it was one of the more careless business trades you'd ever gone through, one that put Mikey in a precarious position. The cartel demanded Mikey's audience for the deal to be done, and while Sanzu reassured you that nothing would happen to their "King", that never stopped you from worrying your head off.

A part of you wanted the drugs and alcohol put him into a coma; you just had to hold your liquor until then. Yet this poisonous bastard is still standing, while you barely have the confidence to stand up straight. He's fucking crazy.

You eye the remaining shot glass. It's rim and ridges bounce the bright glow of the chandeliers above you, its crystal clear contents an elegant deception to those unaware. You suck air through your nose and grab it. Before you could down the last drink of your life, a slender hand slides to your shoulder.

You turn to face Mikey's lilac-rimmed gaze, the darkness swimming within sucking you in like a vacuum. Once he sees the flares of red across your cheeks and down your neck, his lips curl a little. Mikey hates alcohol with a passion; he told you early on that he abhorred its bitterness and how it hazed your mind.

Instantly, you cave under his disappointment, and none-too-gracefully drop your shot glass back on the counter. You barely had time to utter his name before he cups your cheek and kisses you. It's gentle, caring yet the pressure of his pecks stamp his dominance into your very soul.

He plunges his tongue into your booze-laced cavern, and you eagerly latch onto it like a hungry pup. He tasted of red bean paste, its sweetness a balm to your burning senses. He keeps a hand on your neck while you have your fill, biting your lower lip when you part.

You're panting, eyes glazed with wanton need. He strokes a thumb under your ear, and you smile.

You could drink all the alcohol you wanted, but nothing could make you drunker than Sano Manjiro's affection.

Haitani Rindou:

You frown to yourself as you waited outside the heavy steel gates of Roppongi's juvenile detention center. It's been six months since the Haitani brothers had been arrested because of Tenjiku. Along with the other Heavenly King named Mucho, they also scored a reduced sentence, and today will be their first taste of freedom in half a year.

You'd been forced to stay behind when the battle happened; Rindou told you that he didn't want to have to look after you while fighting. A cover-up for his worry, of course. The younger Haitani isn't known for being as emotionally apt as his older brother, yet somehow that rigidness of his is one of the things you love most about him. To this day, Ran still loves to give you both shit for it.

Rindou knew that you'd be pissed beyond belief once you got the news; he promised not to leave you alone again like last time. You didn't come to his trial nor see him when he got permitted for visitations. Ran is in a different cell, and he had nothing but time.

Of course, other than being absolutely furious with him, there were other reasons you couldn't come see your bone breaker of a boyfriend. With them detained, no one is left to defend their title as the Kings of Roppongi. No one except you, that is.

You're quite the force of nature yourself, even before meeting Ran and Rindou. Roppongi had been your stomping grounds since you were ten, and when they started making a name for themselves you refused to submit. Thinking back, it was quite a comical scene: a scruffy-looking little girl baring her teeth at two brothers who'd basically killed a man not too long ago. Despite how ruthless they truly are, they never stooped so low as to hit a girl, much less gang up on one to prove a point. Instead you became friends, and later on fell in love with the younger Haitani, and he with you. Together you ruled over Roppongi, and the rest is history.

So while your man stared at white walls in the slammer, you splattered blood across brick walls as warnings to those who thought they could conquer the city. All on your own, you reigned over Roppongi the entirety of their sentence, and now it's time for the kings to reclaim their throne.

You hear them before you see them; Ran's whimsical tones against Rindou's monotone rebuttals. They're wearing casual clothes instead of the jumpsuits, Ran's hair is in braids as always, but Rindou...

The extra inches of hair does something to you. It flowed around his face like a lion's mane, faded blue streaks shining in the noon sun. He's wearing contacts instead of his frames, and his jaw is sharper than you ever remembered it. Fresh out of prison, and he looks every bit the king of carnage you adore.

Licking your lips, you saunter over to them. The clacking of your heels turn their heads, and they smirk at you. You could see Rindou tense for a split second before reigning himself back in. Once you get close enough, you rear a hand back and slam it against his cheek hard.

Then you grab him by the collar and smooch him right in front of the jail gates. His recovery is quick, and he pulls you close in a vice-grip. You press a thumb down his chin and take his tongue right from his mouth. The light graze of your teeth against the flat of it earns a growl from Rindou. You left me again, you fucking asshole you hiss as you pull away. You doubted he really heard you though, because he dived right to your neck after your liplock. You sigh, meeting eyes with a disgusted Ran.

This man is going to be the death of you one day.

Mitsuya Takashi:

Throughout your relationship, Mitsuya is nothing but gentle. It almost gave you whiplash how different he is when he's with you and when he's with Toman. He's more than happy to bash some scumbag's face in, yet he couldn't look you in the eye if he shows up to school bruised the next day. You're one of the reasons he got so good at dodging blows in the first place-all of this just to keep you from remembering just how dangerously he lives.

His carefulness translated through his affections, most of all. He didn't hold you, he cradled you. When he kissed you, you could practically feel the repressed passion just burning beneath the surface. He treats you as if you were a dandelion on a windy day.

And while you thought his unspoken sentiments are nothing short of chivalrous and sweet, you also found it quite stupid. You knew what you were getting into when he sheepishly confessed, knew about him being a captain of Toman's second division. So naturally, you'd braced yourself for all sorts of chaos. Plus, only having to witness one side of him irked something inside of you that you couldn't quite explain. You'd made it perfectly clear that you loved him, bruises and all. Yet when he looked at you with such adoring lavender eyes, you couldn't bear to chide him for wanting to treasure you.

So, you decided to show him through other means.

You're waiting for him to finish inside the sewing club room. He's finishing the hemline of a kimono-a birthday present he's preparing for Draken early on. His eyelids hang low, but his gaze is as intense as ever. Nothing is said between the two of you, but you can't help staring at his pursed lips, now bitten red from his habit when focusing. You internally proclaimed your love for him yet again, unable to stop yourself from wandering over to his hunched form.

Just as he looks up from the sewing machine, you dive in with a kiss that, even you had to admit, is a little too intense to be this sudden. Yet you couldn't help it; even the simplest things he did could turn you into quite the sap.

He doesn't fail to reciprocate it, though. His lips, a little rough and a bit wet, switch from caressing your top and bottom lip each time you return to each other. Somehow, it ended up with you sandwiched between him and his desk, thighs on either side of his hips. His hands never stay in one place, smoothing down your uniform and rubbing your back. He never strays too far down your waist, and that tang of frustration sours your sweet little moment yet again.

Bracing one hand on his shoulder and the other on his jaw, you grind down hard against him. His mouth drops open in a barely contained moan, and you close your lips around his tongue. The noise he made when you licked at it could've put BL voice actors to shame. His fingers rake against the sides of your hips, jolting you out of your sultry scenario and into a bout of giggles. And while you sit there steaming in your embarrassment at ruining such a delicious moment, he simply gapes at what just happened, his face stained a pretty crimson.

Well, that was awkward...but you wouldn't have had it any other way.

#tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo manji gang #bonten mikey #sano manjiro x reader #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey x reader #haitani rindou imagines #haitani x reader #tokyo revengers mitsuya #takashi mitsuya #mitsuya scenarios #mitsuya takashi x reader

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insertdisc5 · 3 years

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Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!

thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)

spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk

not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts

-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol

-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!

-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)

-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN

-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD

-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;

-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)

-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste

-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.

-noelle. noelle. girlboss!

-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself

-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!

-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.

-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!

-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in

-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.

-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)

-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)

-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp

-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like

-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES

-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.

-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?

-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?

-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!

-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows

-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0

-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing

-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you

-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard

that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk

#ask tag #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #snowgrave spoilers

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citrinesparkles · 3 years

Text

doctor todd.

jason todd x gender neutral vigilante!reader. 1,875 words. notes: requested by @jason-redhood as part of my hundred followers celebration! this got a lot longer than i intended, oopsies. thanks for requesting- hope you enjoy! warnings: tending wounds, mentions of food.

"y'know, lurking outside somebody's window is a good way to get yourself shot," jason called over his shoulder.

"i'll keep that in mind," you said, voice strained enough to shoot dread into his veins and draw his attention completely away from his work.

he set the gun he had been cleaning on the table and twisted around to find you gingerly sliding through the open window.

"hey," you mumbled, giving him a weak wave after your boots hit the floor. "sorry for not calling, i just..."

you were backlit, the glow of the city making it impossible to see your features from the dining area- but your posture alone was enough to have him shoving his chair back and crossing his apartment.

"how bad?" he asked, stopping a few steps back, now able to make out the tears in your suit and the bruises around your mask.

"pretty sure i sprained my wrist, and there's a poorly-bandaged gash on my leg, but otherwise i'm peachy."

"how bad's the leg?"

"i'm... not sure. bad enough that i think i need your help." you patted the windowsill with a gloved hand. "obviously."

he nodded and slid to your good side, gently resting a hand on your shoulder. "okay. c'mon, my stuff's in the bathroom."

"here." he handed you a pair of shorts and a large tank top. "change into this so i can get to the wounds, okay? i'll be right out here if you need anything."

"you're good!" you called.

he nudged the bathroom door back open and scooped your uniform up from the floor, carefully putting it in a canvas bag and tying the handles together before setting it in the tub to deal with later. "alright," he sighed, turning back to face you.

his clothes looked way too right on you, he realized, a wave of emotion he would vehemently deny surging through his chest and pushing heat to his neck and cheeks.

"alright?"

"okay. alright. uh-" he jerked a thumb at the counter- "up here, i guess, so i can see your leg."

you propped one foot on the toilet lid and braced your good hand against his shoulder, his hands instinctively coming up to hover around your waist as you pushed yourself up and settled next to the sink.

the grateful smile you gave him was enough to tug his lips into a smile of his own.

"you're up, doctor todd," you teased.

he stepped forward with a halfhearted eyeroll, fingers brushing the cloth tied hastily around your leg. "can i take this off?"

"go ahead."

he tugged gently at the knot, wincing when you inhaled sharply. "sorry."

the scrap fell away, revealing dried blood and an open wound on the outside of your thigh.

"yeesh, that is nasty," he said.

you scoffed lightly. "gee, thanks."

"hey, if you wanted a nice doctor, you probably should have gone somewhere else." he shifted to the side, grabbing a clean cloth and bottle of alcohol. "fair warning, you're really not gonna like me here in a minute."

your quick "i seriously doubt that." was greeted with a grin that felt a little too fond for his liking.

he told himself it was for your benefit.

...yeah, that sounded good.

he could live with that.

he made quick work of cleaning the gash, doing his best to distract you by making stupid small talk about the horrible movie he'd sat through that morning because the tv remote had been out of reach and the mediocre new coffee shop with dry blueberry muffins.

"was the coffee okay, at least?"

"okay, yeah, but not 'five-dollars-fifty' okay. if i hadn't been falling asleep in line i probably would have left when i saw the price."

"there's a nice one up by my place, they make the best blueberry muffins ever."

he hummed. "i'll keep that in mind, next time i'm over that way." he leaned back, studying your cut. "i think stitches would probably be smart."

you groaned. "of course they would."

"i'm okay to do them- i do them on myself- but if you want i can give you a lift to a hospital or something."

"no. if you can, i want you to do them. i trust you."

he sat with that for a minute, searching your face for any hesitation. when he found none, he nodded. "okay."

as you both expected, it sucked.

to make things worse, he was rapidly running out of mindless things to talk about.

how many times could two people really argue about pizza toppings before it got old?

"alright, done."

"holy shit, finally." you slumped back, leaning on your good hand for a moment before your head snapped back up. "no, not like- i meant thank you, you did great, i'm not being an ingrate-"

"i know, relax." he nudged your knee with a goofy smile. "here, gimme your wrist."

you pouted (which, yes, that was also adorable, much to his dismay), carefully stretching your bad arm out.

he took your hand gently, scooping it up in one of his and bracing your forearm up with his other. "it's actually not too bad, considering you hit hard enough to tear your glove. i'm gonna clean the scrapes here up, though, okay?"

"do i really get a choice?"

"it's your body, so, yeah."

you sighed dramatically. "fine, if you insist. go ahead, clean my wounds for me."

he was quiet this time, focusing intently on removing bits of dirt and stuff from your raw palm with a set of tweezers.

trying to ignore the way your eyes seemed to linger on him now that he was looking down.

he set the tweezers aside, glancing up at you to find you smiling at him thoughtfully, and dropped his gaze just as quickly as he had lifted it. "what, you enjoying making me do all the work?"

"you could say that, yeah."

he scoffed. "well, you're going to enjoy it a lot less in a second. time for the alcohol again."

"ugh."

he managed to dig up an old wrist brace in the back of his sock drawer. a little big for you, but it would work for now, he figured.

"may i?"

you nodded and held your arm back out for him to loop the brace over your thumb and tuck the velcro strap under and around, pulling it snug against your skin before sticking it to itself.

"last one, tough stuff." he pointed at your cheek, where a small patch of dried blood stained your skin. "ready?'

you nodded tiredly. "let's just get this over with. this counter isn't as comfortable as it looks."

he chuckled, dampening the softest cloth he had and wringing it out. "sorry, i didn't think i needed to get an apartment with counter cushions." he raised his left hand up, hovering an inch or so below your chin. "uh, can i..?"

your eyes widened, glancing at his hand. "oh, uh, sure. yeah."

he moved slowly, raising it to cup your chin softly with his middle and forefinger on one side and thumb on the other. "this okay?"

"mhm." your eyes slid shut and he could almost believe that you sank into his touch.

if it wasn't absolutely insane, anyway. his touch wasn't exactly the kind people sank into- much less people like you. people that good, that caring, that stunning? yeah, no.

he tilted your head to the side slightly, rubbing gentle circles across your cheekbone with the cloth and watching as the blood faded.

"so, who did this?" he asked softly, casually.

apparently not casually enough, though, because you snorted at him. "why, you think you need to go avenge me? defend my honor or something?"

"no! i'm just curious. just... making conversation."

your eyes opened, amusement dancing in them and threatening to hypnotize him. "good. i shouldn't have to tell you who won that fight, jay."

"well, i mean, you are missing a chunk of your thigh."

"aw, is the big bad vigilante worried about lil old me?"

he squeezed your face gently, pushing your cheeks up and forward into a goofy fish face. "it's rude to tease the guy tending to your wounds, babe."

he definitely didn't imagine your breath hitching. "babe, huh?" you asked playfully.

"shut up," he grumbled. "don't make me regret helping."

"alright, looks like that's the last scrape. you're all cleaned up."

"thanks, jason." you smiled up at him, soft and warm and genuine. "i really appreciate this."

"yeah, yeah." he squeezed your jaw again. "try not to make it a habit."

"mhm." a moment passed quietly before you spoke quietly. "so, you gonna do something here, or can i have my face back?"

he froze.

your mouth- which he was really trying not to look at- shifted into a confident smirk, a challenge written clearly in the angle of your lips.

your eyes, bright under the harsh lighting, told a different story. one of vulnerability, and want, and something close to fear.

"do you want me to?" his voice was hoarser than he'd intended, and he swore you could hear his heartbeat echoing in it.

your gaze dipped to his lips. "would it make everything super weird?"

"you just came crawling through my window in the middle of the night in a mask and kevlar. i think things are already weird."

he felt your hum under his fingers. "then why not?"

"do you really want me to answer that?"

"jason, will you please just kiss me already?"

"well, you did say please." he leaned in slowly, giving you every opportunity to slip away or yell 'sike!'

all you did was bring your good hand up to his collar and pull him towards you.

your lips were soft and gentle, and the way they pulled upwards slightly when his hand slid from your jaw to cup your cheek was something he'd be thinking about for weeks.

when he eventually pulled back, it took him a moment to open his eyes. he was half convinced that if he did, it would be to his bedroom ceiling, the past half an hour all a dream.

instead, he found your fond gaze.

"finally."

he let out a huff of laughter, thumb running over your cheek. "you should stay here tonight."

"w-"

"not like that," he clarified quickly. "you have stitches, you shouldn't go leaping across rooftops tonight. i can take the couch."

"hm." you smoothed out his shirt collar, the barely-there brush of your fingers against his shoulder almost tugging a whine out of him. "or i can take the couch, and then you can take me home in the morning and let me treat you to an actual blueberry muffin."

"are you asking me out?" it was a teasing comment, paired with a tiny smirk meant to fluster you.

but it was also a reality check.

you seemed to catch the second meaning. "yeah, i am. would you, please, let me take you out on a date?"

"i'll have to check my calenda-"

"you're so full of it."

"yeah, probably."

"is that a yes?"

he laughed, bringing his other hand up to squeeze your knee. "yeah, i can let you take me on a date. i could use a good muffin."

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

Note

Hello dear! Can i request a Roman Sionis X Male!Reader where the reader is a metahuman with the ability of manipulating blood (aka a vampire) and tries to hide it from his lover until Roman finds out when Reader saves him from a mobster? Fluff please + Roman as proud as hell of his lover? Thanks in advance!

Life's Good | Roman Sionis x VampireMale!Reader

I am so sorry it took me so long to finally write this! I'm slowly catching up with the last few requests I've received before my break. I hope you're still interested in this and like what I've done with it (I admit, it got a little away from me because I was super invested in the scenario I came up with, so it is probably less fluffy than you may have wanted, sorry)!

summary; see above.

notes; CW // Blood-Drinking (mild Dub-Con for that at first); Gun Violence; Being Threatened; Murder (not graphic). Vampires; Kind of angsty?; Fluff; Aftercare (non-sexual, but you know, after feeding from someone).

Unlike most people would think you’ve actually been born this way. Your parents were vampires, conceiving you naturally, which of course meant you’d been born a metahuman. You’ve lived quite a normal life, despite the fact that instead of eating, drinking and sleeping like other humans would, you only slept rarely, only ate people food when you had to fit in, and otherwise you fed from humans, drinking their blood. You’d never killed anyone with it, though. Enough people who wanted you to feed from them existed, establishments were you could find them were all around the world. It was a pretty good life.

Still, you usually opted to keep it secret, unsure as to how people might react. While the general opinion of vampires has changed in all these centuries, standing in front of one was still a wholly different thing for most. You understood and respected that.

So when you met Roman – his scent so enticing, you had trouble keeping your fangs in – you stood in front of the question once again. Should you tell him?

Eventually, you decided to go with the flow and see where it’d take you. You didn’t immediately want to ruin your chances with him before you’ve actually gotten to know him at all.

At first it was a casual relationship anyway, no need to tell him your big secret then. But as time went on, your relationship became more serious. You stayed over at his loft more frequently, forced to eat his food and drink his beverages, so as not to let him suspect anything. It didn’t hurt you or anything, it was just unnecessary and you’d never get really used to, well, actual food and such. All the different textures and tastes and what you could do with what to change it. It was fascinating, but not exactly your favourite thing.

Of course, one fateful day it had all come to a head.

You had just admitted to yourself that you loved Roman a couple of weeks ago, not daring to say anything to him, as you didn’t fancy ruining what you two had with those three simple, yet powerful words.

Now though, you regretted that decision more than ever, terrified that maybe you would never be able to tell him how you felt.

It all happened so fast, too. One moment, you and Roman were out on the streets, way into the evening, having just had dinner at an expensive restaurant he’d invited you to; and you were laughing, talking about something – you couldn’t remember what – when you turned into an alleyway. In the next moment, a rival mob boss shot at the two of you. Warning shots, missing you both on purpose.

“What the fuck?!” Roman exclaimed, livid, but you could smell the underlying anxiety change his usual scent from when he was enraged. You hated it.

The gang leader – whatwashisface, you could never keep up – stood now in front of you two, having Roman at gunpoint. His men had surrounded you two, pointing their guns at both of you.

“What do you want?” Sionis spat at the other mob boss, glaring at him with a piercing, wild look in his eyes.

You stayed silent, your hands raised out of instinct. The bullets wouldn’t be able to kill you, unless they were specifically made for it, but that was so unlikely, you weren’t overly worried. You were concerned about Roman, though, anxious that this might have been it.

“Set an example, that’s what. You can’t scare us into submission. You can’t control us. You really think getting a hold of the East End would give you enough power to do that? Fuck you, I say!” the leader yelled.

“Well, fucking go on then if you’re really so tough! Or are you only bark and no bite? Cowardly ambushing me in private like that, I’m inclined to believe you are nothing but a talker. You can’t scare me either, you fuck.” You really wished Roman would shut up for once, lest he’d really get himself killed this time.

Your mind was racing with all possible outcomes this situation could bring. Only one was sure to get Roman out alive; and boy were you glad you’ve fed from someone yesterday.

Even though you had never killed anyone and didn’t desire to do so, you were ready to do anything for Roman, no matter what. You didn’t care that he’d know then, know that you were a freak of nature, as some hateful people liked to call people like you. You didn’t care that you’d take lives. They weren’t innocent, dared to threaten your love and you just couldn’t see past that.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and concentrated, focusing your abilities into play and onto every single man of this rival gang. It was rare for you to use any of your powers that didn’t exist and activate naturally, like your strength. Your parents had taught you to only use them for self defence and this situation was practically screaming for it.

Snapping your eyes back open, now glowing red, all of the men around you gasped and crumbled, letting their weapons clatter to the ground, grasping at their throats, or chest, trying so hard to save themselves. Moments later, they were all just lifeless bodies, lying around Roman and you, as if you were some victorious kings. And in a way, you were exactly that, weren’t you? Roman was soon to be the King of Gotham after all.

All too suddenly, all the strength left your body, your legs giving out. Roman, despite his apparent shock, caught you, steadied you. Gently, he lowered you to the ground, keeping his arms tightly wound around you.

It had taken a lot more out of you than you had anticipated. You desperately needed to feed.

“Y/N? Baby, hey, look at me,” Roman spoke softly, something only reserved for you, you had come to realise.

With half-lidded eyes, you looked up at him, a strained sound passing your lips. “You okay?” you asked, still unsure if everything had truly worked out the way you thought it would.

He scoffed, “Yes, quit worrying about me. Are you okay? What the fuck was that anyway?”

“Just gotta eat,” you murmured, slurring your words heavily, “Sorry about the- that. I’ll explain later.”

“What do you mean you have to eat? Baby, I can’t follow you. I hope you realise that I’m missing some of the fucking context here,” he chuckled, which bordered on sounding hysterical.

“Blood. Vampire. Now, Roman, or else- fuck. Won’t make it.” Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, your voice just barely above a whisper anymore. Fuck, you hoped he understood. Even more so, you hoped he was okay with it and that maybe he liked you enough to save your life. You didn’t exactly fancy feeding from him, when he was basically pressured into it. But he had a choice, you told yourself.

When you were slowly lifted up a bit and felt skin against your lips, you forced all your last strength to open your mouth – your fangs had automatically unsheathed when you unleashed your powers – and bite down.

The first taste of Roman was as intoxicating and overwhelming as you had always fantasised it would be. A shaky moan came out of him when you started sucking in earnest. Pretty quickly, you regained more and more strength, feeling increasingly less dead. You cupped the other side of Roman’s neck with your hand and pulled him further in. Shit, you couldn’t possibly get enough.

After a few, long moments, you felt Roman push against you, as well as pulling at your clothes, calling your name. Reluctantly, and almost as if you were just waking up from a trance, you let up and licked up the excess blood on his neck, simultaneously licking his wounds closed.

Roman was breathing heavily, and you were still feeling out of it, as you two just kneeled in this alley, holding each other, amidst the dead bodies of Sionis’ former rivals. It was bizarre.

“I think we should go home,” Roman said eventually, his voice sounded so soft, as if he was barely present in the real world.

You nodded and got up, helping Roman to do the same. He was swaying a little and this time you were the one who steadied him. Drinking someone’s blood always took a toll on both parties and you knew you had taken more from him than you usually dared to do with anyone. It made you feel guilty. You had to make it up to him later – if he still wanted you then – that was for sure.

When you had arrived at Roman’s loft, you helped him lie down on his chaise longue, legs propped up on one of his many pillows, to help his blood flow to where it was most needed. Then you went over to the kitchen to get him a glass of orange juice and an energy bar.

Roman nodded in thanks when you pressed either item in his hands, standing above him. You felt so uncomfortable, didn’t quite know what to do with your hands, or if you were even supposed to still be here. He’s been so unusually quiet the entire time, albeit it was most likely due to shock and blood loss.

“So, you’re a vampire.” Roman stated, looking at you, and you hated that you couldn’t place his expression into any kind of category. You just nodded in answer. “Right. And why exactly didn’t I know?”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times, looking for the right words. “I was afraid of losing you over it,” you settled on telling the truth eventually.

Again, Roman only nodded; his expression was still so indecipherable, but then a certain shine caught in his eyes. You’ve only witnessed it a couple of times thus far.

“You killed for me,” he practically gasped. “Have you killed before? Being a vampire and all, I’d presume you have.”

You shook your head, “No, that was the first time, actually.”

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then, in an instant, his expression morphed into something prideful, a huge grin plastered on his face, his eyes brighter than any stars you’ve seen in the sky above – it was breathtaking. “You killed for me,” he repeated, sitting upright, throwing his legs over the side of the chaise longue, planting his feet on the ground.

“Y-yeah, I did,” you replied, a weak chuckle leaving you. You still couldn’t quite believe that you’ve done it, especially when you spared a thought on how it made you feel – powerful, so far above others, good.

“I can’t fucking believe you. Fuck, you’re a dream come true, my little prince! You’re so special. A vampire! And you killed for me, because-“ He couldn’t finish it, realisation dawning on him, you could see it in his eyes, in the way his smile slowly vanished.

“Because I love you, yes. I couldn’t lose you over some stupid mob boss who thought he could ambush you like that.”

Roman licked his lips and nodded, placed the empty glass and half eaten energy bar on the table in front of him, and got up.

“I’m proud of you,” he then said, taking you by surprise.

“What? Why?”

“For not letting your fears get in your way. You were afraid of losing me for being a vampire, but you were probably even more terrified of losing me to my mortality. And you pushed through it. Almost fucking killed yourself, only to save me. I’m proud of you for doing that. I’m grateful, too, naturally.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Thanks, Roman,” you snickered.

Instead of continuing the conversation, Roman pressed his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. Putting your arms around his shoulders, you kissed him back, hoping to show him just how grateful you were with that single kiss.

Then you remembered your guilt from before and broke it. Roman glared at you for a moment. “What?”

“You never gave your consent, I- I fed from you and you never-“

“I did. By offering myself to you. I had a choice, you know? So quit it. You’re not guilty of anything, my boy. And just so you know, I’ll fucking kill you if you ever feed from anyone else again, ‘kay?” He was smirking, but his eyes had an edge to them, which let you know that he was serious about his threat.

Giving a short laugh, you nodded and kissed him again. Life really was good.

#murder tw #vampire #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #reader fic #reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x reader #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis fanfiction #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #ewan mcgregor fanfiction #mlm fanfic #mlm fiction

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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

Text

Three out of Ten - Fred Weasley

Title: Three out of Ten Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred loves having his girlfriend work at the shop, but some days are significantly *ahem* harder than others Warning: No explicit sexy times but there is some heavy making out and illusions to sex. A/N: the summary is shit but that’s pretty much expected from me at this point lmao. This is for an anon who wanted Fred’s girlfriend having a difficult time walking while working at the shop. Feedback is always welcome, and request are open! Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27

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“Good morning, beautiful,” Fred murmurs as Y/N starts to stir in her sleep. The sunlight is peaking in through the curtains in their bedroom, signaling that it’s time for them both to get up and start their day.

Y/N groans, snuggling further into Fred’s warm embrace. “Five more minutes, Freddie,” she pleads her lips brushing against the bare skin of his chest.

“Tired you out last night did I?” Fred teases with a chuckle. He watches as Y/N’s cheeks flush pink and he leans down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Eh it was alright. I’d give it a three out of ten,” Y/N jokes, pulling away so she can look up at Fred. She laughs when Fred’s mouth downturns into a deep frown, causing Fred to dig his fingers into her side and start tickling her.

“You wanna make jokes and laugh?” he asks, rolling them over so Y/N is underneath him. “I can make you laugh.”

Y/N giggles wildly as Fred tickles her, squirming to try and get away from him. “Oh,” she gasps suddenly when a pain shoots through her lower body.

Fred immediately stops poking at her sides and sits up, reaching out to cup her cheek. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, Freddie,” Y/N chuckles, reaching up to smooth out the worry lines in his forehead. “I’m just a uh, bit sore from last night as all,” she admits with a blush.

“From only a three out of ten?” he teases with a cheeky grin, far too pleased with himself. “Can’t imagine what you’re like the night after a ten out of ten.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and pushes Fred off of her. “Considering that’s never happened I guess we’ll never know,” she jokes.

Fred slaps Y/N on the thigh lightly before pulling her into a brief kiss. “You’re going to regret that later.”

“Gonna try for a four out of ten tonight?” she asks with a laugh, rolling away from the pillow Fred tosses at her.

Fred watches with a smirk as Y/N creeps down the stairs into the shop a little bit later. It’s still a few minutes from opening, but Fred had escaped downstairs a tad earlier than normal to avoid watching Y/N limp around the flat as she got ready for work. Not only does seeing her struggle to walk from how hard he had given it to her the previous night make him proud, it also turns him on. He gets off on watching Y/N cry from pleasure as he ruins her every night, and to see the after effects of it the next day has left a problem in his trousers that is sure to scare customers away.

“You feeling alright, Y/N?” George asks as Y/N finally reaches the shop floor. She had let out a small noise as she stepped off the final stair, her hand gripping her side.

“She’s fine, Georgie,” Fred answers with a chuckle, sending his brother a wink. “Just a bit of a rough night, she didn’t get much sleep.” Y/N’s cheeks flush pink and she flips her boyfriend off.

George pretends to gag as he looks between the two of them. “I don’t even know why I asked. It’s you two of course it was some weird sex thing.” George grimaces as he heads away from them to unlock the front door.

“You’re going to traumatize your poor brother,” Y/N scolds as she shuffles over towards Fred.

“It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before,” Fred says with a laugh, placing his hands on Y/N’s hips. He starts to massage them lightly, causing Y/N to let out a satisfied groan. “There was that time we forgot the silencing charm, remember?” he asks with a wink.

“Mm, how could I forget. Your first ever five out of ten,” she teases, pulling Fred’s face down to kiss him briefly.

Fred pouts, but it immediately turns into a smile when Y/N kisses him again. “You’re such a brat.” The bell above the shop door jingles as a few customers walk in and Fred gives Y/N a soft pat on the ass. “Take care of the till for a bit, yeah? You’ll be able to sit and uh, take a rest.”

“How gracious of you, sir.” Y/N giggles as Fred’s eyes narrow at her. She knows that it turns Fred on to no end that he’s her boss at work, and Y/N loves pushing that button when there’s nothing he can do about it. She presses one last kiss to Fred’s cheek before heading towards the register, making sure to add more of a limp to her step for Fred to enjoy as he watches her walk away.

“How much longer until we close?” Fred groans, his eyes following Y/N’s every move. Her walking ability has gotten better throughout the day, but her knees still quiver, and her legs still shake every few steps and Fred can’t look away. Y/N reaches up to put something back on a shelf and Fred has to hold in a moan as her shirt rides up her back.

“Keep it in your pants,” George teases. “We’ve still got three more hours until closing.”

Fred sighs, placing his head in his hands. “Is this what it feels like to be tortured? Just put me out of my misery, Georgie. Please.” Fred winces when George slaps him on the back of the head. “What was that for?” he asks with a glare.

“It was for you being an idiot,” George answers casually. “Watching you drool over your girlfriend is one thing, but I draw the line at pining. Now go do something useful, maybe the day will go by faster if you actually get some work done.”

Thankfully for Fred the store is a bit slow, and their other floor employees are able to handle the few customers roaming around, making it easy for him to follow Y/N into the back storeroom. He creeps in behind her and shuts the door, grinning at her when she turns around in surprise.

“Merlin Freddie you scared me,” Y/N scolds, playfully smacking him in the arm. “I didn’t hear you come up behind me.”

“That was kind of the point,” he muses, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist. He pulls her into his chest so he can kiss her hard.

“We’re supposed to be working, Fred,” Y/N reminds him with a gasp as his lips bite and nip at her neck. She lets her hands tangle in his hair, moaning as Fred starts to suck on her sensitive skin. Fred’s hands start to travel up the back of her shirt, and Y/N has to take a deep breath to keep focused. “I’ve got whizbangs to restock,” Y/N pants as Fred’s hands threaten to creep under her bra.

Fred kisses Y/N deeply, digging his fingers into her back. “I’ve got a whizbang for you handle,” he suggests with a wink. Fred grabs one of Y/N’s hands and starts to bring it to his crotch when the door to the storeroom slams open, causing both of them to shout and jump apart.

“Sorry if I wasn’t clear before, Fred,” George starts as he grabs the color of Fred’s suitcoat. “But when I told you to do some actual work, I meant restock some shelves or help a customer, not shag your girlfriend in our storeroom!”

Fred grins at Y/N as George drags him out of the small room. “We’ll continue this later!”

“Fucking finally,” Fred sighs in relief as he leans on his bedroom door.

“Long day?” Y/N teases from her spot on the bed, not bothering to look up from the copy of Witch Weekly she’s flipping through.

After George had interrupted their storeroom make out session he kept a close eye on Fred to make sure he stayed on task, much to Fred’s disappointment. Business in the store picked up towards the end of the day, and Fred barely got a chance to look at Y/N, let alone admire her as she worked. Y/N ended up grabbing dinner with Hermione and Ginny while Fred and George worked on some administrative stuff after the shop closed, and they had still been at it when she arrived back home. Y/N had just barely gotten changed into her pajamas and into bed when she heard the front door close behind Fred and George.

“Longest day in the bloody world,” Fred responds as he starts to loosen his tie. Y/N watches from the corner of her eye as Fred gets undressed, her eyes traveling over every inch of skin that he exposes. “No thanks to you, by the way. You’re too damn sexy, Y/N, it’s distracting.”

Y/N laughs and finally tosses the magazine away as Fred crawls up their bed towards her. He’s in nothing but his boxers and her hands run down his bare back as Fred settles on top of her. “Sorry, love. I’ll try and be less sexy from now on.”

“Don’t you dare,” Fred growls, kissing her messily.

Y/N moans against Fred’s mouth, her nails lightly dragging down his back. She lets Fred’s tongue in to explore her mouth as his hands shove the bottom of her shirt up so he can grip her sides. “Too bad George interrupted us earlier today. I was aching for you, Freddie. It was so hot thinking about the fact that the whole store was just outside the door while we were in there.”

“Holy hell,” Fred groans, pulling away so he can look at Y/N. “Are you feeling better?” he asks, squeezing her sides. When Y/N nods Fred grins wickedly. “Good, because we’re shooting for a ten out of ten tonight.”

When Y/N’s eyes flutter open the next morning Fred’s laying on his side, head propped up so he can look down at her. “You’re such a creep,” Y/N teases as she stretches her limbs out. Her bottom half is significantly sorer than it was yesterday, and she bites her lip to hide her pain.

“So? What’s the verdict?” Fred asks before leaning down to give her a peck.

Y/N looks up at him, a mischievous grin on her face. “I’d say a solid three and a half out of ten. Better luck next time, Freddie.”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fanfiction #fw #golden

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another-miracle · 3 years

Text

Nobody actually told Obi what exactly happened to make Shirayuki leave Tanbarun (now on AO3)

Leave it to Sarah to know the exact “right to the good part” scenario I needed to scratch my writing itch. This one’s for you @claudeng80 :) Set before Eisetsu arc when Shirayuki, Obi and Ryuu are still travelling on the road together.

Dinner starts off as a simple affair. Miss cooks up half the dishes while Obi settles the other half in the in-built kitchen of a decidedly-not-small room they’ve found themselves in (wonders what accommodation one affords with all that sweet Wisteria cash; they are delegates after all). A trade-off that they’d agreed on so that they could cook and have dinner in the same space they would reside for the night - instead of going down to the common area. Ryuu sets the table as best he can.

Eventually, they settle down to eat. The conversation steers towards Miss’ early days in the pharmacy - Ryuu still a boy who hid under tables, a fact present-Ryuu did not appreciate being brought up - and Miss still desperately trying to find her footing in a foreign land. It’s new to Obi, to hear of their endeavours before his arrival to Clarines, and he finds himself enjoying the journey down memory lane. That is, until Miss drops a wayward comment that catches the both of them off guard.

So casual, she says, “It’s so funny. And to think I’d almost had to live my life as Raj’s concubine.”

Ryuu freezes and his eyes dart over to Obi. Similarly, Obi’s glass has paused over his lips. It feels like the air in the room has been abruptly sucked out. The word ‘concubine’ rings in his ears as Miss continues to laugh between bites.

“What do you mean concubine?” Obi asks carefully. He’d thought she’d been invited to the palace to be a princess, or perhaps a lady-in-waiting. To be seen, not...

“Oh yes,” Miss shares, something almost fond lining her lips. “Raj and Sakaki-san had pretty wild ideas back then. Sent me poisoned apples and everything.”

“Miss-what?”

Shirayuki looks up, only now noticing Obi’s tone. Next to him, Ryuu lowers his utensils down and places them on either side of his plate. Obi immediately fixates on Miss’ form. His eyes dart down to her arms, searching for any scars, mind desperately rifling through memories of when they first met, whether she had been constantly wearing long sleeves. She’d worn leggings all this while hasn’t she? Obi resists the urge to bend down to look under the table.

“Oh,” Miss starts again, startling Obi’s gaze back to hers. “Oh! He didn’t get to me- I mean, he did. It’s a funny story actually- Zen ended up being the one eating said apple and getting poisoned. I’d only followed to get the antidote, but thankfully-” she glances at Ryuu, “Zen has had quite a resistance against most poisons, and he was fine.”

The sentence is met with tense silence. Ryuu seems to be staring at his plate as if the peas could conjure up a response. A part of Obi wants to shake the boy and tell him not to worry, to crack a joke to diffuse the air. The other part is blinded by red hot anger. The urge to retrieve his knives and march right up to Tanbarun to commit regicide thrums wildly in his temples.

Friend of the Crown? What on earth was Master thinking - working with someone like that. What on earth was he thinking? He’d spent every afternoon for a month, watching, not knowing, as the two - kidnapper and concubine-to-be - traipsed through the gardens of Tanbarun castle, sat next to each other for hours in the libraries. He’d carried the man on his fucking shoulders.

A touch to his hands and his eyes fly open. Miss’s hand is placed on his, on both of their hands. A small smile plays at her lips. Obi turns to Ryuu. The boy looks frustrated enough to cry.

Miss gives a small laugh. “Hey, it’s over alright? I didn’t bring it up to see you guys upset. It was just in passing. And look, we’re all here now. Royal delegates, serving the Wisteria Crown for the greater good of her people!”

Miss glances up at him, then flicks her gaze at Ryuu. Obi suddenly remembers how distraught Ryuu was when they returned to Clarines after their visit to Tanbarun, having only received news that Miss had been kidnapped. He also remembers the fear in his eyes when both he and Shirayuki succumbed to the then-Lyrias disease.

Obi sighs.

His hand reaches out to ruffle Ryuu’s hair. “Yeah,” Obi says, “Miss wouldn’t let something like that get her down. She’s strong, isn’t she, Little Ryuu?”

Ryuu stares up at him, unshed tears, his gaze darting between the both of them. Obi gives him his best reassuring smile; he knows Miss does too, even if he doesn’t look at her.

The boy sniffs. “Yeah- she is. Yeah.”

--------

Later when the plates are cleared and Ryuu has fallen asleep, exhausted from the additional emotional tirade he had earlier, Obi finds Miss by the window. She sits with her feet propped on the sill, arms wrapped around her knees, gaze focused on the distant horizon. The moon is out, deciding to grace Miss in all the splendour and glow her countenance deserves. If Miss thinks he looks good by the firelight, then it should be of no consequence for him to say-

“You look good in the moonlight, Miss,” Obi tells her, holding out a cup of tea and sitting down by her. Miss accepts the drink with a smile before looking out again. She is quiet - more so than usual. Obi sips his tea and waits.

She thumbs at the rim of the cup, looks down, then up at him. With a sheepish smile, she says, “I wonder if that’s something I might have heard from...men...if…”

She trails off, bringing the cup to her lips, the picture of grace and relief. Obi, on the other hand, is struck frozen for the second time this evening. That’s not what he meant. That’s not what he meant.

“Miss-”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Miss rushes out. “That wasn’t fair- it’s just- it’s my fault, I’d brought it up. I don’t mean to say that you’re like any of them- I don’t-”

Miss breathes, a shaky exhale. Obi watches as she struggles with something bigger than her, bigger than the both of them. It’s something more immense than even the distance between two countries, if he’s honest. His heart pulls toward her; the burden she has been carrying for almost two years - the shame, the fear - feelings he has no way of possibly understanding in this lifetime. He aches to reach out for her, but he’s not sure- in that moment, he rehashes every single touch between the two of them. Belatedly, he also finally understands why she’d run when Master kissed her.

“It’s alright,” he murmurs, an assurance that falls flat in the space between them. Miss hums in response, forcing out a smile at him in apology. And- Obi doesn’t want that. How many smiles has she hidden behind? Sweet words that fall from her lips - not just to him, but to the very people who’d wanted to kidnap her, to turn her into an object of possession, to reduce her brilliant mind and her wonderful soul and the endlessly faith-bearing light in her eyes into a mere ornament to be gawked at, prodded until nothing is left. What has he been doing? What have they all been doing?

Obi places his mug down on the table before sidling up to the sill, back to the scenery, hands clasped in front of him. He notices Miss is looking at him curiously. Obi sets his gaze on the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the concrete. He doesn’t do this- doesn’t offer more than platitudes to soothe, doesn’t give others more than he should, more than he can spare another human being. But- he thinks of the broken smile on Miss’ face-

“I’d almost lost my life once,” Obi tells the ceiling. “Thought myself hot shit and went around accepting jobs that were clearly beyond my pay grade. Risked my life because I’d thought it a resource to be utilized when needed - as long as it puts bread on the table, money in my pocket.”

Obi turns down and gives Miss a wan smile. “And it’s funny, because that was me when I met you. You, with all your incredible courage, this red-haired girl who’d walked forward in face of an arrow shot at her. Who’d saved an entire colony in face of a disease no one knew. Who’d jumped off a tower. Who’d walked straight back into the place she’d been running from, head held high, into the den of the very person who’d deigned her an object.

Miss flinches at this. And Obi aches.

“And-” Obi pauses. Breathes. “So much of me just wants to ride down the South back to Tanbarun, go up to Raj’s door and wrangle his neck - him and Sakaki both. But beyond that, Miss-”

Obi stares at her, willing the words, “You are beyond what anyone says of you, beyond whatever value anyone places on you. You’re not some object that someone just picks up and calls their own. Because whatever that’s in there,” Obi jabs his thumb against his chest, “it’s not something that can be assigned by anyone else. You are your own person, Miss. You belong to you. And it’s this you who has toppled boundaries, created antidotes, you and your brilliant mind, and your wonderful soul and everything that is you.

“And-” Obi wrenches his gaze from her, hand coming up to push down on his shoulder. “I can’t imagine myself without you. I’ve changed, because of you. Myself and many other people you’ve met in Clarines - Little Ryuu, too. So please-

“Don’t think you are anything less than who you have made yourself to be. Don’t let anything cause that- not Raj, not Master, not Izana, not even me. You are yours, Miss.”

Obi says it quietly, a whisper taken by the wind into the meadows ahead of them. But he knows Miss hears it all the same. Obi lets the words take up the silence, let them take root. He hopes, desperately, that in between the awkward cadence and messy phrasing, Miss may find some comfort in them. An unspoken assurance that he is on her side - always have, and always will be.

Sneaking a glance at her, Obi is startled to find Miss’ head buried in her knees, shoulder shaking.

He jumps up and immediately frets. “M-miss, ahh- I didn’t mean to make you upset! I’m sorr-”

In an instant, Obi’s hand is enclosed between both of hers, warmth effusing through skin. A warbled laugh escapes her and she looks up from her knees up at him. Arrested by the tears in her eyes, Obi watches as she smiles that broken smile again - only this time, he knows it isn’t forced. She brings his hand close to her, and places the back of it against her forehead. Obi’s hand twitches, almost aching to cup her face and rub the tears trickling down - but clearly Miss is having a moment as she closes her eyes and breathes.

“Thank you, Obi,” Miss tells him, words entangling around his fingers. “It never gets easier- I don’t think it will, but-”

She takes his hand and cups it against her cheek anyway, collapsing all his walls. “You, being here. You remind me that I’m worth more.”

He can’t resist his fingers running across the apples of her cheekbones. He wipes away every tear that falls and bends down close, leaning his forehead against hers. There are no words to describe the monument of a woman before him now, and as he draws strength from this little form of comfort he’s offered, he only hopes she receives the same.

It will not be easy, probably never will, as Miss says.

But Obi will be damned if she ever faces it alone again.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #this has to be one of the most emotionally exhausting fics i’ve ever written #yixin’s fic

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mermaidenisaacs · 3 years

Text

isaac is bad at feelings

it goes like this: you get sad, you text isaac, he comes over and makes it all better.

feat. stiles, who knows the vibes

🎶 telepatía - kali uchis 🎶

The morning afters were always the same.

I usually woke up first. Sometimes I climbed out of my bed and carefully tiptoed into the bathroom, where I sloshed a bit of mouthwash, rubbed the gunk out of my eye, and slipped back underneath my sheets before Isaac woke up. The first face he’d see was mine. I did what I could to make it look kind of okay.

It’s not that I thought he would judge me if I looked bad. He wasn’t that kind of friend. He was just the kind of friend I fucked on occasion, when we both had nothing better to do and found ourselves lonely and a little unloved.

We both had a bad habit of avoiding the heaps of repressed childhood trauma that lurked in the dark corners of our minds. Some days were harder than others. On those days, sometimes the only comfort we found was in each other. And what were friends for, if not that?

Isaac stirred awake. He blinked twice, clearing the sleepy haze shrouding his eyes. His eyes focused on me and his face broke into a marshmallow sweet smile. He looked adorable, and I was as fond of him as ever.

He was laying on his side. The morning sun peeked through the blinds, reflecting off the floating stardust in the air. The light landed on Isaac, his sandy brown curls and his sporadically freckled skin. He was golden. In the moment, he looked younger, warmer, unburdened, happy.

“Morning,” he said. The sound of his greeting came out deep and gravely. His morning voice was, as always, a bit much.

“Morning,” I hummed.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Not too long.”

“That’s good. I guess it’s not as creepy to watch someone while they’re sleeping if you do it for not too long.”

I laughed. “I wasn’t watching you. Just, casually observing. You look really peaceful when you’re sleeping, did you know? Like, peaceful and serene and beautiful.”

Isaac raised his brow playfully. “Beautiful? Are you trying to be romantic? Is that what we’re doing now?”

I snorted and rolled over to face away from him. “No way.”

The weight shifted on the mattress as he scooted closer and his soft lips brushed against my shoulder. Isaac’s chest was warm and solid, protective behind me.

“I’m just kidding,” he said softly. “Anyway, you’re the one who looks beautiful when you’re sleeping. Also when you’re awake. Anytime you’re existing, really.” His lips trailed up my shoulder and he brushed my hair away from my neck to kiss me there. A hand snaked around my torso and turned me over to face him.

I playfully rolled my eyes. “Whatever. You’re just complimenting me because you have morning wood and you want to fuck.”

He tsked disapprovingly. “Way to ruin the moment. You’re always so quick to doubt my motives. It’s not my fault you don’t know how to take a compliment.”

I shoved him back lightly, flipping us over so I was straddling him around his waist. “It’s not your compliments that I want.”

Pushing Isaac’s boxers down his thighs, I positioned his already swollen cock at my wet entrance and slipped him inside me. Isaac emitted a shuddered breath as I took in all of him. I pushed up and brought my hips back down, creating a slow rhythm.

Isaac sucked in his breath. “Fuck, fuck, come here.”

He tangled his fingers in my hair and brought down my forehead to rest against his. I braced my hands on either side of him and rolled my hips. Isaac pinched one of my nipples, twisted it between his fingers and kneaded my other breast.

I sighed in pleasure, arching into him as a familiar sensation pooled underneath my stomach. I moved my hips faster. Isaac steadied my urgent movements with his arms locked around me. He held me still so he could pump into me from below. I sighed in pleasure. From this angle, I felt him deep inside me, felt every ridge, every vein on his cock against every inch of my walls.

“Oh god, fuck, Isaac, please,” I moaned pathetically. My nails dug into his shoulders while he slammed into me. It was a lot. It was always a lot, in the best way. I still wasn’t used to the fact that my fuck buddy was a teenage wolf-human hybrid with lots of energy to expend in the morning, or really at any point during the day.

In the corner of my eye, I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. If we took too long, we’d be late for school. Reaching under me, I rubbed my clit and moved my hips with Isaac’s.

“Isaac, please I’m so close, please don’t stop, right there…”

Isaac rutted his hips and sank deep into me, and then we were both coming with strangled groans. I felt his smile against my skin, mirroring my own that he couldn’t see.

~*~*~*~

Later that morning, I drove us to school, rolling my eyes when Isaac said that it’d be faster if he just carried me on his back and ran there.

“You can’t carry me,” I said. “I’m not skinny.”

“And what of it? Your body’s amazing,” he replied without missing a beat, “and I would, and could, carry you anywhere.”

I chuckled. “Whatever, wolf boy.”

“Your car really is a piece of shit.”

I lightly punched Isaac’s shoulder. “My car’s fine. You’re free to get out and walk your ungrateful ass to school.”

Isaac rubbed his shoulder and chuckled. “So um,” he said hesitantly, “thanks again for letting me come over last night.”

I frowned. “You know you don’t have to thank me for that.”

“Yeah, I do. I just don’t ever want you to think I’m using my nightmares and my issues as like, a pick up line to get into your pants or something. I would never take advantage of you.”

Briefly, I glanced over. He was looking at me with a peculiar expression. He looked sincere, and because I was emotionally stunted, it made me uncomfortable. I chuckled to dispel the tension in the air.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re not taking advantage of anything. I do what I want, nothing more or less. You don’t have to treat me like I’m a virginal princess and you’re like, some big bad wolf stealing my flower.” I laughed at the idea that Isaac could ever be predatory in any way. “And it’s not like I don’t need you too. We’re there for each other because we’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

“Friends. Good, that’s good…” Isaac trailed off.

“Um, is there something else you want to tell me?” I asked. It sounded like there was something unsaid lingering in the air.

After a few beats of silence, Isaac casually replied, “Nope, that’s it. Just wanted to make sure we were alright, that’s all.”

That wasn’t all. I could detect the slight uneasiness in his voice. I knew in my gut something was off, but I was a coward, and I hated confronting people, so I didn’t. Instead, I decided to turn up the radio and pretend everything was fine, while a tiny little knowing voice in my head mocked me the rest of the car ride to school.

~*~*~*~

The ominous feeling from the morning stayed with me throughout the day. At noon, I waited for Isaac to show up in the cafeteria at our usual lunch table with the pack. After waiting fifteen minutes, I started to get a little concerned.

I turned to Erica. “Have you seen Isaac? He’s not answering my texts.”

Erica smirked. “Worried about your boyfriend?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“So I’m just supposed to believe you sneak a boy into your room every night to chit chat and do homework? Are we that innocent?”

I shrugged. “I can be innocent.”

Erica laughed. “You haven’t been innocent since we were fifteen. But I think I saw Isaac earlier headed to the boys’ locker room.”

With that information, I left to go find Isaac, briskly walking through the hallways. I turned a corner and stopped dead in my tracks, suddenly wishing I’d never left the safe confines of the cafeteria.

I was about twenty feet away from the locker room entrance where I saw Isaac standing in front of a girl, his hand on her waist, her lips near his ear giggling and whispering, his face buried into her neck. And then he kissed her. In the middle of the hallway in front of everyone, not caring who might see them. Not caring if I might see them.

I stepped backwards until I was shielded behind the wall. I was hurt, but I didn’t even feel like I deserved to be. Isaac and I weren’t together. He was free to do whatever he wanted. We were just friends. I told him so this morning.

I mentally smacked my forehead. My own stupidity always came back to haunt me. This was what Isaac was trying to tell me in the car.

I returned to the cafeteria and sat next to Erica and stared blankly at my lunch tray. I didn’t know how to feel. There had always been this unspoken rule between me and Isaac that we wouldn’t keep secrets from each other. He had told me he didn’t want to take advantage of me but that’s exactly what it felt like.

He was messing around with another girl. For all I knew, there were many other girls. And he had kept it a secret. His withholding information by default made the scales uneven. Before, everything felt balanced and fair, but now, the dynamic felt different. I trusted him and he didn’t give me the same trust back.

If Isaac was just a casual friend, it wouldn’t hurt this much. I naively thought he and I had something different. I thought he was different.

Erica gently shook my shoulder. “Babe?” I felt too embarrassed to even look at her. “What’s wrong? Did you find Isaac?”

“Oh um, no I didn’t uh, I didn’t see him.” Erica soothingly raked her nails across my back and I relaxed into her touch. There was no way she bought my bullshit lie, and I loved her for not pressing me about it. “Hey um, remember last week when you said I should start dating again?”

“Um, yeah. You said you weren’t interested though, right?”

“I did say that, but I am now,” I said. “But I’m not exactly interested in dating someone. I just need a distraction, you know?”

“Hm,” Erica said. “That can be arranged too. But what changed your mind?”

I shrugged nonchalantly. “Nothing really. My old distraction isn’t working for me anymore. I need something new.”

~*~*~*~

Erica suggested I meet up with one of one of her old casual hook-ups. When she first told me who it was, I was flummoxed. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense when Erica told me I should go out with Stiles Stilinski.

Since Erica pre-approved him for me, I knew he was someone I could trust and someone who probably knew what they were doing. I wasn’t super close to him either, which would help with avoiding another Isaac situation where I was too enmeshed with the person. Overall, Stiles was a pretty ideal distraction.

It turned out that he was also pretty into the idea of us linking up. My phone kept vibrating with his texts the whole time I drove home from school. As I walked to my room, I opened my unread messages, except ones that were from Isaac.

3:20 pm: Hey, this is Stiles. Well you probably knew that. Unless you don’t have my number saved

3:22 pm: Which isn’t a big deal considering we’ve never really talked that much

3:25 pm: Anyway Erica just texted me and told me that we’re hanging out tonight?

3:25 pm: We as in you and me, not me and Erica. That’s been over for a long time

3:26 pm: We didn’t date or anything don’t worry

3:26 pm: Anyway what I’m trying to say is that I’m totally down. I’m just a little confused

3:30 pm: Are we going out, like out out? Or are we just hanging out? Or is it like what Erica and I used to do?

3:34 pm: Sorry I’m making this weird. I’ll just pick you up tonight around 8 for dinner. Cya then :)

I was reading his last message as I opened the door to my bedroom, chuckling at Stiles’s messages, when I jumped backwards and yelped at the sight of Isaac laying casually on my bed.

“Jesus, you scared me,” I muttered. He simply grinned.

“Sorry, but I think it’d be fair to say you’re easily spooked.”

I stared back impassively, ignoring his playful quip. “What are you doing here?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

Isaac shrugged. “Had nothing to do after school.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, so it’s just a convenience thing? You just show up whenever you want when you have nothing better to do?”

Isaac frowned and sat up. “You never had a problem with me showing up here unannounced before. What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?”

“Nope,” I lied. “I just don’t have time to deal with you right now.”

I knew why he was here. To him, I was just an easy fuck. No different than the girl he was pressed up against at school and probably the countless other girls who gave him full access to whatever he wanted. “I need to shower and study.”

“Okay? I’m not stopping you. I need to study too. We can study together.”

I turned on my heel and lifted my shirt over my shoulder, walking topless to my hamper to discard the garment. “I don’t have time to study with you. I’m going out later.”

After unzipping my jeans and pulling them down my legs, I threw them on top of the pile of dirty laundry. Standing there in my bra and underwear, for the first time, I truly felt naked in front of Isaac. I’d grown so accustomed to him seeing me without clothes on that it stopped phasing me, but I couldn’t get the image of Isaac kissing another girl out of my head.

I always used to feel so safe around him. For once, I felt vulnerable in front of Isaac.

“You’re going out?” Isaac rose to his feet. “With who?”

“Stiles.”

Isaac blinked. After a few moments, he said, “Oh I’m sorry, are you not kidding?”

“Why would I be kidding?” I challenged.

The corners of Isaac’s mouth turned down in a thoughtful, indifferent frown. “I just didn’t know you two were close like that.” Isaac scoffed again. “Wait, I’m sorry, I can’t get past this. Stiles? How the hell did that happen?”

I chuckled, remembering that Isaac and Stiles hated each other. “He’s cute, and I like him. He texted me earlier, so we’re going out.”

Isaac shook his head. “I feel like you’ve lost your mind, but I suppose I can’t stop you.”

Just like you couldn’t stop yourself from shoving your tongue down random girls’ throats, I thought bitterly.

“So, are you gonna fuck him?”

I snorted. “Excuse me? How is that any of your business?”

“It is if we’re fucking.”

My jaw fell open. “Holy shit, you’re unbelievable. You know what? We’re not anymore.”

“Seriously?” When I didn’t respond, he laughed in disbelief. “You’re joking. You can’t be ending this over Stilinski.”

“I’m not. I just don’t want to do this anymore.”

Isaac blinked. “You know I can tell when you’re lying right?”

“Whatever. I don’t care if you’re listening to my heart rate or reading my perspiration levels or my scent or whatever. None of that means anything. What matters is what I’m telling you, and I’m telling you this is over. You should leave.”

For a brief moment, Isaac looked taken aback, hurt evident in his slightly wide eyes. “Come on, you don’t seriously mean that.”

He stepped forward and I stepped back. He looked surprised again. He walked us backwards until my back met the wall. He lifted his hand and with his pinky, gently brushed a stray lock of hair from the side of my face. I turned away and placed a hand on his chest.

“Isaac, I don’t…” Faintly, I tried to protest. I really did. But Isaac Lahey was not someone who made it easy to resist. He lifted my chin and softly pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back, a sudden impulse fueled by longing and self-loathing overriding my will power. I pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, groaning when his hand slid down my back and squeezed my ass.

Somewhere in the room, I heard my phone send out a loud text notification ding!. Oh right, reality.

I shoved Isaac’s chest and pushed him away. He stumbled slightly, his face full of confusion and sadness. I felt a twinge of remorse. At the end of the day, I didn’t want to hurt him. There was a soft spot in my heart and Isaac had made it his home a long time ago. But I couldn’t do this anymore. It was too painful.

“Just go please,” I said quietly. This time, he listened.

~*~*~*~

At 8 o’clock, I saw Stiles parked outside my house. I knocked on the window of his jeep, and in doing so, inadvertently scared him. Stiles jumped and hit his head on the roof of his car. I heard a muffled “what the fu-oh hey!” I gave him a guilty smile and a small wave. He rubbed his cranial injury and fumbled with his door handle, finally managing to step outside.

“Hey,” he said. “Sorry about that. I was on my phone and I wasn’t paying attention and… you look really pretty.” He cleared his throat. “Is that okay to say? Because we’re sort of friends and now we’re going… out…? But not like, going out, not like that. Unless um, are we? Because Erica kind of implied that this was just to... you know... I mean, it’s totally possible that I misconstrued her words and we are actually going out? Or… fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying.”

Poor kid.

He’d texted me about 10 minutes ago to tell me he was in front of my house. He was early and I was nowhere near ready. After I had finished combing mascara through my lashes, I looked at myself in the mirror, mostly indifferent at my reflection, but a little disgusted. I wasn’t thrilled by the idea of using Stiles to distract myself from Isaac, but it’s not like Stiles was naive. He was Erica’s fuck buddy once upon a time. He knew the vibes.

Erica was supposed to tell Stiles this was purely a hookup, casual and unofficial, but considering he wanted to pick me up and take me to dinner, some signals might’ve gotten crossed.

I laid my hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Hey, Stiles, relax. It’s only me. I just needed to get out and have some fun, no pressure. We’ll figure things out as we go, okay? And thank you! You look nice too.”

I reached up to adjust the collar of his flannel button down. He smiled at the gesture, and I noticed for the first time that he had a really nice jawline. There was also a cluster of moles on his face and his neck, sixteen in total. Cute.

“Thanks,” he said shyly. “So, shall we?” He jogged to the other side of his car and held open the door, beaming back with a toothy grin.

I giggled, and the tension in my shoulders unfurled. There was nothing to fret over. This was Stiles, the least intimidating person ever.

Everything was going to be fine.

~*~*~*~

My “date” with Stiles was going surprisingly well. He let me play my music in his car, lovingly calling my playlist a “pretentiously indie softcore mess.” I pretended to be offended and played three more Bon Iver songs just to spite him.

At dinner, we slid into a booth at a colorful diner. He ordered a hamburger, a chocolate milkshake, and curly fries, then made fun of me for ordering a veggie burger, water, and sweet potato fries. I playfully punched him in the arm when he tried to steal some of them.

“What kind of self-respecting woman would I be if I just let you steal my food right after you made fun of it?” I quipped.

“First of all, I was making fun of you, not the food,” I gasped in mock offense. “And second of all, I just wanted to understand how you could give up meat and dairy for something that looks like dog food and cardboard. Now I’m making fun of your food.”

I snorted. The thing about Stiles was that even when he was roasting you, he had the unique ability to put you at ease, just by virtue of treating everyone the same way. He could be sarcastic and blunt and unnervingly confrontational, but he was that way towards everyone. Maybe if I hung out with him enough, those qualities would rub off on me.

“How dare you?” I said. “Just for that, I’m stealing some of your fries.” I reached across the table and snagged the biggest curl of greasy potato from his plate.

Stiles stared at me blankly. “If you wanted real fries, you could’ve just ordered them.”

“Hmm, it’s more fun this way,” I said cheerily.

“Wow, I have half a mind to out of this diner right now, but you’re cute, so I’ll allow it.” He leaned back against the booth and grinned. I smiled shyly at the unexpected compliment and stared down at my lap. “So, what’s your deal?” he asked.

I looked up. “My deal?”

“Yeah. Erica hits me up out of nowhere and tells me to take you out, which I don’t mind at all. We’ve just never been particularly close.”

I nibbled on a fry. “What do you want to know?”

“Just tell me why we’re really here.”

I paused. “You’ll judge me if I do.”

Stiles tilted his head to the side and crossed his arms over his chest. “Unless the reason you’re with me right now is that you need an alibi for a murder scheme, I probably won’t judge you, but even then…” I gave him a small smile and shrugged. “Here,” he extended his pinkie, “I promise I won’t judge, okay?”

I laughed and twisted my pinkie with his. “Okay.”

I told him about the casual arrangement I had with Isaac, getting jealous after seeing him kiss another girl, asking Erica to set me up with a distraction, getting into a fight with Isaac, and finally ending our whole arrangement.

“Wow,” he said.

“Yep.”

“First of all, Isaac Lahey? Doesn’t deserve you. You could do way better. Second, should I be offended or flattered that I’m just being passed around to different girls as a distraction? And third…” Stiles reached forward and laid his hand over mine, “I’m sorry this is all happening to you. I know what it’s like to see the person I’m into be all over someone else.”

I was nodding along until he said the last part. “Wait, what? I’m not into Isaac,” I said incredulously.

“Yeah, you kinda are. Why else would you be upset that he kissed someone else?”

“Um, because he hid it from me?”

“Nah, I’m not buying it.”

“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and tried to retract my hand from his.

Stiles grinned and gripped my hand tighter. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay to have feelings for him. Just don’t fall in love with me too, kid.” He winked.

I tried to give him an unimpressed stare, but I couldn’t help the giggles that bubbled out of my throat. “I’ll try.”

“I know, I’m pretty hard to resist.” Stiles looked me dead in the eye, grabbed his milkshake, opened his mouth to take a sip and missed the straw completely, aimlessly moving his head and searching for it with his tongue. I laughed at him so loud that people gave me judgmental stares.

~*~*~*~

After we left the diner, we climbed back into his jeep. I graciously allowed Stiles to turn on the radio. In the spirit of our mutual dislike for Isaac, we loudly sang along to “I Don’t Fuck With You.” I realized I hadn’t felt sad about Isaac the entire time I’d been out with Stiles. Erica was right; he was the perfect distraction.

We were still parked outside the diner. I looked over at Stiles. Suddenly, I had the overwhelming urge to lean over the console and kiss Stiles on the cheek, so I did. I started moving away, but before I could, he surged forward and connected our lips. We were kissing for about four seconds before he pulled away.

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“It’s cool,” I said, licking my bottom lip. Stiles tasted like the strawberry from his milkshake. “Wanna do it again?”

His mouth parted slightly. He looked surprised. “Really?” Without answering, I closed the distance between us and kissed him again, on his lips this time.

I grabbed the back of his neck and mushed our mouths closer. His lips tasted sweet. His sugar-coated tongue slipped into my mouth. He placed his hand timidly on my bare thigh where my dress had ridden up.

Stiles was a good kisser. I liked the feeling of his hands on my body and his lips on my lips, but even in the midst of all this, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Isaac, kissing him just this morning because we had woken up in the same bed together.

I tried to get my mind off him and focus on what Stiles was doing. Stiles kissing the corner of my mouth, Stiles grazing his lips against my jaw, then my neck, every once in a while tasting my skin with his tongue. He was sucking on my collarbone when my phone started buzzing in the cup holder.

I tried to ignore it, but against the plastic container, it was rattling obnoxiously. I pulled away, despite Stiles’s little whine of protest. “I’m sorry, let me just turn it off-oh.”

“What?” Stiles asked.

“It’s Isaac. What do I do?” I asked, a little panicked.

“I want to give you unbiased advice,” Stiles said, “but I currently have a boner, so my interests are a little biased at the moment.”

I ignored the call, but the moment was already ruined.

~*~*~*~

Since I couldn’t get back into the mood, Stiles offered to just drive me home. The car ride was silent and awkward and sexually frustrating all at once, and it was all Isaac’s fault.

“I’m sorry,” I said as Stiles pulled into my driveway.

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault your ex boy toy takes every chance to screw me over.”

I chuckled. “Guess we’re both getting screwed by him.” I nervously picked at chipped polish on my nail. “Hey Stiles?”

“Hm?”

“Do you maybe wanna come inside?” I asked before I lost my nerve, hoping Stiles would understand what I was really asking him.

Stiles licked his lips. “Really?” Seemed like he understood pretty clearly.

I shrugged. “Offer’s on the table.”

Stiles pursed his mouth and squinted at me. “Do you wanna do this just to get back at Isaac, or are you actually into me like that?”

“Is it bad if I say both?”

“Maybe, but I’m no better, because I do want to come inside. Your house. Not-” I clapped my hand over my mouth to muffle my laughter. “Shut up,” he muttered, which only made me laugh harder.

I reached for the door handle, but Stiles stopped me. I was confused until he jogged around the front and opened my door for me again. “If this is how polite you are on all your dates, you must get laid all the time.”

“You know how I do,” Stiles said, making me snort. He wove his fingers through mine, and we walked towards my front door. When we arrived, I nearly tripped and fell, because the last thing I expected to see was Isaac sitting on my doorsteps.

“Jesus fucking christ Lahey, are you kidding me?” Stiles said, grabbing my arm to steady me. “You’re creepy as hell, you know that?”

Isaac remained expressionless. He stood up and dusted off his khakis. “Really, I’m creepy? You stalked Lydia for years and she didn’t even know your name.”

“What did you just-” Stiles sputtered.

“Alright,” I interrupted before they started throwing fisticuffs. “Isaac, what are you doing here?”

He frowned. “I was waiting for you. I didn’t think you’d bring him back with you.”

“He is my date, which I told you before, and we had a great time, so I invited him in,” I said in a clipped tone.

“To get back at me.” I froze. “That’s what you told him in the car, right? Why are you getting back at me? What did I do?”

I looked down. “Nothing,” I mumbled. “I don’t know.” The silence stretched on. Beside me, Stiles was impatiently tapping his heel. He exhaled loudly.

“Really?” he said. “You’re both gonna do this now, right before I was supposed to get laid?”

Stiles was fed up, which became abundantly clear when he cursed our “unnatural capacity to be stubborn little shits.” He grabbed our arms and led us inside. He marched us up my stairs to my bedroom and told us to sit down. He stood in front of us with the authority and sternness of a school vice principal.

“We are going to resolve this right now,” Stiles stated.

“Resolve what?” Isaac mumbled. “I didn’t even do anything.”

I snorted. “Yeah right.”

Isaac turned to me. “What’s your problem?” he asked. The fact that he had the audacity to ask like he still didn’t know was infuriating. I was over it.

“Your face,” I muttered. I was aware I sounded like a child. I didn’t care.

“Oh, that’s mature. My face is your problem?”

“Yep.”

“Well your face sucks too.”

“That’s not what you said this morning,” I retorted.

“That’s because you weren’t acting like this this morning.”

“Well your face was better this morning.”

Isaac looked absolutely vexed. It was almost funny. “What does that even mean?”

“Holy shit,” Stiles said. “She’s mad because you kissed another girl. And many others possibly, but she saw you with someone at school today. That’s why she’s mad.”

“Stiles, what the fuck?!” I sputtered as he exposed me.

I felt my face get hot. I turned to Isaac, who was looking at me with his mouth parted in surprise and awe. This was so fucking embarrassing.

“Look,” I said, “you don’t have to explain yourself, okay? We never set any rules for what this was, and I just assumed we wouldn’t be seeing other people. So it’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

I scooted backwards on my bed until I reached the stack of pillows near the headboard. I locked my arms around my knees and hid my face. In the silence, I heard faint mumblings and harsh whispers. Lifting my head, I watched Stiles and Isaac engaging in an inaudible argument of accusatory finger pointing and other frustrated hand gestures. I ducked my head again. I couldn’t face the mess I’d made.

The weight on the mattress shifted. I felt a presence to my left. A hand rested gently on my arm. I looked up. It was Isaac, looking at me with a guilty expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you. I wasn’t messing around with anyone else in the beginning. That started a few weeks ago.”

“If you wanted to mess around with other people, you should’ve just told me. I thought we were close enough that you could tell me anything,” I said, unable to keep the sadness out of my voice.

“I didn’t want to mess around with other people. I only did it because I started having feelings for you.”

I froze. “You what?”

Isaac sighed. “I like you. A lot. I couldn’t tell you because I know you only think of me as your friend. I did try at one point to stop what we were doing, but I wanted you too much. But it was killing me not to tell you, so I got sad, like really sad. I couldn’t tell you I was basically in love with you, and I didn’t want to deal with how depressed it was making me, so I started messing around with other people. I fucked up.”

“You’re in love with me,” I repeated in awe. Of all the things I expected him to say, that information was nowhere on the list. “I can’t believe it.”

Isaac winced. “Look, you don’t need to address it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or feel obligated to comfort me or anything. I’ll deal with it on my own. I don’t want things to change between us just because of this.”

"But things have changed,” I said, thinking out loud. “Because I love you too.”

Isaac blinked. “You do?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I laughed in disbelief. “I think that’s why I was so mad. I didn’t even realize I had feelings for you until today. Stiles figured it out first. Oh shit, Stiles.”

Stiles raised his hand like a teacher just called on him for attendance. “That’s me,” he said.

“Oh god, I’m sorry you got caught up in the middle of all this,” I said.

Stiles shrugged. “No worries. Erica said there was a possibility I would get laid, and it was with you, so I was down for whatever. Actually I’m still down if you two are about to fuck.”

I sputtered. My entire face felt like it was on flames. I laughed nervously. “You’re still down to what?”

“To fuck.”

“Fuck who?”

“Fuck you. And Isaac.”

My eyes darted back and forth between the two boys currently on my bed. What did he just say? “What did you just say?” I squeaked.

Stiles blinked. “What? Haven’t you ever had a threesome before?”

“Haven’t I-? No, of course not! That’s freaky, even for me.”

“Really? Oh. I just thought, considering you have a reputation for being kinda promiscuous, no offense.”

I glared at Stiles. Full offense.

“No seriously, it’s not a bad thing at all. We all have an inner slut and there’s nothing wrong with expressing that. I’ve had lots of threesomes before. I’m sure Isaac has too.”

I snorted. “No way. Isaac’s too vanilla, right Isaac?”

I turned to Isaac. He grinned guiltily. “Uh, actually.”

“See,” Stiles said, smirking.

My jaw dropped open. “How did I not know this about you?”

Isaac shrugged. “Never really came up. It’s honestly not a big deal.”

“Wow, I feel like such a prude right now. Who’d you even do it with?” I asked.

“Scott and Derek,” Isaac answered.

My jaw fell open again. “And you, Stiles?”

“Scott and Erica.”

“Wow, Scott really takes care of his pack huh?”

Stiles laughed. "He takes his true alpha status to heart. But anyway, you don’t have to do it. I’m just saying, it’s fun, and I personally am horny and down for whatever.”

“I…” Thinking about being with Stiles and Isaac at the same time made something flutter in my lower stomach. I glanced at Isaac, questioning him silently. He smiled and shrugged casually in an I’m-down-if-you’re-down kind of way.

I inhaled.

“Okay. I, yeah. I’m in."

Isaac grinned. “Well this is a surprising turn of events. Just to clarify,” Isaac gestured at the empty space between us, “we’re together right? Now that we’re both in love and all?”

“That is correct, yes,” I said matter-of-factly.

Isaac leaned forward and kissed my shoulder.

Stiles clapped his hands. “Alright, alright, congratulations to the happy couple. Just a reminder: I made this happen. You guys owe me.”

“Was your 3-way suggestion not your way of collecting?” I asked sarcastically.

Stiles shrugged. “Only if it goes really well.”

“Jesus,” I said, rolling my eyes. “So uh, how do we do this?” I wiped my palms on my bed sheet. Starting off sweaty. Less than ideal.

Stiles stood up and walked around my bed towards us. He unbuttoned his flannel with each step and discarded it on the floor. Okay, straight to the point.

“Don’t be so shy,” said Isaac sarcastically, but watched Stiles with anticipation.

Stiles grinned before cradling the back of my neck and leaning down to kiss me. “Oh right, acting shy to get girls is more your style,” Stiles replied, with no real malice in his tone. It almost sounded like they were flirting with each other.

Isaac rolled his eyes. He turned to me, caught me watching him. His expression changed, becoming softer. He leaned forward, his lips gently trailing down my neck. Stiles laid me flat on my bed. They both laid on either side of me.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Isaac asked.

“Yes,” I answered breathlessly. “I want you. Both of you.”

part 2 is coming.

#daniel sharman imagine #daniel sharman #dylan obrien #stiles stilinski imagine #dylan obrien imagine #stiles stilinski smut #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey #I COULDNT POST THE LAST PART WHERE THE 3WAY HAPPENS IM SORRY #ITS TOO S*XUAL????#i'll post it later after i make it less uhh *intense*

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skelanonymous · 3 years

Text

First - Killermare

Words - 3.1k

I decided I needed more happy Killermare, even though I’ve literally written a ton of it. I should write literally anybody else next…>_>

Killer entered into the kitchen with a tense back, casually perusing the fridge with a wince. He’d taken a hard hit on the side during the last fight with the Stars. Probably cracked something, but nothing was falling off so he didn’t bother too much with it. His determination would hold him together.

He grabbed the carton of milk and took a swig straight from the container.

“Other people use that you know.”

“Too bad for them.” Killer turned around to grin at Nightmare. He’d recently gotten into his Boss’s VERY good graces and no broken bones were going to keep him out of it. “Well if it isn’t small, dark, and Lovecraftian.” That got a chuckle, a rare thing to hear from Nightmare. It made his target soul ache something awful, hearing that cute sound and not being able to do anything with it, not nearly close enough to Nightmare to capitalize on the opportunity.

“As good with words as with a knife, hmmm?” Nightmare stood in his space, touching along his arm unconsciously. Killer tried to keep his mouth in check.

“I’m also pretty good with my hands.” God damn idiot brain, hitting on his fucking god level boss. There’s fucking with people and there’s shooting out of your league. He just smiled through it. “Whatcha need Boss?”

“I’m moving a wing of the library and needed an extra pair of hands.”

“And you knew how talented mine were, so you came right to me?” Killer slid the milk back into the refrigerator. He leaned back on his left side to keep from agitating the right, elbows on the counter, a picture of relaxation.

“Something like that.” Nightmare laughed again. Killer held in the pleased sigh, standing up, crossing his arms behind his head very delicately.

“I’m all yours Boss. Lead the way.”

They wandered down the hall directly towards the library, Killer keeping step just behind Nightmare, letting him stare all he wanted without being caught. Those strong thick tentacles swayed around his back, framing his ass for Killer to appreciate along the lengthy hallways. He rarely went over this way unless Night summoned him here.

Nightmare already cleared small sections away, stacks of meticulously organized books littering the floor. He gestured to a pile.

“Start here and work clockwise. I’ve laid it out to make it easy enough for you to do without me babysitting your progress.”

So began replacing them on the shelves. Killer hid the winces of pain from stooping and bending fairly well, silently moving until he hit a tiny snag. He reached up to place one on a tall shelf when he flinched into the wall.

His body hit the shelves and dislodged an avalanche onto his head. He almost moved away before one smashed into his cracked ribs.

"Son of a fucking bitch!

"Killer!" Nightmare raced over to unbury him. The tentacles made quick work of them, stacking haphazardly off of Killer’s winded form. His hands were on Killer’s forehead in an instant, checking for cracks, diligently looking over him after hearing the cry of pain. Killer groaned angrily when he was cleared off.

“Fucking Blue and his fucking blue attacks. Ugh.” Killer couldn’t sit up, pain still blossoming fresh in his chest. Night paused in looking him over.

“Were you wounded on the last mission?” His single eye penetrated his two, pinning him under it until he relented, grimacing with a gesture to his ribs he’d been carefully avoiding.

“Yeah. Stars got a good hit in on me. Was fine until the book hit it though.”

“Clearly not, considering you lost your usually impeccable balance!” Nightmare’s tentacles wrapped Killer up to get him standing without making him bend the wounded area. “Come with me. Healing magic is easiest when accompanied by intent, wrapping it will make it easier.” He grumbled and took off towards his room, Killer hobbling after to keep up.

Walking into Night’s room changed the mood. He suddenly felt out of place, surrounded by luxurious purples tones and dark wooden furniture. Night had gestured to the bed before wandering into his private bathroom.

His bed was comfortable. Killer’s nerves ruined any enjoyment of getting into Nightmare’s room, jittery from the moment he was directed to sit on the plush comforters. Nightmare returned with a roll of bandages and an unimpressed look.

“I thought you were smart enough to know how to care for yourself.” He moved in front of him. “Take off your jacket and t-shirt.”

Thankfully Night was too focused on unraveling the bandages and gathering antiseptic to see Killer’s face go red, suddenly very aware that he was in his boss’s room, said boss’s hands about to be on him after a request to undress. He pulled them off smooth and casual, but his grin practically cracked at the edges.

“What the hell?”

Night’s hands hovered over the cracked ribs, flinching back at the small break that Killer had dislodged from its setting.

“Yeah, it’s not great.”

“Killer!” Night growled at him. “Why didn’t you seek treatment before THIS?!” He gestured to the crumbled ends of the break from grinding against each other. “This is entirely fucking curable! It’s ridiculous you didn’t, at the very least, wrap this!” The growl travelled up his body, baring his teeth at him, tentacles cracking like whips at his back. Killer didn’t move, but his voice took on a nervous edge.

“I’m a dead man walking boss. I’ll just keep going forward until I can’t anymore.” Healing magic was taxing. All of them were terrible at it besides Nightmare, who never offered, only taking over when he was clearly needed. They never want to bother him to ask for it.

“I could’ve fixed this sooner.” Nightmare pinched the bone into place with a click. Killer gasped in pain. He wrapped it tightly, uncaring about Killer’s harsh pants while doing so.

“We only take it when you offer. None of us wanna annoy you.” Fuck, he was so falling out of Night’s good graces for this. After he worked so hard, some dumb break was gunna take him back to zero. He fisted the plush comforter. “Your time is important.”

“To whom, when you dust from accumulating injuries that I can’t see?”

“The multiverse I guess.”

“The multiverse doesn’t give a shit about me or my time. This is all I have.” Nightmare pinched his nasal crest after finishing. “You serve me, but I cannot do this alone. Your lives are valuable to me. I thought you, especially, would know this Killer."

"Why do ya say that?"

"Because of how important you are to me." Nightmare's hands grew warm with gathering magic, mending now that everything would heal correctly. "All of you are valuable, like the supporting beams holding the castle aloft, but you are more integral. You are the center pillar. As my right hand, as long as you stand, I have faith in my ability to recover. I believed you to be my most valuable asset, but if you’re going to just let yourself turn to dust, then I’ll-”

“No!” Killer’s soul snapped into a heart shape, eyelights flickering in time to meet Night’s inquisitive gaze. “I’m not dusting on you just like that.” He grabbed Night’s warm hands away, taking them up in front of his startled cyan face.

“K-Killer?” He brought them up and kissed the phalanges as one would do to their king.

“If you’ll continue as long as I am by your side, then I’ll remain with you until I die.” Killer’s sockets went half-lidded, struck by the emotion his inverted soul let in, his silly crush amplified ten-fold by Nightmare’s faith in him. He’d never seen his boss look so confused, eye wide and frantically searching Killer’s. “What’s wrong boss?”

“You-I’m...what’s-why all-”Killer’s hands had long since gained a mind of their own. He slid wordlessy off the bed into Night’s space, silencing him with a casual touch on the cheek, fondly caressing the bright greenish glow.

“Shouldn’t have told me I meant so much to ya cuz I’m gunna take that to heart.” Then he swooped down to kiss him.

Killer pressed their teeth together firmly, tilting their heads to line up for deepening the kiss. He relaxed into it, holding Nightmare close while getting a taste, slowly touching and teasing Night's tongue with playful flicks. He could feel the very hesitant kiss back before they parted for air.

"Feeling shy Nightmare? Don't worry. I'm bold enough for the both of us."

Killer laughed into the next one, leaning into it to force Night's response, groaning at the feel of the shy tongue in his own mouth. He could feel his small partner shaking in his arms when they broke apart.

"Killer…" It must've been awhile since Nightmare got with anyone to sound so needy.

"I'm here. Wanna have some fun Nightmare?" He whispered it into Night's ear, smiling at the trembling he could still feel against his ribs, lost in the heady feeling. Night devolved to breathy pants, which Killer dove into before he felt tentacles lay solidly against his chest to push him back.

"Killer, wait, I can't-I'm not prepared for this." Night's flushed face told a different story, but he didn't fancy being killed.

"I've got lots of patience. I'll just make you feel good until you are." Killer's mouth slid down to Night’s neck, sucking on the bone to the high pitched whines, sending all his thoughts south, ecto eager to form at the slightest provocation. His haze broke under the Night's firm push out of his space.

"Killer, stop."

His back connected with the bed, wincing from his still (though much less so) wounded bones. The rejection stung worse.

"Sorry boss." That HURT, knowing he'd fucked up pretty royally. God, he'd forced himself on Nightmare right after he'd been given a shred of attention. He was such a fucking idiot. "I'll keep my hands to myself." His eyelights poofed decisively. He almost couldn't bear to look at him, but he needed to see Nightmare's face at least once.

Night hadn't stopped shaking. His tentacles attempted to hide him from view, face fully blushing, head still tilted away from the fresh mark Killer had left, noises leaking unfiltered from his trembling body.

"S-s-sorry. I-I c-can't handle it-t. Too much." Killer grabbed his shirt and hoodie from where it lay beside him.

"I'll leave you be. Maybe annoy Horror or something, I don't know." Anything to not be here. Playing it off would make it easier to take, even if it meant no second chances with Night. He slid his clothes back on. "Come find me when you got the next mission lined up."

A tentacle wrapped around his ankle before he took the first step.

"Why are you leaving?" His voice was airy, light, breathless.

"I'm a dick, but not that much of one. I went too far, I'll give ya some space for a day." He shrugged, a drop of hate splashing on the floor. He'd describe his emotions as 'in shambles.'

"I don't want space. I just need a minute."

"I don't know Boss. Shouldn't rush that kind of thing." He could stomach taking advantage of people outside of this castle, but betraying the ones inside it, those who guarded his back and knew where he slept (and cared about but he'd never tell them that), it turned his mood sour. It ate at the pit of his stomach and it’d eat through him entirely if he didn’t get the fuck outta dodge.

"What thing?"

"Being assaulted, harassed, whatever you wanna call it. And being the person who forced themselves upon ya, don't think I should be here." He tugged at his ankle again, but Night hadn't relented.

"Killer, I didn't stop you because I didn't want it." He avoided Killer's eye roll.

"Uh-huh." Killer really didn't want to resort to cutting off the tentacle. It wouldn't hurt him, but it'd suck and prove he was an asshole, so he pulled harder. "Say I believed you. Then why?"

"Killer, I…" Nightmare looked like he wanted the carpet to swallow him. "I've never kissed anyone."

"...What?" He stopped struggling against his restraint. "There's no way. You're telling me, five hundred years of existing, and you hadn’t had your first kiss?"

"Yes." And Killer commited a cardinal sin without thinking.

"But Dream definit-" Is fucking Ink or Blue or Cross or all of them, he wanted to say, but Night was quicker.

"I am aware." Nightmare's glare was potent, but Killer's confusion was denser. "But he is lovable, unlike me."

"You're lovable." It slipped out in-between all the mental gymnastics. He wasn't sure he wasn't being fucked with still. "So you haven't…" How to phrase this delicately, he wondered. "...slept with anyone?"

"Killer, I haven't kissed anyone. Why the fuck would I have slept with someone?"

"You gotta know how unbelievable this is." Talking wouldn't reassure him, so Killer leaned down into Night's space again, stopping just shy of his teeth. "You're telling me that someone as fuckable as you's been ignored all this time?" Nightmare's single eye widened with the flush. Killer smoothed out his tone, dropping it low to hold him at the edge of his words. "Nice juicy peach you are, no one's tried to pluck you up? I can barely look without salivatin'." He lapped at his teeth, careful to keep his hands in safe places. He wanted to see how inexperienced Night really was without ruining his chances forever.

Nightmare's tentacles laid limp behind him, all the tremors coming from his real form, whose hands had raised to snatch at the shoulders of his hoodie, gripping tightly when he caved under the languid licks at his mouth by letting Killer in.

Patience led this one, Killer carefully taking over every inch of Night's mouth. The slower pace served to work up his partner faster. Nightmare's calmness abated, tentacles waking up to come and clutch at Killer's form, Night crawling onto him, transforming the kiss into a frenzy of desire that Killer surrendered to, as long as Night was leading the way. The tentacles touched plenty of hot spots, but he kept his own hands on innocent ground. Night's confidence could crumble under too much of a good thing.

"Take a breath, Nightlight." Night shivered against him after breaking apart, so much sensation his body was unaccustomed to. "I gotcha." Killer rubbed soothing circles into his back.

"I can see how that could escalate." Nightmare finally got out. It made him laugh.

"Yeah. It's pretty easy to get carried away." He kissed the top of his skull before laughing again. "You give handsy a whole new meaning though."

"Sorry." The sweet little monster in his arms barely resembled his boss, hiding his face by burrowing into Killer's chest.

"Don't be. It's pretty hot." His lewd grin made Night blush again.

"I would've thought my corruption would be the ugliest and most disgusting part of me." He punctuated it with said appendages undulating behind him.

"Boss, I just kissed the fuck outta you and I've never known you without it. Trust me, not a deterrent." Killer stroked down one to make Night's spine curl. "If you learn how to use ‘em right, they're pretty useful in the bedroom."

"Don't call me Boss when we're like this." Night whispered softly. His face caught between a glare and something soft, he was starting to come back to his senses.

"That might be too much power Nightlight." He grinned at the tiny glare. "How was your first kiss then?"

"Nice." Nightmare sighed as he sat up, unfurling all the aching limbs. The usual persona rebuilt itself. But now, Killer knew how easy the composure was to break. "I'd like to repeat it sometime."

"I'm all yours." He'd never get sick of that face if Night was willing to let him see it. They rose together from the floor, Night reestablishing the space between them.

"I'll have to talk to the others about not bringing injuries to me. Time spent on them is not time wasted." He straightened his sweater, presentable before opening the door. Killer choked the urge down to mess it up again. “The idea that you would’ve rather lost a rib than speak to me is absurd.”

"Yeah." They better not take his catch. Fuck them.

"I'm not going to kiss them Killer. The sour look is atrocious on you." Night's brow raised. Caught red handed. Killer laughed.

"Can you blame me? I know the kind of filthy degenerates who live here; I'm one of them. I don't want 'em to take a bite outta you." Subconsciously, he shook his sleeves to feel the weight of his multiple blades.

"You act as though there are many vying for my affection. People used to throw rocks at me for walking by their homes, and now they try to kill me. I'm not surrounded by suitors." He said this while walking down the hall towards the still upturned library. His strides were confident, power inherent is his manner, carried with a royal grace that Killer could only ape with minimal success. The only reason he wasn't swamped with competition was everyone had been too chickenshit to make a move.

"Ya also thought I wasn't interested and nothing has ever been less fucking true." He pushed his luck a little further, stepping in front of Nightmare to kiss him quickly. The chaste thing was almost too much considering the shakes. "I'll just keep doing it if ya don't say anything."

“We need to reassemble the library.” He huffed through, walking by with weak knees, Killer trailing just behind. “This wasn’t an invitation to touch me at all times.”

“Only some of the time then?”

“Shut up.” He humored the request once inside Night’s treasured library.

Back to quietly organizing, clockwise, his talented hands flipped them onto shelves with ease now that he wasn’t hindered by aches. It was quick and effortless like it should have been the first time. He’d begun humming by the time he placed the last one, not expecting the hand on his shoulder but welcoming it as he had earlier the same day. Night silently pressed something into his palm.

“I trust I don’t need to explain.” Killer’s fingers closed over the silver key, smiling and spinning it on his pointer while leaving the now neat library. Guess his league was a lot wider than he thought. It wasn’t an invitation to his bed, but the invitation to his heart was just as good.

“Gotcha loud and clear boss. See ya soon.”

They CUTE.

#story time #killermare #nightkiller #first kiss uwu #I got lots of feels

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hurricanery · 3 years

Text

If the Sun Comes Up - pt. 4

A/N: Hi, it’s been a while, but here’s part 4 of If the Sun Comes Up! (AU - interns fic). This is me ignoring s17!!! Sorry for the delay, this has been repeatedly deleted from my drafts for the last week & then i didn’t even edit or make changes SO idk what all that was for. anyway thank you for sticking with this story! Previous parts here: part 1 // part 2 // part 3

Or, you can read on ao3.

_______

And so it starts, you switch the engine on

We set controls for the heart of the sun

One of the ways we show our age

_______

She has no idea how she got here. Or more specifically, how she could be pressured into something like this. Maggie typically prided herself on standing firm; standing her own ground and refusing to be swayed by others. But none of that self-proclamation holds true right now.

Because she’s here. Driving Winston’s car. Trunk filled to capacity and two of her roommates squeezed into the backseat.

The hypocrisy of it all is almost infuriating. Because Maggie hates camping.

“I hate camping,” she voices her detest out loud.

An apologetic sigh can be heard from Winston next to her, where he sits passenger side. But ultimately, it’s Amelia’s voice that grabs her attention, the bewilderment making itself known from the backseat.

“Oh, come on,” there’s an element of disbelief to her tone, and Maggie locks eyes with her through the rear-view mirror.

“Step out of your comfort zone a little, Maggie!” She raises her eyebrows, beginning to gesture with her hands. Link shuffles in his seat, where he’s squeezed in tightly beside Amelia, in an attempt to free up a little space for her body language. Some of the camping supplies had ended up packed over half of the backseat, and Maggie can’t help but chuckle at the proximity of Amelia’s hand to Link’s face as she gestures absentmindedly. “It’s camping. It’s adventurous, it’s-”

Maggie has since focused back on the road, but the sudden pause in speech makes her feel uneasy. Amelia’s focus shifts from the packaged tent next to her, to the back of Winston’s head, and then back to Maggie.

“It’s sleeping in a tent,” she continues, a spark of gleam in her eyes as she scans the couple in the front seat. “Or, maybe it’s not sleeping. Hey, I mean, whatever the two of you-”

“Amelia,” Maggie cuts in, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter as Winston’s hand comes to rest on her knee, giving it a soothing squeeze.

“Come on, babe,” Winston murmurs. “It’ll be fun. And plus, Karev would definitely be proud of us.”

Maggie grins a little, despite herself.

They’d been a bit all over the place, as a group of interns. A little bit too chaotic and never fully on the same page. As their resident, Karev was constantly voicing his impatience about the dynamics of the group. She partly thinks that yes, Alex would be proud of the bonding journey that they’d chosen to embark on, but the more realist part of her brain can’t ignore the obviousness that being roommates was probably bonding enough.

Maggie peeks in the rear-view once more, this time checking to make sure that Lexie and Jo are still following in the car behind them. She catches Amelia’s stare again and consequently feels the need to brace herself.

“Babe?” Amelia bites her lip, repeating the pet name Winston had just used. “What happened to ‘we’re just friends?’”

“We are friends.” Maggie sighs, trying her best to ignore the amusement that radiates from Winston at this specific call-out.

“And Link and I are friends,” Amelia’s quick with her rebuttal, tilting her head towards Link. “I don’t go around calling him babe.”

Link sucks in a breath, and then another one, with the addition of Amelia’s afterthought. “But maybe I’ll start.”

It’s subtle. The way Link’s face changes. He hides it just as quickly as it surfaces. But it’s there, she hasn’t imagined it, and it’s the first thing to make Maggie genuinely smile for the length of the trip so far.

“I’m kidding,” Amelia nudges Link with her shoulder. “I can come up with a better nickname than that.”

“Okay enough,” Maggie suppresses the grin she feels spreading across her cheeks. She reaches forward for the knob on the dashboard, turning the music up.

Link’s relief at the diversion tactic is almost palpable. Maggie can practically feel it from the backseat. She thinks maybe the feeling rising in her chest equates to sympathy.

She loves Amelia. She really does. Which is saying a lot, especially for her. It takes effort for her to grow comfortable with people, or to even relate on any level. She’s always felt a step ahead of most people in life. But Amelia really challenges her. It’s only been a couple of months since they’d met, and somewhere along the way, things changed. Amelia’s unpredictable nature had shifted from something Maggie initially feared, to something she appreciates. Like the human embodiment of the push she needs. The push she needs to take things less seriously, or the push she needs to open up and be spontaneous. Whatever the case, it’s never felt more necessary. Like she’s been missing out on it for too long. So, she tries to embrace it at every turn.

“Are we almost there?” Amelia pipes up again from the backseat. “I have to pee, and believe me, I’m down for a little side-of-the-road action if that’s what it comes down to-”

Maggie groans impatiently. But then she remembers about embracing it. So decidedly, her next words sound gentle. “We’re almost there, hold it together.”

_______

It ends up taking two full hours for six surgical interns to figure out how to set up a campsite. And even though the task is grueling, the level of teamwork somehow exceeds what they normally display during a typical hospital shift.

The sun starts to set as the second of the two tents finally stands on it’s own and everyone takes a moment to finally relax.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Link sits back against the tree on the outskirts of their surrounding area.

Jo huffs out a breath as she joins him, rolling her eyes. “That was two hours of my life that I’ll never get back.”

“What’s next?” Amelia steps out of the larger tent, pulling a sweatshirt over her head. “Does anyone know how to build a bonfire?”

_______

She has no idea how it got to this. How six grown adults could resort to immature party games around a campfire and feel so content about it. Maggie had been relieved when the game of ‘truth or dare’ ended as quickly as it started. She’d been hoping for something a bit more intellectual. A little less high school.

Unfortunately her hopes were never granted.

“Wait, I feel like the stakes aren’t high enough.” Amelia had tossed the observation out flimsily.

But the observation had its impact.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

And then the ideas had piled on.

“Loser has to cover my scut work in the ER all week.”

“No way.”

“Loser has to make us each a s'more.”

“Nah. Stakes not high enough.”

“Loser has to jump in the lake.”

Amelia had voiced the last one, resulting in a surprised type of silence. The type of silence that could raise stakes.

It was the ultimatum they were looking for, apparently. And to much of Maggie’s dismay, they hadn’t moved on to an intellectual game. Nothing worth raising the stakes over, at least.

Because they’d settled on a game of ‘never have I ever.’

“Okay, okay. My turn. What have I not done…?” Amelia trails off, deep in thought, and it earns some chuckles from the group. “Oh! Never have I ever had a threesome.”

Suspectful eyes dart around the bonfire, and Link’s attempt to conspicuously fold down a finger fails.

“Link!”

Jo giggles hysterically.

“You have?” There’s surprise in Amelia’s voice, and it corresponds with the way her face lights up.

“You haven’t?” Link bites back.

“Well, almost, I guess. But-”

“Okay!” Jo interjects. “No need for context! That’ll just slow us down. Link, your turn.”

“Okay,” Link grins determinedly across the bonfire, eyes landing on Amelia. “Never have I ever almost had a threesome.”

Amelia scoffs, dropping a finger.

“Wait!” Maggie fast-tracks her disapproval. “Are we singling people out now? The game will end too quickly if we-”

“Never have I ever been named after an iconic literary figure.” Amelia jumps in again, completely ignoring Maggie’s objection.

Link drops a finger, rolling his eyes. Too easy.

“Never have I ever slept with Mark Sloan.”

He sounds proud of this one. And all focus drifts to Amelia, whose eyes narrow only slightly as she drops another finger.

“You did what?” Maggie seems skeptical.

“You did what? When?” And Lexie’s voice sounds strained.

“Shit, sorry. Too far?” Link’s pride genuinely replaces itself with worry.

“I never meant for it to be a secret.” There’s something distinct about Amelia’s tone as she jumps back into the game, clearly with the intention of going after Link again. “Never have I ever-”

“No!” Maggie seems to be the only one intervening at this point. “No, stop. My turn. If we play it your way, this game will be over in two seconds.”

Amelia and Link shrug dismissively amidst the general hums of agreement.

“Never have I ever…” Maggie pauses, taking a moment to truly think on it. She racks her brain for ways to prolong the game. “Never have I ever been arrested!”

Amelia slowly drops her last finger, a grimace consuming her face, and Maggie’s mouth opens wide in shock.

“Amelia, what,” she breathes. “I was trying to keep people in the game. What-”

“We agreed on no context!” Amelia is quick to refute, forcing a grin as she repeats the request spoken earlier.

“Okay….” She draws out her response, and the next part of her sentence sounds quiet, or laced with secondhand defeat. “But you lost the game already.”

“That’s fine,” Amelia is just as quick to stand from her chair, shrugging casually at what that entails.

“Amelia-”

“To the lake? Or am I doing this without witnesses?”

Maggie’s brows furrow at the bitterness that exists in that question, but then Amelia turns, walking away from them, and Maggie is the first to go after her.

_______

"Amelia, you’re the one who made the rule. You can’t back out now.”

They’re all huddled together at the sandy area near the dock that edges out into the dark lake, and Maggie can’t hold back her impatience. She’s a rule-follower, after all. She's also cold. And she just wants to be by the bonfire again.

“I know, I know. I’m….” Amelia trails off, exhaling harshly. “Just give me a minute.”

There’s momentary quiet. The kind of quiet that nearly gives room for everyone to re-think what’s about to happen. But, if anyone's thoughts were the loudest, they were Amelia’s.

“The sun was still out when I made up this rule!”

That’s true. Maggie can give her that. It’s late now, purely dark outside except for the glow of the moonlight reflecting off of the lake.

“We don’t know what’s in there…” Amelia adds, eyes focused on the body of water before them. “We don’t know if it’s safe to swim here.”

“It’s a state park,” Winston chuckles.

“And there’s a sign right there,” Lexie adds matter-of-factly, nodding towards the edge of the sand. “No lifeguard on duty. Swim at your own risk.”

“Amelia, it's a swimming beach.”

There’s an element to Amelia’s expression that Maggie sees herself in. It provokes that feeling. The heart-lurching feeling that comes with the awareness that you can’t bring yourself to do the thing you intend to do. The restlessness that rises with the opposition of your mind moving miles a minute but your feet remaining frozen where you stand. It takes place in the nervous system. And it’s like the physical manifestation of not being able to rip the bandaid off, or not being able to take the plunge, to be more literal in this scenario.

Suddenly, Maggie’s hit with the fleeting recognition that everyone’s the same deep down. Some were just better at hiding it than others.

The revelation almost makes her feel sympathy. Almost.

Because Amelia’s version of hiding it was turning out to be displaced over-confidence.

“I knew you were all talk and no-”

“I’ll jump in with you,” Link interrupts, nudging Amelia, who shakes from her daze as she turns away from the lake, locking eyes with Link.

“Shit, I’m down, too,” Jo shrugs. “I’m right behind you guys.”

A look of pure skepticism crosses Amelia’s face, and Link just starts to grin, hugely.

“No,” Maggie breathes. “No, no, no.”

Because she knows what this is about to turn into. And then it’s all happening, fast.

Link is stripping down to his boxers, tossing his clothes into a pile on the grass just left of the dock. And then he’s running. His feet clamber against the wood paneling as he takes off over the structure that extends along the shore and into the body of water.

There’s a huge splash. And then he resurfaces, gasping.

“It’s not that deep, come on!” He yells. “And it’s warm, too. Like a hot tub!”

The next thing Maggie registers is that Jo is following suit, peeling off her sweatshirt and tossing it towards Link’s pile of clothes.

She feels Winston’s hand grip her shoulders, gently pushing her towards the dock as he murmurs “Come on, babe.”

There’s another splash somewhere, and then Jo resurfaces, giggling hysterically. "Link!” She gasps dramatically, “You liar, this is fucking freezing!”

And all Maggie can think is this is so unfair.

_______

It’s so unfair.

The fact that five people have somehow endured jumping into this lake and yet, Amelia remains unscathed. Secure, on dry land, a smirk on her face that can only signify that she thinks she’s won.

“Amelia!” Maggie yells once again. “You have thirty seconds to get into this water.”

“Maggie-”

“No way,” Maggie cuts her off before the smug tone can set her off even further. She lets go of Winston’s shoulder, which she’s been holding onto for dear life since she jumped in, and she swims closer to the dock. Closer to Amelia. “I won’t let you play us like this.”

Amelia grins further, dipping just her toes in the water. “Maggie, I’m not trying to play anyone, I-”

“Get in the water, Amelia!” Maggie shouts, but her impatience only leads to more smugness on Amelia’s behalf.

She almost gives up. Accepts defeat. But then Link is joining her, inching towards Amelia on the dock, whose expression falters only slightly as they approach.

“Should we splash her?” Maggie tilts her head towards Link, inquisitive edge to her voice. “We could splash her.”

The threat seems to be the push Amelia needs. She shakes her head incessantly as they make their advance, and she takes a deep breath before she goes to remove her jeans, adding them to the pile of clothes that everyone else has stripped off.

Jo whistles from somewhere further out into the lake and Amelia’s smirk returns, a complete result of the knowledge that she has an audience. Her classic Harvard sweatshirt gets added to the pile and then she’s on an even playing field with everyone else, dressed down to whatever underwear she’d thrown on this morning.

They continue their approach, and Amelia looks down just as a burst of wind forcibly shakes the branches of a tree above, thus causing her to wrap her arms around herself.

“You’ll warm up faster if you get in, Shepherd.” Link says in a low tone.

“I know,” Amelia’s tone is just as low. “But I’m not jumping.”

“What happened to adventurous?!” Maggie mocks her. Not harshly, but more so aiming to re-inspire the fearlessness that previously had been.

“I’m not jumping in,” Amelia repeats as she sits at the edge of the dock, letting the water hit her up to about mid-shin. “I’m just gonna kind of slide in….” She trails off as Link pushes forward, now in shallow enough water to stand. And when Amelia goes to wrap her arms around herself again, Maggie swears it’s out of modesty this time.

“It’s harder that way,” Link smiles up at her. “But okay.”

“Okay,” she repeats his sentiment, but doesn’t make any move to get into the water.

“Okay,” Maggie interjects, directing her next words at Link. “As apparently the only rule-follower here, I give you full permission to do whatever it takes to get her into this water already.”

Her instructions result in a mischievous twitch of Link’s lips, and conversely, a look of complete betrayal from Amelia.

“Your rules.” Maggie quietly defends herself.

Link turns back to Amelia, who meets his gaze with pure panic in her eyes. But he steps closer anyway, placing his hands around her shins and pulling her a couple inches closer to where he stands in the water.

She gasps. Her hands fly out, landing on his shoulders. “Wait wait wait!” She cries, the alarm in her voice matching the frantic action of her nails digging into his skin.

Link stops his movements, placing his hands on her knees as he tries to read her facial expression.

Her eyes dart between his. “You swear it’s not too cold?”

“It’s not cold, Amelia,” he murmurs, moving his hands underneath her bare thighs and pulling her forward an inch more.

Maggie looks between the two, suddenly feeling out of place, or like she’s witnessing a private moment. But, she can’t tear her eyes away. She feels transfixed by the eye contact happening between the pair, and she lets out a stunned chuckle.

“It’s not cold,” Link repeats, and now Maggie scoffs. Because this moment is becoming almost unbelievable with tension. But then Link’s expression changes. Just as quickly as flipping a switch. The facet of mischief returns to his eyes and then he’s opening his mouth again.

“And I’m so sorry for this!” He shouts as he finally pulls Amelia into the water, throwing his head back with laughter as she resurfaces before him.

Her arms are still wrapped around his shoulders in a viselike grip. “Alright, screw you for that!” She laughs as she comes to her senses, consequently letting go and distancing herself from Link. “But thank you, I guess."

“My pleasure.”

Maggie watches, eyes burning with curiosity, and she’s not able to hide the smile that creeps onto her lips as the pair move as far away from each other as possible. The interaction is way too amusing, and part of her feels like, if she were the menacing type, this would be the perfect opportunity to pay back some of Amelia’s relentless teasing with some of her own.

“Can we get out now?” Lexie swims up, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m kinda over this.”

“I just got in. Was that for no reason?!”

“And whose fault is that?” Maggie snickers. But it doesn’t sound harsh at all, as she offers Amelia a comforting smile.

When they eventually leave the shoreline, Maggie feels a sense of fondness course through her. Or maybe protectiveness. Whatever the feeling, it was definitely the stark opposite of her previous annoyance with the way the evening was turning out.

She carefully observes as Amelia slows behind the group, and she slows with her, matching her pace.

Amelia offers her a small smile, before a shiver takes over her body, interrupting her guise. It makes sense, Maggie thinks. Because soaking wet hair and the sun going down in the middle of nowhere might just bring on that sort of involuntary action.

But she can’t ignore the shift in energy. The sudden vanishing of the confidence and even the playful competitiveness.

“You okay?” She eventually asks.

“Tired.” Amelia only offers a shrug, her thumbnail nearly reaching the corner of her mouth in a restless action. But it’s like she catches herself, as Maggie’s stare burns into her, and instead she drops her hands to her sides.

“Me too,” Maggie’s voice is soft, and an impulse rises in her that screams comfort. Suddenly, her arm is wrapping around Amelia’s shoulder tightly, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get some sleep.”

_______

It’s a known fact that Maggie hates camping. She can think of several reasons for that. One of the side effects she’d fail to consider, though, was the consequent lack of rest that would come with it.

It couldn’t be any later than 5am, she concludes, as she unzips her and Winston’s tent and steps out into the dark campground.

To much of her surprise, she’s not alone. She’s not the only one experiencing the unwanted side effects of sleeping in a tent.

“Hey,” Amelia’s voice sounds gravelly, as she perks up from the chair she’s seated at around the empty bonfire. “Good morning.”

“How can it be morning?” Maggie groans. “Does it really count as morning when you didn’t get any sleep at all?”

“You’re preaching to the choir.”

Maggie frowns. “You didn’t sleep?”

“Link snores. And Lexie talks in her sleep….” Amelia weakly attempts a smile, and it just makes Maggie’s frown deepen.

“Everything alright?” She asks.

“Yeah, just wish I’d slept better.”

Maggie squints, because there’s detail there that she can’t quite decipher. She scans Amelia’s face another moment, before an idea strikes.

“Do you want to go on a hike with me? Watch the sunrise?”

“You don’t really seem like the hiking type.”

“You’re right. I guess ‘hike’ is a strong word. But anyway, how about it?”

Amelia stares blankly at her for a long moment, before eventually she nods, standing up.

“Alright,” Maggie grins. “Let me tell Winston where we’re going first.”

_______

They take a marked path. Signs at every turn highlight for them which way to go. It’s a few minutes into the hike before either of them speaks. It’s Amelia who opens up the conversation.

“Ready to be home?”

Maggie laughs. “Absolutely. I’ve been ready since the moment we got here.”

“Well, hopefully they have the cars all packed by the time we get back.”

Maggie nods, then reaches for the water bottle she’d brought with her, taking a few sips.

“Do I tease you and Winston too much?”

The question completely catches Maggie off guard, and she harshly swallows her sip of water.

“Huh?”

“I can be….a little overbearing sometimes. But,” Amelia offers a quick side-glance. “At least I’m self aware about that.”

“Not at all. I mean, honestly, Winston gets a kick out of it so-”

“Yeah, but do you?”

Maggie stops walking, her face muddled with confusion. It takes Amelia a moment to realize she’s stopped, and she turns around, meeting Maggie’s stare expectantly.

“Amelia….If it bothered me I would tell you.”

Amelia nods at this information, and then turns away, continuing on the path.

“Was I too harsh last night? About the rules of the game?” Maggie quickens her pace, catching up.

“No,” Amelia laughs under her breath. “We needed the discipline, I think.”

“Yeah but you didn’t need to jump into that lake. I can be a little of overbearing sometimes, too, so-”

“Nah. We balance each other out.”

Maggie squints, a little surprised by that observation. She’s taken aback by the accuracy of it, and it’s evident in her inflection.

“We kind of do, don’t we?”

Amelia beams at her, before her gaze returns to the path below. “I’m glad we came to that realization.”

Comfortable silence falls between them, and there’s a few minutes dedicated purely to the hike, before Amelia clears her throat to speak again.

“Although, I am trying to jump less. So maybe I need you to balance me out just a little more.”

“You lost me,” Maggie quirks an eyebrow at her. “Are we talking about the lake still?”

“Metaphorically. Maybe.”

Maggie’s expression just grows more perplexed, urging Amelia to continue.

“I’ve been….historically known to jump into things. Or people. Or habits, or…” She cuts herself off with a harsh breath, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’d like to do that less. The whole….jumping blindly and hoping I’ll land, thing. So. Maybe I need you to balance me out a little more.”

Maggie nods, slowly grasping the explanation. “I get that.”

“Do you?”

“Well, no,” Maggie frowns. “I’ve never been one to….do anything, really, without weighing the pros and cons first. But, I do get what you’re saying, though. Even if I can’t personally relate.”

Amelia keeps her eyes glued to the path ahead, and the lack of response forces Maggie to attempt filling the silence with her own self-reflection.

“I’ve been thinking of taking a note from you, in that way, actually. Sometimes I really need to think less.”

This makes Amelia smile. “Maybe we can try to meet in the middle somewhere.”

“Yeah, that might be good for us.”

As the conversation trails off again, Maggie can’t help but question what specifically Amelia is referencing. She doesn’t want to push, especially given her recent self-proclamation as overbearing. But part of her thinks that one last inquiry won’t hurt.

“You and Link seem to have fun.”

Amelia’s eyes snap up to Maggie’s face before the sentence is even finished.

“What makes you say that?”

There’s not an ounce of emotion in Amelia’s expression. It’s probably the best poker face Maggie has ever seen. And so she’s careful with her next words, her voice slow and questioning.

“I just mean....you know….the banter?”

“Banter?”

“Yes the banter, Amelia,” she lets out a stunned chuckle. “I don’t know how else to put it! It’s like you’re constantly play-fighting. It’s like….it’s like this weird, alluring competitiveness that’s almost uncomfortable to watch. It’s being at each other’s throats over a stupid game of ‘never have I ever.’ It’s the craziest form of flirting I’ve ever witnessed, and it’s-”

“Link and I are friends.”

“Winston and I are friends.” She bites down on her grin, trying to contain the pride that radiates as she uses Amelia’s own pointed claims against her.

“Okay, don’t pull that on me.”

“I think it’s perfectly fair-”

“Maggie.”

“Amelia.”

Two pairs of eyes tighten upon scrutinized contact.

“Amelia,” she softens her expression a bit. “All I’m saying is….despite it being weird to watch.” She releases an awkward exhale. “I think it works. I think you’ve kinda met your match.”

“There’s no match to be made, Maggie! I’m-”

They’re both a little caught off guard by the frustration and volume of Amelia’s tone. And Amelia takes a moment to breathe before she continues, an octave lower this time.

“I’m jumping less, remember?”

Maggie wants to frown. She wants to disagree. She almost wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

But they’re edging towards the outskirts of the campsite. She can hear voices, and the distinct sound of car trunks slamming shut. Which signifies that they’re nearing the end of the hike, so she bites her tongue instead, because Amelia looks too exhausted to argue it more.

They clear the trees, entering the campground, and Winston watches them approach.

“Hey! Cars are packed, but it’ll be a tight squeeze again,” he smiles sympathetically. He walks forward to rest his hands on Maggie’s shoulders in familiar reassurance. “And you get to sleep in the car, because this time I’m driving.”

_______

Maggie doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

Her lack of sleep the night prior results in Winston’s refusal to let her drive. Which only bothers her a little, because the exhaustion outweighs her requisite for control.

Her eyes feel heavy as she rests her head against the window. She tries to focus on the road ahead as Winston drives; doesn't want to give up being a second pair of eyes as she sits passenger side. But her fatigue gets the best of her. Although it’s difficult to separate her overtired brain from certainty, she doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

She hears it first. Link’s chuckle.

It’s enough to shake her from her reverie. She lifts her head and tries to be conspicuous as she turns, glancing into the backseat.

Amelia’s sat in the middle seat again, squeezed tightly between the camping supplies and then Link on the other side of her. Her eyes are fighting to stay open, and she's doing that weird head bobbing thing. That subconscious move that happens quite literally before falling asleep.

“Hey. Here.”

The sound of Link’s voice causes Amelia’s eyes to widen, quickly becoming aware of herself. She continues to blink, fighting off a bout of exhaustion that Maggie completely sympathizes with.

When Amelia locks eyes with him, Link simply pats his shoulder, indicating a potential landing spot for her head.

She frowns tiredly at him.

“Just do it,” he shrugs, patting his shoulder again. “I’m a better option than that boxed tent.” He nods past her. “As far as pillows go, at least.”

Amelia seems to fight it for a second. She really does. Her eyebrows pull together as she continues to stare blankly at Link.

Maggie diverts her attention because once again, she feels like she’s intruding on some private moment. But she remains listening. She can’t help it. There’s some shuffling around and then-

“Hm.” She hears Amelia hum. “You do make a decent pillow.” It’s followed by a murmured “Thank you.”

“Sure. What are friends for?”

Link’s response is barely a whisper, but Maggie can hear it still, even over the general hum of the highway below. She doesn’t think she’s imagining this part.

What are friends for?

It’s enough to make her turn in her seat again, an incredulous stare plastered on her face as she raises her eyebrows in Link’s direction.

He seems not to notice her interest, or rather her disbelief. Because his focus is consumed by the dark head of hair resting against his shoulder.

Amelia’s eyes are shut tight, her expression revealed when she adjusts herself slightly against him. And then Link smiles to himself, still unaware of the scrutiny descending from the front seat.

Maggie allows the doubt to flood her mind as she turns to rest against her own window again, and she fights off a smile as she lets her eyes finally close.

Friends. Right.

#amelink #amelink fanfic #amelinkfic #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #everyone look away bc this one is way too self-indulgent #im sorry it took me so long to post this ive been. hm whats the best way to put this #freaking out all the time all day every day #but i love writing this story so #also this is the second time i’ve ever written a game of never have i ever in a fic lmaooo #idk what THATS ABOUT but apparently i love to recycle that idea #don't let me take a long time to update ok harass me if u want this story to continue bc i need the harassment #also im Maggie in this fic just relentlessly shipping amelia and link she’s my outlet although she was very hard to write pov wise #amelia x link #amelinkfanfiction #my writing #if the sun comes up #grey's anatomy fanfic #grey's anatomy fic #grey's anatomy #maggie pierce #maggie x amelia #winston ndugu #magston #jo wilson #lexie grey #sorry for the excessive tags i just haven’t posted in so long and this felt like a better scenario than a long ass a/n

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porschekittisawasds · 3 years

Note

i know this is kind of an unpopular opinion but as we get deeper into the season my hope for canon buddie is getting less and less :/ i feel like eddie and buck aren't getting nearly as much screen time together and it makes me wonder if that's because of the ryan and oliver drama. im just worried that because of their issues buck and eddie aren't going to have the same dynamic ):

under the cut because this got very long lmao

to begin with, let's talk about buck and eddie's screen time this season.

1 and 2: these episodes focus on the dam breaking and the landslide, so they're on calls almost the entire time. buck is paired with chimney for a good amount of time which is a change of pace considering he's usually paired with eddie. however, you have to keep in mind that this is the first episode we've seen since maddie and chimney found out they're having a baby. buck and chimney are now family outside of the 118, so it makes to pair them up especially when you consider chimney is experiencing a lot of anxiety about becoming a father.

3: lots of eddie/buck content this episode. buck teasing eddie about hilda. eddie knowing random facts just like buck. buck and eddie and chris hang out featuring chris asking buck if they can go play video games at his place and eddie giving buck a "we have to be a united front" look. chris and buck teaming up to prank eddie with what is presumably a pretty expensive coffee maker. literally Peak Buddie Content™.

lone star ep: buck, eddie and hen got split up this ep so we could have one 911 character with the 3 different lone star groups. buck is less than pleased when he finds out eddie is going off with marjan and it isn't going to be just the two of them. eddie defends buck to marjan when she calls him creepy and later asks her to follow buck back on instagram. tk assumes buck is asking him out and less than a second later eddie shows up (maybe that means something maybe it doesn’t). they were together for like 5 minutes of the total episode (and they really managed to cram in so much casual touching in that short amount of time) but we still got good buddie content.

4. not a ton of buddie scenes considering this ep was heavily focused on buck, maddie and their parents but the scene we did get was GOLD. when buck was venting about his family, eddie listened and validated his feelings at every turn, which is a change of pace from early season 3 eddie who was all about sucking up your problems and moving on. buck could have just as easily gone to bobby (you know, his father figure) but he was pissed off and hurt and he chose to talk to eddie over anyone else.

5. again, not a ton of buddie scenes but the ones we got were A+. buck being all self-deprecating and talking about how he's defective parts and eddie pushing back and telling buck that's not on him. eddie being the first person to show up in that warehouse fire and grab onto the rope ("people who love each other are always connected by an invisible string made of love"), setting him apart from the rest of the team. which imo is because buck has a very different relationship with eddie than he does the rest of the team. they do this again when eddie is the only member of the team there when buck and bobby arrive back to the station. that fond little “i know you did.”

6. straight up FLIRTING during the truck restock scene. buck was the first person eddie told about ana. he only talked to bobby about it AFTER buck told the team about her (in response to eddie teasing him about reading a book). if buck hadn't said anything who knows if/when eddie would have talked to them about it. the whole "i lost my partner" comment which was an interesting choice of words considering eddie's main struggle this episode was moving on from losing shannon. you know, his partner.

7. there wasn't a ton of eddie or buck in this ep considering it was a very hen and michael centric episode (nice), but we got to see buck talk about his date with eddie and them be dumb ass turkey hunters together. also v interesting that buck starts dating the episode after eddie goes out with ana. does it mean something? maybe. maybe not.

anyway my point is that even if they have had less screen time this season than they usually do (which im not sure is actually even true), there has still been a lot of good, meaningful buddie content.

as for potential ryan and oliver drama, i don't keep up with them so i have no clue, but listen. 911 does an exceptionally good job with storytelling. buck and eddie play a hugely important role in each others lives. outside of maddie and chris, their next closest relationship is arguably with each other. i don't care how much of an issue ryan and oliver have with each other, i don't see that influencing the writers' decision in terms of eddie and buck. it would make no sense for those characters to suddenly start pulling back from each other.

as for buddie, i think there's a good chance at this point in the show that the showrunners/writers have made a decision (or at the very least are leaning one way or another) in terms of whether to make them canon. if they've decided not to, then this is completely irrelevant. if they have, that takes some planning. if all the shit we've been analyzing this season was intentional and they do plan on making buddie canon, do you really think they're gonna be like “oh you guys don’t like each other anymore? no problem we’ll just scrap months of planning and go in a different direction.” more than likely they’re gonna be told to suck it up and do their jobs considering they’re, you know. ACTORS.

also as a side note, i've noticed some people say that they feel like the buck/eddie scenes this season have felt off but i genuinely think that's because people know there's a potential problem between the actors. imo buck and eddie have been soft as hell with each other this season and seem closer than ever.

in conclusion: don’t stress out too much about it. it’s completely out of our control. personally as long as neither of them die and they’re both happy and their friendship stays intact ill be okay with whatever direction the show goes.

#ask #anonymous #911 fox #911 spoilers #buddie

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goldenraeofsun · 3 years

Text

life is just a classroom

A 6k addition to this verse with Teacher!Cas and Teacher!Dean

Jody has never seen her staff with their heads so far up their own asses. They get one reasonably attractive new hire, and everyone is acting more like gossiping, horny teenagers than sane, I-am-responsible-for-multiple-children, teachers. Luckily, Jody’s the principal and expert in wrangling children and adults of all maturity levels.

But this, as Bobby used to say, is too early for this shit.

It’s 7:00 am, and if Jody has to hear one more word about Castiel Novak and his brooding stare and baby blue eyes, she’s going to dump her coffee all over Daphne Allen’s head. It’s not like the Teachers Lounge hasn’t seen more than its fair share of spilled coffee. The brown-ish grey-ish carpet is more for utility than aesthetics, and is probably older than Jody herself.

“I’ve been trying to find out more about him, but he’s so reserved,” Daphne is saying. She sighs. “I’ve always been a sucker for the strong, silent types.”

Jody rolls her eyes and adds more sugar to her coffee.

“I think he mentioned he was actually a student here,” Kelly says, leaning in conspiratorially, “the same year as Dean.”

“No way,” Daphne breathes.

Jody dumps in more sugar.

“Has Dean mentioned anything about him? Is he single?”

For Christ’s sake. It’s the second day of school - Jody is very confident her teachers have better things to do than cross boundaries with new colleagues.

Daphne frowns. “No, he hasn’t. But Castiel definitely doesn’t wear a ring.”

Kelly rolls her eyes. “Would I even be talking about him if I thought he was married?”

Jody clears her throat, saying loudly, “Well, I’d better get back to work. Morning announcements will start soon.”

Both Kelly and Daphne jump guiltily.

Pleased, Jody strides out of the Teachers Lounge, nearly running into Donna. “Here,” she says, pressing the coffee into her hands. “I put too much sugar in it anyway.”

“Oh, hey, thanks Jody-o!” Donna beams.

Jody jerks her head towards Daphne and Kelly, heads ducked together and clearly already back to it. “Watch out for ‘em. They’ll get you sucked in gossiping about the new hire.”

“That Castiel?” Donna asks, her eyes lighting up. “He’s such an angel.”

“Not you too,” Jody grumbles as she stalks out. She has a school to run.

* * *

“Bonne journée, tout le monde.” Castiel waves his students out. “Etudiez bien pour le quiz la semaine prochaine! Si vous avez besoin d’aide, n'hésitez pas à venir me voir.”

Daphne lets the juniors stream past her, steels herself, and knocks on the door.

“Oui?” he asks without looking up.

Daphne swallows nervously. “Castiel?”

Castiel straightens, and holy hell, those eyes are so blue. “Hello,” he says, “I’m sorry, I thought you were a student.”

“No worries at all,” Daphne says with tittering laugh. “I was just wondering if you wanted to get a drink?”

“A drink?” Castiel echoes.

“To celebrate the end of the first week?” Daphne adds. “Kelly, Aaron, and I have a little tradition.”

“I see,” Castiel says, sounding taken aback. He fiddles with the strap of his bag before slinging it over his shoulder.

As the seconds drag on without a response, Daphne frowns. Is he going to refuse? Daphne had told Kelly this was a stupid plan -

“Can I bring Dean?” he asks.

Daphne blinks. “Dean? Yes, of course,” she says, mentally recalibrating her assessment of Edlund High's newest Latin/French teacher. He and Dean must be closer than she had assumed from their interactions in the Language Office. Maybe Castiel is less the stoically reserved type and more the shy, socially awkward wallflower. Her heart melts, so she adds, “the more the merrier.”

“Wonderful,” Castiel says, smiling. “What time?”

“We were thinking of leaving in like an hour,” Daphne says, “but you can also meet us there - Fizzle’s Folly? It’s on Water Street.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows at the name.

Daphne giggles. “Garth’s wife - have you met Garth? He teaches Chem - owns it. There’s a whole story there, but I can tell you later, if you like.”

Castiel smiles. “I’d like that, thank you.” He hefts his shoulder bag higher. “I grew up here, but it’s been a number of years since I spent a long time in this school district. I don’t remember a Fizzle’s Folly.”

“It used to be called Fenris,” Daphne says as they walk out.

Castiel’s brow furrows. “Wasn’t that a biker bar?”

“Yup, that’s the one,” Daphne says, nodding to Krissy Chambers and her friend Josephine as they pass by. “It underwent a little bit of a makeover when Garth and Bess took over.”

“So no bikers?”

“Not unless you count Garth,” Daphne says, grinning, as she pushes open the door to the Language Office. “He owns a motorcycle, if you can believe - oh, hey, Dean.”

Dean glances up from his desk at Daphne’s acknowledgement. “Hey,” he says slowly, his eyes flicking from Castiel to Daphne and back again. “What’s up?”

“Daphne invited me out for drinks,” Castiel says as Dean’s eyebrows rise, “Would you like to come?”

Dean’s mouth purses. “Wouldn’t want to be an imposition.”

“I already asked,” Castiel says as Daphne nods once.

And maybe in a week, once Daphne and Castiel know each other better, they can get drinks alone together. Or Kelly can get drinks alone with him. Daphne won’t fight Kelly for him, and Kelly won’t fight her. He’s not a piece of meat, as Kelly is all too fond of reminding if they go too far after too many margaritas.

After a beat, Dean says in a funny voice, “Okay then.”

Daphne walks around the both of them to get to her desk. “Aaron’s going to be there, if that matters,” she says without looking up.

“Aaron?” Castiel asks curiously.

“History teacher,” Dean says at the same time that Daphne provides, “Dean’s ex.”

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose as Castiel turns to him.

“Not an ex,” Dean grumbles. “We had a thing. Briefly. Years ago. It was before-” he coughs, “anyway.”

“I see,” Castiel deadpans.

Daphne frowns, meeting Castiel’s gaze over Dean’s head. “We are a LGBTQ friendly school,” she says sharply. “Dean runs the Gay-Straight-Alliance. If you have any… issues with that, I’d recommend talking to Jody before we leave.”

Dean looks oddly touched. “Thanks, Daph.”

Castiel just shakes his head. “I’m not homophobic. Dean can attest to that.”

“He had a boyfriend in high school,” Dean says with a grin.

Daphne’s face heats up embarrassingly quickly. “Ah - good for you.”

It’s not the end of the world. He could be bi, like Dean.

* * *

Aaron’s glad Dean and Castiel are here, if just to steer the conversation away from all the boy talk. He always has a good time with Kelly and Daphne, but, damn, they can really fixate. Lately, all they’ve been focusing on is Castiel, which, Aaron can kind of get behind - even though, obviously, Dean is more his type.

Thankfully they’ve cooled it with Castiel actually in the room with them.

Poor dude looks in over his head by the time they’re all sipping their second round of drinks. That’s probably why, when Aaron offers to get refills and snacks, Castiel jumps up to assist, quick on his heels.

Daphne and Kelly’s eyes follow Castiel’s ass to the bar. Sometimes they really are shameless.

“You doing okay?” Aaron asks after he’s flagged down the bartender.

“Oh yes,” Castiel says, bobbing his head in a nod. “It’s just… I don’t get out often.”

“I know they can be a bit much,” Aaron says, jerking his head back at their table. “If you want them to cool it with the questions, just say so.”

“I don’t mind.”

Aaron makes a face but doesn’t comment further. It’s Castiel’s funeral if he wants to keep playing into Kelly and Daphne’s hands like silly putty. Aaron warned the guy. He did his job to uphold bros before hos - even if Castiel is barely a bro and Aaron co-ran Kelly's campaign for City Council and let her cry into his shoulder when she lost, and he went to church with Daphne for a couple weeks because she knew her abusive ex-boyfriend was going to be there.

Mom practically had a heart attack when she heard about the Church thing through the grapevine, which stunned Aaron to no end because, of all his siblings, he was the only one who actually followed up on his threat to get kicked out of Hebrew school. Organized religion has never been his thing, anyway. Two Sundays with Kelly sandwiching Daphne in the pews wasn’t going to change that.

Moreover, it’s not like Aaron's never leaned on the girls for help. Daphne called her second-cousin, the cardiologist, to give a third-opinion on Dad's diagnosis. Kelly let Aaron sleep on her couch for a month because she lived across the street from the hospital. They listened to him whine about his unrequited thing for Dean Winchester when everything else in his life was going to hell. Speaking of-

“So you know Dean pretty well?” Aaron asks casually.

Castiel freezes.

“You keep staring at him,” Aaron says.

“I -”

“Relax,” Aaron says as he leans back against the bar. “Been there.”

Castiel purses his lips. “Daphne did mention you were… involved.”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” Aaron says, since Daphne could’ve been a lot more damning in her assessment. “We slept together a couple of times. I was feeling it - he wasn’t - and that was the end of that.”

“Oh,” Castiel says, looking relieved. He glances at Aaron out of the corner of his eye. “And do you still… like him?”

Aaron snorts. “I mean, we’re not in middle school. It’s a little more complicated.”

Castiel’s brows draw together in a forbidding frown.

“I was just gonna say,” Aaron supplies quickly, “do I still think he’s hot? Yes, I have eyes. Do I want to marry him and push my mother over the edge by marrying a guy and a goy? Not anymore.”

Castiel settles back down, and Aaron makes a mental note not to piss him off anytime soon. “A word of advice?” he says as he turns back around to grab their drinks, “Don’t insult his car - or Led Zeppelin - or his brother.”

Surprised, Castiel takes a moment before laughing. “Or pie.”

“No quicker way to get your name on Dean Winchester’s shit list,” Aaron agrees. He surveys Castiel again. “So you know him pretty well already?”

Castiel shrugs. “We went to high school together.”

“Kelly mentioned,” Aaron says. “What was he like?”

“Dean?”

“No, Gary Busey,” Aaron says, rolling his eyes, “of course Dean.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “Very similar to how he is now,” he says, which doesn’t tell Aaron much. “Charming. Caring. Intelligent in the strangest of ways.” Castiel pauses. “Handsome.”

“Yeah, that does sound like him,” Aaron agrees. He’s been on the receiving end of Dean’s charm offensive once or twice. It’s always left his head spinning.

Interrupting his train of thought, “Hey!” Dean calls shamelessly across the bar. “What are you two alte kakers up to?”

Aaron waves him off, unable to hide his smile at Dean’s casual Yiddish. He only picked up two or three words from Aaron, back when Aaron dove head-first into his ill-advised thing with Dean so he didn’t have to think about all the other shit going on in his life. “Here, grab the sides will you?” Aaron asks Castiel. “I think we’ve left Dean alone with them for long enough.”

Castiel dutifully picks up the mozzarella sticks and fries as Aaron double-checks his tray of glasses won’t topple over.

“Watch who you’re calling old men,” Aaron tells Dean as he sets the drinks down at their table.

“You were just gabbing up there,” Dean protests, reaching for his beer, “leaving these two lovely ladies with only little old me for company.”

Castiel snorts as Daphne rolls her eyes above the rim of her drink.

“Then you should’ve gone with yentas ,” Aaron says as he sits down.

“Like Barbra Streisand?” Dean eyes them both up and down. “Can’t say I see the resemblance.”

Aaron runs a hand down his face. “How do you know Barbra Streisand and not what yenta means?”

“Sammy made me watch it,” Dean says into his beer.

Aaron laughs. “Sure.”

“Hey, Castiel,” Daphne interrupts, “Dean was telling us the funniest story about you from way back-”

Castiel shoots Aaron a desperate look, but Aaron just grabs a mozzarella stick and settles in. Let the girls have their fun.

* * *

“So, Castiel, are you seeing anyone?” Kelly asks after finishing her third whiskey sour. Nine months of sobriety/pregnancy had shot her tolerance to nothing. And, sure, Jack is almost four now, but Kelly still has a hard time knowing when to call it quits.

Whatever. She doesn’t regret the question. It’s been plaguing her and Daphne - and by extension Aaron because he had to listen to them - for a whole goddamn week.

Daphne’s eyes go wide.

Off to the side, Aaron slaps his hand to his forehead.

Dean turns to Castiel, his gaze piercing.

Castiel goes bright red. It’s a good color on him. Brings out the blue in his eyes. “I - well, that is to say - I am not - it’s complicated?” he fumbles.

Dean snorts as he picks up his beer to take a long pull.

Kelly frowns. “It’s complicated?” she repeats, disappointed. “How?”

“I am not comfortable discussing my personal life with colleagues,” Castiel says stiltedly.

Dean thumps him on the back. “Good move,” he says, “these three are the worst gossips in the school.”

“Hey!” Kelly protests automatically although Dean is, unfortunately, right. But it’s not her fault everyone else on staff at Edlund High doesn’t know how to have a good time.

Daphne knocks back her cosmo murderously.

Aaron shrugs.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Dean adds, “definitely has its uses. Just something for the newbie to know, right, Cas?”

“Of course,” Castiel says, sounding like he doesn’t know what exactly he’s agreeing to.

What a cutie. Kelly grins as she leans in over the table. “You want to know which students are the worst?”

Dean frowns. “Come on, there’s no need to dunk on minors.”

“Who’s dunking?” Kelly asks innocently. “I was going to warn him about Max Banes.”

“Oh, yeah, you should know about him, Cas,” Dean says with a laugh. “Kid’s a horndog. Gives my libido a run for my money.”

Castiel blinks. “Does he… pursue teachers?”

Daphne pats his hand. “Not yet. These three think it’s only a matter of time.”

“Oh,” Cas says, “That was very frowned upon at Carver Preparatory.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s frowned on here too, asshole. If he makes any… advances, just let Jody know. She and Donna - the guidance counselor - can handle it.”

“If I was going to put my psych degree to good use,” Daphne adds, “I would read into his lack of father figure. Their mom’s great, but Max doesn’t have a lot of male role models in his life.”

Kelly scowls.

Dean huffs into his beer. “Single parents have it rough, though.”

“Of course they do,” Daphne says with a significant look at Kelly. “Nobody’s saying they don’t.”

“I was raised by a single dad,” Dean protests, “and he raised me and my brother right.” He holds up a hand, and Castiel snaps his mouth shut before Kelly had even noticed it opening in the first place. “Don’t you start. I know you have thoughts about Dad, but that’s a conversation for another day.”

Kelly eyes them both curiously, but before she can ask, Aaron interrupts, “Did you guys hear about Krissy and Aidan? I think they are finally going to-”

“No way!” Daphne says, shaking her head. “She’s clueless. And he’s inept. The worst combination.”

“I believe in them,” Kelly announces. “What’d you hear, Aaron?”

As Aaron launches into the latest installment of their favorite will-they won’t-they senior couple, Kelly can finally appreciate the lazy smile Castiel wears as he settles in to listen. Maybe Aaron was right, and she and Daphne came on a little strong.

Whatever. No regrets. She wouldn’t trade that valuable intel from Castiel for anything.

* * *

That was Kelly’s last night out for a solid month. Every other weekend, her usual babysitter called in sick or said she was busy. And usually Kelly would be happy to spend more time with her son, but come on. A month with no breaks?

Christ, she’s such a bad mom.

Times like this don’t help.

“Jack?” Kelly calls, spinning around in the department store. Panic races through her veins. “Jack!”

She had turned her back for one minute to grab a set of towels from the highest shelf, and by the time she turned around, Jack was gone. She scans the surrounding racks of linens, her eyes peeled for any sign of Jack’s Spider-Man shirt. Heart beating erratically, she pushes her shopping cart back towards the bedding aisle - Jack had been enamored with a set of hideous, bright orange sheets, and Kelly had only gotten him away by bribing him with a piece of nougat.

“Jack!” she shouts again, going a bit red in the face as people turn to stare.

“Kelly?”

Shit. How could she miss Dean Winchester standing right in front of her?

“Dean!” Kelly greets, pasting on a fake smile as she cranes her neck around to scan the aisles behind him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“It was recently brought to my attention I needed a bathmat,” Dean grumbles, “and a shower curtain that doesn’t have the Scooby Gang on it.”

Kelly laughs, a tad hysterically. “Probably. I - well, nice running into you. I need to go - my son’s wandered off, and I need to find him because I am not a terrible mother.”

But instead of standing to the side, Dean adopts a pained expression. “He’s four, right?”

Kelly blinks. “Yes.”

Dean jerks his head for Kelly to follow. “I think I know where he is,” Dean says griml

Bemused, Kelly pushes her cart after Dean, back to the display beds. Her eyes zero in on the orange eye-sore, currently occupied by a jumping toddler. A dark-haired man perches on one edge with his back to them, apparently trying to communicate with Kelly’s wayward son.

She all but sprints forward, nearly bumping her shopping cart into several bed frames. “Jack!” she says loudly, and Jack stops at once.

“Mama!” he calls back delightedly.

“What are you doing?”

“Jumping.”

Kelly resists the urge to facepalm. “What did I tell you about wandering off? Or talking to stran-” She backtracks, finally focusing on the man. “Oh, hi, Castiel.”

“Hello, Kelly,” Castiel says, his deep voice sending a frisson down her spine like it always does.

“You know Mama?” Jack asks, looking from Kelly to Castiel and back again.

“We work together,” Castiel explains.

“This is Castiel,” Kelly introduces, and Jack wastes no time in chirping out, “Nice to meet you Castiel!’

Castiel sticks out his hand like he’s greeting the President instead of Kelly’s four-year-old son. “You as well, Jack.”

“What’re you doing here?” Kelly asks as Jack gives Castiel’s hand a theatrical shake.

Castiel’s brow furrows. “Purchasing home goods?” He gets to his feet. “I was searching for a suitable bathmat when I found Jack.”

“A bathmat,” Kelly echoes, whirling in place to see a red-faced Dean a few paces away, apparently enthralled by a set of outrageously mundane pillows.

“Yes?” Castiel confirms, following her gaze and blushing furiously. “Ah, hello, Dean. I - I didn’t see you there?”

Dean throws his hands in the air, giving up on all pretenses. “You’re impossible,” he says to Castiel.

“You’re buying a bathmat together?” Kelly asks, confused.

“Dean doesn’t have one,” Castiel says promptly.

“I didn’t need one until-” Dean closes his mouth with a snap.

Kelly stares at the pair of them. “Do you two live together?” she demands.

Castiel opens his mouth, but no words come out.

Kelly turns to Dean, who is rapidly scanning for the exits.

“Are you the ‘it’s complicated’?” she asks curiously, only looking away as Jack pats her knee determinedly, his face hopeful.

“Up?” he asks.

Kelly sighs and hefts him into her arms. “You’re getting too big for this.”

“Am not,” Jack mumbles into her shoulder.

Kelly presses a kiss to his forehead and turns back to Castiel and Dean, who look more like two students caught passing notes than fully grown men. “Well?”

Dean shares a loaded glance with Castiel, and Kelly has no idea how she missed the whole couple thing. Eventually, he says, “After two f-” he glances at Jack, “-friggin’ years, he finally got sick of cold feet in my bathroom.”

“Two years,” Kelly gapes.

Castiel sighs. “Three.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t start sleeping over at-”

“Dean,” Castiel interrupts in a growl.

Dean rubs the back of his neck. He coughs. “Anyway,” he says, “Yes, we’re dating. No, it’s not really that complicated. Cas just doesn’t like to talk about it at work.”

“Hm,” Kelly says neutrally.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t spread it around,” Castiel says as Dean snorts derisively.

“Hey,” Kelly says, defensive, “I can do that.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “You can?”

“Sure, if you ask, Jesus,” Kelly says, rolling her eyes. “I’m not a monster.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says gratefully.

Kelly grins. “But if I can’t spread it around, Daphne’s still going to go after him like he’s a prize heifer at a state fair.”

Castiel squints at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “She was pursuing me?”

Dean guffaws. “Don’t ever change, man.” He claps him on the back while turning back to Kelly. “We can handle Daphne. Don’t worry.”

“Whatever, boys,” Kelly says as she pushes her cart back towards the linens, “it’s your funeral.” She hefts Jack higher in her arms. “Say goodbye to Dean and Castiel, Jack.” As Jack waves goodbye, she calls, “See you Monday!”

Sure, she’s a little disappointed Castiel is clearly off the dating market. But, bonus, she has blackmail material on not one, but two Edlund faculty members, and possibly a pinch-hitter babysitter waiting to happen. Not bad for a shopping trip with a four-year-old in tow.

* * *

Donna’s surprise party at Fizzle’s Folly is well underway by the time Aaron extricates himself from a lively discussion with his Head of Department and Rowena MacLeod, Edlund's chemistry teacher. Aaron will never, ever miss an opportunity to talk to a drunk Eleanor Visyak, and Rowena turned out to be surprisingly knowledgeable about 17th century English politics.

Still, he’s taken all the history talk he can stand, especially after teaching it for four hours to a bunch of high schoolers with varying degrees of interest.

He finds Daphne in one of the far booths, tucked away with Castiel and Dean, surprise, surprise. After snagging another beer at the bar, he slides in next to Daphne. “What’s up?” he asks the three of them.

“Hey,” Dean greets with a toast of his glass.

“Hello, Aaron.”

“Budge up, you’re taking like three quarters of the seat,” Daphne complains.

“Daph was just telling us about her plans to do a joint project between GSA and the Amnesty International club,” Dean says. “Cas says he’ll come to GSA next week.”

“Yeah?” Aaron asks as Castiel nods in confirmation. “That’s great! I’d go check it out, but the Debate club meets at the same time.”

Castiel frowns. “Maybe I should run a club? Daphne has Amnesty International, Dean runs GSA, and you have Debate.”

“You can always ask Jody about forming a new one in January,” Aaron says. “Honestly, the hardest part’ll be finding a time to meet. Don’t go for afterschool Thursdays, or Benny will kick your ass.”

“Why?”

“He has his cooking club,” Dean says with a grin. “And, like, half the student body goes. I sometimes go and help out too, if he needs extra hands.”

“You’ll go if he’s making pie,” Aaron corrects.

“It’s for the kids!” Dean protests over Castiel’s chuckles. “Benny’s got a lot of skills, but he has a lot to learn when it comes to pie. The kids need to know how to make a good pie.”

“If only to feed you later,” Aaron mutters.

“You’ll also want to avoid Tuesdays afterschool,” Daphne tells Castiel. “Jo’s self-defense club meets then, and it’s also got a large following.”

“Yeah, all the girls who wanna be like Jo sign up, and all the boys who want to see Jo all sweaty show up with semis,” Dean says with a shudder of revulsion.

Aaron kicks him under the table. “That’s sexist. How are you forgetting all the lesbians?”

“Ah, yes, can’t forget the lesbians,” Dean agrees sagely.

“Does this school have Model UN?” Castiel asks. “I was looking to set up a chapter at Carver before I switched positions.”

“No, we don’t,” Daphne says eagerly. “That’s an excellent idea.”

Dean drains the dregs of his beer. “I’m gonna get another, Cas? Daph? A-Game?”

Aaron rolls his eyes at the nickname. “I’m good,” he says, holding up his three-quarters full glass.

“Another cosmo, please?” Daphne asks.

“Sure.” Dean salutes.

“I’ll go with you,” Castiel says as Daphne’s face falls. “I need to stretch my legs.”

They leave, heads already bent together to hear each other over the dull roar of the party. “They seem close,” Aaron says, jerking his head.

Daphne sighs. “Yeah, they do,” she says morosely. She twirls her empty glass between her fingers. “Kelly’s given up on him. I think you might be right - he definitely has a thing for Dean.”

Aaron sips his beer. “I don’t blame him.”

“Of course you don’t,” Daphne says with a small grin, lightly kicking him under the table.

Before Aaron can think of anything else to say, Kelly appears over Daphne’s shoulder, her face flushed as it always gets when she drinks too much red wine. She slides into the side of the booth vacated by Dean and Castiel. “Some party, right? Did you see Garth doing shots?”

“No,” Daphne says, nose wrinkling. “And I don’t want to. I’ll stay here, out of the splash zone, thanks.”

Kelly giggles. “Why d’you think I’m over here instead of egging him on like Jo and Charlie.”

By the time Aaron finishes off the rest of his beer, Daphne’s still one cosmo short, and it’s been at least twenty minutes since he saw Dean and Castiel.

“Hey, I’ll go check up on that drink you’re waiting for,” Aaron says, getting to his feet.

“You sure?” Daphne asks, blinking hazily up at him. And okay, it’s probably good she had a breather between rounds.

“Yeah,” Aaron says, jerking his head towards the bar. “I need to piss anyway.”

“Gross,” Daphne says, nose wrinkling.

Kelly giggles, “If you think a little pee is gross, you don’t want to hear what Jack got up to with-”

Daphne actually places both hands over her ears and goes, “Na, na, na.”

Aaron leaves the pair of them laughing, with Kelly trying to pry Daphne’s hands away and Daphne getting louder with each tug.

He makes his way through the thinning crowd, waving to Eleanor when he spots her getting ready to leave and nodding to Charlie as she adjusts the empty shot glasses in front of her, Jo, and an impossibly red-faced Garth.

Aaron slides between the thinning crowd to duck out into the hallway leading to the bathrooms. As he gets closer to the men’s room, he slows. There are sounds coming from behind the door. Not like the pained bathroom sounds like Great Aunt Rachel gets after too much dairy. Porn sounds.

Aaron, torn between finding out who’s getting down and dirty at Donna’s surprise party, and getting Kelly and Daphne so they can witness the big reveal with him, is still rooted to the spot as the door bursts open and Castiel and Dean stumble out.

Cas’s hair is a bird’s nest of bedhead that would probably drop Daphne’s panties in a heartbeat. Dean’s cheeks are flushed, and Aaron definitely recognizes his immediate post-orgasm face.

“Fuck,” Dean swears as he finds his footing. He stares at Aaron, and Aaron stares right back.

“Aaron,” Castiel says breathlessly, temporarily drawing his attention. “You’re… here.”

“I had to pee,” Aaron says lamely.

“Oh, well, it’s all yours then,” Dean says, blushing to the roots of his hair as he gestures to the now available men’s room.

“Fuck no.” Aaron automatically recoils. There’s no way he’s touching any surface in that bathroom until it’s been scrubbed and bleached. He has some goddamn standards. He’d rather pee in the alley out back.

They linger awkwardly until Aaron speaks. He eyes the pair of them, his gaze ping-ponging back and forth. “So… you two are finally together?”

“Finally?” Dean echoes.

“Uh yeah,” Aaron says, confused. “Castiel clearly has a huge thing for you. Not to spill the beans or anything.”

A beat.

Dean cracks up.

Aaron, almost offended on Castiel’s behalf, opens his mouth as he catches sight of Castiel’s face, lips pressed tight together like he’s trying not to laugh. “You knew?”

Castiel slowly shakes his head as Dean leans on him for support, gasping for air. “Oh my god, Cas, that’s fucking embarrassing. D’you have a crush on me?”

“Shut up, Dean,” Castiel grumbles, shoving him off. To Aaron he says, “We’ve been dating for three years. He’s known about my feelings for a while now.”

“Oh,” Aaron says, drawing the syllable out as Dean composes himself.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, wiping at his eyes, “I thought I was going to give it all away, but turns out you’re just as obvious as you were in high school.”

Castiel sighs. “We were trying to not spread our relationship around.”

“Cas wanted to get settled in before people started saying he was my trophy husband,” Dean says with a wink.

Horror seizes Aaron. “You’re not married, are you?” he blurts. He glances down at their hands - no rings - and he would never forgive himself for missing something that obvious.

“No,” Castiel shakes his head, “we are only dating for now.”

“Not yet.”

Castiel turns to Dean in surprise, and Aaron really doesn’t need to be here for that conversation. “Oh-kay,” he says, sidling around them, “I still gotta,” he jerks his head towards the men’s room.

“Right!” Dean says, grinning. “We should get back to the party. Say hi to Donna.”

Aaron makes his exit, sighing in relief as the door closes behind him. He should be fine if he doesn’t touch anything. Or look at any shiny surfaces too closely. Once upon a time, he lived with a dozen Alpha Epsilon Pi brothers. He can do this.

* * *

Daphne has had it up to here with her juniors. Yes, Homecoming is this weekend. No, their essays aren’t due until next week, but that doesn’t excuse their behavior this Friday afternoon. Nobody wants to be in class at a quarter to three. High school juniors don’t. Daphne sure as hell doesn’t. They can’t cut her a little slack?

When the bell finally rings, Daphne sighs in relief. She dismisses her class with a terse, “Aufiderzein.”

She gathers her files together, grumbling to herself about stupid staff meetings on Friday. It’s like Jody wants them to surreptitiously play games on their phones and text each other when she’s looking the other way or yelling at Rowena for blowing up the Chemistry Lab again.

At least Benny always brings snacks from Thursday’s Cooking Club.

Daphne glances at her watch. Jody gives them a half-hour to get their affairs in order, but Daphne doesn’t mind staking out her seat in the Teachers Lounge early. She can save spots for Kelly and Aaron and stake out the precious few non-wobbly chairs.

She stops by the Language Office, pleasantly surprised to find it empty. No Dean, Kelly, or Castiel in sight. Daphne quickly gathers her freshmen pop quizzes to grade this weekend and her copy of Die Verwandlung.

She rounds the final corner before the Teachers Lounge and stops dead. Because Aaron and Kelly are hovering outside the door and spying through the slim glass pane. Without her.

“What’s going on?” Daphne asks curiously.

“Ah!” Kelly whirls around, clutching her heart.

“Daphne!” Aaron says loudly. “What’re you doing here?”

“Saving us a seat for the meeting?” Daphne says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Like I do every month?”

Aaron and Kelly share a loaded look. Aaron is the first one to speak, “I think we’re good this time.”

“Why?” Daphne asks, stepping closer. She frowns as Kelly and Aaron automatically stand shoulder-to-shoulder, blocking her view of the narrow window.

“Students are in there,” Aaron blurts.

“Puking,” Kelly adds.

Daphne doesn’t believe them for a second. “And you’re just standing there watching it happen?”

“Schadenfreude?” Aaron tries. “It’s the mean ones. You know. The kids we don't like.”

Daphne rolls her eyes, pushing them aside and standing on her tiptoes to see.

“We tried,” Aaron grumbles to her right.

“They can’t fault us for that,” Kelly says to her left.

At first, it looks like the Teachers Lounge is empty. Most seats are unoccupied, and nobody’s loitering by the coffee machine. One of the tables is strewn with three mostly-empty mini pie tins. Cherry, by the color. Movement catches her eye, and, woah how did she miss that?

“No way,” she breathes, glancing at Aaron and Kelly for confirmation.

Aaron scuffing his shoes against the floor, nods sheepishly.

“They made me promise not to tell,” Kelly says ruefully, lips pursing.

“Dean and Castiel?” Daphne gasps, squinting to better see Edlund High’s newest hire and favorite English teacher (no offense, Kelly) getting at it on the lumpy couch in the back that no one sat on because of this very reason.

She rounds on them. “You knew?” she hisses.

Kelly huffs an impatient sigh, blowing a few brown strands of hair out of her face. “I ran into them shopping together a few weeks ago.”

Aaron grimaces. “I nearly walked in on them having sex in the bathroom at Donna’s surprise party last weekend.”

Daphne blinks at the pair of them, hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kelly opens her mouth but no words come out.

“This is the first guy since Mark you showed an interest in,” Aaron rushes to say.

“We didn’t want to ruin it,” Kelly says.

Daphne’s eyes narrow. “And you didn’t think the fact that he’s clearly taken would ruin it?”

“I don’t know,” Kelly says, throwing her hands in the hair. “Sue us, we liked seeing you happy for however long it lasted!”

Daphne softens.

“We thought,” Aaron says, glancing at Kelly for support, “You were getting over Castiel, anyway.”

A small, petty part of Daphne is tempted to deny it as punishment for keeping this from her. But mostly she’s relieved. ��Yeah, mostly,” she mutters.

“So… we good?” Aaron tries.

Kelly loops her arm around her in a one-armed hug. “Of course we are.”

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Of course,” she echoes as Aaron pats her on the back, a wide grin spreading over his face. And, yeah, this is why she has the two best friends on Earth.

“What are you three up to?”

The smile slides off Kelly’s face. “Jody!” she says, spinning around to meet their Principal, holding a paper cup of coffee, and trailed by what looks like half the Edlund High teachers.

Oh shit.

Aaron not-so-accidentally knocks his elbow, loudly, into the door as he turns to face Jody et al. “We didn’t see you there,” he says conversationally.

“Hm,” Jody hums as she reaches past them for the doorknob. “Meeting’s going to start in ten.”

“Can we make it fifteen?” Aaron asks desperately, shuffling to the side so he better blocks the way in.

Jody shakes her head, throwing him a bemused look. “I’m pretty sure everyone wants this started with and over as soon as possible.”

“If you need to urinate, Bass, do it now,” Rowena sniffs.

“I don’t-” Aaron starts, breaking off as Jody finally opens the door.

She stops dead in her tracks.

“Jody!” Dean’s voice carries through the doorway, uncharacteristically high. “’S it time for the meeting already?”

Jo elbows her way to the front. “Goddammit,” she says, sounding completely unsurprised as she stands next to Jody. “Really, guys?”

The rest of the staff curiously filter in.

Behind Daphne, Benny surreptitiously slides Charlie a few bills, muttering, “I told them this was stupid.”

Charlie laughs. “But you still thought they’d last until Homecoming.”

“What can I say,” Benny says, shrugging, “I’m an optimist. And I was so close.”

Daphne meets Charlie’s eyes, asking in a low voice, “Did everyone know?”

Charlie see-saws her hand back and forth as they take their seats. “About half,” she says, glancing behind them to where Dean and Castiel are attempting to make themselves presentable. “Turns out, they’re really bad at keeping the whole ‘Destiel’ thing under wraps. It’s adorable they thought they could try.”

Daphne looks too, and there’s no mistaking what Dean and Castiel were doing. Their lips are swollen from kissing, and, weirdly, Castiel’s tie faces the right way. Daphne snorts. Probably because he didn’t tie it himself, for once.

Jody clears her throat. “Alright, settle down, guys,” she says with a sharp glare in Dean and Castiel’s direction. “As you all know, Homecoming is next weekend-”

* * *

Jody pinches the bridge of her nose. “Okay, that’s all that was on my agenda for today’s meeting-” she waits for the cheers to die down “but, Dean and Castiel, can you stay for a sec?”

Castiel visibly swallows.

Dean scowls.

Jody waits for the rest of the staff to leave.

Nobody moves a muscle.

“Jesus Christ,” Jody swears under her breath. She’s managing children. Horrible, gossipy children. “Okay, I guess everyone could use a refresher.” She clears her throat. “PDA is strictly discouraged among faculty. It’s in the goddamn handbook, people.”

“Really, Jody?” Dean complains.

“I’m not saying you can’t be in a relationship,” Jody says with a sharp look. “Just don’t… advertise it.”

“You got something against two dudes making out?” Dean demands, half-getting up from his seat.

“Of course not, you ass,” Jody says in a long-suffering voice, “I do have something against teenagers making out in every hallway and empty classroom, which they will if they see their two favorite teachers doing it.” She shakes her head. “If you want to hold hands or take an ad out in the school paper, be my guest.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Castiel says hesitantly, wasting no time in reaching for Dean’s hand.

“Plus,” Jody says loftily, “I’ve been dating Donna for six months, and you don’t see me dragging her into supply closets, do you?” And into the stunned silence, Jody stands up to leave.

There are various cries of, “Donna?”

Donna throws her hands in the air as Kelly, Daphne, and Aaron converge on her like piranhas tasting blood in the water. “Jeez Louise,” Donna grumbles, “a little warning wouldn’t kill ya, would it Jody-o?”

“Probaby,” Jody says, giving them all a jaunty salute. “Enjoy your weekends, everyone!”

#destiel fanfic #destiel #fanfic #teacher dean #teacher castiel #human au #teachers au #jody mills #outsider pov #the story of us verse #rae writes fic #profoundnet #secret relationship #but like the worst kept secret #so does it even really count #kelly kline #aaron bass #daphne allen

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connorandersons-blog · 3 years

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Share One with Me

A quick reverse au, Connor has an eating disorder and goes out to smoke, Gavin–an RK400 tasked with working with Connor–follows him.

Rating: M Word Count: 1,988 Ship: Connor/Gaving Warnings: Smoking, appetite suppressants

Hope you enjoy!

_________________________

"If you were an 800, maybe then you'd be as tall as me." Connor snarked, and Gavin couldn't help but roll his eyes. He knew what Connor was doing, Gavin still hadn't fully deviated even after the revolution–he had gone against orders, though. Now? Now he had the urge to punch the human in the face like he often felt.

"My height has nothing to do with my model, ass." He didn't know if it did or didn't, but he was a bit tired of all the short jokes. He wasn't even that much shorter than Connor! "You know as an RK400 I am designed for this kind of work, my height was picked for optimal… whatever." Wasn't like Connor would care about his answer.

Connor smirked at him, leaning back in his chair dangerously. Not that Gavin cared, he just had to work with this stupid human, not befriend him. The sergeant had his odd habits, and no matter what Gavin did, he wouldn't stop. His hair was a mess from Connor running his hands through it (he did his hair every day for some unknown reason considering it always was mused up within the hour), his tie loose and shirt's first few buttons undone and sleeves pushed up his forearms. He had his badge and gun on his belt, black pants clung snuggly to his legs.

"Lunch break is soon, where are you planning to go?" Not that he wanted to come with. He just didn't have anything to do when Connor wasn't around to give him orders.

Connor sat up, glaring at his computer as he pretended to start working. "I was just gonna stay here, not that hungry anyway."

"You did not have breakfast, and you did not have lunch yesterday. You need to eat, Connor." He crossed his own arms, glaring at the man. He couldn't understand why he wouldn't take care of himself–he needed his body at its best to be the most effective.

"Drop it RK," Connor turned his glare on him for a second, and he snapped his mouth shut. Connor probably hadn't meant it as an order, but that's how his programming took it.

That didn't mean he wouldn't glare back, grinding his teeth as he tried to find a way around the order.

"Shit," Connor sighed, rubbing at his jaw before pushing away from his desk. "I'm gonna grab a smoke." Another thing Gavin hated about him. In this day and age, he should know better, there were so many studies down on it and ways to help quit, yet Connor just kept at it.

He had to do something about it, but he stayed seated as he watched Connor walk away. His shirt was casually baggy, but Connor raised his arms above his head to stretch, and Gavin's stomach dropped.

He was so small? He hadn't scanned Connor after that first time, giving him a semblance of privacy, but now he felt like he had to. What he saw broke his heart.

He was underweight, malnourished, sleep-deprived, and Gavin had a feeling he now knew what was happening. The smoking connected with it too, as did the bottles of vitamins he kept in his desk. He bolted to his feet and followed after, catching up easily and smiling slightly when Connor looked his way.

The air was still cold from winter, and he watched as Connor shivered so hard he thought he'd break a bone. He pushed his sleeves down and leaned against the wall, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and pulling one out, holding it between his lips as he lit it up and took a long drag.

"Didn't have to follow me," Connor muttered, eyes slipping closed as he pushed out the smoke.

Cigarettes were known to be appetite suppressants, as were a few of the vitamins Connor took daily. "I wanted to talk to you about something." It was a request, but Connor knew that by now.

He waved him on, taking in another lungful. The smell of the smoke coming out of the cigarette was so bad, it was as if someone had put a piece of coal into his lungs. Looking at the man happily inhaling the smoke, he wondered whether his nose was sensing the wrong smell as the man looked as if he was inhaling flower-scented deodorant or something. "Sure, whatever."

"When was the last time you ate?" Connor's legs looked far too skinny now that he was noticing these things and putting it all together.

He saw Connor tense, pulling in too much smoke that he had to cough it out, bringing the death stick away from his mouth for a few seconds. "What the fuck, Gav?!"

"It's a simple question, I have ways to find out, but I doubt you'd want that." Like sticking his tongue down Connor's mouth to see if there was anything there.

"I, uh, I had dinner last night with Hank." Connor shrugged, putting the cig back into his mouth, not meeting Gavin's eyes. Connor was an amazing liar when working, but he was absolutely shit at it every other time. He didn't even have to scan him to know that was a big fat lie.

"Uh-huh. Wanna tell me the truth, dipshit? I *will* get it out of you." He leaned against the wall too, watching Connor closely.

"Fuck you!" Connor growled out before sighing. "Whatever, I had dinner two nights ago, happy?" Connor glared down at the ground, the tip of the cigarette burning a bright red as he inhaled.

That just wouldn't do. He grabbed the cigarette, going to crush it on the ground before thinking better of it. Connor would be livid if he wasted anything, so he brought it to his own lips and sucked in a breath. He didn't have human lungs, and it wouldn't do anything to or for him, but it still burned. He coughed so hard it felt like his components were going to come up and out of his mouth. "Fuck!" He whined, rubbing at his chest as he wheezed. He'd smoke all of it if it meant Connor would have less.

"Gavin!" Connor scolded but rubbed his back soothingly as he continued to cough until his systems cleared the dirty smoke out. "Why'd you do that?" Was that worry in Connor's voice?

"These are appetite suppressants, figured if you stopped with these and the vitamins you may feel hunger again." He didn't want to think about the alternative, that Connor was doing this purposely.

By the look on Connor's face, he knew this, and it only made Gavin worry more. Ok, so what he worried? Connor was his friend, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself. He cared about the stupid human and his health even if said human was stupid enough to do this to himself. "Gavin, give it back."

Gavin shook his head, pulling in more smoke even as his eyes watered from the burn. "No."

"Gavin."

"No." Another inhale and exhale, staring right at Connor.

"RK."

Gavin simply raised an eyebrow, taking in an extra-long drag.

"RK400, give me that back." Connor still had a few cigarettes left in the pack, but he seemed focused on this one perched on Gavin's lips.

"No." He shrugged, pulling in, but before he could push it back out Connor grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward, crashing their lips together. Gavin let out his breath, and Connor breathed in with a low hum, shivering.

Gavin whimpered, the cigarette falling to the ground as Connor didn't pull away, still pressed against him. He slowly closed his eyes, hand coming up to splay across Connor's chest, not pushing him away even as his brain told him he should. This was far from appropriate, but hadn't he been thinking about this just a few seconds ago?

Connor tilted his head slightly, their lips sliding against each other as they started to truly kiss. Gavin put a hand on the wall behind Connor, needing the extra support as Connor's hand pulled him impossibly closer by the small of his back.

His tongue flicked out to swipe across Connor's bottom lip, and he was quickly allowed access. He could taste the cigarette in his mouth along with those damn vitamins, but underneath it was a slight taste of Connor.

Gavin pressed his leg between Connor's thighs, soaking in the soft moan that came from Connor. He rocked his hips down, grinding against Gavin's leg like a dog in heat, desperately trying to get more friction.

Gavin carded a hand through Connor's soft hair, and now he understood why he did it to himself so much. He tugged on it sharply, and Connor's head fell back giving Gavin full access to his neck. He took the opening, licking and sucking over the soft cold skin. He knew everyone would be able to see them with how Connor wore his damn shirts. Speaking of, he dipped his hand under the fabric, fingers brushing over hard nipples.

Connor trembled from the cold and warm touch, breathing out a sigh. "Fuck, Gav. You sure you aren't deviant?"

Gavin rolled his eyes, sucking a big bruise where everyone could see even if Connor completely buttoned up his shirt. "Shut it–you'll have to do a lot more than that to deviate me."

"Oh, so I'm allowed to do more?" Connor quirked an eyebrow, and Gavin huffed but nodded. "Wait, really? You're giving me full consent, this isn't just your programming making you, right?" Great, now he could see the panic on Connor's face

He leaned up and kissed him gently, his hand cupping his cheek. Connor made the smallest noise and kissed back, a pretty flush dusting his cheeks and reddening his ears.

"Does that answer your question?" He mumbled against his lips, brushing his thumb against Connor's sharp cheekbones. Now he wanted to deviate just so Connor wouldn't have any more doubts.

Connor nods, smiling into another slow kiss. "Yeah… it does."

Gavin let his hand wander down, brushing over bones he shouldn't have been able to feel this easily. "Good. Now, do you want to go on a date with me?" No one could ever say he wasn't blunt and to the point. He knew what he wanted, and he'd go for it.

"Um, yeah, but we can't just leave work."

"Cool, we're going on a lunch date. You can get whatever you want, even if it's just like a salad, and we'll kiss a lot more too. We might even take a walk around a park if we have enough time." He wasn't just going on a date to make sure Connor ate, but it certainly helped.

"Gavin," Connor growled out, which damn, but Gavin would not back down.

"Nope. You'll do this for me. I want you to be healthy." Especially if they were going to do certain things, he wanted Connor to be able to have as much stamina as possible. He leaned up and kissed him slower this time, but no less wanting.

Connor kissed back but pulled away with a sigh. "Fine. Whatever. You can't even eat anyway." That was true, but he knew Connor would jump down his neck if he knew he was low on thirium sometimes.

"I know," Gavin shrugged, "but I can still enjoy the date." There were many things he could do while Connor ate. "Come on, I know a few good places unless you wanna pick the place." It only took a quick search to find a nice place for Connor to eat.

He gently tugged Connor by his hand back into the building so they could leave out the front. He didn't care about the looks he got and flipped over two people that sneered at him. He didn't care what they thought, he had Connor, and they were going on a fucking date.

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thewayshedreamed · 4 years

Text

This Time— Part 2

A Nessian Fan Fic

Fic Masterlist

Alright, here it is! All of your responses to my first post were so encouraging, so I thank all of you for that! I was so nervous to post anything that I’ve written, and y’all made me feel so welcomed. Anyway, here’s the continuation of my angsty Nessian fic, This Time. It’s a long one, but I wanted to give some insight into Nesta’s headspace while also setting the occasion for the next part! Hope y’all enjoy it.

If you missed part one, you can find it here.

———————————————————————————-

A dull throb in her temples caused Nesta to stir in the early hours of Sunday morning. She was vaguely aware that it was raining, thunder rolling in a steady rhythm. She turned onto her back and gritted her teeth at the intensifying pain in her head. It suddenly radiated from her temples, meeting in the middle of her forehead and behind her eyes. For the briefest of moments, she wondered about the luck she had (or didn’t have) to wake up feeling like this. No recent illness, no allergies, no alcohol the night before. She blinked into the darkness as she considered, willing her cognition to catch up to her conscious state. Her answer became apparent when her eyes felt gritty as she blinked, and upon rubbing them, she felt a faint tenderness over and around her lids.

Ah, that’s right. The crying.

The events of the previous night flooded her memory.

I’m so gone for you...

You should go...

We can’t be friends after this conversation.

You don’t mean that...

The maddeningly soft click of the door echoed in her mind repeatedly, emulating the rhythm of her heartbeat. She slammed her eyes shut and turned sharply onto her side to bury her face into the pillow.

So often, people talk about the all-consuming relief that comes with waking from a nightmare and realizing none of it was real. These are the stories told at dinner with family or friends, at lunch with co-workers, or at larger social gatherings. Account after account is shared of cheating spouses, car accidents, home invasions, etc., followed by an expression of overwhelming relief at realizing it was all a dream.

Almost never do people discuss the ugly alternative. The micro-interval of time immediately upon waking where one exists in blissful ignorance, followed by the sudden gut-punch of recollection. The ambush of emotions surrounding some life-altering event.

Nesta caught herself grasping for that tiny shred of time, just moments prior, where she was only navigating a headache.

She felt her pulse quicken and her body start to flush, both being clear indicators of her heightened anxiety. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she felt a slight tremble starting to run through her chest and stomach. She closed her eyes as tears threatened to pool yet again and focused on taking a few deep breaths. She lazily reached out, feeling around until she located another pillow across her too large bed. She clutched it tightly against her chest and abdomen, willing it to ground her somehow. Tucking it close to her body and keeping an iron grip, she started to count her breaths until she finally drifted back to sleep.

———-

She had to cancel lunch with Elain and Feyre that Sunday, having slept long enough that she didn’t have enough time to make herself presentable. After explaining that she was suffering from a crippling headache (with no mention of its origin), they sent their well wishes and told her to call if she needed absolutely anything.

Her mornings persisted in a similar manner for the rest of the week. Usually one to rise on her first alarm, she couldn’t find the motivation to do so no matter how hard she tried. She snoozed her alarm a half-dozen times, finally dragging herself out of bed to dress quickly, grab a protein bar, and fly out the door for work.

Work served as a decent distraction from current events. She stayed busy and engaged, allowing her to completely ignore her phone and avoid any personal questions. She knew her sisters would be worried after telling them she was ill, and it was a matter of time before news of her and Cassian’s fight permeated their group of friends. Her sisters would likely put two and two together. Busy bodies. Fiercely loyal, protective, and supportive, but busy bodies all the same.

Several evenings that week she had received several variations of “check in” texts from them, as well as a couple of their friends.

Elain:

”Hey, Nes! Hoping you’re feeling better. Just wanted to check in and see how you are!”

Feyre:

”Just checking in, sister! I hadn’t heard from you since we cancelled lunch, so I hope you’re doing okay! Love you!”

Mor:

”Hi, love! I haven’t seen you in DAYS. Far too long. Please tell me I’ll see you soon! And that you’re alive and well. <3”

Amren:

“Alright. Spill. What’s going on with you? You haven’t responded to anything I’ve sent you, and I’ve sent you some funny shit.”

Nesta drafted one text, copying and pasting it to each and every one of them. She didn’t have the emotional energy to answer the question at all, much less several times over.

“Hey! Thanks for checking on me. I’m sorry I’m just getting back to you! Things have just been crazy this week. I’ve been busy, but I’m fine! We’ll get together soon.”

She stared at the lie over and over again.

I’m fine...

Although, deep down, she knew. If she were fine, she wouldn’t keep scrolling to a certain text thread. She wouldn’t be reading and re-reading their previous conversations, and she definitely wouldn’t be focused on the date and time stamp of the last received message from days ago.

———

Nesta had been conflicted about Saturday all week long. She had very specific plans: sleep as late as her body would possibly allow, have coffee on the back porch, catch up on her reading, take a long nap, stream as much nonsense television as she could handle, have a bottle of wine, go to sleep. She had been looking forward to the peaceful oblivion of deep sleep, yet she found herself dreading the passage of her free time. It had taken a couple of days to land on an acceptable itinerary, and she felt better with a certain course of action.

She awoke to her covers being abruptly pulled away and the pillow pulled off the top of her head. She groaned dramatically and turned over to identify the offender, fully prepared to sling insults their way for interrupting her sleep. Before she could formulate a cohesive thought, a deep, familiar voice interrupted her.

“Enough of this, Nes. Get up. We’re going to brunch,” the voice announced, his tone dry and neutral.

Nesta’s eyes shot open, falling on a pair of hazel eyes that dared her to be uncooperative.

“What the fuck, Az? How did you even get in here? And what if I were naked?!”

”Look, I pulled the short straw. You’ve barely spoken to anyone all week. When you did, your responses were short and contrived. Your friends and family are worried, and I got volunteered to enter the lion’s den as the only one who isn’t afraid of waking you up.”

”That doesn’t answer all my questions,” she muttered as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“I’ve driven you and your sisters home on enough drunken nights to know where your spare key is. And I saw the sleeve of your sweater before I pulled the covers off. Give me a little credit.” He turned away from her to walk out of her bedroom. As he crossed the threshold, he paused with his hand on the door jamb. He glanced over his left shoulder as he said, “You have 15 minutes. I’ll be in here waiting for you.”

Nesta really contemplated throwing a full-scale temper tantrum by throwing herself under the covers and refusing to get up. A deep rumble in her stomach ultimately made her decide against it, so she stood up and padded over to her closet. She selected her favorite pair of jeggings, silently thanking the Cauldron that she had worn them once already so that they were perfectly stretched. She grabbed a sports bra and a long-sleeved tunic, put on some casual sneakers, and walked over to her bathroom to finish getting ready.

She wasn’t one for much makeup anyway, so she opted to wash her face, moisturize, and apply a little mascara. She brushed her teeth, applied a generous layer of chapstick, and quickly French-braided her hair down the center of her back. She glanced down at her phone; 12 minutes. Suck on that, Azriel.

She walked out of her bedroom, down the hallway, and found Azriel perched on the arm of her sofa, scrolling through his phone. Sensing her approach, he locked his phone and stood.

“All ready?” He grabbed his keys from his front pocket.

“Sure. Whenever you are.” She looked around for her small purse and grabbed it off of the coffee table. “Wait... did you clean up in here?”

She knew there was something different when she walked in, but it had taken her a minute to realize what. Gone were the take out containers from her countertops and coffee table. All the various cups she had left all over her apartment were nowhere to be seen, and her blankets were folded neatly in a stack.

Azriel cleared his throat and looked around. “Not really. I noticed your trash can was full when I threw my gum away, and I thought it would be pointless to bring it out and not get everything.”

She bit her cheek to stop her smile at his sheepishness. He had always been a good friend to her, but she knew he preferred when it went under the radar. No one blushed faster or got more awkward than Azriel on the receiving end of appreciation or a compliment.

“Ah. I see. And I guess the blankets folded themselves, then. Or did you need to fold them to ‘get everything?’”

“Nes, you know I cleaned up in here, so can we go already?” He was already turning toward her door, flustered and mildly irritated with her teasing. She gripped his bicep to turn him around before he made it outside.

“I’m sorry, Az. You’re a wonderful friend, and I don’t deserve you. Let’s go have some brunch and forget it, ok?”

He gave her a sideways smile and playfully shoved her shoulder. “Fine. But next time, you’re walking.”

———-

The drive over to the small cafe was short, so the pair sat in comfortable silence on the way. Upon arriving, Azriel found a small table in the corner of the patio, instructed her to sit, and walked inside to place their order. When he returned, he was holding a mug of coffee for Nesta and a mug of earl grey tea for himself.

“The food should come out in about 10-15 minutes. I couldn’t remember how you take your coffee exactly, so I just brought you a ton of shit.” He wasn’t exaggerating. He placed a handful of different creamers and sweeteners in the center of the table.

Nesta gave a small chuckle at his gesture, noting that it felt good to laugh for the first time in days. She couldn’t help but feel grateful that it was Azriel who had pulled her out of bed this morning, if it had to be anyone. They were more alike than most would assume, and they had made very fast friends all those years ago. She loved the purity of their relationship, built on years of trust and mutual respect, but never crossing beyond anything other than platonic. Cassian had always joked about being “outnumbered” around the two of them, commenting on their likeness and how he managed to find kindred spirits as his best friends.

The thought of him elicited a slight pang in her stomach, and she quickly shoved it down. She was pulled from her thoughts by Azriel’s voice.

“So. You want to talk about what’s going on?”

”Gods, Azriel. I haven’t even gotten the caffeine in my system.”

He took a sip of his tea, only breaking eye contact to blow gently on the hot liquid. He regained eye contact as he set his mug back down.

“We haven’t heard anything genuine from you in a week. Forgive us for being a little worried. I’m assuming it has something to do with Cassian?”

As she suspected, hearing his name struck a nerve and caused a certain heaviness in her chest. She felt herself becoming defensive, and even though her logical mind knew it had nothing to do with Az, she was snapping at him before she realized it was happening.

“Why is everyone acting like I’m off the deep end?! Maybe I’ve just been busy for a week. Cauldron forbid if I take some time for my damn self. And why the fuck would you immediately jump to him? As if my life doesn’t exist beyond all of you? And beyond him?” She felt herself flush out of anger. Or embarrassment. Who the hell knew anymore?

Azriel seemed almost entirely unaffected by her verbal lashing. He took a couple of seconds, leaned forward with his forearms on the table, and clasped his hands in front of him. He looked at her intensely, and she knew she was not going to get anything sugarcoated in this conversation.

“Need I remind you that I know both of you like the back of my hand? I’m not shooting in the dark here. You’ve been essentially MIA for a week, and that timespan directly correlates with Cassian being an absolute terror to be around. The odds of that being a coincidence are incredibly low. So, Nes, I’ll ask you to please cut the shit.” He voice remained even and steady. There was no true malice in his words, just the bluntness that exists between two close friends. He picked up his mug, leaned back in his chair, and waited.

Nesta’s posture softened slightly as she rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger. She let out a long breath and looked up to meet Azriel’s gaze again.

“Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. And I should also realize by now that you notice fucking everything.”

He merely nodded, acknowledging her apology and prompting her to continue with one simple gesture. She blew out another breath, preparing herself to explain everything. In the meantime, their food arrived, so she waited until the waiter walked away before beginning her story. She told him everything, even the uncomfortable details. Cassian’s confession. Her reaction. His anger. Her anger. The devastation on his face. As much as she could remember of their interaction. And finally, the words she couldn’t stop replaying in her mind. This time, it’s on you.

He listened intently, only offering small nods or slight facial expressions during the more intense parts of their conversation. Once she was finished, he let out a long whistle and said, “Damn, Nesta. You’re officially the most savage of the Archerons.”

“I’m sorry... what?”

“I’m not saying that to be insulting. I just meant that you kind of handed him his ass there.”

Nesta started at him, urging him to elaborate before she felt inclined to jump down his throat again. He picked up on her prompting and continued.

“Well, to be fair, Cassian’s full of it. The fact that he thought he was going to be able to sleep with you and continue being friends is short-sighted at best. Can’t blame him for trying, but considering how long he’s been in love with you, he was setting himself up for failure there.”

Now, she was gawking at him. How was he being so nonchalant about this bombshell? How long had Cassian been in love with her? And why the hell had he waited until now to say a damn word about it?

”How long, Azriel?” Her voice was so quiet that she wasn’t sure that he’d even heard her.

It was his turn to look surprised. “Are you telling me you didn’t know? Anyone within a mile of the two of you could have seen it.”

She shook her head, realizing she didn’t think she could handle the direction of this conversation. “Never mind. Regardless, we had an agreement that our friendship was too important to risk on anything serious and that it was supposed to remain purely casual. It’s done now. It’s not like it matters.”

A few seconds passed before she glanced up at Azriel. His brow was furrowed, conflicted with what he was going to say next.

”What? Just tell me.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of bullshit, Nes? I get that you both agreed on those terms, but I think it’s kind of fucked overall. You’re telling me that the potential of a relationship wasn’t worth the risk but casual sex was worth it? That doesn’t make sense.”

She breathed sharply out of her nose before she responded. “Had the agreement been honored, we could have enjoyed our time together, and we could have stopped once life events called for it. If one of us started dating someone... if one of us moved... things like that. It’s fairly straightforward.” She wasn’t trying to hide the bite behind her words, but he still didn’t seem offended. She tried not to find his level-headedness infuriating, but her patience was thinning by the second. To her surprise, his composure slipped a little.

”And how did you think that was going to play out? You both would shake hands, go your own ways, and continue to hang out with each other as before? You would have been totally fine with Cassian dating another woman? And do you really think Cassian would be a-okay with sitting in the front row at your wedding one day? Has it ever occurred to you that you two always dislike anyone that the other dates? No one ever loves Cassian the right way. No one ever makes Nesta happy enough. Why do you think that—“

”Alright, alright! I get it.“ She held her hands up in supplication. “The fact remains, though, that it’s over. It’s done. We screwed up, and it cost me my best friend. We’ll never be the same.” She felt her eyes brimming with tears.

She was vaguely aware of Azriel apologizing for his outburst and suggesting that they head back. She forced a nod, stood up from her chair, and walked to his car. Once inside and buckled, he turned to her.

”Hey. I really am sorry.”

”Don’t apologize. You were being honest with me, which is something I’ve always valued so much in you. Don’t go soft on me now.” She managed the smallest of smiles.

“Deal. But the same goes for you. Our mutual honesty has saved us a lot of trouble over the years. Makes our friendship easy.”

”You’re right. Why couldn’t it have been us to fall in love?” She huffed a laugh, making sure he knew her comment was in jest. She turned to look at him as he finished backing out of their parking spot.

Azriel hit his brakes a little harder than usual at her words. He chuckled, turning to look at her with a small smile. “What good would that do us? What would we do for fun? Brood?”

Nesta laughed, truly laughed, at the truth in his words. Azriel made a wonderful friend to her, but there would be very little personal growth within their hypothetical relationship. She smiled at him, squeezed his forearm briefly, and said, “Fair enough. I guess we wouldn’t push each other to grow all that much.”

He continued to drive, eyes straight ahead. He still wore signs of amusement on his face, but his tone turned a little more serious. “No. We wouldn’t. I think that’s why Cassian has always been a great balance for people like us. We get way too comfortable in the dark.”

”Mmm. People like Cassian, for sure. Maybe people like Elain, too?” She gave him a knowing smile.

He pulled up in the driveway and placed the car in park before looking at her. She could see the faint blush on his cheeks at the mention of her sister, but she wouldn’t push him. She knew he was smitten with Elain and had been for some time. She hadn’t spoken to him plainly about it, but she could tell by the way they interacted that they were a matter of time. Inevitable, even.

“We’re not talking about me today. Only you.”

She giggled at his deflection. “Thank you again for today. I needed the coffee, the waffles, the venting, and the swift kick in the ass.”

”Of course. Speaking of Ellie, what’s your plan for her birthday party next weekend? You know Cass will be there.”

“Oh, man. I think I blocked that out.” She opened the door, stepped out of the car, and peered down at him before adding, ”That, my friend, is something I will have to play by ear.”

——————————————————————————-

A/N: Sorry for no Nessian interaction this time, but I just love the idea of a Nesta x Azriel brotp. I couldn’t help myself. Nessian interaction to come, I promise!

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