#hours before i was supposed to get off. oh but my twilight figure came in on time! now i just gotta hunt down AJ.....

[luv-isab3lla]

Jealous girl (ellie williams x reader)

warnings: MDI, SMUT, r!receiving mostly, Ellie has a hair pulling kink, switch(ish), e!begging, ellie is jealous, collage students

‼️ALL CREDITS GO TO ORIGINAL WRITER‼️

Ellie hated you sometimes.

You were so happy and light, everyone wanted to be around you. Ellie couldn’t blame them, her girl was the kindest social butterfly anyone has ever seen.

But that means Eillie had competition to fight off.

She has been watching you talk to your university friend, Jesse, for almost an hour now. It was movie night at your place: You, Ellie, Jesse and three of your other friends had watched the whole Twilight series. 

It was now 11pm and and everyone had gone home, but Jesse decided to have another conversation with you at the front door. Ellie had been watching you both from the couch, waiting for you to say goodbye and slam the door on his face, but you kept laughing.

Ellie felt anger bubble in her chest, there was a part of her that wanted to slam Jesse’s head into the doorframe if he didn’t leave in the next five minutes.

“No but seriously!” You laughed, leaning against the open door that you had opened for Jesse almost thirty minutes ago. “I swear that professor is out to get me.”

“I’m sure he isn’t.” Jesse chucked, his eyes hopeful.

But he could feel Ellie's presence, her narrow eyes trained on him as her arms were crossed over her heavy breathing chest. Jesse’s eyes darted to where Ellie sat then back to you, his nerves growing by the second.

“You’re too nice,” You were ever the oblivious. “but he most definitely is.”

“No one can hate you.”

That made something snap in Ellie, it was as if Jesse said the worst words possible in that situation. 

Who even was he? Why did he have that look in his eyes? Did you want him to look at you this way? 

Ellie's mind was racing as she pushed herself off from the couch and walked to the front door, standing behind you, her body pressing into your back.

“Thank you so much, Jesse.” Ellie forced a smile onto her face, it came out menacing and Jesse felt small. “We hope you have a good night.”

“Oh.” Jesse’s eyes were filled with fear and remorse, he looked at you for some sort of rebuttal.

You side-eyed Ellie, confused at her hostility towards your friend but you didn’t want to fight it. You knew Ellie, you knew that the auburn haired girl would only make things worse if you didn’t console her.

“See ya, Jesse.” You smiled and let the boy walk out the door, waving happily. “Have a safe drive home.”

Jesse smiled meekly. The image of you waving warmly and with a beaming smile on your face, and then Ellie's taller figure looming over your shoulder, a dark look on her face as the boy walked to his car scared him.

You closed the door and turned to Ellie quickly, crossing your arms over your chest and cocking your head to the side.

“Okay, what was that?”

"What?” Ellie said as sarcastically as she could. “Did I interrupt something?”

Ellie walked to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water. You followed her, trailing after the hostile girl. 

“Are you ok? What happened?” You asked, your voice full of concern. 

"What do you mean? Nothing happened. You can leave and get back to talking with your best friend Jesse if you want" Ellie spat over her shoulder, her body facing the sink and away from you.

You pulled a sour face at her comment, "What's that supposed to mean?"

“Seemed like you were having a good time with him, sorry I ruined it.” Ellie turned round to face you, the kitchen sink pressed against her back.

"Excuse me? Why are you angry at me for talking to my friend in my own house?” You huffed back.

"I’m not angry."

"Then why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset!" Ellie shouted. She had never shouted at you like this before; she has ignored or rebuffed you if she's angry, but never yelled.

You watched her, the way Ellie's chest rose and fell quickly, the red hue across her cheeks, and the way that she avoided all eye contact. 

"You’re not jealous are you?" You hid your smile.

Ellie looked up at you, she pulled a questioning face, almost as if she was offended by what you said.

"No, I'm not jealous” Her eyes were sharp and steady, you tried to stay strong under the gaze.  

"You’re jealous, why?" You said bluntly, forcing an answer out of her.

“Fucking hell,” Ellie was getting nervous under the pressure, “just drop it, okay?”

“No, I don’t wanna drop it.”

“Seriously, Y/N.” The stubborn girl threw her head back, looking up at the ceiling. “Leave it.”

“I’m not doing that.” Your foot tapped on the tiles in your kitchen, irritating Ellie even more. “Just tell me what’s going on.” 

Ellie sighed, moving to stand closer to her. She dropped her arms from being across her chest to staying by her side, opening up her posture.

“I’m not stupid Y/N, and neither is he." Ellie let out, letting go of the breath in her chest. "He likes you and obviously thinks you like him too. And maybe you do.”

“Jesse doesn’t like me.” You looked at Ellie with full sincerity, like you genuinely believed your words.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Ellie could almost laugh at how blind you were.

You didn’t know what Ellie was talking about, your friendship with Jesse is nothing more than that, a friendship. Ellie's annoyance at it, after only witnessing it for one night, was annoying too. You just wanted her to get along with your friends, but now she was picking fights. 

“I just,” Ellie brought her hands up to rub her face, “I don't like the way he looks at you. He’s got this look in his eye, and it pisses me off.”

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t want anyone looking at you like that.”

“Like what?” You had a feeling that you knew already, but you wanted to hear it come from Ellie. 

“The way that I look at you.” Ellie said it through gritted teeth, as if it pained her to be vulnerable. “Like he wants you in the same way I want you.”

It was music to your ears, the exact words you wanted to hear. Seeing the burrnette girl stand in front of you with a desperate look in her eyes, it did something to you.

You stepped forward and put Ellie's hands on your hips, putting your own hands on her shoulders. 

“And how do you want me?” 

You inwardly cringed at your choice in words but Ellie seemed to like it, her eyes going dark and mouth falling open as she dumbly took in the change in atmosphere. The girl slowly nodded her head before attaching her lips to your neck, her hands tightening around your waist.

Ellie's breath got heavier the longer she sucked and bit your neck, you threaded your fingers into Ellie's dark locks and tugged. 

“I want you on the couch.” 

You could have came at Ellie's voice, how low and raspy it was. Her strong hands began pushing you towards the couch, her lips ghosting over yours but not letting you close the gap, pulling back and chuckling every time you tried to lean up and press your lips together. 

Your legs hit the back of the couch and you fell onto the soft fabric, a sound of surprise leaving your mouth. You took a moment to see Ellie's toned body standing over you, how weak you looked and felt in comparison to the girl in front of you. 

Ellie reached out and held your jaw, forcing you to look up at her face. 

“So pretty.” 

You groaned softly at the compliment, your eyebrows drawing together as the sudden urge to have Ellie's body on yours took over you. Although Ellie had every physical advantage over you, being so strong and lean, she was always gentle and careful with how she held you.

“My pretty girl,” Ellie laughed softly at your face before kneeling in front of you, “I’ll make you feel good, yeah?”

Ellie's calloused hands dragged up and down your bare thighs, stopping when she reached the hem of your shorts and then dragging back down again.

“Are you going to do somethin-“

Ellie cuts you off, closing the distance between your lips. You kissed her back, loving the way she melts and goes slack against you. Ellie's lips are soft and sweet, tasting just like the sweets you both had eaten during the night. She breaks away and goes to kissing your neck and further down. 

You started bucking your hips when Ellie kissed the top of your thighs, begging for more contact. Ellie's fingers curled around the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down along with your underwear.

“Ellie.” You moaned it out into the silent air around you, your head thrown back to rest on the back of the couch.

“Mhm?” Ellie touched her lips lightly to your inner thigh, nipping the skin then pressing soft kisses over the hurt skin.

Your hands covered your face, trying to calm your erratic breathing as your lust was taking over your body.

“You're so wet," Ellie whispers with a shiver, her brain fogging with thick desire. "You look amazing, bet you taste even better."

She presses another kiss on your thigh, higher now, her face now buried between your legs. Ellie clasps her arms around your legs, pulling them to rest on her shoulders. Her hands feel their way up underneath your shirt, groping your boobs and pinching your nipples. Ellie's mouth devours your pussy, sucking and licking with a newfound fever. 

Your fingers clench around Ellie's dark hair, pulling it tightly, and Ellie groans. 

Fuck, how can giving someone else pleasure make her feel so good.

Ellie uses a free hand to grab a pillow from the couch and places it between her legs, grinding down on the plush as she wraps her lips around your clit. The feeling of her own pussy grinding on the pillow whilst she ate you out made her moan uncontrollably, the vibrations almost sending you over the edge. 

You moaned and began grinding yourself onto Ellie's face, pulling on the dark strands of hair to try and drag Ellie's face closer to you.

"I like that," Ellie says in a ragged breath. "Do it again. Harder.”

You looked down and cocked your eyebrow, lips parted to try and get as much air into your lungs, but you don't move. So Ellie digs her fingers deeper into your thighs, face lifted towards you, lips parted and covered in your slick.

"Do it again," she whispers. "Please."

The plea is soft and quiet, it makes Ellie feel ridiculous, it makes her feel desperate. You stopped breathing for a brief moment. Watching Ellie be so sweet, a stark contrast between this Ellie and the girl that hated was just yelling and being rude almost gave you whiplash.

“Apologise.”

You had never been one to be dominant or demanding, but the look of Ellie begging in between your legs drew something out of you. Even Ellie looked confused, her eyebrows knitting together. She was normally the one to demand things from you.

“Apologise for being mean to me.” Your eyes were dark, a sight Ellie had never seen before but needed more of. “Beg for my forgiveness.”

Ellie didn’t do anything at first, although she desperately wanted to continue her actions on you and for you to keep pulling her hair, she couldn’t give into you so easily.

But god she wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” the words were soft and sultry, “I’m sorry, baby. Please. Please keep pulling my hair. I’m so sorry for being mean.” 

As Ellie whispered the words, her hands kept rubbing your thighs, her lips ghosting over the skin as she spoke the slutty words. 

It was enough for you, you smiled and almost felt bad for how needy Ellie looked. Your fingers grasp a fistful of Ellie's hair and you tugged it, drawing Ellie's head backward. Ellie couldn't help the long, deep moan she let out.

"Fuck.” Ellie pants, because it's all too hot and she feels like she's suffocating, but still she needed more.

Ellie's slim fingers stroke your clit, pushing two fingers inside you and making you cry out.

"I want to be yours.” She whispers, thrusting her fingers in and out. You whimpered as Ellie scissored them inside you, back arching off the couch

“You are mine.” You gasped as Ellie added another finger, speeding up her thrusting. Her digits brush up against that one spot inside you and you arch your back, crying out loudly as the band inside you snapped. You moan through your orgasm, tears slipping from your eyes.

"So messy for me.” Ellie moans, bringing her fingers into her mouth and sucking your juices off them.

Ellie stands up and pushes you to rest on the couch, coming to hover over your body. Your chests connect and Ellie's fingers go back to your clit, circling and trying to draw out another orgasm from you.

You whimper at the overstimulation, but still you draw Ellie in and kiss her, mouths open and sloppy against each other. 

"Fuck, you're so hot.” Ellie pants, roughly pushing two fingers inside her own pants and into her dripping cunt, thrusting them furiously above you. 

She moans your name breathily, a thumb pressing onto her clit as she desperately tries to make herself come. Her knees are shaking as she quickens her fingers on your clit and her other hand thrusting into her own needy pussy. She was so close, so close that it hurt.

“Let me.” You sigh, quickly replacing Ellie's fingers with your own. You work on her, touching all the right spots and making her come almost instantaneously. 

Ellie's now free hand goes to rest on the arm of the couch above your head, her other hand pressed harder and faster on your clit. You both worked in a lust filled fever to get each other off. 

You smiled at how needy Ellie was, eyes squeezed shut as she rocked herself on your hand. She was so sensitive, it was too easy. The feeling of your fingers in her was what she had been craving the whole night, and as soon as her slim fingers entered her, Ellie had moaned loudly. So loud that your were afraid your neighbours could hear you both through the house walls.

You came just after Ellie, your own orgasm drawing another moan from your throat. The shaking feeling of coming down from your second high made you instantly tired. Ellie collapses forward, her orgasm overwhelming her.

Ellie rests her head on your chest, looking up at you with every ounce of love in her body. All she wanted to do was make you feel good, to try and prove to you why you should choose her, be hers and hers only. It was selfish, her reasons, but seeing the look on your face, she didn’t care.

“You're mine - mine only.” Ellie said it softly, almost like she didn’t want you to even hear her.

You were so blissed out, too dumb to say anything. Instead you just nodded your head and kissed Ellie's head, your hand going up to cup the burnettes face and stroking her cheek with your thumb.

"Okay, jealous girl."

#ellie williams #the last of us #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #jealousy #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou2

[goneadrift]

AO3 First Lines Tag Game

Thanks @klainelynch and @dairogo for tagging!

Rules: Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

It’s been a while since I last did this so there are new ones. Putting it under cut because it’s getting rather long...

Some of these are chapters but really they're stand alone works so I'll count them in.

FMA, Havolina & Riza (fluff, pre-relationship) 

“Havoc, seriously?” Riza said amusedly as she clambered onto a bar stool next to her teammate. “We grab lunch here every day but the food isn’t good enough to choose it willingly for dinner. No offence, Becca,” she sent an apologetic smile to her friend.

FMA, Rebecca & Riza (light hearted banter) 

“Call me when you get back home. Or whenever you need me to pick you.” “Ri, that’s not my first date and you’re not my mom.”

FMA, Havolina & Riza (established relationship, temporary memory loss, fluff)

The rhythmic beeping machine sound was loud in the otherwise silent hospital room. Riza’d find the noise irritating if wasn’t monitoring her best friend’s heart rate and reassuring her that Rebecca was indeed simply sleeping.

FMA, Havolina (post-canon, established relationship, fluff) 

As they successfully escaped Riza’s interrogation, Jean was trying to estimate damage after what he said at Mustang’s office.

take the risk (it's worth getting caught), FMA, Havolina (post-canon, established secret relationship with mutual pinning) 

The saying goes that the perversity of the universe tends towards a maximum. Rebecca was sure that it exceeded the maximum whenever time crept closer to holidays or her days off.

no one sees how i'm burning, FMA, Rebecca & Riza (Riza centric, angst, outside perspective, kinda character study) 

Rumor had it that the Flame Alchemist was like a tinderbox. A sudden move, a wrong word, a dirty glance — anything might set him off. His reputation preceded him after the war in Ishval. Within the military the impression of a volatile and potentially rogue veteran only cemented after the escape and murder of Maria Ross. The accident in Central was bad enough that the talks reached the other Commands. However, after years of knowing Riza Hawkeye and serving to General Grumman, Rebecca Catalina knew better than to believe whatever rubbish she heard or to take anything at face value.

pour my heart into your hands, FMA, Royai (established relationship, romantic fluff) 

Captain Hawkeye heard strange noises coming from the office even before she entered. Their office, which was supposed to be empty save for the “Second Lieutenant” Hayate. “...the signal...” “...go exactly where...” “...good boy, good Hayate!...” Someone clearly was there and, judging by the lack of fuss from Hayate, this someone was a familiar figure in her dog’s life.

Valérian et Laureline, Laureline/Valérian (canon compliant, angst) 

Laureline was laying on her bed for what felt like hours. She kept staring up at the ceiling, lost in memories and twisting the ring on her finger. Feels like an eternity since I last saw you. Time and everything that tended to come with it was a touchy subject for them — hence the sweeter this admission seemed.

Is this the ending of what we've begun? SPY x FAMILY, Loid/Yor (identity reveal, angst) 

"And what shall we do with this one?" The stranger remained silent, only breathing heavily — the beating and the bounds must have been hard on his joints. Yor didn't hurry up to release him.

The things I feel now I never thought I'd find, SPY x FAMILY, Loid/Yor (protective Loid Forger, inspired by fanart) 

Twilight didn’t know how it came to this. Or he knew but never let himself think hard about it. Till it became too late. Till he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. Oh how blind he was. But this particular guilt was fruitless now.

Tagging @scienceoftheidiot @traumschwinge @musing-and-music @jedidragonwarriorqueen @nightofnyx8 if you want to 🧡

#tag game #gone writing

[evilasiangenius]

Time passed meaningless in the perpetual twilight within the tall jar, and it seemed like Crawly slipped in and out of a pleasant sleepy unconsciousness, occasionally waking for a moment when a human came into this room though they did not linger.

Sometimes footsteps could be heard. Even more rarely, someone’s voice. Strange, how few people came in here, and the snake wondered; what kind of personal room was this? How did the queen use this room? Crawly tried to remember the layout but it wasn’t an easy prospect, not when the snake had only caught a bare glimpse of hangings and furniture before being set down into a jar. One thing that Crawly was certain of however was that it was not a bedchamber or a sitting room, and given the warmth, Crawley wondered if it was some sort of special store room for snakes.

A snake store room, just as they had store rooms for books.

A snake library.

Crawly hissed in amusement, laughing silently as snakes do, before curling up once more, the tip of a long tail covering a cool nose before drowsing off again.

The rasping sound of the lid being moved as well as a cool draft that trickled down the tall sides of the jar stirred Crawly into waking. A light, nothing more than a little oil lamp whose brightness could not really chase away the shadows was set down on a nearby table, and Crawly tasted the faint scent of molecules of burning olive oil with a flickering tongue.

The demon looked up, yawning, wondering what time it was and if there was a drink of wine to be had and where in Hell Asmodeus was, if he had left the demon to sleep on the warm floor but then Crawly remembered being a snake in a jar.

Despite the darkness, Crawly could see clearly the figure of Olympias as she sat down, dragging the tall ceramic container close and the snake felt the hollow rasp of the bottom of the jar scraping along the floor, rattling through every rib and vertebrae.

And then, nothing.

Crawly looked up, curious, but there was nothing to see from here. The snake tried to crawl up the side of the jar, but it was too slick and so the snake yawned, settling back down in the warm darkness, wondering what to do. Couldn’t change shape, not while in the jar, would either get stuck or break something, and possibly not the jar. Maybe become a bit bigger to become long enough to slither out? Later, when there were no humans about. Probably should return soon to report in...

And while Crawly thought those demon thoughts, the queen sat for a long time quiet, her arm slung around the jar.

Finally, after about an hour by Crawly’s estimation, she sat up.

“Do you know what’s tedious, little snake?” Olympias leaned over the vessel, peering down at Crawly who gazed up at her with unblinking golden eyes.

Unable to shrug, Crawly did the second best thing, which was flick a long forked tongue and wiggle the tip of a thin tail.

“Everything. Every single day. If I didn’t have to do this, I wouldn’t. Fighting and scheming and strategizing… I’d rather read books and see plays and play games of strategy. Spend time only with my friends but know who I could really be friends with, and not suspect everyone who wants to get close. Be comfortable and not think constantly about dressing up and cosmetics and what to eat or what not to eat and how I look, and if I’m still desirable…and do you think I’m still beautiful, snake? Oh, what does it matter, why is it so important, that I’m even asking you? I hate that I have to think like this. It feels so shallow and insipid.

“If the world was different, I’d want to travel and see new places, meet new people all over the world, hear new ideas. And when I came back from all this traveling, I’d run the government better. Improve the economy. Build new cities. I have lots of ideas, but you don’t want to hear about my ideas for land reform or taxation or military budgets; no man does. Though are you male or female, snake? I never looked, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Olympias sighed deeply.

“If...there’s something you ought to know, snake. It’s…” And the queen fell silent for a long time, and then she whispered her words into the jar, as if afraid of being heard. “It’s hard enough some days just sleeping and eating and drinking. Sometimes I think, wouldn’t it be easier to just pick someone like you up in my arms? And just...let you have a little bite. Just a nibble, right here, right along the neck. Enough so I don’t have to worry about sleeping and eating and drinking anymore.”

Crawly winced, but an impassive snake’s face gave nothing away, and so the snake moved about along the smooth bottom of the jar, unsettled.

“Don’t worry, I would never do it. I’m not so tired of life, just this life. Besides, I can’t let him win. After all, what would happen to my son if I wasn’t here to protect him? Tossed away, lost amidst his father’s growing army of children and bastards. No, I have a reason to live, even if I don’t feel like it all the time.”

Olympias hugged the jar, resting her chin against the lip.

“Somehow I doubt you’re magic. But then again, maybe you are. Would it matter? Even a magic snake is just a little snake at the end of the day. You can’t get rid of the dreams. I can’t get rid of the dreams. I can’t get rid of the past. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t go back to who I was. Do you feel like this sometimes too, snake?”

Crawly wiggled that tail a bit more, hoping that maybe she would understand what that meant, even though Crawly wasn’t even sure if it meant anything.

“Maybe you don’t. But at least you also know what it’s like to be named and unnamed all at once. If you wanted to ask me what that means, I...I would tell you the truth.” But Olympias said nothing.

The snake could feel the soft vibration of her breathing, of her heartbeat resonating through the walls of the jar.

Finally she sighed. “All right, and perhaps this is foolish to tell you. After all, if you’re a magical snake, sacred to the Egyptians, you probably already know this. But just in case. This...this isn’t my name. Not my real name. I’m not actually Olympias. I mean, I am. That’s what everyone calls me now. These days, no one is allowed to call me by the name that I chose for myself, Myrtale.”

Crawly stiffened, thinking about the name that had been attached to this form since those terrible times after the Fall, the one that had never really suited the demon well, and the new name that had been chosen that sufficed, lacking a better option.

“My initiate name. The name that was more me than the name that my father gave me.”

And Crawly wondered; was Crowley more of a name than the name that the Creator had bestowed? The one lost in the Fall, broken and shattered, never to be recovered. The snake wished that this physiology would allow for sighing; that was a question that could also never be answered.

“Now you know the secret, little snake. And that’s why I won’t name you, even if that astrologer tells me I should. Because you should have your own name, little snake. One that you choose for yourself. Not just one that someone changes on a whim or because he could or because he won a horse race, even if it was at Olympia.”

Crawly nodded emphatically, or as best as a snake could.

“You’re a very good listener. I would hold you if I dared, but I do not. After all, a tame viper is still a viper and I have too much work of my own to do without testing how strong your venom is. They say you can strengthen yourself against the poison with a little snake, but I don’t need any more poison in my life. Besides, all my snakes are not dangerous. Except for you.”

Crawly hissed in agreement.

“It’s too bad we can’t have a conversation properly. I wish I could know what you would have to say. Oh, but you are my guest here, where are my manners? All this time we’ve been conversing and I haven’t offered you any refreshments. Would you like some milk? A little mouse? Or a lizard? Or perhaps an offering of wine; the Dionysia is coming soon and along with it all the tragedies. You’ll come with me, won’t you? We’ll celebrate together, and then afterwards...well, we’ll see when the time comes what to do with you afterwards…”

x

#good omens #crowley #demon crowley #snake crowley #crawly the snake #mistakes were made #olympias mother of alexander the great #snake library #snibrary

[kogo-dogo]

TES Summerfest Day 1 - DREAMS

Brushing off the dust after a super long hiatus and getting back into the swing of things by Making Myself Do a Daily Challenge Thing. So, here's to reviving my prehistoric Morrowind OCs in the name of gearing up to maybe actually rewriting that monster fanfic I wrote fourteen years ago.

Day 1: Dreams

---

The sky was as gray as his fur, and the sea a deep, wine black that was strangely placid in the advent of a storm. Waves softly lapped up against the stone dock, mist splashing against his bare feet and seeping between his toes. A distinct odor--like salt and ash--permeated the air as a cool, gentle breeze rolled in from the furthest reaches of the water. Karsaga’s ears flattened against the back of his head, his nose twitching in confusion. For a dream, this was all very vivid.

Vivid and yet hazy, if such a thing existed. The light was bleached white, colorless, giving everything a muted feeling, like being stuck in eternal twilight. When he clenched his fists, he could feel his claws digging into his palms, something he knew shouldn’t have happened if this were all simply a figment of his imagination. Where else could he have been, though? He fell asleep in a dingy bed in a flea-ridden Ald’ruhn inn, and it wasn’t like he could sleepwalk all the way to the Sea of Ghosts without anyone noticing.

Right?

Well, now that he thought of it, there was that one time…

Karsaga shook his head. He sighed, raking a hand through his mane, and decided that where he was didn’t particularly matter at this point. He was somewhere, and he was alive, and it most likely was just a bizarre, lucid dream he was having after weeks upon weeks of anxiety and oddities. This was just a combination of too much greef and a desire to go home, back where things were simple and his mind wasn’t always at war with him.

Back in Rathendis Falls, there was no Caius Cosades. There were no Blades. He wasn’t an operative of the Emperor, and these gods-damned cults Caius was so interested in didn’t exist. Nightmares of mer in golden masks didn’t wake him up at all hours, and an omnipresent feeling of deja vu didn’t make his skin tingle every time he went somewhere “new.” There was no song playing on the wind, no talk of prophecy, no irritable natives who made him feel small for the first time in his life. No nagging feeling of betrayal when house mer and Ashlanders talked to him like he was less than trash, like he somehow knew they should know who he was and appreciate him.

There was no talk of Nerevar. There were no memories of Nerevar. Nerevar was just a name in a book he would never read. The Nerevarine was somebody else’s problem.

Karsaga closed his eyes, letting the wind flow around him, tickling his whiskers and mussing up his fur. Just the thought of the predicament he found himself in made his muscles painfully tighten, his jaw clenching so hard that he could feel his teeth cracking under the pressure.

“You look lost.”

Somehow, Karsaga knew he wouldn’t be alone. That’s never how it was in these sorts of dreams. Calmly opening his eyes, he turned over his shoulder with a grunt to regard who was coming up behind him on the dock. It took a moment for his eyes to focus--or, perhaps, considering how strange this place was, for the person to focus--but the figure was distinctly mer. No tail, no snout, and proportioned so he knew them to be inhuman; there were no other options. No man-race had features that fine.

“Oh. It’s you.”

The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he was perplexed as to where they came from. While he had no idea who it was, he did sense some kind of familiarity with them. This is definitely someone that he  should have known. Dream logic, he supposed. Dreams had a habit of making you do and say and feel things that made no sense.

As the figure strayed better into view, the details became clearer: a gold-skinned elf with a shaggy, unkempt row of hair that was already well into the process of collapsing. They weren’t an Altmer, not quite, being a far more deep golden color than any High Elf he’d ever seen. Rings and emblems dangled from his ears, and he wore pieces of chitin and leather that had been gilded with cracking gold leaf.

He was handsome, but exhausted. Scarred. Distracted. There was a faraway look in his eyes as he turned his gaze toward the sea, staring off into the distance like there was something there to see aside from the black waves rolling in.

Karsaga crossed his arms. The feeling of familiarity never faded. It was infuriating.

“You come here a lot,” the mer chuckled humorlessly. 

“Oh, do I?”

“As often as I do. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that we were of like minds.”

There was something knowing in the mer’s voice, which Karsaga didn’t like but piqued his curiosity. His eyes narrowed as he let out an angry huff and turned away, ignoring the elf as he slipped closer to his side. After all the weird nightmares, all the utter bullshit he'd had thrown onto his plate, he'd had enough. One more enigmatic dream that left him feeling confused and unrested was the last thing he needed.

Being obviously annoyed didn’t deter the stranger, though. Soon, he was sidled up right next to him, folding his arms over his chest as if to mimic his exact pose.

“How lost are you?” the elf asked. He sounded concerned. Karsaga inhaled sharply as he tried to will his irritation away. Something told him that being angry wasn’t how he was supposed to handle this situation. 

“I don’t know if ‘lost’ is the right word,” he responded after a long pause. “I’m frustrated.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

It was a juvenile response, but honest. To the mer’s credit, he seemed to understand. A small smile tugged at the end of his lips as he uttered an insincere laugh and nodded knowingly. It was a sentiment he shared, apparently.

“So it goes,” the mer answered. “But, I’d posit that I know your frustrations rather well. We seem very alike.”

Again, his voice took on an air of knowing that made Karsaga’s skin crawl. 

“If I had to guess,” the mer sighed, “you’ve found yourself in a situation that is making you question who and what you are. You walk into places and they’re not how you remember them, though they’re places you’ve never been. You know names and faces and don’t know why. Your stomach sinks when you hear certain words, but you don’t even know what those words mean. It’s all so familiar and right at the tip of your tongue, but there’s nothing for you to say.”

Karsaga’s brows furrowed even as his heart leaped into his throat. The mer smirked and shot a playful glance at him, before breaking into a grin and inhaling deep. He had a lot more to say.

“You’ve been dragged into something you don’t want to be a part of, something far bigger than yourself, and you know and don’t know what you’re supposed to do, how you’re supposed to handle yourself, where you’re supposed to go. It feels like everyone knows something you don’t. It feels like there is some reserve of memories to work from, buried deep in the back of your mind, that would make it a whole lot easier to do this insurmountable task. And, in a way, you wonder if this task is one you should be doing at all.”

A pause. The two regarded each other quietly, one far more amused than the other.

“Does this ring a bell, Karsaga?”

“It doesn’t just ring the bell. It rattles the whole damn cathedral,” Karsaga drawled in response. He wanted to be angry, but something in his mind was clicking into place and he could feel it. Deep down in his gut, his instincts told him to be quiet. To listen. To stifle the rage bubbling inside of him, and the paranoia blossoming in his heart.

“Well, we’re of like minds, you and I. And maybe one day, hopefully soon, you’ll realize just how like we are. Because I, too, feel lost. As if there is a world beyond what I can see, yet it affects me all the same. Sights and sounds and people. Sensations. Things that are new and foreign and terrifying, that have changed so much and yet not enough. And I don’t know which is worse: that I do not recognize this world, or that everything I hated about it remains intact. Untouched. Glorified, even.”

Silence. The mer’s gaze once more grew far away as he seemed to become lost in the sight of the sea and the storm. There was a heaviness in his lack of words, something that laid in Karsaga’s stomach like a stone and sat there, unmoving. All of his anger was gone, dissipated, replaced only with a feeling of knowing, understanding. He suddenly knew he had kinship with this mer, even if he didn’t quite know how. It was on the tip of his tongue, words he could not get out. 

“We didn’t die for this outcome,” the mer quietly said. “Everything is wrong. Broken. It has to be fixed.”

Without thought, Karsaga nodded. He understood, even if he didn’t. He knew that the mer was right, even if he had no idea what it was he was talking about.

“It will be difficult, but things must be set right once more,” he continued. “So, I am begging you to not give up. As I am, on this dock talking to myself, I cannot offer much help. But, if you stay on your path, frustrating as it is, so shall I. And one day, when all is aligned correctly…”

“... We’ll not find ourselves here anymore,” Karsaga finished. “Everything will make sense.”

The mer smiled and elbowed him, a gentle gesture of camaraderie that made Karsaga raise an eyebrow. Yet, the frustration was long gone, dead embers in a dead fire. More than anything, he was just confused how he had known what to say, how to respond. Why this mer just kept feeling more and more familiar the longer he stared, as if he was gazing at his own reflection.

But before he could ask, the mer turned. Arms still folded, he began to walk into the mists behind him, growing paler and fuzzier the further away he wandered. While Karsaga wanted to yell after him, to demand answers, his voice died in his throat. His brain and his instincts warred with one another, until the only thing that came out of his mouth was the choked and pitiful noise.

Before the mer vanished for good, however, he glanced over his shoulder. It was as though the sound of the khajiit gagging on his own words gave him pause. Smiling the faintest hint of a smile, he pushed a bit of his hair out of his face and laughed. It bounced around the silence of the shore as a haunting echo.

“Do you know who I am?” the mer asked. 

Karsaga slammed his mouth shut. His brows furrowed, his nose wrinkled. His head tilted and he struggled, really fought to remember something nagging at the back of his mind. Yet, when he finally found his words, the only thing that came out was a dead-certain, “Almost.”

“That is better than I was expecting.”

And with that, the mer was gone. 

Karsaga was alone, with the wine black sea lapping at the shore.

#I'M TRYING TO WRITE AGAIN BY GOD #morrowind #elder scrolls #just fuck me up i guess i'm writing my nerevarine for a week #stupid bastard #tesfest22 #tes

[lesbianstarlightglimmer]

welp i have forgotten to mentally prepare myself for the new chapter of LFLS that dropped today so im going in like KABOOM

#i will always remain unintelligible. goodnight #meows #today went by so quickly except when i was at work. it wasnt AS busy ig but still bad to the point i didnt go to break til almost 2 #hours before i was supposed to get off. oh but my twilight figure came in on time! now i just gotta hunt down AJ..... #unfortunately i didnt get to open the figure til forever later bc ofc AS SOON AS i pulled in my gparents showed up :))))) #so i had to sit there sticky and tired in my uniform until they left an hour later! but at least we got to watch the peanuts special #AND the donald duck one w the witch tho its one of those that makes donald look like an asshole. but seeing HDL made me smile #then we carved the pumpkin ate hotdogs and my brothers wanted to watch coco which is hmm not the best on halloween #but its still a good movie but god the songs are so much better in spanish but especially remember me it makes me cry #more than the english version. and the acnh event was fun but i kinda finished it in less than...30 minutes MAYBE? #like legit got all the items got the reactions gave everyone outside candy TWICE and that was it...? kinda miss the exhilaration #id get in NL when theyd chase you tf down and forcefully talk to you. this one they just dance around and hope you talk to em #but it was cute caroline bluebear and chevre were all just in the town square scaring each other back and forth #while. you know. being too cute to be scary. ANYWAYS im gonna read the new chapter and try to keep myself from arting

[wkemeup]

Sunrise (3)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 5.2k warnings: none 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

Bucky stared down at the fresh coffee stained on the sidewalk; a caramel puddle nestling into the cracks and stretching along the lines until it spilled out into the street. He could smell the bitterness and the sweetness in the cream, the steam of it still warm as it filtered up into the cold, autumn air. He cursed at himself under his breath.  

You’d looked so beautiful, even with your eyes wide in shock and lips parted in a gasp as coffee spilled to your shoes. Dressed under an army green overcoat, a sliver of a burnt orange sweater peaked out from underneath. He’d seen that particular shade before, cast over a forest of evergreens and reflecting into the clouds, just above the sun as it set over the tree line.  

But he’d made a fool of himself in front of you and he could still feel the burning in his ears. He felt hot under his jacket and he found himself glancing down the street, wondering if he could make a run for it. Only, you were waiting for him inside and Bucky couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing you.

Gathering what remained of his courage, Bucky parted the double doors and stepped inside. It took a minute to let his eyes adjust, but when the dim lighting came into view, he noticed you were standing by the entrance waiting for him like you’d known he’d decide to follow. You beamed as he caught sight of you and his stomach twisted straight to knots. You were still clutching the donut box to your chest, almost as if you were afraid he’d knock that out of your hands, too.  

“Come on, you can help me set up.” You gestured down the hall to the room he met you in a few days prior. The library with no books on the shelves and cobwebs in the corners. “We’ve got to get you a book before the others show up.”

Bucky nodded, though he didn’t say anything as he followed you. It was pretty quiet without so many people lingering around, but everyone seemed to smile as you approached; perking up from under their clouds and called out your name until you waved back at them. It was like you carried sunshine in your pockets and comfort in your presence, breaking away stormy skies as you passed by.  

Before you could reach the library door, Bucky rushed out ahead of you and grabbed a hold of the knob. You paused, eyes catching his for a moment and a pink filtered into his cheeks. He cleared his throat.  

“Figured I could do one decent thing today after I ruined your shoes,” he explained, pulling open the door for you.  

“You showed up, didn’t you?” you added with a wink. “I count two decent things today, James Barnes.”

He chuckled at that, nodding. “Y-Yeah, okay.”  

You set the donuts on the coffee table and began to push the furniture around into a circle. You shouldered most of your weight into the couch to get it to budge and Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips just watching you. Concentrated frown on your face, determination in your eyes, staring down the couch as if it were your sworn enemy.  

“You need help with that?” Bucky asked, gesturing to the couch that barely moved a few inches while you were out of breath.  

You glanced up at him over the spine of the couch, nodding gratefully. “This one always gives me trouble.”

“I’m sure if you waited for the others to show up, they’d help you move these around,” Bucky said as he placed his right hand on the back of the armrest, his knee digging into the center of the back. You stood next to him, hands on the frame to help push despite the fact that Bucky was strong enough, even without his left arm, to move the couch on his own. But he liked the idea of you beside him, so he didn’t say anything.  

“Oh, I’m sure they would,” you exhaled as they couch slid perfectly into place within the circle. “They all work so hard though, you know? It’s nice to have them just walk in and sit down for a change. Don’t need them thinking I’m expecting work out of them, too.”

“Ah, so that's why I’m here, then...”  

He was surprised by the teasing in his own voice. When was the last time he made a joke? He couldn’t even remember. But you started to smile, that brightness shining right up into your eyes, and it didn’t matter anymore. He’d make a thousand jokes if you would keep looking at him like that.  

“Careful now,” you warned, a glimmer in your eye. “I might need you to help move this couch every week...”

“Wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”  

He didn’t know where this was coming from or how it slipped off his tongue so easily, but he liked the way it seemed to catch your off guard. You stilled for a second, a nervous laugh under your breath as you quickly tucked away a few strands of fallen hair. You were flustered. Shit. He was done for.  

“Haven't even seen one meeting and you’re offering to move couches for me on a weekly basis? Consider me eternally grateful, James Barnes.” You plopped down on the couch, reaching for the strap of your bag, though it was a few inches out of reach.  

Bucky leaned down and picked up the bag, surprised to find it as heavy as it was, and gently set it in your lap. He took a seat on the couch on your left, though he left considerable room between you. You started digging through the bag, pulling out book after book and setting them on the table.  

“We’ve got to pick your book of choice,” you explained, smiling at him and clearly eager to see what he would select. “Anything you want. I can get something else from the library for next week if you’re not interested in these. I’ve got some guys reading Harry Potter for the first time. Lang’s on the second Twilight book. Romanoff is halfway through The Odyssey. Barton’s about a few pages to the end of a murder mystery he guessed the plot twist of within the first ten pages, which is just downright infuriating...”

Your nose was all scrunched up and it was the damn near cutest thing Bucky had ever seen. He must have been staring for too long though, because you raised a brow at him.  

Bucky cleared this throat, quickly looking away. He scratched nervously at the back of his neck and tried to steer the conversation strictly away from how adorable he found you.  

“Isn’t the point of a book club to read the same book?”

“I suppose,” you shrugged, “but not my book club. The whole point is just to help these guys feel comfortable, give them a moment of peace, even if it’s for an hour once a week. Sometimes we’ll sit around the circle and talk about what we’re reading. Lang’s working really hard to sell the Twilight books to the rest of the group despite being about a decade late to the game. Most times though, we just read, listen to some music. It’s quite nice, actually.”

So that was what Sam meant by unconventional.

“I don’t know the last time I read anything,” Bucky admitted slowly. He could barely get himself to concentrate on a single newspaper article these days, let alone an entire book. He often caught himself staring at the TV and realizing an episode later that he didn’t have a clue what had happened.  

“A lot of the guys take breaks,” you offered, seemingly reading his mind. “That’s what the donuts are for. Oh, and the coffee, of course.”

You jumped up, making your way over to the pots sitting on the table lining the wall. The pots were already filled and he wondered who took the time to do that for you before you even arrived. You were so well liked around here, Bucky found himself wondering if he wasn’t the only one who felt like you could tell him to do just about anything and he’d oblige without question.

“You want some?” you asked, holding up an empty cup, but Bucky shook his head. He was already starting to get warm and adding coffee to the mix wouldn’t help things.  

You didn’t seem to mind as you shrugged off your jacket and draped it by the door. The orange sweater he’d caught a glimpse of under your jacket turned out to be a cardigan. It flowed long down by your thighs, draped over a simple, white tank top and black jeans. Gold jewelry sat over your collarbone and you had a sudden glow about you, like that hour just before sunset.

Golden hour, he realized. That’s what you reminded him of.  

“It’s warm in here, isn’t it?” you asked, fanning yourself as you set the coffee on the table. “It’s not just me?”

It’s definitely you, Bucky thought. He’d never met anyone who carried such a presence as to melt the icy cold shards planted defensively around his chest. You were the epitome of warmth and kindness and the sweetest damn thing he’d ever seen... but a trail of sweat lined his hairline and he could feel the heat trapped under his jacket.  

“Not you,” Bucky confirmed, brushing at his brow. “It’s hot.”

“Here,” you stood up, holding out a hand to him, “I can take your jacket for you.”

Bucky froze, jaw clenched. He became painfully aware of the empty sleeve on his left side. He wasn’t a complete fool. He knew you must have noticed by now, but taking the jacket off made it obvious that a piece of him was missing, the stub at his shoulder the only thing left in place of an arm he could still feel most days.  

“I’m, uh, I’m okay,” he stuttered out, his eyes falling to the ground, hoping you didn’t notice the flush in his cheeks. He could feel your eyes on him and he was almost certain that if he dared to look up at you, you’d be fixated on his empty sleeve.  

Shame started to burn hot in his chest when suddenly he felt a cool breeze on the back of his neck. When he looked in search of you, he found you setting up a fan at the edge of the room, angling it just enough so that it was sure to reach him on every rotation.  

He swallowed as he watched you. You didn’t ask questions or push him to take the jacket off despite being clearly too warm to keep it on. Instead, you offered him a short smile as you sat back on the couch beside him, a little closer this time.  

“Any better?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’s, uh, that's really nice. Thanks.”

You smiled for him and he wondered if he could stay inside that moment forever.  

***

Bucky selected The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Gilman from the stack of books on the table. It surprised you as his hand ghosted over the cover before flipping it over in his palm, a curious look on his features. It was one of your favorites, one not many would choose to pick up in fear of the publishing date in the late 1800s, but it was a short story, one he could finish within the span of the meeting today.  

As he stared down at the unusual yellow pattern on the cover, a frown pushed at his lips as he started to see the strange images hidden under the surface. You found yourself struggling to tear your gaze away from him. With such a reaction to the cover, you couldn’t wait for the end of the meeting just to hear what he thought of the story.  

Soon, the usuals started filtering into the room and you noticed that Bucky had barely said a word as the low hum of small talk and chatter filled the empty space. He kept to himself, perched on the very edge of the couch cushion like he might run at any second as you talked with one of the oldest VA members by the door.  

Upon sensing his discomfort, you quickly made your way back to the couch and you were surprised when you felt the cushion dip a little as he leaned in your direction as if he was using you as anchor; something familiar amongst an unknown. You tried to suppress a smile when he looked at you, but you really liked the idea of being something familiar to him.  

“I’m glad you decided to stay,” you told him quietly, nudging his side playfully with your shoulder. It drew a soft laugh from under his breath and he nodded, gripping tight to the book.  

“Yeah, me too.” He sank back into the couch and relaxed the tension in his body.  

Six on the dot. You turned to the group.  

Tony Stark sat in his usual throne, legs draped over the arm rest, sitting sprawled out over the single chair. Heir to Stark Industries, he’d enlisted himself in rebellion against his own father. He’d ended up in the Air Force for three tours and prided himself on the tattoo on his chest he’d gotten drunkenly off base in his early twenties.  

Natasha Romanoff found her place sitting cross legged on the floor, leaning up against the seat of Tony’s chair. She was a sort of a mystery to you, never spoke a word about her position within the military and how long she served, but she was exceptionally perceptive. Part of you wondered if she was some sort of super spy. Despite becoming a close friend, there was still so little you knew about her history. She rested a pillow in her lap.

Then, there was Scott Lang. He’d found himself in some trouble after his discharge, but he was turning his life around. He had a little girl to stick around for and he was trying desperately to find a job. You suspected his fascination with the Twilight books stemmed more from an unbreakable bond with his daughter than anything else. He took his place on the bean bag chair.  

Clint Barton sat on the table outside the circle. He was a sharp shooter in his time and found more comfort in the distance. He kept to himself and had an exceptionally entertaining habit of making quick remarks under his breath few were fortunate to hear. You were determined to hand him a book with a plot twist not even he could see coming. You resided to put Defending Jacob by William Landay on hold.  

A few others filled out the circle; familiar faces of men and women most would look past on the streets. Dark circles under their eyes, a hardened look about them. Some with tattoos and long beards, other’s draped in leather. Some, you could see the ghost of their former selves in their eyes, but they all seemed to lighten as they sat around the circle.  

A moment of peace. It’s all you could offer and they took it gladly.  

“Hey everyone. We’ve got a newbie in today.” You gestured to Bucky and he slowly lifted his hand in an awkward wave. “This is Bucky. Bucky, this is the group. Play nice.”

“What’s your rank, soldier?” Tony quipped from his chair; legs kicked out over the side. He never had much of a filter, or a sense of restraint. You shot him a glare he didn’t seem to notice, or rather he didn’t care.  

“Sergeant,” Bucky clarified, though you could hear the strain in his voice. He said it as though it burned him, like the very act of the title was painful just to speak.  

“Where’d you serve?”

“Tony, we’re not grilling the new kid today,” you warned, but Bucky cleared his throat.

“Afghanistan mostly.” He curled his hand into a fist, pinching at the pages of The Yellow Wallpaper in his grip. A hardness had swept over most of his features, almost in a protective layer, and you wanted to whack Tony upside the head for stealing the soft undertones in his expression.  

“And the rest?”

Bucky paused, releasing his fist. “Classified.”  

Tony pursed his lips, staring Bucky down over the top lens of his thick rimmed glasses. A testament of wills. A challenge. Then, he nodded, satisfied.  

“Great,” you groaned, rolling your eyes playfully. “Now that Tony here has finished interrogating our newest member, we can get started.”

“Hey, consider it my welcome to the group!” Tony hands thrown defensively in the air. Scott nodded from his couch, remembering his own initiation the day Tony demanded to know the extent of his robbery charges following his discharge.  

You shook your head, smiling spreading back to your lips and you were thankful to find that Bucky had sat back into the couch, relaxing as the attention moved back to you.  

“I think we’ll just spend today reading,” you said. “I’ll put on the playlist Tony recommended – and don’t worry, I did browse through to make sure he didn’t slip any rock anthems in again. We don’t need to give Dr. Selvig down the hall another heart attack when Back in Black starts blaring directly after Yiruma.”

The room laughed and you were purposeful in glancing over at Bucky to see if a smile caught on his lips. It was small, a little uncomfortable as his eyes flickered around the room at the other group members, but he seemed to soften as he landed on you again. You nodded at him.  

“Alright kids, hush up now.” You pressed play and the gentle strokes of a piano began to fill the room. “I’ll wake you in an hour.”

You waited until everyone settled in and opened their books. One of the older gentlemen in the back with a long and burly white beard and a leather vest draped over his shoulders set the open novel on his chest and promptly closed his eyes for his weekly nap. You smiled to yourself as you watched the heavy rise and fall of his chest – the man deserved one decent hour of rest a week, anyway.  

By the time you made your way back to the couch, you noticed Bucky had tensed up again. He was staring down at the book, harsh breaths pressing through his nose as he tried to keep the book propped open with on hand, losing his place as he tried to turn the page. His jaw was clenched so tight you wondered if he’d bite it clean off.  

He didn’t dare ask for help or so much as look in your direction, but it was a determination you’d come to expect from the people you met in these halls. It didn’t mean you couldn’t offer it anyway.  

You quietly opened a drawer at the edge of the room, pushing aside knick knacks and old ketchup packets until you came across a small wooden clip. One of the older members had used it when he was going through extensive PT for his hand and couldn’t pinch his fingers enough to grip the thin slip of the page. You pulled it from the drawer and quickly skirted your way back to the couch beside Bucky.

“Here,” you offered, extending the clip to him as the book fell closed on his lap for the fourth time. He looked up at you, confused. You wondered if he realized how cute he looked when his brows pinched together like that; made him look about ten years younger and wiped the evidence of the war clean off his face.  

You smiled at him. “It holds the pages down for you. Look.”

Gently pulling the book from his lip, you opened to the first page and set the clip at the bottom of the binding. When you released it, the pages stayed open, giving him free range of motion to turn the page without losing his place.  

He blinked a few times as he stared down at the book. It was clear he’d never considered a tool like this and you wondered how many times he had sat down with the intention of reading only to find he couldn’t even turn past the first page. He might have been able to figure out the skill in it if he’d had the patience, but you imagined his own frustration got in the way of that. He seemed to have little patience for himself, as soldiers returning home often did. 

There was a brief moment when the tips of his fingers brushed over yours as you pulled away. His hands were warm, almost feverish in comparison to the chill in your own. A blush warmed his cheeks and his eyes quickly darted down to the pages. Your stomach was in pleasant knots.  

“Thanks,” he replied quietly, a soft semblance of a smile rising sweetly at the edges of his lips.  

You nodded, settling in on the couch beside him and pulling your own book up into your lap. You listened to the gentle strokes of the piano carrying softly through the room until a page turned on your left and then, you let yourself sink into the bindings of the book perched upon your lap.  

***

“So! What did you think?!”

It was the first thing you said as the final group member exited the room. Barely even a footstep out the door and you were already anxiously awaiting his reaction. Bucky was busy pushing the couch back into its original position and he glanced back at you to see you biting nervously on your lip, hands wringing out in front of you. You were swaying onto your tip toes like a kid hyped up on sugar. It was the cutest damn thing he’d ever seen.  

“It was... a little creepy at the end?” Bucky chuckled, glancing down at The Yellow Wallpaper as it sat on the coffee table. “The woman went completely mad.”

You nodded vigorously, the smile on your face beaming and he had to watch himself to keep from mirroring your excitement.  

"It’s a critique on how women’s mental health was perceived in the nineteenth century!” you explained with that giddy look on your face, reaching down for the book and flipping the pages through your fingers, the soft brush of wrinkled paper touching over each thumbprint. “Women were believed to be weak minded and frail, unable to handle more than two hours of mental stimulation. The woman in the story was prescribed ‘rest’ by her physician to treat her depression, essentially restricting her to little more than staring at the walls.”  

You rolled your eyes, groaning dramatically, and drawing a smile to Bucky’s face that ached into his cheeks. “Slowly, it drove her to seek stimulation in impossible places, like the image of a woman she saw in the wallpaper! By the end of the story, that’s who she became. Wild, right?”

You shook your head, seemingly lost in astonishment. There was a slight crinkle in your nose when you smiled that wide, Bucky realized, like even the features on your face couldn’t hope to contain the joy bursting from your smile. Radiated like the fucking sun. Bucky was helpless in his stance, frozen, as he listened to you.  

“You know the author once said, ‘it’s not intended to drive people crazy, but to save people from being driven crazy,’” you continued, setting the book down with such a gentle touch, almost as if it were a living, breathing thing. You handled it with such care and Bucky began to wonder if you’d ever touch him like that – if he was worth such tenderness.  

The thought startled him and he quickly swallowed it back. Jaw clenched, right hand pressed to a fist in the pocket of his jacket. Stone cold expression. And yet – you were still talking about that book, all starry eyed and adorable, and a smile managed to crack through his lips. It was his new favorite book, he decided. Whatever could make you smile like that was his favorite. He’d sit there and read the fucking phone book if you asked him to.  

“She wrote it in retaliation of her own experience of a physician disregarding her depression. It's actually quite remarkable when you think about it. It's one of the earliest American Feminist works of it’s– ” You froze suddenly, hand clamping over your mouth. You winced at him, slowly pealing your palm away. “Oh God, I’m rambling. I tend to get a little excited about these things... You must be so bored right now.”

Bucky couldn’t help the smile as it rose in his cheeks. He liked seeing you so flustered, caught up in a passion he so rarely saw these days. He didn’t know the last time he cared about anything as much as you cared for books. He could have easily listened to you talk like that for hours without interruption.  

“No, no, not bored at all,” he reassured you and you visibly relaxed, relief sweeping through your shoulders. You started to fold up the chairs when Bucky cleared his throat, drawing your attention back. “I, uh, I did like the story, though. Has a lot of relevance today. I see why you like it.”

If he thought you were going to burst before, he should have waited to see how you were looking at him now. Chewing on the inside of your cheek in hopes of suppressing it, though it clearly did little use.  You planted your hands on your hips.  

“Watch what you say, Barnes. I’ll talk your ear off.”

Bucky shrugged. “I’m already down an arm, what’s an ear, too?”

The second the words left his lips, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head; drenching his clothes, goosebumps on his ice, sinking into his veins and freezing him to stone. He woken up from a pleasant dream by the harsh ringing of an alarm. He'd been pushed off a cliff, stomach churning in the freefall.  

You knew. Obviously, you knew.  

You weren’t blind and he was certain you could tell there was a startling absence where his left arm should be, even with the poorly camouflaged sleeve hanging off his side. It wasn’t fooling strangers on the street and it certainly didn’t fool you either, even if it gave him an ounce of peace, like maybe he could pretend he was whole again.

But you’d brought him that book clip for a reason.  

You knew.  

At yet, this was the first time he mentioned it aloud. Actually said the words. Drew attention to the fact that he was a broken mess of who he used to be and now he was waiting for you to flinch, for the familiar shades of pity and embarrassment to cloud over your starry eyes, but he waited and waited and – it never came.  

Instead, you started to laugh.  

It filled the room and washed away whatever panic was surging inside of him within a matter of seconds. The most beautiful sound he’d ever heard and he wished you didn’t shield your hand over your lips in an effort to contain it because – God – he could have spent his whole life sitting in that moment. Tears in your eyes, a smile on your face, looking at him like he was the man he was before the war, like he was something worth looking at.  

“You’re funny, James Barnes,” you said after you caught your breath again, a whisper of a laugh still lingering in your voice. You brushed the tears from your eyes.  

Bucky’s chest felt instantly lighter. His right hand was swinging down at his side and he brought it up to his hair to brush it from his face.  

“I could use a new book for next week,” he started, a little surprised at himself, and judging by the look in your eyes, it surprised you too. But you were smiling at him and it gave him the courage to continue. “Thought maybe you could help me find something?”

“Really?” you asked, practically glowing. “You’ll come back next week?”

He’d do anything if you kept looking at him like that.  

“Yeah,” was all he said, but you looked as though he told you he’d just told you he won the lottery. Maybe he had.  

“Well then, I’d be happy to! Just, um, hold on a second,” you scrambled around the room, looking for a pen and paper. You clicked a pen a few times before doodling in the corner to get the ink moving. When you were finished, you handed it to him. “These are my hours at the library. Come by anytime, okay? If I’m not up front, ask Mrs. Jefferson to page me. She’ll know who you are.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, staring down at the scribbled numbers. Did you talk about him at work? Butterflies swarmed in his stomach at the thought. He wondered what kinds of things you would say about him.  

“Walk me out?” you asked, grabbing your coat from the rack and gesturing to the door. Bucky looked up, not even realizing the room was already set back in its original formation, the empty box of donuts discarded.  

He nodded, following you to the door.  

“You know, I’m really happy you decided to come today,” you said as you passed into the hallway. Bucky kept an even pace at your side and tried not to let the butterflies in his stomach escape to where you could see.  

“Almost didn’t,” he admitted with a tired chuckle.  

“Figured by the staring contest you were having with the building before the coffee incident.”

Bucky winced, but you were smiling as he looked over at you and he felt the tension slip from his muscles instantly. “I am sorry about that...”

“Maybe you can just owe me a coffee,” you suggested casually, as if the prospect of spending time together, just the two of you didn’t make the butterflies crawl a little further up into his chest. “A real one. Not the shitty stuff we serve at the VA.”

Bucky swallowed, pushing the creatures back into his stomach. His throat was dry. “I can do that.”  

He pictured sitting across from you at a café, watching your hands curl around the outside of a mug, the steam of it brushing on your nose. Glistening in the reflection of the sunlight peaking through the windows, draped in the glow of the sunset. He’d buy you a thousand coffees.  

“Okay, well, I’ll see you soon then?”

Bucky looked around and realized suddenly that he was standing outside. The cold breeze had turned into a frigid autumn chill with the sun nearly set behind the skyline. Peaks of orange remained at the horizon, mimicking the colors in your sweater. When he looked down, he could still see the stain of coffee on the sidewalk.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, determined to push past whatever doubt etched into his way. It faded in an instant as he saw your lips curve up high into your cheeks. “I’ll see you soon.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you

[qslovebot]

Midnight Escapade: Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer Reid and the reader have been crushing on each other since they met, but neither of them cared to admit it. When doubled up in a hotel room for the night, reader tries to convince Spencer to go with her at 12:30am to get frozen yogurt to cheer him up and it turns into much more than a snack run.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: Swearing, mutual pining (a long time of pining leads up to this fic), food, mention of Sept 11, 2001, self-doubt, fluff, kissing

Word Count: 4533

The case was solved, closed, and finally, your eyes could rest. The case you had just finished was particularly stressful to not only you, but your fellow BAU members as well. You all hadn't slept for nearly twenty-nine hours and Hotch decided it was best you all got the rest you deserved at a nearby hotel.

The ride there, you struggled to keep your eyes open, but Spencer Reid was on another greatly interesting rant about a show he liked, so you figured you would try to stay awake to hear it. You always listened to him because a lot of the time, the rest of the team dismissed him and his oddly accurate monologues. They grew tired of Spencer talking so much about things they didn't understand but you were rather the opposite- and that's probably because you liked Spencer so much.

The two of you met when he was introduced to the BAU. Praised for his mind, he introduced himself to you with a shaky voice and a meek handshake. You instantly admired him from his geeky personality outwards to his tall, thin self with a face sculpted by artists. Little did you know he did the same, but immediately thought of you as out of his league, so he stayed quiet.

You had been friends since then, pairing up on cases as your minds seemed to work like a perfectly oiled machine when together. Like Penelope and Derek, you two were known for the science jokes no one understood and shared looks of adoration that the both of you somehow didn't recognize as romantic. But everyone else saw it.

Derek Morgan teased a lot. He talked to Reid about working with the 'pretty girl' every day, poking him in the side and messing with his hair. The geek and the girl who was smart as hell, but didn't make it her dominant trait.

A doctor and the outgoing agent who matched the loudness of Penelope Garcia at times at karaoke night. You brought more liveliness to the BAU- more music, more spinning, more levity in dark cases. Spencer was always trying to hide a smile when you walked in, trying to pretend he hadn't been waiting for you to bring him coffee each morning. You didn't need an eidetic memory to remember his order and that, for some reason, always sent him over the moon.

But you were here now, listening to him wrap up his story as you fought the sleep that was looming over you as the car came to a stop outside the hotel.

"-And that was the end of it all. I think it's so fascinating how they wrapped everything up into this intricate timeline of interactions and moments and backtracks. We should, uh, watch it sometime." He said as he hopped out of the back, holding his small bag and yours.

You sleepily hopped out after him, hoping you didn't look like you felt, because you truly felt like hell. "Yeah, I'd like that," was all you could really mumble out. He passed you your bag and you smiled your thank you.

Emily held you up by the shoulders as Hotch sent through the check-in information. "Some case, huh?" She laughed as you rubbed your left eye. "I suppose we can't make this a girl's night of post-case celebration if you're dead asleep."

You groaned, "You wanted to do that? Damn it, Em, I'm sorry-"

"You need beauty sleep, (Y/N). I'm not mad or anything, I'll just take a bath and pull out an adult romance novel." A smirk played on her lips as she raised her eyebrows. You chuckled tiredly. "Seriously, no worries."

"Did I hear talk of a romance novel?" Derek shuffled over. "Which one are we reading? 50 Shades of Grey?"

Spencer stepped in, "Did you know that 50 Shades of Grey is actually fanfiction written about Stephanie Meyer's Twilight Saga? If you go further back, Stephanie started Twilight as written alternate universe fanfiction where the emo-slash-hardcore band My Chemical Romance were all vampires. But My Chemical Romance was started by musician and comic book creator- who published a series of comics called The Umbrella Academy in 2008, unrelated, his name was - Gerard Way, who created the band to make music that expressed the trauma he was given from witnessing the twin towers falling on September 11th, 2001."

Emily looked at him, jaw open. "So Nine-Eleven essentially created a badly-written and toxic sex novel, years later?"

Spencer nodded, eyes flickering to you for a brief moment. Derek grinned at Emily, "So you have read 50 Shades of Grey, huh?" He teased. She swat at his wiggly fingers away as Hotch walked over, brow furrowed.

"Rooms need to be doubled up tonight. Morgan, you can come with me. As much as you may hate it, I feel like (Y/L/N) here might collapse on the spot, so we can't go anywhere else." He handed Spencer and Emily a key, expecting them to make their own choices. Of course, Emily knew exactly what she needed to do when Hotch walked off. You were about to turn and go with her, but she bolted off, reaching for JJ.

You looked up at Spencer Reid who had his mouth in a shy, straight-lipped smile. You both knew what this meant, but you were glad you'd get to crash somewhere, floor or not. The room was on the fifth floor, so you took the elevator with Spencer in silence that you were sure he was granting you until you reached the door of your room.

"I will... take the floor tonight," he said, sticking the key in the lock. "You're tired and I'm just going to get dinner and um... read."

His watch read 4:34 pm- it was so much earlier than you had thought, but you were almost collapsing. "I'm sorry," were the last words you could reply with before you walked into the room, got into the bed, and you were out, cold.

You had never had such a fulfilling sleep. You woke up feeling clean, fresh, renewed and restored. There was no groggy feeling that you had accidentally travelled to another dimension while asleep. The room was dim, except for the lamp that was on in the right corner.

When you peered over the edge of the bed, there was Spencer, laying on his stomach with few pillows under his chest and elbows, a book in his hands. He looked peaceful, quiet, calm. "Spence," you whispered. He practically jumped out of his skin and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my god, I'm sorry." You grinned.

He smiled sheepishly, setting down his book. "You're awake."

You nodded back, "How long was I out?"

"Since 4:34, so... 8 hours and 20 minutes. It's only 12:22am." Spencer sat up and against the wall while you adjusted yourself to sit cross-legged. You were still in your clothes from earlier and it surprised you to see Spencer in less preppy clothing.

Well, less preppy for him. No cardigan, no dress shirt, just a t-shirt that read 'math is as easy as pi' with the pi symbol made of cherry pie and his regular khaki pants. "Aren't you tired?" you asked, smiling from his shirt, back to him.

"No, uh, I actually got about four hours in the middle of your eight. I usually don't dream anymore but I actually dreamt I was falling, which is a sign of..." he stopped himself, but he was with another profiler, what was the use, you could already fill in the blanks. He continued, "Which is a sign of insecurity and inferiority, but I don't believe in dream analysis..."

You furrowed your brow, watching his eyes look down at his hands. "Are you feeling insecure and inferior, Dr.Reid, because need I remind you that 99% of the time, it's your brain that leads us to solve the cases."

He shook his head, "Thinking myself over, I'd-I'd say it doesn't revolve around work." The stutter was back. He hadn't talked to you with a stutter in months, you'd assumed it was just because he wasn't as comfortable around you then, but now it was back. Spencer Reid needed to be cheered up, something was wrong.

"Well you know you can tell me anything, right? I've kept secrets about my friends since grade one, I can keep yours." You slipped off of the bed and walked to your bag on the table in the far corner. You could feel Spencer's eyes on you as you went, so you shot him a smile over your shoulder. He reverted back to looking at his hands.

Through situations and being friends, you knew Spencer was insecure. He was bullied constantly as a child, some going as far as to strip him down and beat him. Disgusting, self-esteem-ruining acts you wished you could remove from his eidetic memory.

You took off your button-up blouse to stay in your white t-shirt that lay underneath. You hadn't the time to remove it before falling asleep. Thinking about that- you probably had bedhead too. Your balled-up shirt was shoved into your bag and you pulled out a brush in exchange, to get the knots out of your hair.

"I could really go for frozen yogurt right now," you said, running the wooden brush through your hair. Spencer narrowed his eyes at you, a little confused. "I haven't eaten dinner."

"It's nearly 12:30 am..." Spencer said. It looked like he was running through his vast mind to find a scientific explanation as to why you might have wanted frozen yogurt at half-past midnight. You let him, a teasing smile on your lips as you pulled the top bit of your hair up. "Are you pregnant?" He asked, out of the blue, entirely serious. Seemed like the only logical explanation he could find. You nearly choked on the air.

"No, Spencer, I am not pregnant!" You laughed. His face tightened as he went back to searching his mind. "I just want frozen yogurt. Regular cravings, not... pregnancy cravings. Are you coming?"

He looked at you, oddly surprised he was invited. "Why?"

"Why not?" You picked up his jacket from the hook and tossed it to him. "Nobody has to see your cheesy math shirt."

He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, but went right back to being analytical, a mumbling rant with hand gestures.

"The average half-cup serving of frozen yogurt alone has about 17.3 grams of sugar and plus various toppings, the sugar is upped to at least 25 grams. But, versus a half-cup serving of vanilla ice cream, the sugar is only about 14 grams and with toppings can be upped to about 22. Fat-wise-"

You interrupted him because this was seemingly the only way to lift his mood and he was making excuses to stay here and wallow. "Come on, for once, let's be able to act like the youngest members of the team. Once, Spence. I don't need a play-by-play on how much sugar is in it- though I did find that interesting-I just want frozen yogurt and I would like you to come with me. I'll pay for yours if you want any, just... please?"

He met your eyes with a curl falling down his forehead and quickly looked back at his hands. You'd been friends for nearly a year and four months and he still couldn't look you in the eyes for long. He really wasn't good at refusing you at all, either.

Spencer nodded and you practically beamed. Maybe this would help to take his mind off of what was bothering him, even if the distraction was brief. You jumped on the spot and slipped on your own jacket and grabbed your wallet, ready to go and by the door.

He had a small smile when the two of you stepped out, his hands behind his back. You locked the door behind you and the two of you walked silently to the elevator, careful not to accidentally wake anyone else in case they decided to peer out into the hall.

In the elevator, you turned and looked up at Spencer who was fiddling with his hands. "You look nervous, Spence. It's frozen yogurt, not a pretty girl."

"Well I'm with-" he stopped himself again and actually started laughing his breathy laugh, squeezing his own hand so hard his knuckles turned white while his cheeks and nose went a little pink. "You..." He finished, rocking on his heels.

You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. Though you mentally disagreed with him sometimes on your appearance, you smiled and looked back up at him. "Thank you. You're pretty too."

He shrugged himself further into his jacket, hands still wildly fidgeting. "Thank you..."

You both stepped out of the elevator the moment it got to the ground floor, looking for air that wasn't filled with odd tension neither of you could explain. You two walked through the lobby and into the cool midnight air outside, where things were open, dark, and still.

You shut your eyes for a moment and opened your arms to face the gentle, cool wind that blew your hair and hit your face gently. Inhaling deeply, you opened your eyes again to Spencer in a similar state, but much less relaxed looking. Instead, it looked like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Spence, you look out of it," you said, folding your arms over your chest. You had gotten him outside, now maybe instead of distracting him from whatever it was, you could help him through it. It was part of being a friend- profiling wasn't needed to see he was thinking long and hard over something that bothered him. "You can tell me what's wrong."

He started walking down the street toward the neon lights that shone bright with the word 'fro-yo', you stepped quickly to follow. "If I like a girl.. h-how am I supposed to go about telling her?" He asked, not even looking at you. His forehead was creased and his hands in his jacket pockets.

So this was about a girl he liked. Spencer Reid had a crush. Of course, you were oblivious it was you, but Spencer Reid was romantically interested in someone!

Yay?

An odd feeling of happiness came with finding this out and there was an uprising feeling within you like the first drop on a rollercoaster, but it lingered... and it was much less happy. You ignored it, of course, letting your outer emotions display themselves.

"Dr. Spencer Reid, the human encyclopedia- have you finally found a girl that puts you at a loss for words?" You teased, pressing the back of your hand to your head for dramatic effect, struggling to keep up with him.

His mouth twitched, "Maybe."

"Well, to be honest, Spence, just... tell her. Just go at it- ask to kiss her, maybe, then confess after. Or... or, you could confess, see how she takes it, then you can see if you should or shouldn't kiss her based off of if you get rejected or not." You told him, catching him by the shoulder to get him to slow down at the entrance of the frozen yogurt place.

He was much taller than you, so that came with him being that much faster, but that didn't matter now, he had stopped. Spencer looked at you, concern in his eyes, panic. You smiled kindly, "She won't reject you. I don't know any girl who would even think of it." Reassurance, because he needed it.

His eyes trailed to the ground and he ran a hand through his hair, opening the door for you. "And w-what do I say?" Spencer asked when you both went inside. You were the only two there and the cashier must have been in the back room.

You hopped over to the flavours, "I mean, whatever feels right, Spence. If you feel like going on a long, romantic, poet-written rant about how much you like her, do that. If you're afraid to bore her, you can wait for her to speak, but the truth is if she can't listen to you rant, she probably isn't worth going for."

He evaluated your words while you casually got yourself vanilla frozen yogurt. He also scanned the flavours, probably mentally shaming the company for marketing this as somewhat healthier. You giggled watching him try to figure out how to get the yogurt out of the machine as you put raspberries in yours.

"(Y/N), uh..." he said quietly, gesturing you over. The genius's mind was scrambled enough to miss the lever in front of him. You took his cup from him and pulled the lever, to which he made an 'o' shape with his mouth and nodded comprehensively.

"Chocolate mocha," you smiled, handing it to him as he stood there sheepishly again. "Good choice."

You spun back to your yogurt, adding a bit of honey over the top of it all. He followed, choosing raspberries as well, silently adding them. He still didn't seem at rest with the girl thing, you noticed by the way he was failing to open the scoop-box of cookie crumbs. He had long fingers, usually nimble ones, but not so much right now. Spencer was too stressed to work properly. Error in the system, you may have joked if things weren't so bad with him.

When you were both finished, Spencer tapped the little service bell on the desk and a little woman, maybe mid-30s came out wearing the merchandise of the shop. You both placed your cups on the scale and she weighed them for the price, but both you and Spencer pulled out your wallets.

He put his card out faster, so you swat his hand with your card and paid while he mumbled "Ow..." Of course, you checked to see if he was really hurt, but he had his small, crooked smile back on his face. He was okay, maybe he was feeling better?

Saying good morning/night to the lady, you both stepped back into the midnight air, starting to walk, but not back toward the hotel. You'd think with what cases you two had worked on you'd be a little warier, but with each other, you both felt safe. You walked a few steps, eating your yogurt, before Spencer spoke up again. "Is it a bad thing I'm so clueless as to what women like? Everything I know about women is scientific. Chocolate releases endorphins, flowers are associated with beauty and love, but... other than that... I don't know anything."

You swallowed your bite as Reid took his, waiting on your answer. Just as you always listened to him, he always listened to you. He probably valued your opinion over Derek's at times. You waved your spoon in the air when you spoke, "I wouldn't say bad. Everyone starts somewhere for everything. If anything, a man who is willing to learn is more attractive than one who wings it and doesn't ask comprehensive questions to up the relationship quality."

"Asking questions, got it. Should my confession include a gesture, though?" He spoke with his mouth full. Spencer really wanted to get this right- it was admirable. But there came that uneasy feeling again. It was more like an ache this time. Perhaps it was the awkward hours of sleep throwing you off?

You sucked it up, shoved the feeling down. "Really, Spence, it depends on the woman. Do I know her? Maybe I can help- that is unless you want to profile her to get her interests? I can help with that too-"

"No, I-I don't want to profile her, I want to stay away from that, we do that on a near-daily basis."

"We?" You questioned. Reid froze, but kept walking, looking a little petrified. He put more frozen yogurt in his mouth, maybe to shut himself up. You grinned, "We as in you and her are both profilers or we as in you and I profile others together, so you don't want to profile her with me?"

"I don't want us... to profile her," he cleared his throat. "Yeah..."

You sighed with a breathy laugh, "Good, because I was starting to think you were after Emily."

He chuckled, "Oh, no, not Emily. She's too scary for me anyway. Uh..." He swallowed hard, the way he always did was he was anxious or nervous. I saw in his face he'd come to some sort of conclusion. "Don't... don't yell at me for this, alright?"

"Yell at you? Spence, I wouldn't..." You were confused. He set his frozen yogurt down on the bench he had stopped in front of and stood back in front of you, pushing his hair behind his ears. He looked at you with his doe eyes and the wind blew his curls back in front of his face, he looked to the ground. His forehead still creased between his brows, but his eyes were soft and sweet, his nose was slightly scrunched and his mouth was twisted to the side as if he was once again mentally calculating something. You granted him back the silence from earlier, wondering what was going on in that mind of his. That was... until his eyes met yours and he looked so desperately lost and longing and like he ached inside... and you no longer wondered.

You let out another long sigh. She was you.

This girl that he was trying to understand how to win over, she was you. He asked you because he needed to know what you wanted. He was nervous because he was practically confessing to you and you, a profiler, were too blind to see that.

He watched your face for your reaction, waiting for something good, but you were too shocked to react right. He unfroze, hands flying to the roots of his hair and he spun away from you. He started rambling, obviously thinking everything had gone wrong. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, (Y/N). That- that wasn't how I had things planned and I was so certain that maybe you-hm- liked me too."

His words made it true. This was, in fact, happening at 12:56am in the middle of a foreign city. Your words spilled out, stern, focused, serious. "Kiss me then."

He spun around again, "What?"

"Confess, then kiss, remember?" You recounted carefully, looking directly at him, stepping closer.

"But I didn't get to do my whole monologue thing-" He was grinning pretty hard now, all signs of stress removed from his face. He looked brighter than the neon froyo sign, in happiness and disbelief right down at you. You were pretty sure you looked similar as all the pieces fell in place in your mind. It all fit.

"I don't care." You beamed back. "Do it after."

So without wasting another second, he grabbed your face and kissed you. He kissed you with a year and four months' worth of frustration, lust, confusion and past jealousies. His hands holding your jaw, his fingertips in your hair and your hands on his chest, holding fast to jacket. The kiss was a little messy the first two seconds, but every second after it was enjoyable and sweet and oddly powerful. He also tasted rich, like chocolate mocha, but you knew where that came from.

He pulled away first, which surprised you, but he didn't move very far, in fact, he mumbled against your lips as he tucked your hair out of your face. "I think I've liked you since you and I first met. You didn't hate my science jokes and instead of being annoyed with my informational rants, you listened to me. I wasn't expecting you to be so involved with me since you're, well... you're you and you're loud and fun and sweet and beautiful, but we worked so well together how could I ignore what I felt?"

His hand was a little shaky still, but his fingertips on your cheek were gentle. He continued to quietly ramble, "I decided maybe I'd do something with myself that wasn't devoted to the BAU so I thought maybe I'd- I'd tell you this. That I think you're beautiful and smart and talented and maybe you'd understand and feel the same way and now that I know maybe you do, I feel oddly put back to how I'm supposed to be. And... I think I'm supposed to be with you. If this is too soon or... ruins our friendship, I'm sorry and I'll slow it down, but I won't stop liking you."

You couldn't believe that in a three-minute span you had gone from painfully oblivious to so extremely wide awake. But it was in the best way possible after a year and four months of you also being painfully crushed by your secret feelings for Dr.Reid.

"It's fine, Spence," you said quietly, smiling at him with the most happiness you had found in months. "More than fine, I can't believe this is real."

He tucked the other side of your hair behind your ear, "You might have DRC, then. It stands for dream-reality confusion and is a difficulty or inability to determine whether an event or experience occurred during the waking state or whether it was part of a dream. I can assure you that you aren't dreami-"

You reached up and pulled him onto your lips by the back of the neck, smiling into it. This would be the first time you've ever shut him up. He welcomed it by kissing you back again, softer this time. Now that he was sure you wouldn't hate him for it, it felt a lot more natural, a lot more at ease. His passion was still there, as was yours, but this was how things were supposed to be. There was no longer a rush.

The two of you started laughing after it all. Both of you laughed at how painfully oblivious you both were and he went on a small explanation as to why we don't see our own tells and how feelings of romantic relation cloud the judgement. You went over every time the rest of the team had made a comment you both secretly loved or some you dismissed because it was an ache to hear.

Spencer opened up about his fear of rejection and you did the same and that too resulted in more laughing because here you were, so afraid, but you had both been in it for so long. You deserved to have each other after all this time not only because you fit, but because everyone saw it too, far before either of you did.

An innocent, fun, midnight escapade to cheer Spencer up turned into him finding a truly happy state of mind. You took that as a win and success as you tossed frozen yogurt containers in the garbage and found your way back to your room where you told Spencer it was okay to sleep in the bed as long as he was nice.

So he let you turn out the lights and lay next to him, your head on his chest in the way you had done before when it was only an achingly platonic move. He played with your hair, stared at the green walls, ranted about the history of the colour green and soon after, the both of you went right back to sleep, entirely happy.

Tagged: @ellyhotchner @softhairedhotch

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #criminalminds #emily prentiss #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #spencer x y/n #cm #aaron hotchner #mutual pining #romance #spencer reid fandom

[attllhak]

Adoption AU - Wild and Warriors: The Epic Quest For Taco Bell at 3 am

@tortilla-of-courage so you mentioned you’d be interested in my Adoption AU one-shots, and now that things have calmed down in my house a bit I figured I’d post the first one-shot I wrote; the one about Wild and Warriors going for a Taco Bell run. Theoretically, I was going to do a one-shot for each grouping of boys, as an introduction, but I don’t think that’s happening anymore. Either way, here’s the first thing I wrote!

(And, anyone else who would like to be tagged if/when I post more for this AU, let me know here and I’ll make a list or something)

---------------

“anyone know any good substitutes for love and personal fulfilment?”

Warriors sent the tweet without much thought. He didn’t actually care about an answer, he just felt like venting about his most recent break up in a vague way, and thought he was being funny. He could already see Legend rolling his eyes.

His phone dinged a few times, one reply from Twilight, asking why he was up so late (which he’d responded to with the same inquiry, which had Twilight going silent), one from Legend mocking him, one from Hyrule trying to actually help. He was surprised how many of his brothers were up at this hour.

He dropped the phone on his bed, rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t actually all that tired, probably a consequence of having all afternoon classes and a habit of leaving his work to the last minute. Eh, the first year was supposed to be mostly parties anyways. (Not that Time would ever find out he said that.)

His phone dinged again and he groaned, eying the clock and the small bottle of melatonin next to it. 2:43 am. He should sleep. He didn’t have anything tomorrow, he finished his last final earlier that afternoon, though, so a few more minutes couldn’t hurt.

He picked up the phone and woke it up again. He blinked a few times at the new reply.

“crunchwrap supreme from taco bell”

He ignored Twilight yelling at Wild for being up, as apparently Wild did have a final tomorrow still. Not that Wild was paying any more attention.

He snorted, hitting the like button on Wild’s tweet and clicking off his phone. He reached up to stretch, yawning as he did. He eyed the melatonin bottle again. Technically, he didn’t need the supplements to sleep, but with how messed up his sleep schedule was, they did help him knock out when he planned on sleeping at a reasonable hour. This wasn’t a reasonable hour, but sleepiness hadn’t set in yet either.

Before he could decide, his phone lit up with a text notification. He tilted his head back and pointed his phone down to look at instead of dropping his arms.

Gordon Ramsey 2:44 am

lets go

Warriors blinked once. Then again. He unlocked his phone to type back.

what?????? go where?????

A second passed when he got a reply.

taco bell

for your substitute for love

since you got dumped and need something

oops was that too soon

sorry 

Warriors blinked at the screen again. Wild lived twenty minutes away from the university Warriors was attending, and the nearest Taco Bell was no closer. Plus, Time had revoked Wild’s driving privileges after he crashed his bike into the barn and broke both and his arm. There was no way Wild was getting to the university, much less a fast food joint. Especially at this hour.

and how do you plan to do that? You aren’t allowed to drive yet Mr. Broken Arm

you have a care

*car

That was a very good point.

you are suggesting that I drive 20mins outside of town to pick you up, drive another 20mins back into town, then drive around downtown until we find an open taco bell, at 3am on a school night before you have a final?

There was a few seconds pause, just long enough for Warriors to consider that he’d given up on it.

no

we wont be driving all over town

i googled it and found one

its like 10mins form your collage

*from

*college

Warriors considered that.

twilight won’t be happy

only if he finds out

Wild made a very good point.

how do you plan to get out of the house without him noticing?

i have a window war

The response was so immediate, and he was probably sleep deprived enough, that he burst out laughing when it sent.

20mins

He clicked his phone shut and shoved it in his pocket, grabbing a jacket and his scarf on the way out of his room. He was struggling to shrug them both on at once when he realized his roommate was still up too. There was a tense staredown as their eyes met and they both froze.

Volga broke the standoff by closing his book. “And where are you going at this hour?”

Warriors considered that. “My brother bribed me with food to break him out of the house,”

“At,” he glanced at his watch, “two forty-nine am?”

“Yes,”

The silence was tense.

Volga sighed and opened his book again. “Don’t crash and die, I’d hate to have to get a new roommate when I’ve finally gotten used to you,”

“Don’t burn the dorm down while I’m gone,” Warriors joked back, finally getting the fabric to work with him.

“It happened once, and it’s not like you’re any better at cooking!”

“I don’t set what I make on fire, and then freak out and throw it when blowing out that fire doesn’t work,” he grabbed his keys from the dish by the door and waved behind him.

“It happened once, Link!”

“And it’s why we order out now,” he grinned, ducking out the door. “See you later, Volg, be back in an hour or so,”

He could hear Volga’s angry shout through the door, so hurried down the stairs to the ground level as quickly as he could, before Volga woke their neighbor again.

He was still giggling when he got to the parking lot. Volga was just too easy to rile up.

The cool night air woke him up a little more so, and he took a deep breath as he located his car. A hand-me-down vehicle, he inherited it from Time when he was old enough to drive. Mostly this was so he could stop asking everyone else for their cars when he wanted to go somewhere. A little elbow grease however, and no one could tell it was at least 20 years old and not fresh off the lot. He made sure none of his brothers were allowed to drive it, especially after Wild got his bike stuck in a tree, or Legend crashed into a lake, or Twilight picked up drag racing, or Wild got his bike stuck on the roof, or Hyrule lost his car, or Four rolled his truck, or Wild and the barn literally last week. A lot of the crashes in the family came from Wild going ‘oh yeah? Watch this!’ now that he thought about it. It was a miracle he still had the same bike.

The twenty minute drive to the farm was pretty boring, nothing of note really happening.

He turned off his headlights as he pulled into the drive, not wanting to wake anyone, especially Time, up. He shot off a quick text to Wild when he parked.

A window opened and Legend’s head poked out to glare at him. His phone dinged.

Royal Pain 3:12 am

what are you doing here?

He glared back at Legend and typed out a response.

taco bell run

Legend glanced down, presumably at his phone, then back up a Warriors with an incredulous expression.

at 3am????

and if so why are you /here/????

Warriors pointedly looked around the house where Wild emerged from the bushes. Said brother grinned and popped open the passenger door to climb in.

“Hey,” he grinned. His hair was a mess, with at least two visible sticks stuck in it, and he was still in his sleep clothes. Despite this, he seemed fine.

“Legend has us made,” Warriors nodded to their brother, who was still glaring with his head out the window.

Royal Pain 3:15 am

twilight won’t be happy about this

Warriors frowned, trying to shield his phone from Wild as he typed back.

twilight won’t know

Warriors did not like the look in Legend’s eyes as he got the next text.

unless i tell him

Warriors glared up at his brother, working his jaw.

what do you want?

He hated the pleased grin Legend shot him.

the most expensive thing on the menu on your dime

fine

Warriors shoved his phone away with a growl, flipping off the overly smug Legend as he put the car in gear. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“What was that about?” Wild asked.

“We’re buying him food too now,” Warriors growled, flicking back on his headlights.

“Oh, cool,” Wild leaned back into the seat and pulled out his phone. “So the Taco Bell we’re going to only has the drive thru open, and it’s just off main street,”

Warriors nodded, focussing on the road and not that Wild had found the aux cord.

About thirty minutes later, as Wild finally turned down the music to provide directions, he snapped and turned to Warriors mid direction. “Do you want to sign my cast?”

Warriors blinked. “Maybe when we stop, I’m not crashing to sign your cast right now.”

Wild nodded, and pointed across Warriors at the street they had to go down.

They pulled into the drive thru and ordered, then had to wait for the very expensive thing Legend wanted. Warriors turned to Wild as the car idled.

“Do you have a marker?”

Wild blinked at him, then brightened up and offered out a sharpie and his right arm. The cast, under the signatures and well wishes of their family and all of Wild’s friends, was painted in very poorly drawn flames. Warriors raised an eyebrow as he searched for a clear spot to sign.

“Hyrule painted it for me,” Wild explained with a grin.

“Ah,” Warriors hummed as he finally tracked down an empty space by Wild’s elbow.

He scrawled out his name, not much room for anything else, and then handed the capped sharpie back to Wild while he twisted around to accept the food from the drive thru worker.

He shot off a text to Legend to let him know they had his food, alongside an upset emoji. Legend sent him a devil face emoji back. Wild dug through the bag for his food, sharpie stuck in his hair alongside the twigs, which seemed to be multiplying.

Warriors rolled his eyes and pulled back onto the road.

At some point, Wild pulled the wrap out and handed it to Warriors, who ate one handed as he drove. Wild was right about one thing, the wrap did taste very good.

He pulled into the drive of the farmhouse, headlights off, just as he finished off the wrap. He phone dinged the second he put the car in park.

Royal Pain 3:58 am

where’s my food bitch

Warriors looked up to the window where Legend was leaning out and glaring at him.

Wild laughed at the surly look on Legend’s face, climbing out and taking the bag with him. “I’ll feed him,” he promised, grinning. “Thanks for the trip, War!”

“No problem,” Warriors grinned back. “Just make sure you get to bed once you’re inside, so Twi doesn’t suspect in the morning,”

Wild gave him a thumbs up. He shut the door a little too hard, making Warriors wince, and bounced up to throw the bag up to Legend. Legend caught it the second time, when Wild opted to use his not broken arm to toss it, and disappeared inside again. Warriors’ phone dinged again a few seconds later.

Royal Pain 4:00 am

thanks pretty boy

your secret is safe with me

for now

Warriors rolled his eyes and sent him a thumbs up back, then pulled out of the drive again to head back to campus. He was actually starting to feel tired now, so he figured he’d get home and just crash. It’d be like, 4:30 in the morning by then, and he was pretty sure Volga would be asleep. And if he wasn’t, they had a rule that after 4 am until 7 they were allowed to ignore each other, so it’d be fine.

Volga was asleep when Warriors snuck in, passed out in a chair with the book on his chest. Warriors took the sight in, then sighed.

He dropped his keys in the dish, then pulled off his jacket and scarf to hang in his room. He grabbed a bookmark off his shelf and wandered back out to pull the book off of Volga’s chest and set it down so the spine wouldn’t crease. He left Volga like that, however. He didn’t want the books to get damaged, but if Volga was dumb enough to fall asleep in the common room without a blanket, then he deserved what he woke up with.

He was very lucky that Warriors was too tired to find a sharpie.

He fell asleep before remembering to take off his shoes.

(---)

The next morning, so about noon, he was woken by Volga pounding on the door to put his phone on silent.

His phone buzzed on the desk next to him and he pulled it off and up to his head, hitting answer before looking at the contact.

“Hullo?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“Twilight knows,” Legend greeted him.

“What?” Warriors sat up, groaning as his back complained from sleeping on his stomach all night. It took a second for his brain to catch up.

“Twilight knows,” Legend repeated. “Hyrule sold you out, unintentionally, and I can hear him selling you both out to Time,”

Warriors blanched as the words registered. “Oh shit,” he threw himself out of bed, hissing as he realized he slept fully dressed, and scrambled for the things he’d need in order to flee. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes if you get lucky and Wind pulls through, less if not,”

Warriors cursed under his breath as he changed his shirt and tried to make it look like he hadn’t been sleeping in what he was wearing. “Thanks for the heads up, I’d say I owe you but,”

“You’d rather not owe me,”

“Yeah,”

“Look, if you get caught and cave, I go down too. This is self-preservation. Don’t cave and we’re even.”

“Got it, I won’t,”

“You better not,” Legend hissed. “Good luck,”

“Thanks,” Warriors nodded, even though Legend couldn’t see him.

He tossed the phone on his dresser as the line went dead and he went about trying to comb through his hair so he looked presentable.

A hard knock on his door came a few seconds later.

“I put my phone on vibrate, Volga!” He shouted through the door. “You can drop it now!”

“Link?”

Warriors paused, then opened the door. Lana, Impa and Artemis waited on the other side, Volga glaring at them and hovering behind them.

Warriors blinked dumbly at them. “Uh, hi?”

“Hi Link! Good morning!” Lana grinned and waved at him.

“It’s noon,” Impa reminded the group, eying Warriors up and down.

“Oh, right,” Lana nodded, then went back to grinning at him. “Good noon, Link!”

He snorted and shook his head to clear it. “Good noon to you too, Lana. Can I ask what you’re all doing here?”

“We were hoping you’d join us for something,” Artemis smiled at him, also looking him over, trying to find whatever Impa had picked up on. “We’re going on a small road trip since all our finals are over, and we were planning on hitting a few different cities over the week,”

“Mhm,” Lana nodded quickly. “We’re leaving today, and are taking no calls until we get back, and we’re camping in the car, which is why we’re using my van, and we were hoping you’d come with us,”

“I’m in,”

The three girls blinked at him. Maybe he answered too fast, but taking no calls, meaning no contact with his family, for a week gave them time to move past this, and he really didn’t want to deal with a lecture from Time. His friends just offered him asylum, whether they knew it or not.

Impa narrowed her eyes. “What happened with your family?” She asked, already onto him.

“Nothing that’s my fault,” he responded, ducking back into his room. “What should I bring with?”

Lana listed off what they figured they’d take and he pulled out a suitcase, nodding along as he started packing. He fired off a text to the group chat as he grabbed his jacket, tossed over one arm, and wrapped his scarf around his neck.

World’s Best Captain 11:39 am

Leaving on a road trip with some friends. Be back in a week, but I can’t take calls until I’m back. Don’t kill each other!

He put his phone on silent and slipped it into his pocket.

He might have a hellish text backlog when he got back, but it’d be better than the lecture from Time. And besides, he got to spend a week with the best girls he knew.

As far as he was concerned, everything worked out win-win for him.

Wild was right, the crunchwrap supreme from Taco Bell did work wonders in supplying love and personal fulfilment, even if not in the way he meant it.

He made a note to get Wild something as thanks while they were out. Maybe some crash pads. Goddesses knew that his brother needed them.

#linked universe #lu #lu wild #lu warriors #lu legend #volga #lu artemis #impa #general #lana #general is the nickname we gave hw impa #apparently i wrote this in september last year #so this has been sitting in my google docs for a while #also! #if anyone can help me find the blog and post this fake tweet came from #so i can link to it if nothing else #i would very much appreciate that #also don't use this to judge the quality of my writing #this is a year old already #adoption au

[headcanonsandhijinx]

Breaking Point

Edit: this was originally called ‘Wild Angst Oneshot’ as I couldn’t think of a name, but due to a great suggestion by Narutofan8762 on AO3, it’s now titled ‘Breaking Point’.

I was scrolling on tiktok and saw an acting video with an audio that was from Supergirl, basically yelling at someone who had abandoned her and my brain immediately went ‘Wild yelling at Hylia!’ So I had to try and write this, and then I turned it into a Linked Universe fic because I’m kinda obsessed.

Under the cut, because as usual, my oneshots tend to get pretty long, pretty quickly...

***

She was cold.

That was all he could think as his heart thundered in his chest. She was cold in his arms.

He had finally defeated Calamity Ganon and as the beast finally disappeared from the land that it had long tormented, she had appeared. Zelda was finally free.

He had been running towards her before he even realised and had pulled the princess into a hug with repeated apologies falling from his dry, cracked lips.

Zelda had wrapped her arms back around him and managed to speak into his ear before she went limp in his arms. He had let his body move down to the ground to keep her cradled in his arms, but it was too late.

As soon as he took her face in his hands, the light left her eyes and she breathed her last.

That was how he stayed for hours. In the middle of Hyrule Field, with the body of the woman he was supposed to protect as he cried and her final words repeated over and over in his mind.

“You have nothing to apologise for, Link. You saved us all”

***

Several hours later, found her body draped across his lap, with one of his hands gently holding the back of her head and the other wrapped around her back, while he rocked back and forth as he cried out his grief to the world. He had sat there and screaming and crying for hours over her body.

Then when morning came, he picked up Zelda’s body, called over his horse and began the long trek back to Kakariko Village.

***

Impa had been distressed to see the princess’ body, and it wasn’t helped by the state of Link’s injuries that he had neglected in his grief. A broken arm, 4 cracked ribs, scrapes, bruises, and a concussion.

Impa had insisted that he stay in Kakariko while he healed and the funeral was planned. The time seemed to go by in a blink and before he knew it, the day of the funeral arrived. In a strange turn from the blur of the past few days, the ceremony seemed to last longer than the hundred years he’d slept as Link watched the body of the one he swore protect be laid to rest.

Link was just thankful that the gravesite had been moved from the original plan to bury her near the remnants of the castle, but he couldn’t bear to lay her body to rest in the place where she’d been trapped for a hundred years. She was being buried by the pond atop Satori Mountain. Link had regained a memory of visiting it with Zelda and she’d been amazed by it, so he had brought up the idea of burying her there with Impa, who had agreed to his signing and changed the plans.

Once the ceremony had concluded, Impa had invited Link stay in Kakariko and after a while, he had surprisingly accepted the offer. However, Impa didn’t tell him that she was scared he may do something drastic and he did, just not in the way anyone expected.

He just stayed in the spare house he was staying in, seemingly okay with secluding himself away from the rest of the world. Thoughts of his failure and weakness became his only constant companion as he wouldn’t leave the house for anyone. No matter who came to see him, he wouldn’t answer and if someone journeyed inside, he wouldn’t reply to any questions. And the more they tried to help, the more he pulled away. Eventually, Impa had to ask everyone to keep monitoring him but to leave him alone, out of fear that he may run away and never been seen again if they pushed too much.

They still tried to help, but in little ways that included minimal interaction, if they even saw him. Food would be left outside the door for him and it would be eaten, but only just enough to keep himself alive. He would train and practice constantly during the day and the nights where he couldn’t sleep for fear of failing Hyrule again, often passing out in the middle of the floor sometimes for desperately needed rest.

And that was the way it stayed for six months. A constant cycle of self-loathing and punishing himself for not being good enough.

Until a gang of travelers had walked into Kakariko.

***

“We’ve been walking for ages.” Wind complained as he panted with his hands on his knees and he wasn’t the only one. The group had been walking for almost an entire day and still hadn’t found a settlement or village to rest at, and they’d found this Hyrule’s Beadle who had given them directions, but the group was questioning how accurate they were.

“Well Beadle said Kakariko was this way and he said it wasn’t far, but I think he was just trying to get rid of us before Sky bought all his bugs.” Warrior joked as he stood beside Sky, who elbowed him in the side.

“Come on, he said we should be there by midday if we were quick enough and then we can rest there.” Time chimed in from his place walking at the front of the ground. There were several groans but no more complaints as they continued walking.

It was around two hours later when they finally saw the entrance to this Hyrule’s version of Kakariko Village and upon seeing it, the groups let out several sighs of relief as they journeyed inside.

There were only a few people around the village from what Twilight could see. As he walked in, he spotted a man painting, a little girl sitting by a fire, another younger girl running around and some guards standing in front of a set of stairs that lead up to a building.

“Okay, we should ask later and see if we can find this Hyrule’s hero.” Twilight suggested as he turned around to face the rest of the group, who were all surveying the village as well.

“You’re looking for the hero?” A small voice came from behind him and as he turned, he saw the little girl that was running around a moment ago.

“Yeah, we are. Do you know where he is?” Wind asked the girl.

“Yes, but daddy says he’s ill so he never leaves the house.” The little girl answered before they heard another voice and a man came over to join them.

“I’m sorry sirs, I hope my daughter wasn’t being any trouble.” He said as he looked down lovingly at the girl.

“Oh no sir. She was just telling us where we could find someone that we are looking for.” Time replied.

“Well, perhaps I may be able to offer you some more assistance. Who are you looking for?” The man asked kindly.

“We’re looking for the hero, presumably goes by the name ‘Link’.” Legend spoke up and it was quite jarring to see how quickly the smile left the man’s face.

“You should all come with me.” The smile didn’t return.

***

They’d been herded into a house at the top of a long staircase after that and introduced to this Hyrule’s Impa. She had quickly filled them in on the situation as much as she could and it was a lot to take in.

The land had been decimated by this Hyrule’s Ganon and had suffered for a hundred years, until Link could finally defeat him. (she hadn’t told them about Wild’s death. That would be something for the boy to explain on his own terms. Impa tried to give him control over the very little that he had a say in. She wouldn’t take this explanation away from him too.)

They’d then been left alone in the room and were trying to think of how to approach this new Link when Legend spoke up.

“You heard how they talked about him! How are we supposed to break it to him? Huh, just dump it on him when these guys have said that he’s ill.” Legend snapped. “Hey, we’re all reincarnations of the hero and we’ve all defeated some kind of evil that has threatened our Hyrules. Now Hylia is grouping us all together on a new quest so we can figure out who is behind all these black blooded monsters and stop them. If she’s brought us here then we need you to help us. You’ll probably need to say your goodbyes because she’ll make you join us whether you want to or not. How does that sound?” He snapped sarcastically, already done with the situation.

But nobody spoke, not even to scold him for his outburst and Legend turned around to see this Hyrule’s Link standing in the room’s doorway, presumably having just heard his rant about their quest.

Fuck.

But that wasn’t the worst part of the situation. The worst part of the situation was this Link’s appearance.

The group didn’t know what was worse about it. The painful looking scars that covered part of his left cheek creeping up to cover his ear and snaking down his neck to presumably cover his body as well, or the blank look of numbness on the boy’s face. He had walked in with Paya as he stared into the distance at nothing, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings as he stood there. Warriors had been closest and he recognised the look in this Link’s eyes. It was the look of someone who had completely given up and retreated from the world. He’d seen it on lots of fellow soldiers on the battlefield and off it. Men who’d retreated into their heads because the war was too scarring.

That was when the new Link had pulled something from his belt and vanished in shards of glowing blue light, teleporting away before anyone could even say anything.

“Great. Now what do we do?” Wind questioned, unsure of how to precede.

“I fear there is nothing we can do, apart from wait for his return.” This Hyrules Impa spoke up. “Link knows how to hide when he doesn’t want to be found and the more we try to force our company into him, the more he resists it.” The group were reluctant to accept this at all, but eventually conceded after Impa told them that he would probably return soon, once he got his head around what was going on and came up with a plan. (She didn’t tell them that she was even more worried about Link then they were.)

***

Link walked through Hateno Village as he headed towards the house he had bought almost a year ago, hoping that one day he may be able to take Zelda there. However, that would never happen now.

The wooden bridge beneath him creaked as he moved across it. His eyes now set on the item before him that was his reason for coming here at all. He strode fowards and wrapped his hands around it before it vanished in streams of blue light into his slate. He opened the map, selected his next location and disappeared.

Leaving Bolson and Karson behind as they looked at each other worriedly. They hadn’t seen him in months and he hadn’t even seemed to hear them calling his name.

***

He walked inside with the sledgehammer he had taken from outside his house as he set his sights on the aim of his journey.

The statue of the goddess Hylia, in the Temple of Time.

The goddess who had ignored her peoples suffering. Who had left her people to die. Who had let everyone he knew die. Who had ignored Zelda’s prayers and pleas for her help with her dormant powers, and had ignored his silent pleas for years.

Who was now demanding his help again, threatening to rip his world away from him once again if he refused.

Walking to the base of the statue and shifting his stance, he swung the hammer into the side of it. Before pulling it back and hitting it over and over and over again, parts of the ancient statue crumbling to the ground as the hero released his fury.

“You were supposed to protect us! You were supposed to protect your people! Protect the land and people you created!” He screamed the first words he had said in months, his voice hoarse and rough in his throat. “You were supposed to protect her! She trusted you, she believed in you!” His voice cracked and his throat ached as he yelled, unused to being used at such a loud volume.

Then he stopped and let the head of the sledgehammer rest on the floor as Link realised something.

“I... I believed in you.” It was practically a whisper.

“I trusted you.” It was louder now.

“I trusted you! I thought you’d help us. I thought you’d help me, but you abandoned us! You just left us all to die! You let me die!” He couldn’t breathe because he had trusted her and look where that trust had gotten him.

Nowhere.

“I lost everything.” He thought outloud.

“Do you hear me? I’ve lost everything because of you and your stupid quest!” His ears were ringing as he started screaming again as the hammer was back striking at the statue of the goddess even harder then before.

“I lost my family!” A family he couldn’t even remember.

“I lost my home!” Another place thats memories were lost to him.

“I lost everyone I’ve ever cared about!” That was something he could only assume. He must of had a family at some point, maybe even some friends? He just didn’t know.

“Daruk” His back throbbed with phantom pain in memory of how hard his congratulatory back ‘pats’ were. How loud his voice was, even when he was trying to be quiet.

“Revali” Even though they had mainly been at odds with each other, Link still remembered a few things. The way he would preen whenever he got any amount of attention, or the sound of his wings gliding through the air.

“Urbosa” The sound of her voice rang through his ears, how she’d always sounded so confident and sure of herself. How proud she was of her people and her culture.

“Mipha” The girl he was supposedly in love with, and he could barely remember anything about her. He could remember how soft her voice was but how she was also incredibly fierce in battle when defending those she loved, but that was it. There was practically nothing left.

“Ze-Zelda!” He hit the statue so hard that his hammer shattered into pieces, as he thought of the few things that he could actually remember about her. The way her eyes light up when she talked about the Shiekah technology or a rare species of animal or flower. The way her nose would slightly scrunch up and her eyebrows would furrow when she was annoyed at him. The way her hands shook when she held him as he died in her arms.

“I’ve lost everything because of you! I have nothing left anymore! I’m done. Do you hear me? I’m done with you!” He was no longer screaming, but he wasn’t done yet.

Looking up at the partially ruined statue before him, he dropped to his knees among the stones that now littered the floor. And dropping his head into his hands, he took a deep breath, before he threw his head back...

And screamed.

It was long and loud and every time he ran out of breath, he just took a deeper one and started again. The screams were haunting, heartbreaking and full of grief because Link, after years of mounting pressure, trauma and incapacitating grief, was finally breaking down.

***

When Link awoke he hadn’t realised that he’d fallen asleep, or more accurately, that he’d passed out after screaming for hours. His throat was sore and he felt like he was drifting in that weird feeling numbness that usually occurred when he had a breakdown, although they had never been this bad before.

He looked at the destruction around him and to his surprise, he didn’t feel guilty about it. He’d expected to feel guilty like he always did these days, blaming himself for everything that went wrong. Even if he knew that, logically, there wasn’t any possible way that he could be responsible for it.

But this? This left him feeling hollow instead. Because there was nothing left of him anymore.

He was tired and emotionally drained and he wanted to stay here in his Hyrule. He didn’t want to be forced into being the Goddess’ pawn again, and yet he had no choice. He never had a choice when it came to the Goddess and her will, that was a lesson he learned a long time ago.

He took a moment to breathe and took out the sheikah slate to teleport back to Kakariko.

‘Time to face the Goddess’, he thought as he tried to prepare himself to once again succumb to the Goddess’ wishes and relinquish any thoughts of freedom.

It wouldn’t do any good to imagine a luxury that he would never be granted.

#link #legend of zelda #loz #wild #linked universe au #linked universe #I hurt wild #…again #legend of zelda breath of the wild #botw #legend of zelda wild #angst #time #sky #wind #legend #warriors #Hyrule #four #twilight #linked universe fanfic #fanfic

[sup3rsexy-ax0lotl]

I've recently started watching mlp again (despite being in my mid teens) and I swear I am going to wife up Applejack. It is my life goal.

♡ 18+ fanfic

♡ Will include smut if I feel like it y'all be patient

♡ A lot of cheesy romance ahead, you've been warned 🧍🧍

♡ This is a wlw fanfic so men go away 😌💞

♡ Mild blood warning but not too bad it's a little tiny cut

~ Apple of my Eye ~

You'd grown familiar with the people of Ponyville, though you were very much closer to some than others, but despite that everyone loved seeing you around the town. Your closest friends were the "Main Six" of Ponyville: Twilight, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie and Applejack (your best friend from the whole group).

You and Applejack had grown a bond unlike any of the rest of the people in the Ponyville. She made you feel special and always made sure you were comfortable and happy with your work. Even on her busy days tending to her farm she would spare a minute to talk to you. Of course if she ever needed help you would drop everything immediately to aid her in anything she needed; be it apple picking or repainting the barn.

As your friendship grew with Applejack, however, you couldn't help but notice a heaviness in your chest whenever the two of you were apart. But it would feel even heavier when you were together.

At first, it left you confused, but as it started to interfere with your work, you grew frustrated. Why wouldn't this feeling ever go away? Why couldn't you go a day without thinking about Applejack? It just didn't make sense to you.

Having had enough of this feeling, you consulted with the rest of your friends about your heavy heart only to be met with the four of them smiling between each other.

"Darling," Rarity spoke up, "it seems to us that you may have a certain... fondness for dear Applejack. Perhaps one that friends wouldn't normally have?"

You blinked.

What?

"What Rarity is trying to say," Twilight spoke out, smiling at you, "is that it's clear you like Applejack as more than a friend,"

Then it hit you.

You liked Applejack.

How had you not figured that out sooner?

Finally seeking out the conclusion you were looking for, you decided to go home, hoping to get the first good night's rest you'd been missing out on for days.

The next morning, you headed straight for Sweet Apple Acres to check if the Apple family needed any help. You noticed Big Mac and Apple Bloom out on the fields tending to some newly sprouted trees, Apple Bloom jumping in excitement while Big Mac kept his usual soft smile.

You leaned against the fence and called out to them, "Hey guys! Is Applejack around?"

"Oh hey Y/N! Yeah she's just over there picking for apples. She could use some help I think,"

Apple Bloom pointed towards some trees further out and you realised you would be alone with Applejack for a while.

You swallowed hard and made your way towards her.

~×~

"Whoo, that is mighty fine work. Thanks a lot for helping me again with the pickin' sugar cube," Apple said with a slight pant to her voice as she rested a hand on your shoulder. The two of you had managed to fill two barrels with vibrant red and green apples.

"You're welcome, Apple Pie," You smiled at her, but brushed her hand off of you to pick up one of the barrels.

"How many times have I told ya not to call me that?" She questioned, but laughed as she did so, picking up the other barrel. You laughed with her but gave no response, feeling no need to. Anyways, you liked hearing her laugh.

"Oh, would you look at those beauties," Granny Smith remarked as you placed your barrel down on the kitchen floor. "You strong girlies need a rest. I'll get you both some Apple cider, how's that sound?"

She was already pushing the two of you out of the room before either of you could object, so you both shrugged at each other and sat down on the porch, watching the sky turn pink. 

Applejack sighed as she took off her hat to lean against the wall, her eyes closed, a peaceful expression on her face. You opened your mouth to speak but decided against it and kept quiet, letting her rest. Noticing Apple Bloom and Big Mac still out on the fields, you smiled and thought about how happy you might be if you were part of the Apple family. They always seem to have fun; even on busy days.

"What's wrong sweety?" Applejack interrupted your thoughts and you noticed a frown had made its way onto your face.  You looked up to meet her eyes, their green hue glowing in the golden light of the sunset, and you sighed.

"I-"

"Here you go dearies, some nice cold cider," Granny Smith's voice cut in as she carefully carried the cider out onto the porch on shaky legs.

"Oh, let me take that from ya Granny." Applejack took the two drinks from Granny Smith's hands and smiled as she passed yours to you. You took it with a quiet "thank you."

"Now, what were you goin' to say there, sugar?" Applejack inquired, but you just responded by saying you remembered you had some work to do before the week ended. She offered to help you but you kindly declined, your mind racing at the thought of her being in such a close proximity to you. You sighed again and sipped on your cider, ignoring Applejack's stare.

~×~

After finishing your drink you said your goodbyes to the Apple family, offering a quick glance at Applejack before leaving. You were headed back to your home in the town, deep in thought when the shrill screech of a voice hit your ears.

"Y/N!!"

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned to the voice that had scared you, recognising it as your friend Pinkie Pie. "Oh, hey Pinkie," You smiled at your excited friend, though admittedly it was forced.

"You look sad, Y/N. What happened?" She asked, concern clear in her voice. Before you could answer, she gasped and came to her own conclusion.

"DID YOU TRY TALKING TO APPLEJACK!?" You slapped your hand over her mouth and shushed her, pulling her behind a building. "Yes but shut up I don't need everyone in Ponyville knowing I like Apple, okay?" You practically begged, and she nodded, even going as far as to Pinkie promise not to tell anyone.

"Maybe, try telling her tomorrow?" She inquired and you nodded, but you felt your stomach twist into a knot.

~x~

As soon as the sun was shining through your window you stumbled out of bed and made the dreaded journey to Sweet Apple Acres. You decided doing what Pinkie insisted would be better for you in the long run, not wanting to have her hovering over your shoulder every hour of every day.

The walk was slow due to hesitation filling your body and the fear of confessing making your blood run cold. This feeling was unfamiliar to you; you'd never liked anyone this much before. And the thought of losing Applejack's friendship was even scarier.

"No. I can't think about that," You whispered to yourself, clenching your fists and continuing the journey on steady feet.

~×~

"Heya darlin'," Applejack called out from the porch as she noticed you walking up the path, "You're startin' to spoil me with all this help you're givin'," She joked with a wink, making your heart stop. Letting out a nervous laugh, you rubbed your shoulder and looked her in the eye. They were sparkling again in the warm light of the sunrise, and you felt your stomach twist tighter as you fell for her even harder.

"Well anyways, everyone's out working on the fields today, so that leaves us baking apple pies. That okay with you, Sugar?" Applejack informed and you nodded, smiling slightly.

You'd be working alone with Applejack.

Upon entering the kitchen, Applejack assigned you the role of apple preparation while she made the dough. She carefully passed you a knife to cut the apples after washing them and you began chopping. A peaceful silence washed over the two of you as you concentrated on your tasks, but of course, Pinkie's words sat at the back of your mind.

"Try telling her," echoed through your thoughts and you clenched the knife a little harder.

Just try making conversation first.

"So, how come we're making pies?"

"We're runnin' low on baked goods so Granny told me to start makin' some more. That, and, we make a pretty good team," She beamed at you and you felt the blood rising to your cheeks so you quickly looked back down to continue chopping.

"Yeah, I suppose we do..."

"Honey, you seem a little down. What's wrong, Sweety?"

You felt panic shoot through you and started to shake. 'Be honest,' was the next thing. You continued cutting with a shaking hand. 'No, if I was honest now I'd ruin everything,' you thought, so deep in your own doubts you were no longer paying attention to how you were cutting.

You felt the blade come down on your finger and you hissed, pulling away and clenching your hand tight.

"Fucking shit," You cursed in a panic.

Applejack looked over to you with wide eyes.

"Y/N!" She rushed over to you and took your hand, holding it over the sink as she ran cold water over your bleeding finger. She left you for a minute to grab a clean cloth and a bandaid and returned to you with a furrowed brow.

"That was stupid. What the hell is goin' on with you, sugar cube?"

You looked down at her hand holding yours, your cut freshly cleaned and covered. A hand met your cheek and you looked back up at Applejack, her face now more concerned than angry.

"You've been awful distracted lately, what's on your mind?"

Her hand left your cheek to rest on your shoulder, a sad smile growing on her face. You couldn't help but feel like this was going to be the end of a wonderful friendship - just the thought of Applejack avoiding you made you feel sick.

You sighed.

'Now or never.'

"Applejack I... I like you. A lot. As more than a friend."

...

Silence filled the room.

You started to panic.

"Fuck I messed up," You thought to yourself.

But just as you were about to pull your hand away, her grip tightend, and you looked up to see a smiling Applejack with a pink tint resting on her cheeks.

"Sweety, was that all?" She laughed softly.

"You're not uncomfortable or upset?"

"Upset? Hun, why would I be upset? I've been racking my brain trying to think of ways to tell you I... I like you too."

"I like you too."

Those words echoed in your mind and you felt your body finally relax for the first time in weeks.

"You like me too?" You spoke in awe, smiling as a wave of relief washed over you.

A soft pair of lips to your forehead were conformation enough for you and sighed a contented sigh, looking Applejack in eye.

"I do," She whispered as she leaned in closer to you until you felt her lips fall against yours. The kiss was sweet and you both very easily found a rhythm that felt natural, as if you'd already kissed a thousand times before.

Her lips were soft, and you could taste the fainted taste of apples on your tongue.

Her hand caressed your cheek, down your jaw and rested on your collar bone as she pulled away, leaving you breathless.

"Now," Applejack started, "since we've got all that mushy shit outta the way, how about we get back to bakin'," She gestured at the mess on the kitchen counter and you laughed, nodding your head.

"This time, I'll do the choppin'."

#fanfic #applejack #rainbow dash #twilight sparkle #pinkie pie #fluttershy #rarity #romance #fanfiction #fluff #eventual romance #eventual smut #slowly but surely #wlw #lesbian #homophobesgoaway #i love women #apples #my little pony #not for kids #minorsbackoff #or I'll tell your parents #friendship #friendship is magic #friends to lovers #kindaslowbutnotreally #applejackxreader #kitchenmakeout

[dumblydork]

Dying Embers

Her hair swished wildly in the wind, as if it were leaves swaying from the onset of a cyclone- flowing down to her waist, head thrown back. Fiery red, just like the dying embers of what was formerly a warming furnace. He could hear her laughter, slow and melodic, almost as if it were empyrean. She was the love of Harry's entire being. The soul to his body, the mind to his brain. She turned around, and all Harry could glimpse was her mouth- full, and pulled into a large smile. Her eyes were a bright hazel, shining with happiness, as she ran towards Harry, fitting easily in his arms.

They had met at the ball thrown by his parents that summer, exactly so that their son could meet a suitable young woman to marry. Harry had been extremely bored with the festivities, instead wishing he were out practicing archery with his friend, Neville.

His eyes flew around the room, passing from and then returning to a young woman who had just entered the gala. She didn't seem familiar, and was chaperoned by who seemed to her brother, judging from their hair. Harry was mesmerised- her yellow dress floated around her as if it were made of the finest, lightest silk to exist, and her hair was pulled back elegantly, exposing the milky column of her neck. He walked towards the pair.

"Forgive my intrusion, but will the lovely lady here consider dancing the next waltz with me?" Harry bowed slightly, his hand pulled tightly at his back.

The girl eyed him shyly as his brother did a more open appraisal. "We would like to first make your acquaintance, sir." He finally spoke.

"Of course, forgive me. I am Lord Harry Potter, Viscount of Little Whinging." He said, an automatic confidence seeping into his voice, one which only came from being the son of a duke.

"Forgive me, my Lord, I did not know. I am Ronald Weasley, and this is my younger sister, Ginevra Weasley. Our father is the Baron Weasley of Burrows." The pair bowed deeply, something which made Harry slightly uncomfortable.

"Please, I take no offense. It is my pleasure to make an acquaintance of Lord Weasley's children. He is my father's close friend. My question, however, to Lady Ginevra here remains unanswered." Harry steered the topic back to more important things from mere formalities.

"Of course, my lord." Ginevra said softly, placing her hand in Harry's outstretched one. As they walked towards the center of the floor, Harry's eyes met the identical ones of his mother, who stood to the side, flashing her son a soft smile.

"I adore you. And so does every thread of my existence, until my breath ceases." Harry spoke, bringing himself back from the night at the ball.

"I simply reciprocate, my Lord. And shall do so until death pull us part." She spoke softly, meeting Harry's lips with her own.

At the brink of twilight, a day before their wedding, the two of them wove their lives together, sealed by golden vows.

---

"Harry? Get on up, it's time to go!" His mother, Lily's voice flitted through the room, and sunlight poured inside as well, casting a bright glow all over. Harry sat up in bed, stretching excessively, getting rid of the multitude of pulls and pains he seemed to acquire over the night.

His parents swore he did not sleepwalk and fall down the stairs.

"Harry, honey, come on. You'll be late for uni otherwise." His mother peeked inside, her reddish brown hair pulled into a knot at the top of her head, green eyes shining with motherly affection. Seeing his mother's hair, Harry was reminded of his dream- recurring dream, he should say. Even though it was simply a few minutes old, seeing the 'girl' in his dream, he felt as if it were quite some lifetimes ago.

He had been dreaming of a girl quite frequently lately, and not in the lewd way his best friend Ron seemed intent on. Harry would always simply spot her hair, the curve of her waist and as soon as she turned around, he would be jolted awake.

When he was a child, his mother used to tell him tales in which princesses would dream of faceless men, a golden bond tying the two people together. The faceless person you dreamt about was whom you shared your golden thread of life with. But those were just fantasy- woven to make a dull reality exciting. At least now, at the age of 19, was what Harry believed. He hopped out of bed, and walked off into the bathroom, getting started on his morning routine. It was half past eight when he went downstairs, his first class of the morning at 9:15. His father, James, was stood in front of the kettle, pouring himself a cup of his morning Earl Grey, and his mother was setting down the plate of pancakes on the table.

"Breakfast?" She asked, sitting down, his dad joining her to the left. "Morning Haz." His father grinned lopsidedly, a grin much like Harry's own, glasses steaming up from the hot mug. Harry recited a greeting in return and was about to refuse breakfast on the account of well, running late, when the smell of butter floated up to him and he found himself seated in front of his parents.

"Did you get sore again?" Lily asked, concern lacing her low voice.

"Yeah. I just don't seem to know how." Harry noted, voice muffled from a mouth full of pancakes.

"Slow down, you'll choke." She admonished lightly, shooting James an exasperated look when he snickered a low 'That's what she said' into his morning Daily Prophet.

"He probably needs a new mattress. Let's get one on the weekend." His mother said, earning an affirmative hum from James who was busy with his newspaper.

"I'll get going now. Bye mum, bye dad. See you in the evening." He spoke after having had his share of pancakes and a chat with his mum. He bent down for the customary top-of-the-head kiss from his mother, something she had been doing since Harry started school. And although he wouldn't admit it, he adored this little sentiment. His dad shot him another grin as he walked out of the door, putting in his earphones.

Fortunately for him, the university campus was quite a short bus ride away. However, he still found himself running across the campus from the bus stop to his lecture theatre- he forgot to factor in the fact that the hall today was all on the opposite end of campus.

"Shit," He glanced at his phone, currently glowing 9:21. It was Professor Binns' lecture, and he wasn't too fond of latecomers. Harry counted on his excellent grade in the module, hoping that would pull him through. As he ran across, his peripheral vision noted a mane of red momentarily, but before Harry could turn around and see, he was already in front of the class, digging through the bag for his ID card.

---

"How is it that Binns' lectures keep getting worse through the term?" Ron, the aforementioned best friend groaned.

"Because your attention dwindles further as term moves on." Hermione, the other best friend noted. Harry grinned between the two of them. They were so in love, those oblivious idiots.

Binns' was the only class the three of them took together, and Ron departed for his Victorian Literature module. Harry and Hermione walked to the open amphitheatre, choosing to spend their free half hour which coincided together.

"Oh right. My friend from school is joining today, I was supposed to go show her around. Fancy coming?" Hermione spoke, eyes focused on her text messages. "Sure, I have the rest of the morning free." Harry pursed his lips. Hermione simply nodded and they set off across the campus again after the brief interlude at the theatre.

"Your friend is from school?" Harry asked.

"Yeah- she's a year younger but we were quite close when I was in year 12." She replied, eyes scanning the crowd at in front of the Lifesciences Lab, which was one of the main buildings on campus. "Who are we looking for again?" He imitated the search.

"Redhead, shorter than you." Hermione did not look up from the hoard of people, before her mouth set into a wide grin.

"Ginny! Here!" Hermione waved her arms around, jumping up and down in tandem. Harry couldn't see who Hermione was waving to, but the crowd was being roughly pushed aside as someone made their way towards the pair.

"Hermione! So good to see you!" The woman said, grabbing the older girl into a tight hug and letting go, placing the three of them in a triangular formation.

"Oh my god, I almost forgot to come see you." Hermione said somewhat sheepishly, but Harry wasn't listening. He was staring- no, gaping at the newcomer. Her hair was the exact shade of red as the girl in Harry's dream, and it cascaded down her back in a half up half down style. Her waist was encased in a light yellow sundress, complimenting her red hair. All in all, she was beautiful. Not because of her hair or slender figure, but also because of how her eyes shone as she spoke to Hermione.

"Have I seen you before?" Tumbled out of Harry's mouth before he could stop (or reason), and a pair of bright hazel eyes bore into his own moss green, before glittering again. Ginny simply smiled.

~~~~

And here it is, another AU! I definitely did not plan for this to be a multiple lifetime AU, but Regency!Hinny seemed too good to pass up on. I apologise for what is probably a very poorly written Regency era conversation, my knowledge of it is simply from Bridgerton and Google haha. I decided to keep the end open, just so that you guys can envision your own romance for them! Also, can I just say how I loved writing Lily and James?? It's their little debut in my one-shots yay!

Also, you can find my Ao3 here, where I post quite fluffy Wolfstar one-shots, if that's your thing!

I hope you enjoyed this as usual! Please interact with my pinned TAGLIST post on my account if you wish to be notified of whenever I post Hinny one-shots! Thank you for reading, and big hugs to everyone who loves what I write! Please keep going, it truly makes my day (or week??) xxxx

TAGLIST: @amy-herondale-chase // @purplepygmypuffskein // @ginnypxtter // @alwaysmagica1 // @norakelly // @coffee-fandoms-and-chaos //

#ginny weasley #harry x ginny #harry potter #regency!au #multiple lifetimes #hinny au #hinny fluff #one shot #author #alternate universes #hermione #uni au #open ending #okay out of tags

[missdawnandherdusk]

A Girl’s Choice

Draco X Reader (highschool!AU)

Summary: Everything was absolutely fine in his small town, until you stumbled in and began to defy the status quo.

A/n: So, guess who got Midnight Sun and has been reading it non-stop for the past few days? Me. It was me. So, please enjoy this Twilight Parody of our favorite characters. Also I get to move back to college in like a week and I am EXCITED--mainly because there’s a good chance that I get a room to myself bc of the virus. So yay me. I love you guys a lot and really thank you for your patience and enthusiasm. It makes me smile. 

“So, Gin asked me to the dance this morning,” Harry was chatting you up—a normal occurrence before class started.

Draco didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you. He really didn’t, but he was intrigued about how this would go down. Since moving to the small town, you had been a buzz among the boys in the grade level. Draco could all but assume that most of the fantasized about you asking them to the girl’s choice dance coming up.

“That’s great!” You genuinely smiled. “You’ll have a lot of fun!”

Harry fumbled, losing his casual composure. You noted on it, and your look became more skeptical and judgmental—something Pansy would approve of.

“Well, I told her I’d think about it,”

This surprised Draco as much as it seemed to surprise you. It was no secret that star lacrosse player Weasley and Potter were all but official and had been for almost all of high school.

“Why in the world would you tell her that?” Your words mimicked his thoughts.

“Well... I thought maybe you’d... want to ask me?” He ran a hand through his usually untidy mass of curls.

Draco could not make this up if he wanted to. He barely suppressed the laugh that threatened to escape his lips. How in hell had Harry figured that you’d want to go to the dance with him? You’d been here maybe a month. As far as Draco knew, you weren’t interested in anyone. Perhaps the small town didn’t have enough shine for your city lights.

“You should tell Ginny yes, Harry,” You scolded him like a child. “It’s rude to make a girl wait,”

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry sulked, his face falling as the bell rang, signaling the start of class.

Draco couldn’t wipe the amused smirk from his face. You huffed annoyed and opened your notes, already prepping a new page for today’s lesson. You didn’t pay him any mind during class—a normality between the pair of you. Draco ignored you and you returned the favor. It was almost easier this way for him. Your shiny new toy status had no effect on him. He had every shiny toy he ever wanted. You had no appeal to him.

Harry, however, Draco stole glances over from time to time. The green-eyed jock pouted throughout the entire lesson, stealing glances over to you. You hardly noticed. Instead you were doodling in your notebook, waiting for the teacher to move on.

Maybe the stars aligned, or maybe you did fascinate him, but Draco found himself in the lunch line next to you the following day as another tried to ask you to the girls choice ball.

“So, I heard you turned down Potter,” Cedric gave off-hand. “Waiting to ask someone else then?”

Draco snorted, and this time you did give him the slightest glare before turning back to Cedric.

“I’m not going,” You answered curtly, grabbing fruit from the stand. “And no, I don’t plan on asking anyone.”

“Why aren’t you going?” Cedric almost pouted.

“There doesn’t have to be a reason.” You snapped. “I’m not going,”

Draco could only imagine the glare that you gave Cedric for him to back off so quickly. Again, a smile quirked at his lips. You might be the shiny new toy, but you weren’t going to be used like a porcelain doll.

“So, has she asked anyone yet?” Pansy asked as he sat beside her at their usual lunch table.

“She’s not going, and you totally missed her going off on Diggory,” Draco grinned. “That girl has to have a glare that rivals yours,”

“She turns down Potter and Diggory... do you think maybe she’s into chicks?” Pansy asked almost hopeful.

“Wouldn’t know and don’t care,” Draco shrugged. “Besides, she’s not going to the dance so go ask Greengrass before it’s too late,”

Pansy sulked and stabbed her salad with a bit more vigor than before.

You stormed into the chemistry classroom a bit more irritated than he had seen you in the cafeteria. He wanted to guess that another guy had tried to ask you to the girl’s choice dance because honestly it amused him to see you so upset. It was cute how riled up you could get from some unwanted attention. He wondered how far you’d have to be pushed before you actually started swinging. Maybe he wanted to find out.

“So,” He asked pointedly. “Anyone else try to ask you to the dance?” 

“Oh, fuck off Malfoy,” You hissed making him grin wider.

“Well, I was wondering if—”

“If you even start to finish that, I won’t be so forgiving,” Your hand clenched into a fist and Draco thought that maybe you’d actually try to hit him, but Snape walked in as the bell rang, taking any chance away from you.

Draco sat back smugly in his chair—to your great annoyance—as class droned on. At the end of the hour Draco followed you out, calling your name. You froze in the hallway, before turning to face him.

“I’m really not in the mood right now Draco,” Your strained voice gave a hint of weariness. “What is even with you guys? Can’t you just leave a girl alone? I’m not going to the stupid dance and I’m not just saying that so I can ask someone else,”

Before Draco could get a word in you stalked away, disappearing in the crowd. And he stood there, dumbfounded. Was he not amused an hour ago about your annoyance? Did it not make him smile that you were tortured by your suitors? Why all of a sudden was he frowning and loathing Potter and Diggory—and whatever poor bloke had the unfortunate courage to ask you before class—even more for winding you up?

“It was Krum,” Pansy didn’t even say hello as she sat next to him in Spanish. “He was the one who tried to ask her,”

“She said no to Krum?” Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “You might be right, she really might swing the other way,”

“Aw, but I already asked Daphne,” Pansy pouted.

“Pans, darling, I think if anyone else breathes near her about the dance she’s gonna send someone to the nurse,” Draco chuckled. “So maybe you dodged a bullet there,”

She sighed wistfully. “Still, it’s nice to dream,”

____________________________________

“So, did you ask anyone to the dance yet?”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this,” I huffed, kicking off my shoes. “I’m not going to that stupid dance,”

“Well, I know it’s probably not as glitzy as your uptown shindigs, but you should still go and have fun,” My dad set down his paper. “Make some friends while you’re here,” His tone was hopeful, as I knew it would be.

He wanted me to be happy here. He wanted me to fit in and enjoy my time in the middle of nowhere. It was a farfetched dream. But it was mine, I supposed.

“I have a few friends,” I insisted. “But I’m not one for dances... and the guys in town aren’t exactly... appealing,” I decided.

“Well, not that a father will complain about his daughter not wanting to date, but maybe you should go with a group of friends or something?”

“Everyone’s paired off, dad,” I sighed, looking in the fridge for something to make for dinner.

As I set off to do my chemistry homework, my mind meandered to my chem partner. It was out of character that he spoke to me today. Normally we disregarded another in comfortable silence. It had been that way since I showed up. And though it might have stung a bit in the beginning, I could tell quickly that Draco and his friends were the wrong sort of crowd that I didn’t want to be caught up in. The kind of crowds that I escaped by moving from my city life.

And I liked the crowd I had found; Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were all very sweet and welcoming on my first day and had sort of adopted me into their group without looking back. Not that there was much depth in any of their lunchroom conversations, but at least I wasn’t alone. Hermione was the only one I could hold a conversation with—she had AP classes as I did and was a saint when I needed homework guidance.

Chemistry, however, was the one subject she couldn’t help me with. She had opted out for AP Environmental instead, claiming she had done her time with Snape and would rather dropout than be in his class another year.

So, it left me begrudgingly texting Draco about tonight’s homework. He was the only other one in class that seemed to keep up easily. Maybe it was because he was a shoe shiner class pet of Snape’s.

Malfoy: Oh, so you’re talking to me now. Don’t want yell at me again?

My cheeks flushed in anger and embarrassment at his response. He was never one to hold back what he was thinking—even if it was brutal.

Y/n: I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t fair to you. I’d give a reason, but I doubt you’d care

Malfoy: Pansy already told me that Krum tried to ask you to the dance. That’s what? Three guys now? If I hadn’t stopped her, Pansy wanted to ask you too.

Y/n: At least it would have been a girl asking me to a girl’s choice

Y/n: And you’re short one, Ron asked me too

Malfoy: Weasel? Wow. Never thought he’d have the guts to ask anyone 

Y/n: He’s actually going with Hermione

Y/n: Now will you please help me on 7?

And to my surprise, Draco was quite civil about walking me through the covalent bonding prompts. It made me feel a bit more guilty about snapping at him earlier today.

Seeing how I struggled on the homework, I wasn’t surprised that Harry came over during study hall and asked me for help on the same, if not more, questions. After the first couple, he griped that I was too similar to Hermione for knowing it all. And that it wasn’t fair that it came so easily to me.

“Actually, Draco helped me,” I smiled as I showed my notes to Harry for the next question. “He might help you if you ask,”

That was a long shot. Harry hated Draco and vice versa. It didn’t take me long to figure that one out.

“Malfoy helped you? Like actually helped you?” Harry scoffed. “The little prat,”

“Hey,” I warned snatching my notes away. “If you’re not gonna be nice about it I won’t let you use my notes,”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Harry pouted. “You know I was kidding,”

“Yahuh. Sure Harry,”

“Oh, come on,” Harry tried again. “He’s a prat. Always has been,”

I rolled my eyes, not wanting to hear anymore of Harry’s lamenting, and grabbed my bag. “I’ll be in the library,”

Wordlessly I left, fuming slightly. The music from my headphones thawed out my anger towards Harry a bit as I pushed the doors of the library open and sat at a table, pulling out my calculus homework to go over it one last time.

“This seat taken?”

I barely heard the question over my music. My eyes darted up to meet steady grey ones.

“It’s a free country,” I shrugged then remembered that I want particularly irate towards Draco at the moment. “Thank you, by the way,” I murmured, taking out one of my headphones. “For the chem help,”

“I might have had an ulterior motive,” Draco mumbled, pulling out a binder.

“If you think I’m gonna ask you to the dance because you helped me with my homework you have another thing coming Malfoy,” I warned.

“I think every guy in the school has got that by now,” a smile played at his lips. “No, I... I need help in McGonagall,” He was almost sheepish to admit it.

I raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, but he did seem genuine about needing help.

“I’m not sure I’ll be much help, but I can try. My old teacher, Jones had a different way of explaining it...” I trailed off, a pang of remorse about leaving my old school in my chest.

And maybe the way Jones taught me made more sense to Draco because he did eventually start to understand the calculus on the paper beneath us. I realized that Draco was very methodical. He enjoyed having rules that worked every time no matter the question. A failsafe that kept him ahead of the curve.

“Do you miss it?” He asked as we started to pack for the next hour. 

“Miss what?”

“Your old school? It has to be a lot different than this hell hole,” His words were nonchalant but still skeptical.

“It’s not so bad here,” I defended weakly. “But... I miss it, yeah. I feel like I have to prove myself all over again. Back home—back in New York no one questioned me. The teachers trusted me... the staff knew me...” I sighed. “I’m a stranger here.”

The warning bell rang and the same sense of dread that settled upon me reflected in Draco’s eyes: we were halfway across campus and there was little hope of getting to Snape’s class in the two minutes we had left.

Both scrambling, we headed for the doors and tore down the hall. I followed Draco’s path because if I was honest, I still didn’t quite know my way around the school nor the quickest ways to certain buildings.

“Miss Y/l/n,” Snap looked down disapprovingly at me. “I hope you have reason for being late or it’s Saturday detention for you,”

My anxiety spiked as I fumbled out an explanation. In the corner of my eye, I saw Harry stand, ready to come to my defense, but there was no need. Flawlessly Draco directed the attention of the irritated teacher to him with a sly smile and quick lie, that wasn’t really a lie at all.

“It was my fault,” Draco smoothed quickly. “I was having Y/n help me with McGonagall’s homework and I kept her late.”

Snape’s eyes darted between the two of us before he sighed, telling us to get to our seats before he gave out detentions for disrupting his class.

With a breath of relief, I sat beside Draco. 

“Thank you,” I murmured.

He shrugged and took out his notes and homework just as Snape began to go over it. And we went back to ignoring each other. Except, this time, it deemed impossible for me not to glance at him every so often, or for my eyes not to drift to his notes on the table, making sure that I hadn’t missed anything. The hour seemed to end quicker than normal. As usual, Harry walked to gym with me, chatting about the upcoming game before the dance this weekend.

“So, you and Malfoy?” The comment caught me off guard. “I don’t like it,”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s nothing Harry,” I shrugged. “No need to let your little feud make up wild stories. He just needed help with calc,”

“Sure, the golden boy needed help with his homework,” Harry said flatly. “That’s believable.” 

“And what about it is so farfetched?” I demanded.

“He’s doing it for some reason. He knows you turned me down, maybe he’s trying to get at me by being nice to you,” The offhand comment had my blood boiling.

“Are you serious right now!?” I snapped. “What is so wrong with you that you can’t see past your own ego!?”

Storming off, the only relief from my anger I was allowed happened when I ‘accidentally’ pelted Harry with a ball in the face, sending him to the nurse. When my anger faded, doubt remained. Was Draco only trying to be nice to me to get at Harry? From what I knew of Draco secondhand, I wouldn’t put it past him.

______________________________

Draco was shocked when Snape had called on you for a homework answer, and you admitted that you didn’t know. Didn’t you know that he didn’t mind you texting him about the homework? That helping you wasn’t the worst waste of his time in the world? You had done it before. Not days ago. And yet you allowed yourself to be ridiculed by Snape for your lack of habitual knowledge.

You didn’t notice the small frown that lingered on his face for the remainder of class as you kept your head down and doodled in your notebook. Deciding that he didn’t like your comatose, he did something that deemed childish: he passed you a note.

You ok?

You stared at the paper and looked over at him, biting your lip before scribbling: 

Fine. Pay attention.

Rolling his eyes, he took the paper back and wrote:

I can’t if you’re over here moping.

You took the small piece of paper and crumpled it in your hands, shoving it into your bag. Draco decided to leave you alone for the rest of the hour his curiosity still burning through him. A quick meeting of Harry’s livid stare, and Draco had a better idea of what was going on. He just hoped, for perhaps the first time ever, that he was wrong.

“Oi, what the hell did you say to Y/n?” Draco demanded, singling Potter out in the hall the next morning.

His curiosity and suspicions had festered over the night. Draco had made the conscious decision to text you, asking if you needed help with chem, and your lack of response had him worrying again.

“What are you going on about Malfoy?” Ron crossed his arms, coming to Harry’s defense.

“Stay out of this weasel,” Draco hissed, noticing the crowd that began to gather around the small confrontation. Most of his attention, however stayed focused on cold green eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Malfoy,” Harry tipped his chin back. “What? Is she not bowing down at your feet like you’re used too?” A laugh barked out of him and Weasley and a few other onlookers.

“At least she’s got enough self-respect to not be on her knees for you,” Draco heard the familiar condescending voice of Pansy beside him. A grin curled onto his face at her words.

Harry didn’t know what to say to that it seemed, and it further proved Draco’s suspicions. 

“So, you did say something to her,” He accused. “She got her not a month ago and you’re already dragging her into our mutual hatred?” Draco wouldn’t stoop that low. It was pathetic. 

“Well if you hadn’t gone and pretended to need help with McGonagall’s work, there wouldn’t be a problem,” Harry gritted, as if he had the high ground.

“As opposed to you who pretends he doesn’t need help them blames others when he fails?” Draco snapped.

There was quite a large crowd gathering around now, and he and Harry were less than a foot apart. Both boys were on the verge of snapping.

“Draco?”

Your voice was enough to distract him that he didn’t see Harry throw the first punch. Pain blistered across his jaw as fury burned in his eyes. Now the kids around them were chanting and egging on the fight. But Draco never had the chance to swing back.

Because you had drove yourself into the cleared circle and delivered a few punches of your own.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” You shouted at him kneeing him in the groin leaving him keeled over, groaning. “I told you to back the fuck off!”

Draco wasn’t as surprised at the comment as he was about the knowledge that you knew how to beat the pulp out of a star football player without a whim. You never seemed like the athletic type but the blood pouring from Harry’s nose begged that you were slightly more dangerous than Draco had originally thought.

“Are you okay?” Your wild worried eyes were trained on him.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” He didn’t mean for the words to be so harsh, but the hurt that flickered across your face made him regret them.

He wished he had time to explain exactly why you shouldn’t have done that, but McGonagall and Snape were already upon the scene and threatening detentions. He and Harry, of course, were called out as the other students scattered.

“McGonagall, please,” You stood loyally beside him, despite his harsh words. “Draco didn’t have a hand in this, I did.”

Both teachers raised their eyebrows in surprise. Draco just gaped at you. Harry was glaring and still bleeding.

“I see. All three of you go to Dumbledore’s office.” She said, her careful eyes not leaving yours.

Harry strode off first, perhaps feeling smug in the fact that either way, you or Draco would be in trouble for this encounter. Draco wondered if you knew you had just bought yourself three days suspension for fighting.

You were silent beside him as you flexed your hand. He pondered if you had hurt it in your fervor. He almost asked you. Then he remembered the hurt on your face at his last words and decided against it. You wouldn’t want to talk to him.

“So,” Dumbledore said pointedly. “I heard there was a bit of a skirmish today in the hall,” An amused smile sat upon the principal’s face, no doubt taking in Harry’s state. Draco wondered if his skin was bruising yet.

“It was me,” Draco said not realizing what he was doing.

“Oh, don’t you even,” You were scathing at him, your hands clenched again, pain flitting across your face—you definitely hurt your hand then. You turned to Dumbledore. “Harry swung at Draco and I stepped in. I’m the one who did it.”

“Mr. Potter?” Dumbledore raised an ancient eyebrow.

Harry seemed like he was debating whether or not he wanted to admit getting beat up by a girl. The thought made Draco smile, causing his jaw to hurt. He tried to flex it but halted when pain blossomed again.

“That’s what happened,” Harry admitted under his breath.

“And why, Mr. Malfoy, did Potter swing at you?” Dumbledore turned to him, an amused smile lingering on his face.

“I thought that Harry had said something to her that hurt her. She... wasn’t keeping up on homework and it was unlike her. After she turned Harry’s proposal to the dance down, I thought...”

“You turned down Mr. Potter’s proposal to the girl’s choice dance?” The principal turned back to you.

“His, Weasley’s, Cedric’s, Viktor’s,” You muttered, much to Dumbledore’s delight as the older man began to chuckle.

“Had quite a welcome here, haven’t you?”

“You could say that again,” Folding your arms, your face became solemn. 

“And do you have a reason for your actions?”

“I don’t like bullies, no matter where they come from,” Confidence founded your voice as you squared your shoulder. Never once had Draco ever heard someone call Harry a bully. The words had always been reversed. Everyone in the school saw the reputation in Draco, never Harry.

“Well, under normal circumstances, I’d have to suspend you and Mr. Potter here, but instead, I’m suspending you from being allowed to the dance this weekend. All three of you,”

“But sir!” Harry argued.

“Not another word Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore rose from his office chair. “My decision is final.”

Three ‘yes sir’s were mumbled as the three of you filed out of the office. You began to walk away, towards your next class Draco assumed, but he caught your non-injured hand, Harry slinking away himself.

“Let me go,” You shrugged him off.

“Wait,” Draco caught up to you, blocking you in the narrow hall of the office. “Look, about what I said,”

“Forget it Draco,” You snapped, and he could see unshed tears in your eyes. “Just leave me alone,” You pressed past him with a bit more force than necessary that had him after you again.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He called, and you actually paused, your head turning in interest.

“Then what did you mean?” Your voice with thick. “Cuz all I see is a rich little prat who can’t say thank you. Or a self-centered guy who thinks I need someone to fight my battles for me. A high and mighty guy who thinks he can tell me what to do,” Your words were sharp and snarled. “So please, tell me what you meant.” The challenge dripped dangerously from your scowl.

“I...” Draco fumbled for the right words. “I’m not worth getting suspended for,” Your anger turned to confusion, turned sympathy, turned neutral.

“But I’m worth fighting for,” It was a stubborn and bold declaration. “And I know that,” A pause as you turned to leave. “So yeah, I should have done that,”

___________________________

I couldn’t help the tears that streamed down my face as I nearly ran to the parking lot, yearning for the safety of my car. Slamming the door shut, I let out a frustrated yell and slumped in the seat.

The backroads under my tires held a calming solace as I drove the long way home. It was something that New York couldn’t replace: the backroads I had grown up on. With the windows down and the radio blaring, all of my thoughts were tuned out.

At a red light, I found the courage to call my father and explain what happened. He said I was grounded this weekend for fighting, but I didn’t mind much. It got me out of having to go to the dance, even if Dumbledore hadn’t already said I couldn’t. I smiled when my dad told me he was proud for standing up for myself and beating the hell out of Harry.

I found myself smiling as I pulled in at home. Icing my hand and popping some pain killers just in case, I scrolled through my notifications, only answering Hermione. I didn’t care what the school gossiped about or what rumors started because of the fight. Hermione just wanted to know if I was okay and if I’d want her to send the homework from the classes I missed. I told her yes to both and thanked her.

Another notification popped up.

Draco: are you okay? how’s your hand?

I stared at the notification, and instead of deleting the icon like I should have, I opened it and gazed at the words. His mood swings were giving me whiplash. I thought about ignoring it, but he had already seen that I had read it. Cursing modern technology, I responded.

Y/n: fine

Mulling it over, I sent another text.

Y/n: can you send me the chem homework? please

The messages that followed were unexpected. Steady and clear photos of his notes for the day— and week it looked like—as well as the worksheet Snape had given. I felt a pang if gratitude towards Draco in that moment and his words from earlier settled in.

Draco has confronted Harry because he was worried about me. Somehow, he had picked up on how Harry’s words had affected me and driven me into doubt and a few missing homework assignments. Tears sprung back up in my eyes without my consent. It left me regretting the words I had snapped at him earlier. I let him know as much with another text.

Draco: most of it was justified

Draco: I know I’m not the easiest person to know 

Y/n: I was still wrong to say it. I’m sorry

Y/n: and you’re not so bad :)

There wasn’t a response from him for half an hour, so I settled down and began to transcribe his notes into my own notebook, then began to untangle the questions that the worksheet gave me. The crumpled note from a few days ago spilled out of my bag. I took it, unfurling it, running my hand over his words. I tucked it in my chemistry binder, smiling softly at his kindness.

Anxiety fluttered in my chest the next day as I drove up to school and parked in my usual spot. I felt torn between two clicks—probably the only two clicks this school had, and I had managed to get caught in the middle of a turf war—the thing that I wanted to escape by moving back in with my dad and I still managed to find myself in the same situations. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was the problem.

Shaking the thought, I headed to first hour just as the bell rang in my efforts to avoid confrontation. Other than a few approving comments from my sorta friends, no one seemed put out that I had fought their golden boy. It eased my anxiety as the day went on. I was quelled a bit more when I heard that Harry wasn’t in school today. And maybe I smiled at that a bit.

“The jackass deserved it,” Ginny shrugged, “If you hadn’t shown up, I wouldn’t have hesitated either,”

She calmed the majority of my fears with her words unknowingly. If there had been one person I didn’t want to cross it was Ginny—she was fierce and took no prisoners. If the school had a queen bee, it would have been Gin.

“Is your hand alright?” Luna asked during art class. “You seem a bit off your game today,” She noticed my failing live portrait.

Luna was always quiet but observant of others, and it drew me towards the peaceful girl. Her calm nature as well as my fierce need to protect her from bullies kept me as her partner despite the seat changes in Trelawney’s art class. The teacher didn’t seem to care as Luna and I were some of her best students although Luna’s whimsical style contrasted my realistic preference heavily.

“It hurts a bit,” I answered truthfully. “But not enough to cry about,” There were yellow and purplish tinges to my knuckles, but nothing was broken.

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Luna semi-whispered. “Are you and Draco together?”

“No,” I answered a bit more harshly than I meant and refined my answer. “I was tired of Harry being an egotistical ass and dragging me into it,”

“He’s probably just jealous,” Luna gave offhand, adding some shading to her sketch. “Boys are like that,”

“Jealous? Of what?” I scoffed. “He’s with Ginny, and it’s not like I fancy anyone at this school,”

“Yes, I heard about all the failed proposals to the dance.” A smile touched her lips, “Regardless, from the outside, the only person you’ve shown interest in is Draco, and Harry doesn’t like it,”

“Well, he needs to get over it,” I muttered. “I’m not some prize to be won,”

My annoyance didn’t fade as I slumped into my seat at lunch, grateful that Harry was absent today because I might have just gone off on him again. Stupid teenage boys thinking they have some claim over a girl.

Harry was back the next day, looking worse for wear. I went to apologize, but he didn’t allow me too, saying he deserved it and the he was the one who was sorry. I wondered if Ginny had a hand in his apology. Shrugging, I decided it didn’t matter. At least Harry, and maybe everyone else at the small school, knew that I could handle myself.

The weekend passed, and I didn’t notice much. Hermione sent me a few pictures of the dance. They held no interest to me, but at least they were having fun.

On Monday, it seemed that Draco had gone back to ignoring me. At least that’s how it appeared for about the first half of Snape’s lecture. Then every so often I’d catch him staring at me, or my notes. His eyes would quickly dart down when he realized that I had noticed his gazes. It left me frowning and struggling to focus.

It was Wednesday that Hermione and I talked about the calculus test coming up on Friday. I glanced over to Draco, wondering if he’d need help or a study partner for the exam. I wondered if he’d be too proud to ask. Or if I’d be too stubborn to offer.

“Go over there and ask,” Hermione nudged my arm, picking up on my train of thought.

“I shouldn’t,” I shook my head. “Besides, you’d be a better tutor than I am,”

“Yes, but Draco doesn’t like me. You on the other hand,” An amused smile lingered on her face.

“We’re friends,” I insisted. “That’s all,”

“More than it was last week,” She pointed out. “Draco’s always been a stuffy prat, but I see how he is with you. He’s almost... normal.”

My eyes shifted back over to his lunch table, where he was hunched over a book, tuning out the dark-haired girl beside him as she prattled about something adamantly. Something the girl said must have caught Draco’s attention, perhaps she warned him about my gaze, because his eyes met mine. I looked down quickly, my cheeks flushing.

“He’s coming over,” Hermione whispered.

“Stop staring,” I hissed under my breath, breaking my own rule by looking up.

“Can I talk to you?” His voice was quiet and guarded, his eyes sliding over my company. 

“What’s up?” I asked casually.

“Alone?”

I looked to Hermione who was saying if I didn’t go, she’d never forgive me with a single look.

“Sure,” I stood, gathering my things and followed him out of the cafeteria and down the halls, to the library. “Did you want help for the calc test Friday?” I asked softly as we sat at the same table as our previous encounter.

“Well, yes,” He chuckled softly. “I... also wanted to talk to you... about last week, and...” His eyes refused to meet mine. I waited in silence for him to continue. “This... this doesn’t have to be anything, and I know you’d probably rather it weren’t... but I’ve never actually...”

I raised my eyebrows, leaning closer to him, the butterflies in my chest growing more restless with each second that passed. They had begun to arrive on the day of the fight, and now it seemed like they were taking flight for the first time.

“You came here a month ago... and in that time have managed to capture every guys heart in this school and then proceeded to turn most of them down. You’ve gotten into fights and out of trouble and you’re really someone I should avoid, but... I don’t want to, not anymore.”

“You think you should avoid me?” The question was soft on my lips. His eyes flashed to mine in brief panic.

“Again, not what you think,” He sighed and scrubbed his face, then proceeded to wince at the pain that no doubt was triggered by his action. “I should avoid you because if I’m being honest, I’m not much better than Harry, and I wouldn’t be someone you’d want to be with. And it would make it easier for the both of us if I avoided you.”

“Cards on the table then?” I mused softly and he nodded, begging my candor. “I know what they say about you. And I have my own opinions, but...” I paused and smiled. “You are the first guy who hasn’t acted like an arrogant jackass to me,” Then mended, “At least in a way that hasn’t made me want to deck you,”

“That’s comforting,” A smile reached his eyes this time.

“And... if it had to be anyone... I’d probably want it to be you,” This surprised him, told by the expression on his face. “In terms of intelligence, I feel semi-confident to say that you wouldn’t drive me mad with your lack of knowledge, because most of the kids at this school are so dull,” I muttered then continued. “You’ve been kind to me, and never pushed me into doing anything I haven’t wanted to do,”

“So, you wanted to beat the shit out of Potter then?” The same smile turned to a grin.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” I chuckled softly. “You gave me a valid excuse, to which I thank you,”

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you? For ya know, being my knight in shining armor coming to my rescue?”

I laughed at his words and shook my head at his antics.

“Does that make you my damsel in distress?” It never occurred to me how easy it might be to talk to Draco, considering we’d barely said a word to each other since my arrival.

“If I must be,” He feigned distaste, the smile not leaving his face long enough to convince me of his façade.

A silence fell between us.

“Is this something then?” His words were riddled with uncertainty.

“It’s not nothing,” I offered. “But I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Would you be willing to see what it is?” Draco’s voice turned hopeful.

“If you’re willing to be patient,” My eyes met his grey ones, storms above the seas held in them. “I don’t really... date. Flings and a list of exes isn’t really on my bucket list ya know?”

“Understandable,” His smile returning. “Not that I prefer them either,”

I sighed softly. “People are gonna talk, if they’re not already,” It was a defeating thought.

“Let them talk,” Draco shrugged, lost in thought. “That’s all they do. No matter where you go,”

“It’s a bit worse in a small town,” I challenged.

“I’ll give you that,” He chuckled. “But things are a bit less scandalous in a small town,”

“Granted,” I thought of New York and how the smallest things morphed into rumors and gossip that took down empires. Here, in the middle of nowhere our problems seemed almost trivial.

“So,” He raised an eyebrow at me, awaiting my verdict.

“So,” I mimicked. “This... this can be something,”

 ______________________________

Draco had never once thought of dating. Ever. Whereas Pansy couldn’t wait to have her next summer love, Draco... he was reserved. Not that he ever held it against Pansy, and of course he was there to curse the name of her exes with her, but him dating? It was laughable.

He could claim that ‘you weren’t like other girls,’ but it’d be a lie. You were just the perfect mix of being like other girls that appealed to him so much. The girls he had passed in the halls for years and never once felt attraction to were now suddenly a bit more interesting. Granger had calculus with you and was very good at the subject, sharing your passion for it. Ginny had the same fire in her eyes as you did when you were angry. Even Lovegood seemed less like a spaz and a bit more down to earth in the few passing moments that he saw her when picking you up from art class.

“I might warn you,” he whispered gently the next day, hand in yours as you headed to the cafeteria. “Pansy has been dying to talk to you... so heads up,”

A laugh fell through your lips as he opened the door for you, the cafeteria, once buzzing solemnly was now almost hushed as eyes turned to the couple at the door.

“Oi! Malfoy!”

Draco tensed at the curt calling of his name but relaxed when you smiled and waved to Ginny.

“Come sit with us,” The redhead offered. “No need in you taking Y/n away from us,”

“Get Pansy,” You smiled, letting his hand go as you went to drop your stuff at the table before heading toward the lunch line.

“Can I talk to her now?” Pansy demanded.

“She’s all yours,” Draco chuckled, trailing behind his dark-haired friend, a smile resting on his face as you entertained all of Pansy’s question with unbelievable grace.

Tensions were high as Draco sat with you at your usual lunch table, Pansy on his other side, but it seemed that you, Ginny, and Hermione had the boys under control, so nothing more than loathsome glares were exchanged before the conversation settled into something pleasant.

It took a couple weeks, but the bruises on your hand and his jaw faded, then soon Harry’s broken nose was healed, and it was as if nothing had ever happened. As if it were preposterous that your group ever had animosity against another.

True to your word and his, it wasn’t exactly dating. He dedicated a lot of his effort to figuring out what you were comfortable with and what you weren’t. Something that appealed to both of you was holding hands in the hallways. The gawking faces of those around you seemed to keep a smile on your face. You had tamed the rich prat and he had tamed the spitfire in their eyes. And perhaps he was a bit kinder to those around him. And maybe you weren’t as volatile. Maybe you had finally settled into the small town.

Slowly it seemed, you sifted into the role of a girlfriend—well, whatever the equivalent was for you and him. It took some coaxing and a compromise, but you allowed him to pick you up and drive you to school—three out of five days of the week. He looked forward to those mornings and didn’t mind leaving earlier as long as you were at the end of the road under his tires. You were defiant about him paying for things, mundane things like lunch or random gifts, so he tried to keep it at a minimum, or at least didn’t let on how much he had spent on you.

Draco was never one for physical affection. His parents had been distant and reserved. Closed off. He wasn’t bitter about it, but he was worried that it might affect how he was around you. But it seems that you were a bit standoffish as well. The abrasion faded over time, but it was still never over abundant. You held his hand, that was easy and almost routine for the both of you, and though he hadn’t kissed you yet, displays of make outs in the halls never appealed to any part of him. Ever.

But he wouldn’t forget the first time you kissed him. It was a quiet night at your place after you two had studied for Snape’s final. You declared if you looked at another carbon bond you were going to scream, so you slammed your binder shut and led him to the old sofa and pulled him down, both of you nestled beside another as you flickered through TV stations, settling on something that held half your interest.

His arm draped around your shoulder, a gentle sign of affection that you returned by resting your head on his shoulder, your arm stretching across his stomach, holding him. His hand absentmindedly played in your hair, earning soft sounds of agreement from your lips as he continued. Your exhausted face in the TV light held all of his interest. The way your eyelashes fluttered eleven your eyes changed focus, or the way you worried your lip now and again almost thoughtlessly. Never knowing that it drove him mad.

Draco called your name softly, earning your attention. Your faces were inches apart and he could feel your soft breaths mix with his. Your eyes searched his for something—what exactly he wasn’t sure. But you must have decided that whatever you found was enough, because you leaned up and closed the distance between your lips and his.

He smiled at the moment and the ones that followed. The desire that built in his chest and the gentle pant of need that left your lips, flushing across his as you pulled away.

“Thank you,” You had murmured.

He smiled at you simple gratitude and wondered why you thought it necessary. Did you believe that he didn’t want to kiss you? That you weren’t constantly in his psyche? Imagining how soft and warm your skin must be? Wondering if the rest of you was worked and scarred like your hands from years of use?

Not knowing what you were thinking—or why he was for that matter—he pulled you into his lap as the two of you sat on the couch, cradling you close, letting you know that he craved your affection though he wasn’t the best at portraying the ideal.

You had fallen asleep in his lap that night. When your dad came in to check on the two of you, Draco thought your father would be furious but instead he smiled and suggested that Draco carry you to your room so that you could stretched out on your bed and sleep for the night. Those were the few moments that Draco had ever been in your room. It was one of your fathers rules—which he humbly agreed to. The sight made him smile. It was perfectly you. An organized chaos of all of your favorite things.

You barely noticed him setting you into your bed and pulling the covers over your shoulders after removing you shoes.

He preferred your home over his. It took about two months before you coaxed him into the idea of meeting his parents formally. Draco was terrified, knowing that his parents disapproved just about everyone in the town they lived in, save a few families. He wasn’t sure how they felt about the divorcee and his daughter living on the outskirts of town.

“You understand how much of a bad idea this is?” Draco hissed as he walked you up the front steps of the pristine farmhouse—it was the last attempt he made before it was too late to back out.

“They’re just your parents,” You took his hand, saying the words nonchalantly.

“That’s why I’m worried! They’re my parents!” He dismayed.

“Dray, love, it’s gonna be okay,” You reassured, and he couldn’t argue with the honesty in your eyes.

You’d never stop surprising him. He didn’t think ever. He knew his parents were hard people to entertain. There were thousands of unspoken rules that they forced him to follow and you picked up on them as easily as you knew calculus. Sit one way, speak another, you blended in flawlessly. Your persona differed from the one he knew, but it was still perfectly you.

“And you moved here? From New York?” His father eyed you skeptically.

 “Father—” A cold look silenced Draco.

“Yes sir,” Your smile was sweet and conniving.

“Was the city not satisfactory for you?”

“It had a certain charm,” You spoke softly. “But I didn’t want to give my teenage years to a concrete jungle when I could call here my home,”

“Well,” Draco’s mother cut in before his father had a change to reply. “You sure do have quite a spirit in you. I can see what our Draco likes about you,”

You smiled and looked over at him. The blush on your cheeks matched his.

“Thank you,”

Lunch came and passed. If it was out of the ordinary in any way to you, you gave no sign.

You did however, pause, gazing at his grand piano that sat in the drawing room, your face pensive.

“You play?” He mused, curious. You hadn’t let on if your hidden talent. 

“Not very well,” You muttered back. “It’s been years.”

“Y/n, do you play my dear?” His mother cut in. “You must play for us,”

“I...” Glancing at the piano, you caught your lip in worry.

“Mother, if she isn’t comfortable, she doesn’t have to,” Draco defended.

“No, it’s alright... you must forgive me, it’s been a few years since I’ve played properly.”

The shy smile on your face didn’t fade as you made your way to the instrument. He shadowed you all the while, asking one more time before you began to play.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Your smile turned warmer. “It’ll be alright.”

Draco watched as you placed your hands on the glossy white keys and fell into a pattern as they searched for the next note, the next chord, the next verse. And you kept forging ahead until your piece had come to an end. Draco should have known that you’d lie about having the talent tucked away.

“That was lovely,” His mother fawned from somewhere behind. “Draco you must play with her,”

The eyebrow you raised at him informed him that maybe he also hid the talent from you unintentionally. Who did you think the piano belonged to?

“Any ideas?” He muttered softly, placing his hands on the keys next to yours.

“Moonlight Sonata?” It was a simple request, and one that he knew decently enough to nod.

Draco began the repetitive harmony as you waited for the melody and joined him. Your fingers played in time and in tune as the song unfolded—your hands trailing along the treble clef and his adding in the deeper bass tones.

It wasn’t until one of his hands ran into yours that the dance faltered, and four hands banged on the keys in frustration. Draco laughed at the simple fact that you had the same response to making a mistake as he did while playing. Your soft laughter joined his.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and you both turned, meeting the scrutinizing gaze of his father. Draco looked down anxious and respectful and you followed suit, your hand finding his in reassurance.

“Perhaps if you two had more time to practice together, you two wouldn’t be tripping over another.” His father mused.

“Father?” Draco looked up. “Does that mean?”

“Yes, she is welcomed here any time she wishes.” His father gave a small smile.

 Relief flooded through both of you. Draco might have even slouched momentarily. 

.

Masterlist

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Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87@artemismohr18@whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda@bitemebro522@zombiesnips-blog@savingdraco@welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180@slytherin-emerald@memalfoy-spidey @queenfeatherwings@fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans@darling-im-not-okay-i-promise  @dietkiwi @katsukink@takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen@hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur@belcvayelena@moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx@cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte@braelynn-j @jiggllyy@honeymarvel @darcypotter-blog@atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss@lottie289 @boredashaeck@beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread  @okaydraco @the-queen-of-hell-things @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @sunflowerxsadnessw @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread @gweaslvy @strawberriesonsummer @gaysludge @cleopatera @ray-of-sunrise @artist-bby @shadowsingeraxolotl @quillsareforwriting @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo @wollymalfoy @lilpieceoftoast  @paper-cats @floweryjh @sdicapriox @peachesandpinks @hufflautia @livize75 @annie-mcl @riathearora @live-like-luna @justathoughtfulangel @coconutdawn @skteaiy @wannabeskinny-thinspo @naughtygranger @queenofmankind @dragonsandbread @abundantxadorations @moony-artnstuff @myforeveryoungblog @and-then-a-girl-with-luv @1-800-luvsick @pandas-rice-field @strawberriesonsummer @jjustsomerandomgirl @mrvlfangirl3190 @in-slytherin-we-trust @emmaa-t @introvertedrae @infinity1o1 @stoleurmomsvan @echpr @sunkissed-hufflepuff @dekulover @marshmallowtraver @cereuselle @lonely-skywalker @xlosttdreamss @sleepysnapesnake @hoeforthefictional @coldlilheart @helen-paris @romance-geek @rosie-starlit-sky @californiaa-babyy @vulture-withafile @hogstupefy @littlepanda-love @eveft @iraniq @groovyfluxie @cool-weirdo-wannabee-author @siriusblackdies @in-slytherin-we-trust @rosegold-thorns @criminaly-supernatural​

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x gryffindor!reader #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x oc #draco x you #draco x #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter #harry potter reader insert #harry potter rewrite #harry potter request #redeem draco malfoy #redeem slytherin #pansy parkinson #twilight #midnight sun #ravenclaw #ravenclaw x slytherin #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #slytherin x gryffindor #slytherin #ron weasley #hermione granger #gryffindor #severus snape #snape

[courtlyharlequin]

Hey!! I was wondering if i can have a candied rose frappuccino with floyd please. Thanks 😊

Sugar Addict

Warning(s): mild spice, lowkey spicy ending

A/N: I went feral. What is plot? I ended up writing more than expected. Also, I was too lazy to proofread so I apologize for my horrible grammar. Feel free to correct me! I should probably get a beta reader... 

Context: This is an AU. Yes, a coffeeshop AU, but some things are different. These characters are aged up and NRC is actually a college.

It was unexplainable, this feeling. Twilight. The sun was setting. Traffic ensued streets as people poured out of work and into their vehicles, all with one destination: home. But for you, home was the last place you wanted to go. You were a student who did not need to fret over something like a job. You had the convenience of asking for a ride or traveling by foot to reach local destinations not far from your oh so prestigious school. At this moment, at twilight, you were experiencing the convenience of the latter. Well, a normal person would not call it a convenience. These days made taking a stroll an absurd pastime. But right now, it was both a convenience and a pastime. The roads were clogged by a massive sea of cars. Your nose crinkled at the stench of gasoline. Choosing to traverse by foot was more pragmatic. You were in a rush as well. Your destination might close any minute now!

From the inside of any of the vehicles on the street, you were akin to a hooligan. A scrambling, mad hooligan. Not only were you running in the opposite direction of where these cars were going, you were also running as your life depended on it. Therefore, you were a crazy person who was running into the city suburbs at a somewhat late hour rather than going home. Mothers in said vehicles shook their heads in dismay, praying their children were safe at home. But, you could not care any less. Night Raven College’s headmaster was very lenient on curfews and was susceptible to bribery if all else fails. But to be fair, your destination was not something to be frowned upon. It was something to laugh at, really. The place you were so desperate to get to was none other than a café.

More specifically, Café Rosé . Cheesy, chessy, yes, you were aware. The café was notorious for their supposed love potion of a latte, but you weren’t coming for that. You wanted to try their Candied Rose Frappuccino. You were a lover of all sweets; You could never live with yourself if you didn’t try it. Of course, this coffee shop was not going anywhere nor was this beverage a limited one. You simply were in the mood for it. It was craving, a whim, a last minute decision.

You sighed heavily, leaning against the café’s exterior walls. With one deep breath, you pushed the rose-tinted glass door open. The chime signaled your entrance. You braced yourself for a  barista to question your hazed, flushed state… but it never came. Still heaving, you scanned the shop. You made your way to the counter to check for employees in the back room.

Thud!

“Hey, Shrimpy! Café’s closed,” a voice glowered.

You spun your heel, making eye contact with a barista with a disheveled appearance– his aquamarine hair was slightly unkempt, his tie was unraveled and dangled loosely around his neck, dress shirt unbuttoned down to the point where his collar bone was exposed with his sleeves rolled up which furthermore accentuated his lean yet muscular figure. It was all too much to take in. He put his weight onto the nearest table. Ah, the thud came from a chair he just stacked… but nevermind that-!! The moment he moved into that position, he exposed a bit of his cleavage. Hot damn he might be lean at first glance, but he was built like a Greek god. This should be illegal! A barista should not be dressing– let alone be looking– like that. Everyone would suffer from a cardiac arrest from such a heartthrob! You quickly averted your attention to the café’s schedule.

“The business hours sign says you guys close at seven. It’s six fifty-two right now,” you said, holding up your phone.

“Close enough. Get lost.”

He walked over to you suavely, leaning over you and against the door frame to flip the open-closed sign over so that it’s closed side faced the streets. It was meant to be a gesture of mockery and intimidation, but holy hell… you were flustered more than anything. He was tall from afar but up close he was huge!! You even got a better look at his chest. Well defined, if you don’t say so yourself. Wait–

You shoved him back, “Not even for a to-go order?”

“Nope. Don’t feel like it.”

“But you’re not closed yet!”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Why?”

“What?”

“I asked you ‘why’?”

“Can’t you just come back tomorrow and let me call it a day? I’m tired.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

“I ran all the way here just to get something–”

“Should’ve done it earlier,” he shrugged, returning to his chore.

“Okay. Fine. Is there anyone else here to serve me? Since you’re too ‘tired’?”

“Sorry, Shrimpy, but they all went home.”

“Ugh! Don’t call me something that makes us seem so familiar. I’m not that short anyway...” you huffed.

He snickered, walking behind the register, “Alright then, Shr-im-p-y~! What would you like to order that you just had to come in at the last minute today?”

While you were relieved he gave into serving you a drink, the way he enunciated your unwanted nickname was irksome.

“I’ll have one Candied Rose Frappuccino.”

“Oh thank god it isn’t that latte.”

“You mean the Rosé Latte?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, loudly tapping on the cash register, “Everyone has been flocking here and only ordering that. I’m so tired of making the same order everyday.”

“Sorry, I’m not into hot beverages. Just a person who likes sweets.”

“Cute,” he cooed, handing you your receipt.

You watched as he messily wrote “Shrimpy” onto your cup.

“Can I get your name?” you asked.

“My name?”

“Yeah.”

“What for?”

“Somehow you’re slowly becoming my favorite barista.”

Partially a lie, partially the truth. He was your favorite because he was so fine. You only wanted his name in case you ever decided to write a review on your bitter first meeting with him or if you came across the manager. Petty, yes, but it annoyed you that much.

“Floyd, Floyd Leech,” he grinned.

You checked the receipt and sat down at the barstools in front of the barista’s worktable, watching him intently as he began to work on your order. Well, half your attention was actually on his hand movements. Your mind was having an internal battle about how shameful you were to fantasize about his back muscles, mentally undressing him. The fact that there were only you two in the coffeehouse did not help either. The silence, at its surface, was calming, but, at its core, it was awkward. With the occasional clinks of utensils and the sound of coffee being brewed and blended into a frappuccino,  the lack of noise left your mind to wander.

“Just because he’s good looking does not make up for the fact that he was rude,” you chided yourself.

Floyd cocked his head: “Hey. What are you staring at?”  

He looked behind him as if there was actually something of interest. You saw your drink in his hand. He held it close to his chest, withholding it, waiting for your answer.

“Oh? Um.. nothing? I was just zoning out. I’m tired from running all the way here.”

“Shrimpy’s no fun,” he pouted.

“My name is (y/n), not Shrimpy.”

“You’re short, jumpy, and huggable like a shrimp~”

“I am not that short!”

“Oh-!!! You remind me of Goldfish. You both get so mad for some reason,” he laughed.

“Listen here–”

The barista took a swig of your order. He didn’t take the dome-shaped lid out. He didn’t even drink it with a straw. He just… straight up… put his lips on the lid and drank the contents from the rim. You halted your rant, appalled by his audacity.

“You talk too much, Shrimpy.”

In this total silence, someone, if there were someone here, would have heard your sanity and patience snapped.

“Listen here, Floyd Leech. That was awfully rude of you. Actually, from the beginning, you were so rude! From getting into my personal bubble to calling me names when I told you to stop. And now you drink my order? And right in front of me too?! So, so, rude-!!! I just–”

“Wow. What an expansive vocabulary you have,” he glared, twiddling with the collar of his shirt and somehow exposing more of his collarbone.

You leaned over the counter, reaching for your beverage, heat traveling up your cheeks, “I’m not done yet! Just because you’re hot does not mean you can dress like that and automatically get a free pass to do these things! Do you have any idea how distracting that was?? Now–wHAAA!!”

You pounced at him. Your toes hung on the edge of the barstool, your left arm wrapped around Floyd’s neck, and your right arm stretched out in an attempt to reach the drink in Floyd’s hand. Much to your annoyance, he raised it higher than you could ever hope to reach. If he took anymore steps back, you would most likely flop onto the barista’s side of the table face-first. With the drink in his left hand, his weight (and yours) was shifted onto his right arm which conveniently propped itself against the countertop behind him. You wondered what people on the road thought when they saw what was going on inside the café.

It was early evening with a decent amount of cars on the street before the storefront. Nearly twenty minutes since you came into the café and here you are– without your order, curfew approaching steadily, and no sign of getting your frappuccino anytime soon. Instead, you were sprawled across the counter, a test of your flexibility and modesty.

“I didn’t really think Shrimpy was this bold, this naughty,” Floyd chuckled.

Ah shit. Your anger got the best of you. Your verbal filter was removed and all of your thoughts slipped past your conscious and common sense. His sly grin did not help at all. Your close proximity enhanced your blush. The way you clung onto him caused his shirt to slide off his left shoulder and with the position you were in, you had a front seat to all his glory. What a sticky wicket this was.

“I just wanted something sweet to drink,” you panted, fisting his shirt in your petite palms, frustration washing over you.

You were on the verge of tears. Floyd sighed, lowering the cup just a bit, and took a few steps back as he carefully let you slide onto the barista’s side of the counter. However, your beverage was still out of reach.

“You’re such a snowflake,” he mumbled.

You clung to him, still, using him as leverage to reach your order, “Am not. This wouldn’t have happened if you just let me have my coffee!”

“You mean this hell of a sugary confection??”

“Yes? I mean I wouldn’t know because I haven’t even tried it yet,” you grunted, jumping at it like a fish trying to catch the bait.

“Oi, (y/n), can I kiss you?”

That was the first time he used your actual name instead of “Shrimpy” ever since you met. You would rejoice, but the following words were out of the question. His tone made it sound more like a demand than a request of consent.

“Excuse me?!”

“You wanted to try the drink right?”

“Yes, but it’s right there in your hand! So if you would just let me have it, I’ll stop annoying you!”

“The taste is lingering in my mouth. It’s so sweet. I wanna get rid of it…”

“Get some water.”

He squeezed his right arm around your waist, bringing you closer to his face,  “But I want to kiss you~!”

“Well, since you drank out of it, if you let me have it, then we can have an indirect kiss!”

The temperature of the coffee shop was just unbearable at this point. And worst of all, this was self-inflicted. You didn’t have to tolerate him. Frankly, you should have left the moment he told you the café was “closed”.  You didn’t have to pounce on him and end up in this painstakingly uncomfortable position either. Moreover, you were sweating from embarrassment from your suggestion. An indirect kiss! That was such a childish thing to fret about and here you were, regretting your own words.

“That’s no fun,” Floyd said, taking another sip of your frappuccino.

“Hey–mmpff!!”

Despite how he manhandled you thus far, he kissed you very tenderly. His lips were soft, warm even. As much as you wanted to push him back and scold him for taking away something as precious as your first kiss, you couldn't. Everything just… felt right. Your grip on his shirt loosened. Before, you held them in your palms in anger, a way of intimidation, a sign to show him that you weren’t going to back down even if he was teasing you with no mercy. But now, you held Floyd’s collar to close the space between you two. You were this close to each other, but it wasn’t close enough.

You gasped as he nibbled your lip. Floyd took it upon himself to invite his tongue over to your wet cavern. A sugary substance flooded your taste buds. Ah… he never swallowed your drink.... Not that it mattered. You gulped it in one breath, continuing on with your tango of tongues. If Floyd wasn’t supporting your waist, you might’ve melted away into this temporary bliss. You momentarily broke away from him to catch your breath. The distance between you two was barely five centimeters. He growled lowly, taking two steps forward, pushing you towards the bar. He smashed his lips against yours, a clear sign for you not to do that again. A fire lit in his eyes. Floyd hungrily bit your bottom lip, earning a whimper in response.  Without breaking away from your mouth, only turning his head to take you at a different angle, he hoisted you up and set you and the beverage down on the countertop. Now, with both hands free, he cupped your cheeks. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing his wrists, drawing away his hands.

“W-Wait…” you exhaled.

“...did you not like that?” he cocked his head.

“No... No… I liked it… I liked it a lot… I just… S-Slow down…”

Floyd reached for the ends of your hair, twirling with the strand, “Take your time…”

Perhaps it was purely the heat of the moment or lust, but you judged him too soon. In this brief period of time, he was being considerate of you.  He traced your figure with his eyes, grinning from ear to ear at your bruised lips, bright pink from the dozens of kisses he gave you. You were just as disheveled as he was.

“...More..”

“You sure?”

“I’m thirsty,” you pouted.

Floyd let out a chortle before sipping your coffee, “Alright, then Shrimpy.”

You prepared yourself for yet another rough session. Before he took your lips, he smoothed back his hair, revealing his forehead. The gesture caught you off guard thus you stiffened as he brushed his lips against yours. By gods, it was as if he wasn't even trying to be provocative. Was it possible for someone to be this seductive without actual effort? At this rate, you were going to miss curfew..

“Floyd…” you moaned, intertwining your fingers with his as he pushed you down onto the counter.

“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry...”

“Floyd… No… T-There’s people watching-!!!”

“So?”

“Does that not bother you?!”

“Not when they’ll know you’re mine~”

You sat up, “I’m a bit too shy for that. A-And I would like for my first time to be private…”

You left the last part trail off in embarrassment, fiddling with his necktie which somehow managed to stay on his person despite everything that just happened.

“Oh? Is Shrimpy a virgin?” he teased.

“So what if I am?!”

“Nothing. Just thought a cute Night Raven College girl like you wouldn’t be since you were really good~”

He earned himself a playful smack on the shoulder to which he responded with a sarcastically scoff. This was so unfair...

“How did you know that I went there?”

“Hmm must be because of the shirt you’re wearing underneath that hoodie,” he said, feigning innocence.

Oh. He’s the perceptive type. You didn’t think much of his ministrations (other than them being tantalizing). It seemed that he took note of every detail about you. At this point, you were crimson as a tomato.

“Also, because I go there as well,” he snickered.

You smacked his shoulder once more.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“Different years, probably.”

“Maybe..”

“Also, I’m always stuck at the Mostro Lounge so you can find me there,” he winked.

“Ahhh! Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?”

“Giving me two answers and mixed signals.”

Floyd tilted your head upwards and pecked your lips, holding you as if you were a figure of glass: “What about this is mixed?”

“You were terribly rude before… and you probably just want someone to bed with for the night,” you puffed your cheeks.

How your body was betraying you… Your legs were still wrapped around his waist and the fervor was not going to dissipate anytime soon.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve had my eyes on you for a long time, (y/n).”

He raised your hand and pressed a chaste kiss on each individual knuckle.

Oh god. Your heart couldn’t bear it anymore. The way your name rolled off the tip of his tongue made honey taste like summer– hot, overwhelming, but still something to look forward to.

“Since when?” you exhaled.

“Since your first visit to the Lounge.”

He switched to your other hand, continuing the ritual.

“I’ve only been there once.”

“You were such a cute Shrimpy that I couldn’t forget about you~”

“That can’t be right–”

“You just have to accept it!”

“It doesn’t make up for how you treated me before.”

He placed your hands on his cheek, “Sorry, Shrimpy. The scent you released was too irresistible.”

Instinctively, you sniffed your clothes, “I don’t smell anything.”

“It might be just an eel thing*, then. But just so you know, I’ve been trying to find you for a while now. I’m so happy that I did. You’re mine now, Shrimpy. Your smell is intoxicating,” he cooed, leaning closer to your ear, “It makes me go feral~”

You squealed at his sudden remark, unable to regain your composure. Your words melted into gibberish and murmurs as you buried your face into his chest once more.

“You’re such a creep,” you whined.

“You don’t mean that~”

“I don’t…”

“We should get going before curfew though. Help me clean up, will ya?”

“Okay.”

Floyd planted a kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, Shrimpy.”

That nickname wasn’t as obnoxious as it was before, huh.

“I’ll reward you once we get to my room,” he snickered over his shoulder as he left for the back room.

Wait– WHAT?!?!?

“H-Hold on-!!”

“Relax, Shrimpy, ’m not gonna do anything to you… not yet, anyway. I’m just sayin’ in case we don’t make it before curfew.  Azul needs me for Mostro Lounge tomorrow, he has no choice, but to let me in. If anyone can convince the headmaster, it’s probably him,” he gave you a thumbs up.

“Good to know. But… I’ve been meaning to ask about Mostro Lounge and this café. If you work for Azul then why work here too?”

“He doesn’t pay me. I’m just helping out of obligation.”

“What? How come?”

“He’s my friend?”

“You sound unsure.”

“You made it sound like I’m gullible,” he laughed, stacking the last of the chairs.

“Well? Shall we go, Shrimpy?”

You took his hand without hesitation. This feeling– it was addicting. You only knew him for a less than a day, but it felt right. It felt meant to be... as if you were soulmates. 

Bonus:

“Oya? Floyd, what happened to your back? There’s scratches all over it. Are you alright?”

“ s’nothin’, Jade. I just… had a fun night~”

“Please. You and (y/n) were so loud. Please reserve those kinds of activities for somewhere more private– not a dormitory with thin walls,” Azul chided.

His brother’s eyes widened, but he didn’t question it any further. Jade curtly closed his gym locker and headed out towards the field.

Azul followed in suit with a huff. 

* Note: Female moray eels release an odor in order to attract males to mate with them

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #event fic #cafe rose event #mild spice #god help me

[noctis-noctua]

Iron Resolve and Refreshing Gales | Overworked Jean x Reader

Relationship: Jean/Reader

Genre: Fluff

Premise: Jean has been pushing herself to the max lately and refuses to acknowledge the detrimental consequences of it no matter who tells her… except for the one person who has her wholehearted devotion.

1754 words.

Here you go! Sorry if it’s a bit subpar - this is my first time writing for Jean, but no complaints here. She’s awesome and I am a total simp for her lmao. 

    Jean has a destructive tendency to attend to the needs of everyone but herself. It doesn’t matter if the issue is as trivial as finding a lost cat or filing papers - Jean carries out each and every request from the citizens of Mondstadt. These days have been busier than usual. Ludi Harpastum is a few days away and that means that preparations are being carried out religiously. In other words, Jean has people knocking on her door non-stop. Can you help decorate Town Square? Hilichurls are blocking the path that my goods are traded on, could you please clear them out? She hasn’t felt the doting embrace of sleep in two days, nor has she consumed more than a couple of light meals. ‘There’s no time for them,’ she often explains to the other Knights. ‘I’m satisfied with anything I can get.’ 

    Lisa is an early riser. She enjoys taking time to brew a pot of Sumerian tea and read new material as the sun floods across Mondstadt, and to do so she must awaken ahead of schedule. It’s because of this that Lisa arrives at the office before anyone else; 5:00 am to be exact, leaving much time to prepare for the day’s labor. She strides to the library doors before coming to a sudden stop, observing the sounds of a frenzied pen in the room across from hers. Jean’s room. Lisa does not hesitate to open the door, exposing a fatigued blonde reading and marking up a stack of documents.

    “Jean, have you been here all night?” Jean’s eyes are dull, leaden bags hanging from beneath them. On the right side of her desk is an almost-spent candle, the dwindling remains of its wax no more than 2 inches. 

    “Oh, good morning Lisa. Unfortunately, I have. That’s alright, though. The sooner I finish them the sooner I can move on to patrolling.” Her tone is desolate despite Jean’s attempts to liven it. The blaring headache ricocheting in her brain is practically begging her to rest, but Barbatos knows that’s not an option. She still has so much to do, and even after she completes this there are mor-

    “[Y/N] hasn’t seen you in days. Not taking a break strains her, too.” Lisa remarks, eyes dancing over the bookshelf. She catches sight of the full series of The Fox in the Dandelion Sea. Mondstadt’s famous romance novels, and one of Jean’s favorites. It’s almost ironic, how such a neglectful Knight came to be a sappy romantic. 

    “...[Y/N] is strong and independent, Lisa. She has no need for me, and although I’d enjoy seeing her, I know that she is perfectly capable of looking after herself. If I have to push my relationship to the side momentarily to sate the people of Mondstadt, then it has to be done.” Jean responds as she pushes another paper to the side. By now there must be 40 finished pages. It pains Lisa to look at them, much less read them. Making peace with defeat, she suggests that Jean purchases a full meal and exits the stuffy quarters. The Dandelion Knight can do nothing but sigh for the 40th time, doing the best she can to ignore the subtle shaking of her limbs, the thrashing pain in her head, and the gradual blur of her sight. 

    She’s fortunate enough to finish up faster than expected and spends the spare time making a beeline for Good Hunter. Suddenly, the hunger in her stomach is 10x more noticeable, and nothing else is on her mind but eating some Fisherman Toast. That is until she bumps into a sobbing blob of red, blubbering much as a fish does.

    “Klee! Did something happen? Did you blow something up?” Jean interrogates, crossing her arms. The small Knight makes a tentative nod and bursts into another fit of tears. I was really hungry… It’s fine, I can always eat later. Jean comforted herself as she held Klee’s tiny palm, preparing for the damage inflicted. 

-

    It’s 11:00 pm. Jean’s ponytail has been ruffled to a point of no return, convincing her to take it down and let the locks of hair flood down her shoulders. New civil letters sit on the mahogany table. Jean prepares another candlestick for the long night ahead, resisting the culling of sleep. It’s much harder to focus than it was last night and nothing but a handful of 10-minute naps and a mushroom skewer are stopping her from dropping dead. Finish fast and I can go home and get a 3-hour nap… Jean’s mind is so adrift and preoccupied that she ignores Kaeya’s presence entirely. 

   “Busy as always, Acting Grand Master. I heard it’s your 3rd day at the office. I thought I’d take the time to invite you to Angel’s Share.” The Cavalry Captain’s voice is sultry, filling the dusty silence. Jean takes one look at his flamboyant figure and turns back to the envelope in her hand, squinting at the printed symbols.

    “Sorry, Sir Kaeya, but I have some stuff to do. I can’t possibly drink - it may impact my performance. Thank you, though.” Kaeya chuckles at that. Stalking over to the paned glass, he observes the joyous city below. Upon closer inspection, Jean looks like absolute shit. Her hair is mussed and her skin is a cumbersome shade, a slight green tone atop her normal paleness. 

    “Same old excuse. Take some time off. You need some fun, Acting Grand Master. It must be boring to be so serious all the time.” His words are not valuable enough to be met with more than a hum. “Fine, fine, be that way. But know that if you ever want to come down, everything is on me. It’s not every day that you come out. Plus… pushing yourself so much can’t be good for your health, Jean.” The drop of formalities is Kaeya’s last attempt to pull his superior away from the bureau, and then he takes his leave. Jean doesn’t fail to notice the painkillers he slipped onto the papers. That snarky Captain… as crass as he tries to be, Jean knows that his actions come from a genuine concern for her health. Thanking him in silence, she tosses the two pills into the back of her throat. 

    The evening descended into twilight, then to the darkest hours of the morning, and Jean has not moved from her chair. The herbal pills had dissipated an hour ago, and the pounding of her headache is almost enough to send Jean reeling. She doesn’t stop, obviously; she’s felt much harsher pains. 4:00 am tranquility serves to be helpful for such aches, but now that her entire body is in pain, it’s much harder to soothe. Her head jolts in intervals as she fights the intense drowsiness. Iron as her resolve may be, Jean is human. Her back hunches as her arms catch a drifting head that now lolls on her reports. The flutter of her eyelashes is peaceful in its own right. Slow exhales leave Jean’s body as she sleeps, her body relishing in such a rare moment. 

    Jean opens her eyes to the scene of a stubby candle that has burnt out. She opens her intricate timepiece in a hurry. 5:00 am. How could she have slept for an entire hour? Dread floods her system as she thinks of how much she has delayed her already bustling schedule. In the midst of her panic, the door opens. It must be Lisa. No one else is mindlessly occupying the building at this ti-

    “Hi, Jean. I brought some tea and cookies for you. I’m sure you must be exhausted… it’s been three days since I’ve seen you, after all.” Jean’s stare softens at the sight of her beloved holding a steaming teacup and a tray of shortbread. She caresses the hand that passes the teacup. The comfort of skin is something she longs for, and something she has deprived herself of these past few days.

    “[Y/N]... I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy lately, and…” Her lips become still as you tread your fingers through her hair and press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “...and I’ve missed you.” She revels in the smile that tugs from you. That beautiful smile… Archons, how much she’s missed it.

    “Jean, come home. If not for your livelihood, for mine. The bed has been cold.” The desperation in your voice breaks Jean’s heart in two. If Jean is a Dandelion Knight, you are the passionate gales of Barbatos plucking her apart, seed by seed. There is no plausible way for her to stay composed around you. Jean leans into the hand against her cheek, a cat yearning for human contact.

    “I suppose I can… do these in the morning.” That earns a swift glare from you. Jean huffs, taking a singular bite of the shortbread. She’s had to explain her Knightly duties to you in many instances, but it always went through one ear and out the other without fail. 

    “No, absolutely not Jean. Give it to your subordinates. Tomorrow, you are staying with me, no questions asked. I’m sure they’ll allow it - your face looks 5 seconds away from death. Now come.” Jean grimaces at the list of tasks she’s stuck on the table’s edge, biting her lip in a debate against herself. Surrendering herself to the feeble begging of her lover, she mutters a small agreement. The tug on her arm convinces Jean to stand, leaning into your shoulder. She finds solace in the warmth you radiate as both of you exit the Knight’s Quarters arm-in-arm, attached at the hip like lovesick puppies. 

    The sun has begun to ascend again, accompanied by a saccharine breeze. It smells of sweet flowers and calla lilies. It smells of the fresh fields of Windrise, tangling Jean’s hair. 

    “Look, even Barbatos is happy that you’re taking a break!” You tease, and Jean cannot help but giggle. She will always laugh at your jokes, and she will always give in to your demands for touch because Jean is a hopeless, pining fool. On the elevated platforms on the Cathedral stairs, Lisa’s plump lips curve as she sees the Dandelion Knight and her precious adventurer roaming the empty streets of Mondstadt. It’s days like this that Lisa is grateful for waking early, so she can experience the morning wind, the rising sun, a delectable dish of tea, and a picturesque scene of a dandelion being burst by the adamant winds.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #jean x reader #genshin jean x reader #genshin jean #genshin impact imagines #genshin #jean gunnhildr #noctis-noctua

[boltwrites]

Sex pollen with mako, sex pollen with mako, sex pollen with mako, sex pollen with mako, please I beg of you

kinktober 2020 | this week’s list

A/N: oh fuck dude. hell yeah. uh. this is so long that tumblr started breaking a little bit at the end. enjoy!

by clicking read more you verify that you are at least 18 years old

after Korra and Asami spent some time together in the spirit world, you begged Mako to take some time away from police work to take a vacation to the spirit world with you. it had always interested you, ever since Korra had left the portals open

it took a lot of begging and whining to get Mako to finally take the time off - he was married to his job, after all - but you finally convinced him to take the vacation, for a full week, even! you were so excited

you two only brought a couple bedrolls and some food with you, Korra assuring you that as long as you followed her and Asami’s general route, you should be fine. luckily, at this point in time, a few months after Asami and Korra’s initial adventure into the spirit world, humans had started to map out the area, and you made sure to mark the map up with Korra’s instructions

but, you didn’t want to stick to it completely. after all, it was a wild and unknown place! you wanted to take your boyfriend on a real adventure

Mako was, of course, excited to spend time with you, but he probably would have chosen Ember Island over the spirit world. he was a little uneasy, since the last time he was in the spirit world, it was when he and the rest of the krew were fighting Unalaq. still, he wanted to be excited for you, and he loved you very much, so he held all of your maps and gear as you rambled on about the things you couldn’t wait to see

the first two days were filled with excitement. Korra had told you of some pretty cool places, and you got to hop along giant mushrooms with Mako, and even hang out in some hot springs, which you two thoroughly enjoyed

everything was progressing as Korra had explained to you, until the third night. as darkness (or, twilight), fell over the spirit world, you caught sight of something just off of Korra’s trail that looked wonderful

it was a forest full of softly glowing flowers. they were all different shades of turquoise, from light aqua, to a deep teal. the petals were illuminated not of themselves, but thanks to some source near the center of the flower, which emitted a gentle glow

it was beautiful, and you urged Mako to camp under the flowers for the night.

“Y/n, it doesn’t look like anything Korra described, and we’re right on the edge of the map,” Mako pointed out, tapping the your current location. the glowing forest wasn’t indicated on the map, and Korra and Asami had told you that they had made camp near a waterfall that night - which was further in the distance, even though it also wasn’t marked on the map “we should keep going.”

“come on, Mako,” you persuaded, tugging on his elbow. “where’s your sense of adventure? here - we can camp on the edge of the forest, so if anything bad happens, we can just make a run for it, alright?” you tried to compromise, staring up at your boyfriend with a little pout on your face. you knew all too well that he couldn’t say no to you when you looked at him like that

Mako faltered for a moment before he sighed, rolling up the map and tucking it away in his backpack. “alright. but we sleep on the edge of the forest, where we can still see the path.”

“sounds good to me!” you sang, grabbing his hand and twining your fingers. Mako groaned as you led him to the forest, but you knew he was just being dramatic. he was probably just as interested as you were, he just didn’t want to admit it

you rolled out your sleeping bags, and set down your backpacks, Mako setting about making dinner as you explored a little. you did follow his rules - you didn’t go too far into the woods, but you did take a closer look at the flowers. you peeked into one of the larger ones - which was around three feet across - but for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what was making them glow. 

you ate dinner with Mako as the light in the spirit world continued to dim, and once you started packing up dinner - something amazing started to happen

“Mako, Mako look!” you gasped, tugging on his sleeve, and pointing to the flowers around you. 

it turned out that the flowers themselves weren’t what glowed so brightly. it was actually their pollen - that they released as soon as the sun set. it floated around you, glowing as it descended, onto the lighter colored flowers closer to the forest floor. you watched as the dust danced in the air

“it’s beautiful,” Mako mumbled, looking up, wrapping his arm around you as you watched it. it really was pretty, and you grinned, self-satisfied, as you settled into his hold, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched the pollen dance in the darkness. you had told Mako it was a good idea, and this justified it

“do you think spirits have allergies?” you asked, as the pollen finally reached your height, dancing around your faces. you sneezed, giggling afterwards, as it made the pollen around you twirl in the twilight

“I don’t know,” Mako replied, trying to hide his face in the collar of his shirt. you giggled at him - he was always such a dork. and that was further exemplified when he sneezed too - the force of it throwing him back a little

you laughed louder, wrapping an arm around him to pull him upright - closer to you. you smiled, pressing your face close to his chest, wrapping your arms around him tight. your fingers tingled, brushing against the fabric of his shirt, and your face felt hot against his shoulder

“maybe I’m allergic to this,” Mako mumbled, a little worried. you pulled back, and he looked confused, regarding his fingers. “my hands are tingling, and my face feels hot-”

“mine are too!” you replied. you could see the heat rising to Mako’s cheeks - the blush looked so cute on him. but - wait, shouldn’t you be worried? maybe it was some kind of allergic reaction... but all you could think of right now, was how pretty Mako’s eyes were, especially in the low light of the forest, how sweet his blush was - 

the heat that had originally pooled in your cheeks spread, down your chest, and lower. spirits, you didn’t think you had ever been so turned on so fast, but - well, you supposed that Mako had that effect on you, especially in such a romantic setting

as you stared at him, you watched, transfixed, as his own pupils dilated as he looked at you - his hands falling on your shoulders, brushing slowly down your arms - and fuck, they felt electric, as the tips of his fingers trailed over the backs of your palms

“Mako,” you breathed, your voice far deeper than you expected, full of need you didn’t even know you hand. he replied with a low noise of his own, sounding more like a growl than anything else. “touch me,” you urged, your own limbs feeling like jelly

luckily, Mako had no such problems moving. he was on you in an instant - all but throwing you onto your bedrolls. the accumulated pollen sprang into the air as you crashed into the softness, the particles dancing around you as Mako pressed against you leg

and fuck, he was hard. he was hard, and his mouth was like heaven against yours - so warm, and when his tongue slid into your mouth - spirits, you moaned, already feeling soaked, and he hadn’t even touched you

the next few moments were a blur. all you knew was Mako and heat and electricity - and then you were both naked, skin on skin as he thrust into you with no foreplay, not even a word of warning

but it didn’t matter - you were so wet and hot that he slid in and it felt - it felt like nothing you had ever felt before. somewhere, in your sex-addled brain, you wondered why it felt so different, so unbelievably good, but you pushed it away, in favor of crying out and pulling Mako closer

usually when you fucked, Mako was full of little quips - dirty talk, praise, even degradation - but now, all he let out were desperate moans as he fucked you hard, deep - so good that you could feel him in your throat, he filled you so well

he plastered you to the ground, covering you in him completely, and he didn’t even have to touch you - usually you needed more direct stimulation, but like this, with him so close and everything so hot and electric? one more well placed thrust and you came, hard. you tightened around him, your thighs vices as you pressed him into you

he keened - a loud, dirty noise that you had never heard him make before, that made you shiver under him. only a few more thrusts - shallow, hard - before he was coming inside you, and you felt like you might burst from it

he collapsed on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him loosely, feeling like jelly

“Y/n - I think something’s wrong,” Mako groaned, his voice hoarse from moaning. you made a noncommittal noise - still turned on, grinding against him. “like, really wrong. I think the pollen - it’s making us-”

“Mmm?” you replied, kissing under Mako’s jaw, nipping the skin there, before you kissed lower down his neck. it was so long, and you could leave so many marks there - 

“Y/n! I think we - we-” Mako ground against you, and you keened, pulling him closer, your hands low on his back. “oh, fuck.”

he was still hard. usually by now, he had softened, and wouldn’t be ready for another round for at least another twenty minutes - usually closer to a half an hour. but it was like he had never come? only a few moments of clarify before he was consumed by his need once more

and you understood what he was saying - somewhere in the back of your mind, you had considered it as well. this pollen had to be some sort of drug, or aphrodisiac - but was that really so bad? on your days off, you usually spent them with Mako deep inside you anyway. was this so different, really?

“more,” you gasped, and Mako was far too happy to comply

he fucked you like nothing you had ever felt before. he fucked you again, on the sleeping bags, lifting your legs onto his shoulders so he could press into you even deeper, and you lost yourself so soon, your sensitivity like nothing you had ever experienced

then, he took you against one of the trees, your chest pressed to it as he took you from behind, tugging on your hair roughly, to pull your head back for deep, desperate kisses

then, he lifted you up, and you wrapped your legs around him as he fucked you against the tree again, this time buried so deep inside you that you thought you could cry

you lost track of how many timed Mako had you, in the grass, with your legs over his shoulders, around his waist - with him pressed against your back. you even rode him a few times - but your legs gave out every time, and Mako was forced to finish the job, thrusting into you deep as you keened his name

your legs shook, and your hips groaned in protest, but you took everything he gave you, until the sun rose again, and you started to come back to yourselves. you were both messes - absolutely covered in each other, Mako plastered to your chest, sweaty and spent, finally, finally spent, his hair wet, plastered to his forehead as he breathed heavily, looking up at you through tired, lidded eyes

“I told you it was a bad idea,” he panted. 

“I thought it was fun,” you countered, your voice cracking horribly, even as you spoke as softly as you could. your voice was shot. “but I think you’re going to have to carry me for the rest of the vacation.”

“I’m honored you think I can walk,” Mako replied, his own voice straining.

well. you had been looking for an adventure.

#mako x reader #asks #anon #mine #kinktober 2020 event

[dreaminpeaches]

“Ladies, Gentlemen, Enbies...HER--I mean Him? Or them?-- whatever, anyways here's the first part of my daydream paracosm, Humble Pie. I was really happy I was able to come up with the first part in a somewhat cohort manner. Part 2 is also going to follow this sometime soon, but after that its probably just gonna be short shorts, text exchanges, and or drabbles, but that first part’s finally a thing! And that’s cool”

“Also just reminder that this paracosm is set in a mix timeline, like people have flip phones, cassette tapes, but still also have stuff like gamer chairs, and slang like sus/lit exist, so I hope that doesn’t bother you..oof”

“Also I wrote this from my Remarkable, then convert it to text, and did some proof reading, but my handwriting is still can only be read by chickens and my dyslexia ninja has sneak 100 accuracy so..yeah

Word count: 6,115

TW: mention of Bullying, DeadBeat dad, Smoking, Drinking, Swearing (only for comedy’s sake tho’), Dissociation, Guilt (but don’t worry there’s still A LOT of fluff in this piece, tho)

Link to Alternate version on my off-site daydream blog: Humble pie part 1

=================================================================

"Okay, here we go" Beau said, taking one last drag of his cigarette, and taking in one last look at the panoramic view of the town below, Newbury, his hometown, he was away for a year because of college which he dropped out of. Well, "dropout" made it seemed like he had a choice, more like he flunked out, there were' 'reasons that 'made college impossible for Beau, reasons that he couldn't get into or more like reasons he didn't want to get into, these were the some reasons that turned what was suppose to be a 5 hour drive into an 8 hour one, making him stop ever so often to the nearest park, overlook, or clearing to get out, smoke and or take a short walk. These stops were so frequent by the time he reached his hometown’s overlook he was on his last stick, hard to believe he started the trip w/ a full box.

He dropped the last of the remains of the cig on the ground and stomped out the glow ember with his dark brown rounded toed boot, watching the embers glow go out made him feel similar in a way.

Beau took one more last look at the small town below blanketed by the dark, light sky. He looked around. the overlook, bring back memories of. late night make outs, sneak outs and general teenaged shenanigans.

Beau remembers once on a night he was really buzzed, a rare event for him, drinking with his buddies, rather it was the buzz from the beer, or he was just 'riding the 'high off scoring the winning goal for the team, or general teen hormones. He felt invincible, so invincible he stood up on the ledge and proclaimed himself as king of the world

A moment Beau looks back at and shakes his head as if to try to erase the memory from his mind like an etch n’ sketch, suddenly he got a bad taste in his mouth or maybe that's just the cigarettes "King of world….yeah, right" Beau said pulling up the collar of his jacket and shrugging his hands into his pockets, and headed back into the car.

It was getting late and there was no use in stalling any longer, might as well continue to the inevitable. Stalling may be that’s the feeling that's been following him the whole time, stalling the fact that he would have to return to his hometown a failure after being touted and praised for being a star athlete , and getting into a ivy league school, a feat his mom was really proud since she herself couldn't go to college because of having Beau at such a young age, and having to deal with a bunch of other “BS” as Beau would put it.

Beau really wanted to make her proud by becoming a famous football player and make tons of money so she wouldn't ever have to worry about bills n 'stuff and live in the malibu dream house she dreamed of living in since she was a kid, a dream she would talk about to her children like it was fairytale during when time got real tough.Even though she sounded upbeat over the phone about the news, Beau knew his mom was an expert when it came to masking her disappointment and skill that was pretty integral with dealing Beau's birth father. He just hopes she's not too disappointed

As the twilight sky grew more dark the street lights flickered on. Familiar and nostalgic landmarks and structures rolled by as Beau drove by with one hand gripping the wheel while the other hand hung casually out of the rolled down window. the nighttime breeze gentle, tossing his cart dirty blond hair mullet. The 'murmur of punk music lighty playing from the car's speaker, that was playing louder earlier but the volume's quickly depleted because blasting punk 'music at night in a small town is pretty serious offensive a risk, a younger Beau would play around with, but now being older he knows better.

Driving into his old neighborhood, seemingly not much has changed, but what do you expect from a small town? The old neighborhood consisted of typical signatures of most middle upper class .. neighborhoods, Christmas ' decorations long over due to be taken down, manicured lawns, next to slightly less manicured lawns. Some lawns adored w/ gnomes and flamingos, a step up from the lawns of homes in his childhood neighborhood whose homes had what one could consider a lawn but just barely, Beau and his brother were lucky enough to have a sizable back yard and a tree house.

His family's lawn had a bunch of outdoor toys laid about on their lawn: a nerf gun, a pink tricycle, a tiled dyed color bouncy ball and an empty container of mega bubble wand. Beau drove up in the driveway being careful to not accidentally run over any of the toys in the yard.

He eject the mixtape from the player and put it into his jacket chest pocket. Beau leaned over and rummaged through the glove compartment fishing out a small travel can of axe's body spray and another small spray can of mouthwash, he used both to cover the scent of cigarette smoke, a smell his mother was highly sensitive to. He popped in a stick of spearmint for extra measure before getting out of the car and going to the trunk to retrieve his suitcase. Beau only had one suitcase since all the stuff really needed and cared about conveniently fitted in one suitcase.

Beau propped up his suitcase as he closed the trunk, the car beeped and blinked as he pressed the lock button. He headed up the pathway to the front door, his heart beating louder and louder with each step leading up to the front door.

Beau took a deep breath, Pulling himself together. "Okay" He said under his breath as his hand slowly reach for the knob but before he could even get a good grip, the door swung open, Beau's eyes raced up to see the thinning hair of a middle aged man, Beau eyes lowered a bit more to see the mustached clad face of the man the hair belonged to. "Hey, Big Boss! '' the mustache man said with a grin. The man was Beau's stepfather, David.

"Hello, David, I-I mean Dad." Beau awkwardly greeted his stepdad, trying his best not to show discomfort at his step dad's “nickname" for him.

"Ha, ha that's okay, son!”David laughed, giving Beau a hefty pat on the back.

"Here, let me get your bags." David said, reaching for Beau's suitcase, looking behind Beau expecting more bags

“You only brought one bag?" he questioned, looking curiously.

'--I like to be efficient" Beau muttered with a shrug and a side glance. "HAHA you and me both, Big B" David chuckled playful elbowing Beau, who gave a half-smile and a small chuckle--well, more like a slight nose huff

"Hey, honey Big B is home!" David shouted as Beau closed the front door.

His mother came rushing from the bedroom in her rose pink robe w/a barbie in insignia on the front with matching fuzzy slippers, her sandy blond hair still damp from the shower.

"My little boy, oh!" she said, warping Beau in a tight motherly embrace. "Welcome home!" Beau's mother pulled back for a second, cupping her son's face in her hands “you’re still so handsome"

"Wait..." Beau gently removed his mom's hands from his face "Are you okay, mom?" He asked his considerate brown eyes searching his mother's teal eyes for any sign of distress.

"Of course, sweetie," his mom beamed. "I have all of my loved ones under one roof. What's more to ask?"

it's just that I didn't- Y-you know." Beau said with downcast eyes

"Oh, that" his mom said wide eyes and then shaking her head in dismissed

"Don't worry about not finishing college, I mean just look at me"

“But You just seemed so proud that I got in, I just didn't want to let you down"

“Sweetie, it's fine," his mom said, gently guiding his head up with her hand to look at him "I was not proud that-You were becoming the smart, sweet kind young man, I always knew you were, but now. I'm just happy that you’re here and I get to see you go. on the journey myself!" Beau chuckled tightly and blushed at his mom's admiration.

"Plus, Your mom's not the only one who is happy to have You home!” David said, gesturing towards the hallway. Beau looked to see a small figure peeking from the corner, the figure quickly disappeared followed by an overflow of giggles.

A smile slowly creeped across Beau's face, he slowly kneeled down. " "Gasp * Is that my little care bear?"

From the shadows totted out, a little girl dressed in a blue care bear patterned nightgown, her blonde hair tied up in pigtails, she grasped a love-a-lot bear in one arm while her other arm was open as she raced towards Beau, also with arms wide open for a hug "Bo-Bo"

"Hey, care bear!" Beau cooed as he picked up his little sister "Wow, You've gotten so big since the last time I saw you!

"Carrie's been asking when you were coming since you told us you were coming home "David stated

"Really?"

"Yep!'' Carrie nodded proudly "You still have the love-a lot bear I won at grad night". Beau vividly remembers winning Love A Lot and his friends making fun of him, but Carrie really appreciated it more than he thought.

"Yeah, she takes it with her everywhere!" mom emphasized “Thank god, the kindergarten has a security blanket policy!

"Aww..." Beau said fondly looking at Carrie, who had her head resting on his shoulder, still grasping love a lot.

Beau thought for a moment and looked around "wait, where Dev?"

"Oh" mom said putting her hand on her head with a semi sigh "He's been going through... things"

"Teenager things: David specified "He's the big one three now.. "

“Don't worry, I can talk to him!”Beau said, confidently, slowly nodding his head

. Carrie lets out a small yawn "Aw, you sleepy, care bear?" Beau asked as Carrie rubbed her eyes

"It's past her bedtime, but she really wanted to see you," Mom said, stroking Carrie's hair. "Is someone ready for the sleep shuttle'?" Beau asked Carrie, looking at her in her sleepy hazel eyes, she nodded in response

"Alright, Here we go!" Beau held Carrie in both hands placing his arms out in front of him, he kneeled down and started counting down. "3…..2...1. Blast off!"

Beau shot Carrie in the as he stood back up. As he moved towards Carrie's bedroom, he moved all around side to side, up and down while making spaceship sounds, Carrie was giggling all the way through.

"Incoming! "Beau shouted as he swooshed Carrie round a few more times before landing her swiftly on the bed.

"Huston, the eagle. has landed!." Beau said, holding his ear as if he had an earpiece "Not eagle! Bear!" Carrie stated holding up her care bear "correction, the "BEAR" has landed!" Beau correcting himself, bringing a huge smile to her face as she nuzzled her care bear

"Okay, night, right, care bear" Beau said patting carries head

"Wait!" Carrie said holding on to her brother's arm "Is Bo-Bo still gonna be here in the Morning?""Of course, I'm not going anywhere at least for a while.." "Beau said, kneeling down to Carrie's eye level.

"Okay, I like having Bo-Bo around:'' Carrie said "and I like being around" Beau said, "see you in the morning, care bear" Beau gives Carrie a good night kiss on the forehead.

She settles into bed as Beau closes the door. Beau grinned to himself, feeling lucky to have such a cute sister. He remembers when Devin was that little, speaking of Dev. Beau apphoraced Dev's bedroom door. The door was caution tape, Don't enter signs, with a please knock before entering sign.

At first Beau did think about knocking but then thought "I could be a respectful older brother respect the sign or I could have fun and be a little shit. He pondered about it for a minute then-"yeah, I'm gonna be a little shit.”

Beau took a card out his wallet and wedged it in between the door to jimmied the lock. He peeked through the door to see Dev playing a video game on the tv. "you little..." Beau said under his breath, before bombastically opening the door "Hey there, squirt!" Beau said, shoving the door open

"Didn't you read the sign?!" Dev said as he turned around in his gamer chair in both shock-and annoyance

"Wow, that's a pretty warm welcome to give your older brother you haven't seen in a year!" Beau snarked, pretending to look hurt'' "Nice to see you too!"

"Oh my god!" Dev said, rolling his eyes and turning his chair back to tv, bringing his attention back to the game.

"and here I thought you were working on a project or homework or some school shit!" Beau continued "but no, you're just sitting here playing one of your little nerd games"

"Oh my god, can't you just leave!" Dev groaned as he hunching closer to the tv.

"You couldn't at least say "Hi" " Beau said now standing right behind Dev gamer chair

Dev raised and waved his hand half-heartedly and flatly said "hi"

"Well, damn I feel loved," Beau said sarcastically. "aren't you at least gonna look at me?" shaking the gaming chair a bit to gain an ounce of his little brother’s attention.

“ I saw you "Kool aid man" into my room. Is that enough?" Dev said still focusing on the game Beau sighed, then got an idea "Dev! Dev! I think there's something wrong with my heart I think I gonna-ugh!" He said staggering forward a bit before falling in Dev's lap, knocking out the game controller out of Dev's hands.

"Come on! I was in the middle of battle!" Dev whined looking at his brother playing dead

"Get off of me!" Dev go armed as he tried to push beau off with no luck

"Come on, Beau!" He gored in frustration “I know you're not dead! I can still feel your heartbeat..."

Get up!" Beau remained still, Dev rolled his eyes; he knew the exact words to get his brother off his back or in this case lap.

"Big brother, can you please get off of me n Dev utter begrudgingly "Aw, you haven't call me ‘Big brother’ in years" Beau chimed with a smile, finally getting up "I'm still kind of hurt, that you cared about your gaming progress than the well being for your one and only big brother"

"You were still breathing, I could literally see you inhaling and exhaling." Dev clarified rubbing his forehead

"Touche, I guess" Beau said he then directed Dev's chair in front his bed," now that I have your attention"

"Okay, I guess I should say sorry since you couldn't and say "hi" to me because you were too busy saving some elf princess, or some anime chick with huge melons"

"I-H-Hey I don't even play those types of games!" Dev argued blushing

" .-sure you "don't'." Beau taunted with a wink, Dev goanned "Anyways, Anyways you don't have to say "hi",; but you could at least not talk to me"

Beau suggested, shrugging. "I guess" Dev mumbled kind of sinking into his chair "cool, so how's life?" Beau started, trying to start a diagoul "okay"

"How's school?"

"Okay"

"How’re your friends?"

"Okay"

"Got a girlfriend?"'

"NO”

"Got a boyfriend?"

N-NO"

"Got any crushes"

“….NO…..."

"joined any clubs or any other after school junk?"

" ..... NO..."

"Are you just gonna answer all my questions in one word?"

Dev fell quiet, and shifted his gaze from his brother

“Okay, that's it!" Beau huffed, he picked up Dev and hoasted him over his shoulder "Hey! put me down!" Dev-shouted , beating his fists on Beau's back "Not until you talk to me like an actual person, and one worded answers aren't gonna cut it, squirt!"

"MOM! Dad!"

"Mom and Dav-Dad are fast asleep, and you know they both sleep like rocks!" Beau stated'' the only person you'll wake up is Carrie, and You don't want to wake little care bear, now do YOU?"

Dev fell Quiet again, "You know I can hold you like this for hours, you aren't really that heavy, or you can just end this and talk to me" Beau suggested ending the suggestion with a sigh and started to stomp his foot impatiently..

Dev continued the silent treatment for a bit until letting out a meek "Okay...I'll try" .

Hey, three words, that's a start!" Beau cheekly commented,He sat Dev back down in his green gamer chair.

"Okay, do over!" Beau said casually sitting across from Dev and his bed. "so, how's school going?" "F-fine” Beau gave Dev a intense look, reminding Dev of his word count “N-no, I mean it's just weird" Dev stuttered choosing his words carefully, Dev fiddled with his hoodie sleeves.

"and it's weird because..." Beau initiated, gesturing his hand toward encouraging Dev to continue "It's weird because.... I don't know, Middle school is way different than 'elementary school, I mean I knew that from tv, but middle school isn't like tv."

"It's okay, nothing like tv, that thing lies” Beau softly chuckled to himself and continued “I remember thinking Pogo sticks were the SHIT-cuz 'of people and cartoons on tv made it look so easy"

"I finally got enough money for one-- you were like little you probably don’t remember this-- but I was SO HYPED, I wanted mom to watch me. I took one hop, fell on my ass, and never hopped on that bitch again. I was pissed, I think mom was trying to her best not to laugh but I was so pissed I think I didn’t notice until now. I chucked the pogo stick in the garage, and I never looked at that bitch again”

Dev let out a stiff laugh, the defensive wall Dev put was slowly breaking

"Oh WAIT WAIT!” Beau said taking a moment to correct himself “ That WASN’T the last time the last time I looked that bitch, I fished it out of garage years later, only cuz’ I need some money for Madden. So, I did look at that bitch one more time, but only to sell that bitch.”

Dev let out a more audible laugh, but quickly caught himself and recollected, returned to his disillusioned teenage state.

"Anyway, The teacher's are kind of weird, like a lot of them hate my guts already, except for the coaches who are super nice to me." Dev explained, kind of looking away from his brother

"Weird, why do you think that is?" Beau asked whole hearty

"Because I'm related to you, Numb skull!" Dev blunted , groaning putting his hand on his forehead

"Oh damn, I guess that's my fault." Beau realized, rubbing the back of his neck "My bad. that my awesomeness is just lengardy"

Dev shook his head and rolled his eyes "It's not awesome to live in YOUR shadow!" Dev sulked, sinking back into his chair, his hands covering his face.

"You don't have to follow in my awesomeness, I know I'm a hard act to follow." Beau boasted teastingly so"You just gotta make your own awesomeness."

"What does that even mean?" Dev questioned, moving his hands down, allowing his eyes to peek through his fingers, trying not to given the urge to roll his eyes

"It's like my awesomeness comes from my boyish charm and good looks..." Beau claimed, striking an award winning smile, The urge not to roll his eyes was becoming even hard for Dev, but he still had to try and respect Beau "But your awesomeness could come from being good at games, or computers shit or math or robots or something--I don't know something real nerdy"

"I guess, you're right" Dev mumbled and shrugged,lifting himself up back into a sitting position rather than almost spilling out of his chair.

"Its not a guess, its science!" Beau declared proudly, tapping his temple with his index finger

"No,that's not science!" Dev arguing his brother's stupidity, flatly shaking his head in disagreement

"See, there you go using your nerd awesomeness" Beau pointed out with a wink "Keep that up and you'll go from Beau's lil bro, to just ‘Dev’ in no time." Beau playful tousled Devs mop dirty blonde hair

"I mean.." Dev continued batting his brother's hand away, "I was also thinking of joining the video game club or the robotics club at school."

"There you go another nerdy thing that to add to your own awesomeness" Beau said

"Yeah...." Dev continued ignoring his brother's comment' “Some of my friends are thinking about joining, and it would be a nice place to go away from mom and dad."

"I had sick memories of hanging out with the team, we got into some wild shit." Beau said laughing to himself, fondly reminiscing "But I'm sure you and you geek squad could have "wild" times too, like making an anime robot 'weify." or whatever those called or finding a new math formula or something"

Dev fell quiet for another moment, Beau always seems like he’s in between being supportive and subtly roasting him, Dev then uttered "um... I think I kind of have a crush... on a girl..."

"AYE, let's go! "Beau exclaimed, clapping and shaking Dev's chair for a bit before bouncing back on the bed'' Come on, don't leave me hanging, what's her name? "Have you talked to her vet? Have you asked her out? Have-"

"Calm down!" Dev demanded "I said I had a crush, I didn't say we’re going out.'"

"Oh, so you haven’t talked to her, huh?”

"No, I-I don't even know her name" Dev huffed, he let his arms slip into his oversize sleeves and covered his sleeves with his face in frustration.

"You know you could just ask, not the chick, like just ask around"

"I can't do that because if I do, people will find out I like her and if she finds out, I would just have to stop going to school!”

"Okay, let’s just pretend you DO have the balls to talk to this girl, what's the worst that could happen?" Beau suggested

"She finds out that I like her, thinks I'm weird and never wants to talk to me again or even look at me!” Dev muffled through his sleeved covered face

"You really think she can sus that out all in one go!" Beau said "I mean she is a middle Schooler unless she's like a young nancy drew, she is not going to chew you up and spit out like that." Beau explained "speaking of which''

Beau paused for a moment to spit out his gum into the trash can "Score!"

"Anyways, have you done anything weird to her or around her?"

"No, I mean I look at her in the hallways before and in between class, but I don't like-- stalk her or anything too weird." Dev mumbled, moving his sleeves from his face, but his head was still targeted down at his fingers fiddling with a tag on his black shorts

"So, then what's the fear?" Beau inquired, resting his chin on the heel of his palm

Dev thought for a moment, his eyes shifting looking for an answer." I-I guess I just don't know how to talk to her."

"Well, fuck, that's easy" Beau chuckled “Just talk about school shit, or just say "hi"

"Is it really that easy?"

"Yeah, if you have the balls for it" Beau reiterated "Think about it like this, the dudes you play in your little nerd games have to fight a dragon, a demon or some anime witch with huge melons to talk to the girl they like and they er brave enough to do all of that wacky shit. But you’re lucky, you don't have a dragon for real in your way to keep you talking from your crush. The dragon's just in your head! If those hero dudes can fight dragons they actually can see, doesn't that mean you can fight a dragon you don't even see."

"That was a really lame and kind of confusing metaphor" Dev sassed " But I guess understand what your trying to say"

"Exactly" Beau said nodding confidentiality

"Can we talk about mom and dad?" Dev asked sheepishly, looking up at his brother, (well as much as he could with his shaggy bangs in the way), his fingers now toying with his hoodie strings

"Did something happen?"

"No, I mean yeah, I mean it's just weird" Dev said "Mom and dad are starting to get more annoying but I don't know if they were always like that or they like charged"

"No, parents don't really change-usually” Beau explained “It's just that being a teenager makes you hypersensitive to a bunch of shit and makes you wanna be alone more. Parents, the good ones like spending time with their kids and they actually want quality time n' shit and that's where they start to get annoying".

“"Oh okay,” Dev nodded.'' It's just weird because sometimes I feel like I hate them, but I don't want to. I think I just really want to be alone more like you said but I don't want to shut them out, I just want them to get that." Dev-fiddles with the strings of his green hoodie

"Yeah, I think they do in a weird old people kind of way. Believe it or not they were teenagers to even if that was back in the stone age n' shit" Beau joke"

Dev let out an actual laugh, a sign to Beau that he's little bro was being less of a moody teenager

"Anyway, even with that said mom and david-I mean dad aren't mind readers, it would be cool if you give them a heads up, you don't have to tell them all about what's going on in your little teen nerd brain but at least something simple like something weird or funny that happened at school, or asking for help on homework or a project for class or some shit like that, I'm pretty sure Dav-dad would love that.."

"I guess I could try". Dev said slightly nodding his head "But Carrie is kind of weird too!

"How can Carrie be weird, she's 5.” Beau scoffed "she doesn't do anything weird really"

Dev added" it's just sometimes she's regular cute and other times she's annoyingly cute if that makes sense"

"I mean like kind of get what you're saying but "Beau shrugged gesturing his hand toward prompting Dev to continue

"Like I still look out for her because she little, but because she's little that means I have to do dumb stuff like look for monsters under her bed or do that sleep shuttle thing you do, but I can't really do it because my arms give out halfway through and she's heavier than she looks."

"Well, little brothers and sisters are annoying, it's kind of their job, trust me I know from experience" Beau: put his hand on Dev's knee, Dev tried to Swat at it but Beau quickly put his hand back with a smirk.

"But like with mom and da-David just cuz she's annoying doesn't mean You can’t look out for her n stuff"

"I guess, its because lately, it seems like'' Dev paused 'for a beat, his hands hard gripping the strings of his hoodie, before continuing" I don't know mom and dad have been paying more attention to her than me"

A mischievous smile creeps across his face. "AW does someone miss being the baby?"'

"Oh, fuck! I knew you 'er gonna say that!" Dev blurted out, feeling really exposed, he pulled his hoodie strings allowing his head to be consumed by his hoodie, all but his nose.

"Hey! language,” Beau said, surprised at his little brother's reaction those harsh words coming out of the mouth of small boy sporting a Yoshi hoodie

"You cuss' all the time!" Dev huffed pulling his hoodie back down, then crossing his arm definitely

"Yeah, but I'm older than you, and if mom and David--DAD hear you curse they’er gonna know you got it from me and won't get off my ass about it!"

Dev stared at his brother, simmering in frustration in failing to coming up w/a good come back or a flaw in his brother's logic, He let out a heavy sigh and resumed "Anyways, it's NOT like I miss being the baby, I just miss being able to hold their attention without Carrie coming in and stealing them anyway, I don't know its weird"

"Wait, did you just say that you wanted to be alone and away from mom and David-fuck. I'm not even gonna try more-he's asleep anyways." giving up any attempt to make the word "Dad" same with the name "David"

"Yeah, I know that's what makes it weird!" Dev admitted, he sulked back deeper into his chair and let out a groan.

"You know Carrie's not awake all the time, maybe you can talk to mom and David, when she goes down for her nap, hell, I could just take her to the park for a day." Beau offered

"You'd really do that for me?" Dev peeped, quickly lifting himself up in a sitting position, surprised at his brother kind offer

"Yeah, anything to make you less of a weird angsty shut in, with a bunch of cringy keep out signs and keep out tape!" Beau gestured towards the door

"Actually, I got that caution tape from a real crime scene" Dev clarified, with a smug smile

"Really?" Beau taking a longer closer look at the door

"No, thick head, I found it in a dumpster next to party city!"

"You go dumpster diving?" Beau said, raising an eyebrow

"I have a life outside of YOU!" Dev stated proudly

"Okay, and on that... Weird garbage goblin flex, sibling bonding time is over." Beau said getting up from the bed and heading for the door

"Actually, one more thing..." Beau said quickly, turning around, rushing towards Dev, putting him into a headlock.

"Did ya miss me? Come on, tell me that you missed me!" Beau taunted as he gave his brother a long and through noogie "Ouch, Ow, Ow, Okay, okay, I missed You. Geez:" Dev pleaded trying to struggle out of his brother's grip

"That's what I wanted to hear!" Beau said with a smirk, letting 'Dev go.

"Ugh! my hair" Dev fumed , gawking at his even more messy mop of hair.

"Like you care about appearances" Beau chuckled" mop top nerd!"

"Mullet-hair metal meathead!"

"Ouch, that was pretty good" Beau teased pretending to look hurt "Garbage Goblin"

"You already-"Dev started but was cut off by Beau closing the door

"Too late, the door is closed, I can't hear you, which means I win!" Beau said through the door, laughing at his brother's muffled fury of frustration.

Beau grinned relishing in the absolute confusion of his younger brother, but that good vibe quickly faded once he arrived at the door to his old bedroom. He just stood there and stared at the door for a bit, he could feel the icky stew of the emotions from bubbling back up again.

He flexed his hand a few times as if this was the first time he's ever pored a door, Beau's hand reached for the door handle before retracted as if the knob was red hot.

Beau sheepishly looked around as if somebody was watching him, no one was but it sure did feel like it. He considered sleeping on the couch, but that would be weird, since it seemed like his step dad put his luggage in his room. so, eventually he would have to go into his room anyway.

Beau took a deep breath. "Come on, it's just a door, dude!" He told himself Beau's hand rested on the door knob, he took another deep, his hand gained a stronger grip, and he slowly pushed the door open, Beau carefully entered the room as he closed the door behind him. Looking around the room was plaster with posters of football players and a few pinups of doe-eye, sensual women in swimsuits and other scantily clad outfits.

Athletic medals, trophies and awards displayed proudly on his bookshelf that lacked any actual books, those trophies stood next to pictures of Beau with his teammates, all illuminated by the moon's dull pale blue light. These relics of what felt like a bygone era used to fill Beau with so much pride and joy but looking at them now just leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

He could barely even recognize himself in those photos. This whole room felt like a shrine or more like a tomb to someone who no longer exists.

Looking at all this stuff just made the icky feelings from before rise up to the back of his throat making the bad taste linger even longer.

Beau couldn't really pin what-these feelings were, so he shifted his focus on just getting some sleep

As he thought, Beau's step dad put his luggage on his bed. He opened his bag and quickly changed into a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. He fished out the mix tape from his jean jacket and put into the gray clucky music player on his nightstand. Beau turns the music up loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough for disturb anyone else. Heavy metal music (ironally) helped him sleep on hard nights.

Beau laid in bed focusing on the one spot in his room that wasn't decorated with high school memorabilia. Focusing on that spot was way better than focusing on the icky feelings from earlier. All he needed to was focus on sleep just sleep, Beau closed his eyes and tried to focus on just sleep.

The next time Beau opened his eyes, he was back in the hallway of his highschool. Beau looked around confused why he was back here but before he could really sus out the situation, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud. He followed the sound of the thud that led to a scene of a bespectacled student being shoved up against the lockers. The student's face contorted by fear.

"P-please, d-don't hurt me. "the student uttered, the words quivering as it left his lips.

"Aww, look at him, guys." a familiar voice said, Beau couldn't see whom the voice belonged to. There was a strange mist in the hallway that obscured the person's face.-

"He's scared." the voice said mockly, the person nodded towards a group of people whose faces were also obscured by the mist, they laughed in response

“Don't worry, little buddy, I'm not gonna hurt ya:" the person taunted as he tightened his grip on the student and shoved his body up against the failing student. "As long as you don't squeal" .

"You squeal, and I'll fry you like the pig you are, got it. Swine?"

"I-I p-promise I W-won't. J-just please let me go!" the student begged

Beau was disturbed by scene happening before him, but along with the feel of disgust came a feeling of familiarity, like he's been there before

Just then the fog lift to reveal the face of a younger version of Beau dawned in his red “New Burny High school” letterman jacket. He was smirking relish in the fear he was inflicting on the poor student.

Older Beau slowly back up, almost stumbling as he was coming to the realization of the origin of all those icky feelings from before

"I don't know, do we trust him, guys?" Younger beau asked cocking his head back to his teammates, who shook their head in disagreement "The Boys and I don't seem very sure of that, I think I'm gonna have to test your loyalty !" Younger Beau winded up his arm for a punch, But before his fist could make an impact.

Beau found himself back in his room in a cold sweat, hyperventilating as quickly rose from his bed. His room, still illuminated by the moonlight, with the metal mix tape softly playing in the background. He looked at his hand as if they were lethal weapons. How could I do such a thing?

#daydream blog #daydream blogging #daydream dairy #paraportal #paracosm: humble pie #para: beau #para: devin #para: carrie #immersive daydreaming #paracosm