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rax-writes · 3 years

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Fandom: MCU Pairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x Reader Warnings: Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the end Notes: Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. // Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

1K notes · View notes

barzzal · 3 years

Text

between halls and thin walls → part four

summary: friends who fool around almost never works. almost.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: idiots, that’s all <3

↳ genre: fluff, angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+

↳ length: series; part one, part two, part three, part four (6.7k), part five, part six

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: my favorite part by mac miller, addicted by jorja smith, someone to spend time with by los retros

note: finally got myself to update this fic oml zzz quick psa tho, this will now be a six-part series! hope that’s okay and yenno as always, would love to hear what you think about this (validate me in the tags pls im lonely) happy reading babes! <3

“Yo, grandma. Haven’t you had too much tea to drink?” his voice echoes in the room as soon as he walks into it. You carefully set the cup down on the dining table and looked at him exasperatedly.

“Haven’t you had too much care to give?” you snark back, earning yourself a disappointed look from him.

“Really, y/n? That’s the best you’ve got?” he shakes his head at your appalling retort. What a shame.

You were good at pissing him off to be fair. You just weren’t in the mood to throw teases back and forth especially now that you’re feeling particularly vulnerable.

The week has been far too dreadful for you and you know that you’re willing to grovel your way into the weekend to finally have the time to slack off, not worry about taking a bath, and just go crazy with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

However, just like always, Mathew seems to never run out of ways to get on your nerves.

He carelessly puts his stuff on the table, causing a fairly loud thud on the surface.

You let out a deep breath, massaging your temple.

“Somebody’s cranky.” he grins. Not necessarily the kind you’d want to see from him.

You try to ignore him for a few minutes but you can’t help noticing how his build easily took over much of the space you’ve already been occupying. You irkingly look up at him, closing the book you were reading. You meet Mat’s eyes who just innocently looked back into yours. Waiting. Possibly plotting on yet another sophisticated way to toy with you.

“You’re a child.” you roll your eyes and return to your reading. He says nothing and instead rests his chin atop his enclasped hands, continuing to bother you with his ridiculously beguiling eyes. He presses his lips together before sighing dramatically.

“What?” you snap, finally shutting your book down as you look at him.

“I wanna go out.” he looks up at you in an effort to make his huge physique smaller than it really was.

“Then go out. You’re a big boy.” you breathe.

“You just said that I’m a child.” he coos, mimicking a five-year-old’s voice.

“Stop that.” you glare at him. Mat props himself back and laughs, “Come on. I’m bored.”

You open your book again just as you reply in a tone that Mat’s getting used to hearing. “Boredom doesn’t give you the right to pester me, Barzal.”

And as an exchange, he speaks in the same tone rather mockingly, “And so is that attitude, Y/L/N.”

“Come on, y/n. Let’s go out.” he now pleads, looking up at you with what seems to be his worst impression of a ‘puppy eye’.

“Fine.” you finally concede and you see Mat’s beaming smile instantly.

“Where’d you want to go?” you ask as you take your reading glasses off.

“Dunno.” He shrugs, obviously teasing.

On the edge of being irritated, you say, “Are you kidding me?”

“Grandma.” he mumbles before saying, “Do you have anything you want to do? And please don’t say book hunt.”

You suppress a smile and maintain your composure. “I’m craving for pancakes right now but I also wanna drink. Go to a bar or something.”

He nods in agreement. Already stitching his game plan.

“We can do both.” he bobs his all too fine brows.

He didn’t have a hard time getting you on board with his spontaneity. You actually haven’t gone out in a while and the thought of a possible night out doesn’t seem to be so bad of an idea.

You’ve been with Mat to parties and while the two of you don’t mingle as much as the other guys did, he does know his way around the club. The dance floor, however, he tries. He really does.

For about an hour Mathew waited patiently in the living room as he scrolled endlessly on instagram liking a few photos and laughing at posts the fans tag him occasionally. His eyes were peeled away from the screen when he heard the door to your room click. His irises trail onto your body even if he didn’t plan to originally.

Mathew, albeit dressed simply in his black turtleneck sweater and a beige overcoat exudes just about the right ‘swag’ (as per how he puts it) to stop you in your stupor. Although what you didn’t know was how you weren’t any different in his eyes. You were dressed quite nicely in a black lace bodysuit with a pair of blackpants accentuated by the black boots you usually wear on a night out. Your coat was slung on your forearm whilst you held your clutch purse in your hand so you could close the door with the other.

“What?” you blink just as you look down to eye yourself. Feeling a tad self-conscious under his gaze.

Mat immediately breaks it off. He clears his throat, pretending to wipe off the non-existent dust on the accent table.

“What?” he mirrors with an arched brow.

You shrug off his demeanor, snatching your keys from the accent table before putting it in your purse.

“Have you called a lyft already?” he nods, absentmindedly scratching his temple.

“You ready? You look— decent.” He says, trying to act casual and distant when he gives you the compliment.

Not noticing the unfamiliar look his eyes had, you return the compliment and say, “And so do you. Good job for not looking like you came straight out of an H&M catalogue.” you wink at him with a grin. A thing which was then reciprocated by a deadpan look on his end.

Before he could even come up with yet another clever way to come at you, you start walking towards the door, looking at him once as you motion the way by curling your finger.

“Haul ass, buddy.”

𖥸

10:15 PM

Mat decided to bring you to the usual place he goes to when he wants to be alone and just enjoy a couple of beers while he chats with River, the bartender he eventually befriends after years spent drinking in solitude.

The bar had a rustic feel filled with wine barrels in the corner of the room. The seats were leather (mind you, it wasn’t the kind that gets easily worn out through time) and everything looked new to you regardless of all the vintage stuff displayed articulately on the brick wall. A turntable was set on the table stacked with vinyl records, most of which were from the 70s to 80s underneath.

It was obvious that it wasn’t the kind people would know about. Aside from it being located at such a secluded street leading to the suburbs, it wasn’t the type of bar kids would want to hang out in. It only had a few customers and most of them wore suits and came with company. No one really gave a hoot when you walked in with Mathew, aka, the face of the New York Islanders. Which is basically the reason why Mat kept coming back to the place. He felt comfortable and at peace. Almost in retrospect to being at home hanging with his father.

“I can’t believe this place exists.” you say, mouthing your thanks to River as he hands you both of your drinks. The man that’s definitely aged like fine wine smiles, nodding his head over to Mat who was doing the same before he headed back to mix another set of drinks.

“Me neither.” he grins, reminiscing about the time he’s found the small pub by accident.

“This place looks expensive though.” you whisper, making Mathew laugh.

“Well, it kinda is.” he sheepishly chuckles. “River’s filthy rich.”

“Is he really?” your mouth falls and you look back over the build of the old man. The way his salt and pepper hair was neatly slicked back makes quite a compelling case for what Mat had just said.

Mat eventually explains who he was. Apparently, he was just another bored fancy man who happened to love making people drop dead and drunk with his over the top mixes. His dark deep set brown eyes are quite of a crowd favourite too. Case in point, the group of ladies seated from across you and Mathew.

“Hey.” you absentmindedly call on Mat who had just sipped on his drink. “I know what we should do.”

“All right.” he puts the glass down, “Lay it on me.”

“Let’s fix you up with one of the girls over there.” you suggest, leaning towards his body so you could get a better view upfront. Mat does not move and instead follows your finger subtly pointing at the other end of the room.

“What’s with the sudden fixation of getting me bagged tonight, huh?” he smirks, shaking his head at the idea of having to go home with some random girl. You give him a side eye as you move away from him.

“Fixation is an overstatement. We’ll be here long enough for us to get sick of each other.” you explicitly told him.

Mat eyes you intently. Searching if there was even the slightest doubt in your eyes.

Long enough to get sick of each other.

He clears his throat instead and looks across the room. “Which one?”

A gleeful cheer erupts from you just before you look over the girls in question. “What’s your type?” you ask him, not sparing a glance.

Mat looks down on you underneath the bar lights accentuating your features. Your eyes had a certain glint in them that Mat still can’t get a grasp on. Something that was just enough to spark something inside him. He didn’t want to overthink it nonetheless. It must have been just the lights.

Once Mat sensed that you were about to look at him he immediately turned his gaze forward, squinting his eyes a little pretending to check out the women you’ve been eyeing for the last minute.

“I don’t really have a type.” he shrugs, casually taking the fragile glass to his mouth.

You dismiss what he said at once, “Do I look like a child to you? Just answer it.”

Mat shakes his head, “I told you. I don’t have one. If we vibe then we vibe. Simple as that.”

You did not believe him but you decide to drop it off. Instead, you look back and return to your new found mission. Across the bar, seated were three girls busy talking to each other.

“Got it.” you tell Mat, nodding your head towards the clueless girl sitting right across from where Mathew was. “The one in the center.” you add. “The one wearing a white bodycon.”

“She’s pretty.” he nods, validating your taste as his potential wingman. “Nice smile.”

Your hand met a firm slap on the table as you went on cheering for him. “Well? Go then!” you give him a nudge, taking it back quickly when you feel a slight hesitation on his part, “Don’t tell me you need me to introduce you?”

He takes the remainder of his glass and shaked off the kick it had in his throat. “You just sit and watch, babe.”

You do as you’re told and lean towards the bar, your elbow carrying all your weight whilst you sip on your half-full martini.

Mathew’s stance and the way he carries himself immediately caused the girls to notice him coming. Of course, you weren’t really surprised. You watch him approach her,– reading along the words leaving his mouth. There was an exchange of proper ‘hello’s’ as Mat introduced himself to the girls. He reaches out his hand and the curly noirette in the center gives him a firm shake.

Mat’s eyes momentarily locked with yours just as you see their hands linger in the air— tangled long enough for him to make a quick segway. He winks your way as he sees you grin from your seat, shaking your head just after you felt the need to take a deep breath. A thing you assumed to be because of the drink. So, while Mat leads the girl to one of the empty booths and sits across from her, you call on River and ask for another drink.

Mathew must have lost track of time by the second drink he shared with Zoe. He learns that she’s from upstate and was just on the island to visit her friends. She’s still working on her major at NYU; coincidentally in the same field as Lianna so that was one of the things they’ve talked about first hand. She wasn’t really into sports so Mat steered clear of his job because he didn’t want to bore her.

“So…” Zoe smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. “What’s the deal with you and the girl you’re with?”

By the time she asked about you, only then did Mat remember who he was originally with.

“Oh! She’s—” he looks over to where you’re seated only to find you laughing— no giggling with a man that was obviously a few years older than you. He’s wearing a neat black suit and a button down shirt with a couple of its first buttons opened. Zoe sees him frown, evidently losing his train of thought.

She calls him with her sweet voice, “Mat?”

“Yeah?” he absentmindedly answers, not wanting to take his eyes off of your hand that was now gently pushing the man’s arm whilst the two of you continue to burst into laughter.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

What’s so funny?

Finally, Mat hears Zoe’s distant voice that eventually took him back to his seat.

“Oh. Y-Yeah.” he apologetically smiles. “Sorry. What were you saying again?”

She hesitates to ask about you after taking a quick glance your way upon seeing the way Mathew looked at you. Nevertheless, she decides to go for it.

“Aren’t you two together? I don’t want to come off strong here or anything. It’s just that I don’t want to get in between something if there ever is.”

Mat looks at you one more time and as if you’ve felt his eyes all along you turn your way and meet his gaze. You shoot him a quiet smile, eyeing the guy sitting beside you, mouthing what he assumes to be an exaggerated “So hot!” on your end. He reciprocates your smile and gives you an approving nod.

Once you looked away, that’s the only time Mat finally answered the woman waiting patiently for his attention.

“What?” Mat shakes his head wildly, blowing out air off his lips defensively. “No no no. We’re just friends. She’s my roommate actually.” he shrugs you off his mind and instead tries to put his entire focus on her.

The remaining hours were spent with you and Mat getting along with your respective potential hook-ups. Not that it wasn’t the endgame either of you were hoping for at the back of your minds.

He’s got to admit that Zoe was the kind of girl he’d be interested in. Another fact he’s kept a mental tab not to mention to you because he knows you’ll just get cocky.

She was sweet and obviously eloquent. He knows she’s way smarter than he’ll ever be. But out of all those qualities, she was just as passionate at her craft as someone he likes to think he knows well enough. And that alone made a small smile creep on his lips.

Nonetheless, despite all the aforementioned, Mathew found himself a bit more reserved than he usually is whenever he gets to meet and talk to his potential ‘lady friends’ as how you’ve put it countless times. He just wasn’t his exact self. And he was beginning to question it.

There were no fancy hockey plays thrown subtly into the conversation. Neither mentions of golfing nor over the top league events. No butchered french pet names swiftly tucked in his sentences. And no endless questions that would eventually lead to something along the lines of ‘Do you want to get out of here?’

Well, not until Zoe’s friends got up their seats and she told him herself.

“Hey. The girls and I are meeting up with some friends in Brooklyn. D’ya wanna come?”

Mat’s eyes trail down to her hand now gently caressing his. He raises both his brows thinking of a possible ‘out’ because he wasn’t sure if it was a smart thing to leave you alone with a stranger.

He hums, “Sure.”

Zoe shows him a delighted smile before eventually sliding out of the booth to walk towards the bar she and her friends were formally seated.

“I gotta use the restroom first. Please excuse me.” she gives him a nod before going back to chatting with her friends.

You, on the other hand, see Mat leave the table aiming for an archway you presume to be where the loo was.

“Hey,” you call the man whose name you’ve already forgotten. Your pause was long enough for him to acknowledge the chances that you actually did forget who he was. Obviously.

“Chris.” The man in his early 30s answers with a submitting grin.

You shyly laugh, squeezing his forearm as you try to apologize for forgetting.

“Would you mind if I use the restroom?” you politely ask.

“No, not at all.” he replies and immediately stands to help you get on your feet. Gentleman.

Once you are in front of the men’s room, you anxiously wait for your wingman. You hug your purse close to your chest. Not a whole minute after, the door finally opens and you meet Mat’s irises with quite a gleeful look.

A look he wasn’t a fan of for he knew what’s about to come next.

“Are you taking off?” you eagerly ask, almost hopping on your feet.

Mat eyes you from head to toe, looking for signs that would stink from a drunk y/n. When he sees none, that’s when he decides to say that he was.

“Mkay good. I’ll be on my way too. Chris is taking me to New Jersey.” you tell him, briefly looking through the archway to see if there were people listening.

Once you know you’re clear, you lean towards Mat, your lips dangerously close to the sensitive skin of his ear. Mat feels your heated breath sending a familiar tingle up his spine. “I’ll get to ride a yacht tonight.” you bite your lower lip and giddily smile as if you were a cheeky 16 year-old usually depicted in a coming of age movie.

“Who’s Chris?” Mat, in spite of taking rounds observing you all night, finds the need to ask. “And why are you coming with him to NJ?” he further questions.

“Uh– okay, dad.” you step back for a second. You let out a scoff, checking if he was being serious about it. “I thought we’re supposed to go get laid tonight? Weren’t you about to take off with that girl yourself?”

Mat averts your gaze and starts to scratch the corner of his brow. “Well yeah. It’s just that— he looks sketchy.” he pauses, “plus… isn’t he a little too old for you?”

You roll your eyes as you’ve already expected to hear the words from him.

“He’s 31. He’s not that old.” you say rather defensively so you turn the ball back on his court. “And what if he was? Didn’t you ask one of the moms out??”

Mat’s eyes widens and you try to bite back a laugh. He whispers with a biting tone, trying to save himself. “She didn’t look like one! I’m gonna kill Beau I swear to god.”

“Come on Barz. Don’t be such a killjoy. Text me if you need anything, okay? Wrap things up while you’re at it.” you say at once. Mat doesn’t get the chance to talk you out of such a stupid idea because before he even could, you’ve already planted a kiss on his cheek and started walking away.

Mat waited for the sound of the heavy doors of the bar, signaling that you and your friend have gone, before stepping back to where Zoe was. She waves him near the coat closet.

“Hi.” Mat greets her friends before eventually turning his attention on the unsuspecting lass. She meets her with a smile (just like what she’s been doing all night). The same smile, however, drops the second Mat opens his mouth. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Zoe nods and willfully abides, letting Mat take her gently by the arm.

“What’s up?” she innocently asks.

“Something came up.” he says a little too fast than what he’d originally intended. He was going to let her down either way might as well get it over with and rip up the asshole band-aid.

“Oh.” she says in a tone Mat knew that she completely understood.

“No worries.” she looks at him with a knowing look in her eyes. “I’ll see you around then.”

He gives her a kind smile and nods. “Take care.”

Mathew walks towards the bar, catching River’s teasing grin whilst he cleans up after the bottles left on the center of the counter.

“What?” Mat reacts defensively, taking a seat in front of the lone bartender. River faintly shakes his head to leave just enough curiosity in Mathew’s mind.

“You’re such a tool, old man.” the kid says aiming for the cold beer River has put away for himself. River did not mind because he’s grown fond of the star player for the past years he’s spent going on late night drinks at his bar. Years that even justifies a proper amount of time for him to know the in’s and out’s of one Mathew Barzal.

“I haven’t said a thing.” he shrugs amidst the already wide grin on his face.

There’s wisdom in his eyes that Mathew has always admired. He wasn’t the guy who’d want to talk about what’s going on inside his head but with how River’s pub seems to be just the right place, he eventually concedes and takes a shot to pick on the old man’s brain.

“Come on, spill it out. I know you’re going to anyway.” Mat gives in, running his thumb on the moist label of the bottle.

River wipes his hands before resting it atop the counter. “Well, it’s just that– I ain’t used to seeing you turn down ladies like that too often. And you’re definitely not one to stick around watching me clean up.”

Mat stays silent for a moment, as if to gather the exact reason as to why he chose to stay. He still has a long way to go before figuring that one out. He wasn’t exactly as sharp as he was on the ice.

“I don’t know, man.” he chuckles tirelessly, “I guess I wasn’t in the mood. That’s all.”

“You?” River shots a brow and dismisses him, shaking his head. When Mat doesn’t answer, he carefully picks on his choice of words and lays it down carefully for him. After all, Mathew should have known that River was old enough to not know what’s going on.

“Though I gotta be honest with you, hijo. Never imagined you’d bring someone here.” he starts.

What must have been a shot in the dark for the old man was just enough to tear Mathew’s eyes away from staring at the water beads on the bottle.

“What?”

“The girl, Barz.” he says, banging on the head of the bottle to knock the cap off. “She a friend?”

“What? Y/N?” Mat quirks his brows trailing off where River was exactly headed, “What about her?— Oh, her? Yeah, no. She’s just a friend.”

“She pretty.” he speaks in a sound accent, not wanting to let Mat know he’s growing to like catching the young lad off guard. Mathew nods casually despite the continuous blabbering. “She’s y/n. But yeah— I guess, she is pretty.”

“Then what are you doing being just friends with a pretty girl?” River inquires, taking a sip of his beer. When he sees him trying to register what he’d just said he then adds, “Why not be with her? Date her?”

“Psh. What? Date y/n? That’s crazy.” Mat shakes his head furiously, “You’re crazy.”

“What’s so crazy about that?” River takes offense, laughing at the child’s naivete.

“I can’t date her. I mean— I won’t date her.” he takes the bottle to his mouth, taking a large gulp before continuing, “We’re in this weird relationship thing. A setup, actually, and it’s— it’s crazier than dating her. I swear, you of all people won’t get it.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” he smirks, “I’ve had my fair share of crazy.” River points out despite the hesitation in Mat’s eyes. “I got all night, kid.” he adds, letting him have the floor to himself.

“You really want in on this?” he second guesses, not wanting to bore the man with his personal life.

River leans against the brass counter just below the lit rack of vintage scotch displayed on the bar. He then gestures him to give a piece of his mind and Mat finally submits to his offer.

“We’ve been in a few… prior engagements,” he starts trying to find the appropriate word. “Well, sort of.”

River hums, not necessarily getting on the same page as him so he decides to be upfront about it.

“We’ve… slept together.” he confesses.

“So you used to date her?” the old man asks.

“No.” he answers, “I told you we’re just friends.”

With furrowed brows, River takes a minute. And once Mat hears an all too familiar “Oh.” he sees him break a chuckle, shaking his head at the thought of what Mat had just told him. “You kids have way too much fun these days.”

Mathew shrugs, “Hey, I warned you. Told you you wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay, make me understand something here. You two sleep together, fool around, do all that shit.” he says, “and you swear you’re not in a relationship?”

“Nope.” Mat answers with pride, popping out the word with a hard ‘p’.

“Huh.” River clicks his tongue, “How long have you two been… engaged?”

He rolls his eyes when River uses his word, “About two months.” he answers shortly.

“Is she seeing anyone since you two started this thing? You know, casual dates, the ones I presume she’s been getting before you got her into this mess?” he asks him in a tone that only fathers would ever dare to use.

Mat thinks for a moment, trying to recall the last time he’s seen a guy pick you up for dinner besides the old man you’ve successfully bagged for the night. He firmly shakes his head no and simply says, “At least not in my recollection.”

River willfully nods, walking Mat right into the trap. “Well have you been seeing anyone lately?” he asks again, this time slipping a hint of assertion. He hears a crystal clear ‘no’ from the forward and that’s when he broke a goading grin.

“And you’re telling me you two aren’t together?” he asks yet again, getting on Mat's nerves as he continues to flood him with biting queries, building up the final point he was about to break on Mathew.

“Rivs, for the hundredth time, no. We are not.” he clarifies.

Mat watches River pour himself a glass of scotch, still wearing a smug grin. “Imma give you a piece of advice, yeah?” he smiles rather teasingly and doesn’t wait for Mat to rebut, “I’m a happily married man so I don’t know a single squat about dating nowadays, but if you’re telling me that you kids aren’t sleeping with anyone else but yourselves? Looks like a damn relationship to me.”

With his brows all quirked in confusion (and denial in the very least), Mathew gathers all his might just so he could refute whatever madness River was trying to inflict on him and screw him up in the head. But before he could even open his mouth, the sound of the heavy doors was all it took to tear up both River’s and Mat’s attention.

“Hi.” you say the moment you were welcomed by unsuspecting men talking by the bar. River acknowledges you by raising his drink, his gaze landing on Mat the moment yours did.

“Hi.” Mathew mirrors you in an attempt to drown his already racing heart. A smile impending to break loose at any moment but he manages to suppress it. Instead of dealing with his adrenaline, he gestures for you to take a seat beside him.

“Where’s the sugar daddy?” he laughs the moment you drag yourself from across the room, mocking every word he said.

“His wife called when I got into his car.” you cringe.

“Oof. Lovely.” Mat makes the distinct expression on his face just before the two of you share a laugh.

“He’s not very smooth with adultery. He needs more practice.” you casually state sarcastically, clicking your tongue.

As you find the narrative funny, you take a sip on Mathew’s beer. “How are you not drunk? You’ve been drinking way too much the entire night.”

“Well. I’ve got some things to think about—” he cuts himself off upon seeing your mouth ajar, “And no, you’re not allowed to ask because none of it concerns you.”

“I wasn’t going to.” you dismiss him, excusing yourself to River which he gladly took as his cue to leave.

When he disappeared into the kitchen, you turned your gaze on your friend wearing another one of your mischievous grins, “Hey, wanna get pancakes?”

“Y/N, it’s almost 3 AM.” Mat sighs, the tiring night starting to creep up to him.

“So?” you question, swatting his hand away when you catch him checking on his watch.

“Come on. Stop drinking that.” you insist and take the bottle from his hand before putting it over to the side.

The two of you said your goodbyes to the lone bartender who was just starting to clean up again. River gives the two of you a nod of acknowledgement before landing a knowing look on Mathew. One that he’s thankful enough not to be discerned by you.

As you walk alongside Mathew, he unconsciously places a hand on the small of your back— feeling it graze on the fabric of your coat as if to guide you towards the door in an almost romantic type of way. Perhaps, a way someone would behave if they were actually in a relationship.

Mat notices your body tense but he doesn’t move an inch. Instead, his hand travels to the curve of your waist just as he leads you through the brass doors.

Once you’re out on the streets, he lets go.

𖥸

After almost half an hour of fighting over which diner is better to eat and get sober at, you and Mat decide to just try the new diner three blocks from your apartment. Being that it was an ungodly hour, the diner was good as closed when you got in. There were a few people inside and besides the student studying alone in the corner booth, the people lounging in the vacant seats were mostly just staff. Too bad they had to work the grave shift.

Mathew, who was rather preoccupied digging in his breakfast platter, gets interrupted when you call his attention.

“So tell me,” you ask as you take a forkful of syrupy pancake into your mouth. Finally satisfying your cravings. You put the food modestly in the insides of your cheeks when you ask him a question, “What are you like on dates?”

Mat disgustingly looks at you. You easily get what such a look meant and you immediately roll your eyes. You let your hand fall in mid-air amidst still holding a fork in it to prove a point. “I’m not trying to ask you out, dumbass. Don’t be so delusional.”

He puts his silverware down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Just curious.” you simply say.

He hums, thinking about how he pulls off a first date. He then clears his throat as he takes you down that road. “First, I’m not bringing her to a 24/7 Diner.” you nearly gag. “She deserves a formal one just in case there won’t be a second date.” he explains.

You sit there, nodding your head every now and then as he further goes on the details of how he’s like on a date. “Of course, I’d put my best foot forward all the time. Talk about her stuff more than mine and make sure she has a good time.”

“Have you ever had a bad first date?” you curiously ask. To which he only answers with a stubborn look on his face, the one only Mat Barzal could pull off. “What? me? I don’t do bad first dates.”

“Oh, fuck off.” you flick his forehead as you laugh. The sound of his laughter echoing in your ears, drowning all the existing noise inside the lone diner.

But as the laughter dies down, Mat catches your eyes as soon as it falls on his. And just like that, there it was again, the exact same glint it had back in the bar. This time, illuminated by the pink shaded light lining up the wall accents of the diner.

When he realizes that he’s been staring for too long, he settles on turning the tables on you.

“How about you?” he props in his seat, “What are you like on dates?”

“You know, apart from the fact that you’re obviously into old men.” he snickers and you throw a curly fry on his forehead.

“Excuse me, I don’t.” you say sticking up for yourself.

Mat takes the curly fry that has fallen on his plate and proceeds to eat it. “Sure you do.”

You roll your eyes, finding it hard to suppress the fact that you might actually do. “There’s a reason why women like old men, chico.”

He leans back and answers with a level headed and quite teasing reply, “And why’s that?”

“Because they’re men.” you look at him with a jerky grin as you continue, “And men, especially of River’s kind, definitely knows how to eat his french fry.”

Mat’s mouth falls wide in disbelief, appalled that you’ve actually found a way to pick up a stone and throw it straight to his face just to rub more salt on the fact that you had to teach a 23-year-old grown man how to eat cunt.

“You’re an ass.” he says, rolling his eyes. You let out a laugh and shake your head. You were proud of yourself, sure; but showing just that is far too much for a boy’s already hurting ego. Who would have known humbling this man was such a task.

“I’m playing! You know how to now.” you tell him, “Thanks to me, of course.”

He scoffs and takes a bite off his pancakes, “Cocky.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question.” he reminds you whilst he wipes off his lips with a napkin.

“There’s not much to tell. You know I’m not high maintenance.” you tell him, ignoring the fact that you haven’t been on an actual date for so long you’re almost sure you’ve forgotten how to be in one.

“I know it’s cheesy and corny but I do think it’s still in the littlest things, you know?” you sigh. Trying to remember the last relationship (date even) you had wherein those little things, the ones that are merely the bare minimum, were actually given to you.

“You know, it’s not much, really. Maybe just a good talk without having to watch him watch me talk all night when he’s really thinking about how I’d look naked, you know what I mean?” you laugh it off, “I know, it’s stupid.”

The arrogant man sitting before you was silent for once, profusely wanting to wash the pool of melancholy he sees in your eyes. There must have been a shit ton of guys who overlooked how great of a woman you actually are just because they couldn’t stop thinking with the head in between their legs even just for a second.

Mathew knows. And he hates that he’s been ‘that’ guy at some point. Probably until now considering him thinking with his balls on was the very thing that got the two of you here in the first place.

You take a deep breath, smiling. “Anyway, that’s better than almost getting with a married man. Right?”

“Right.” Mat laughs, his gray eyes bright under all the lights as he plays with his silverware,— devoid of how much he looked like as if he was utterly and undeniably in awe of not just the energy of the woman sitting in front of him alone nor the fact that she was by far the most unbelievable woman he’s known, but most importantly, he’s yet to realize how much in deep he’s beginning to be for the woman she actually were.

Just as she is.

𖥸

You left the diner a good hour before the sunrise and what must have been a quick five minute drive if you had only taken a cab, became a twenty minute foot race between you and Mathew.

You knew that walking was a bad idea but somehow, Mat’s charm and persuasive antics had a better hold than you thought you had on your very capable cognition.

As you drag your feet into the confines of the elevator in your complex, you hear Mathew chuckling behind you with a firm hand securely placed on your waist supporting your balance.

“You know— and not just ‘cause I’m an athlete, can I just say that you’re in a very bad shape?” he says almost a whisper in your ear, his voice low and deep.

You roll your eyes, leaning on the steel cold mirror once he pulls away, “You do it in heels then tell me who’s in a bad shape.”

“Fair point.” he chuckles yet again, shying away. He presses the number for your floor before resting across from you. As Mat watches you catch your breath, he jokes in the hopes of breaking the ice between the two of you.

“So…” he clicks his tongue, playful eyes looking at you, “Wanna tap?”

Disgusted to your very core, you let out a scoff just as you shake your head. “You’re fucking sick.” you laugh upon meeting his dumb grinning face. Seconds into laughter, Mat’s silence kills off the humor. The two of you exchange glances, the smiles on your faces receding into quietude.

Mathew didn’t want to end the night letting you in the apartment not knowing what he’s been feeling the moment you’ve let him drag you out for an impromptu night out. And stupid as it was, the only thing he could think of was to slide his foot across the enclosed space embracing the two of you, nudging on your boot. You on the one hand were rather puzzled as to what caused such language. You send him a mental query by arching a brow. He lets his head fall back on the cold metal surrounding the elevator finally deciding to speak his truth.

“I’m glad we get to hang out now. You know, just like friends do.” he genuinely says.

“Me too.” you say, smiling. “I really had fun tonight. Thank you.”

As you meet his eyes, you see a glimmer of softness in his gaze.

“Good thing I got bored, eh?” he says with a smirk.

“Good thing I came back for you.” you reply.

A quiet smile parts from his lips.

“Yeah. I’m glad you did.”

It was a few seconds when you and Barzy parted from your respective walls to meet the sliding doors as it opened on your designated floor. You were pulling him closer by the tie of his coat whilst his hand was instinctively placed on your hips letting him press his body on you. Your faces were inches from each other’s, evident of not wanting to prolong the totally unplanned foreplay that’s about to go down in a communal lift.

But just like every film you’ve watched your whole life, the inevitable cliché befalls the two of you when the next words that filled the enclosed walls you’re currently caged in came from the man who has yet to miss a morning jog.

“What the hell is going on here?”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #nhl fic #hockey smut #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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azucanela · 4 years

Note

OMG I AM OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING YOU ARE DEFINITELY ONE OF THE BEST WRITERS ON TUMBLR NO CAP!!! i love ur zuko fics, and i wanted to request some sokka x reader!!! i want u to have complete creative freedom but i love how you write slowburn omg so some enemies to friends to lovers sokka content would be insaneeee! maybe reader is fire nation (zuko’s cousin/iroh’s daughter??) but joins the gaang after crossroads or something?

AFTER | SOKKA X READER

SUMMARY: Sokka didn’t expect the girl who held a knife to his neck to be the same girl he’d fall for. Y/N didn’t really expect to fall either.

WORD COUNT: 10k

WARNINGS: injuries, implications of death, kisses, bloodbending, threats of bodily harm, death threats

A/N: time to give sokka the attention and hype he is OWED, also im SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGGG but this is quite possibly my favorite Y/N. writing for sokka is hard tho. im not sure how much i like this tbh but its really long omg. also thank you!!!! i feel honored to be considered the best :D you are too kind

When she was younger, Y/N joined Azula’s little troupe of girls. Though she wasn’t some loyal little soldier for her to order around, no, Y/N never feared Azula. Nor did she follow her blindly. No, it had always been a struggle for power between the two. Even when her father was booted from the throne as the rightful heir.

Losing her brother made her wonder if giving up like her father had in Ba Sing Se was the easy way out. Perhaps thats why she promised herself she would never give up. Maybe thats why she challenged Azula to... an unofficial duel when she’d heard her comment. Challenged her and won.

The new Fire Lord’s pride and joy had lost against his niece, a shame.

Y/N hadn’t thought much of it, but it probably would’ve explained why Fire Lord Ozai was rather pleased when Y/N had came to him and explained her intents to go alongside her father and cousin in banishment. She was, no matter how unlikely, another potential heir to the throne. And unlike Zuko, an actual threat. Sending her on a journey to find someone who’d been missing for a century was the best way to get rid of her.

If Y/N was honest, she viewed the banishment as more of a vacation. All her life, she had to deal with banquets, politics, war tactics, all at such a young age. It was tiring, and dull, spending day and night in the palace doing such things. Now, she had the opportunity to travel the world, though her grumpy cousin was rushing them throughout each spot, it was still nice. Zuko certainly didn’t think so, given that they hadn’t found the Avatar yet, not that Y/N believed they ever would but, it is what it is.

A sigh escaped her as she sat, on leg propped up against the other on the deck of the ship, they had arrived in the Southern Water Tribe after seeing an odd light in the distance. Maybe it was cruel, but Y/N sincerely hoped they didn’t find the Avatar. She didn’t want her vacation to end, she didn’t want to return to the politics, and she didn’t want to deal with one of the most powerful people on the planet. Aside from her own desires, Y/N couldn’t help but disapprove of Zuko’s need to please his father, the man who’d hurt him beyond forgiveness.

She sincerely doubted her father approved either. Though their relationship had been strained for some time now. Y/N didn’t hate her father, she doubted that was possible, he was a kind man and a good father. Things between them simply felt... off. She liked to think she’d gotten over it, the initial jealously she felt when she discovered her father intended to join Zuko on his hunt for the Avatar.

When she’d found out from Fire Lord Ozai.

Sometimes she wondered if her father even intended to say goodbye. But she wasn’t a fool, Y/N knew he had recently lost a son, they were both hurting and Zuko needed someone who wasn’t going to hurt him if he did something wrong. Though, Y/N saw him try to save the lives of the soldiers of the so-called great Fire Nation, not do something wrong. Regardless, Zuko needed a father figure, yes. But Y/N needed a father as she grappled with the death of her brother.

Maybe she was just a little bitter about it.

“Are you coming?” Zuko asked, his words coming out harshly.

Raising a brow, Y/N shook her head, “no. Don’t get too violent, though.” She warned, looking at him pointedly, “they’re a small tribe that’s going extinct.”

Zuko rolled his eyes as he exclaimed, “that’s not my fault!”

Sitting up to face him, Y/N smacked him upside the head as she walked past him, “considering the royal family, which you are a part of need I remind you, ordered the genocide of every single Waterbender they had...” She paused, cracking her knuckles before turning to look back at Zuko, “I would say you that everyone here probably blames you for it by assosiation.” Y/N reasoned. She had never liked the history that her ancestors had, much less approved.

Taken aback, Zuko exclaimed, “you’re a part of the royal family too!” Y/N was well aware of the circumstances surrounding his banishment, he’d tried to save lives, but war was the only thing that mattered to the Fire Nation it appeared.

His attempt at defense simply earned him a shrug, “perhaps.” Y/N didn’t consider herself a member of the royal family, and she doubted her father did either. And no matter what Zuko thought, though he was royal by blood, his banishment severed his ties to the throne permanently.

Unless they happened to find the Avatar, though that wasn’t very likely, Y/N decided she would rethinking her life choices should the Avatar be here of all places, as she rested her forearms on the side of the ship and watched Zuko march down his soldiers.

She wasn’t going to tell him that the Southern Water Tribe didn’t have a military, much less benders. As previously mentioned, the genocide destroyed the benders, and the most of the soldiers in the village had headed off to fight in the war against the Fire Nation. Though her brow did raise as she watched him yank an old lady from the small crowd of people, Y/N straightened her back, preparing to get involved.

Of course, a young warrior ended up running at her cousin, war paint and all as he attempted to attack. Key word being attempted. Watching him fall face first into the snow, Y/N realized he wasn’t a warrior, but a boy. The Avatar also happened to be a boy. A very, very young boy. Not a century year old Airbender.

Y/N supposed it was time to start rethinking her life.

Sokka didn’t know what he was supposed to do as he helped Princess Yue onto the Sky Bison. They needed to find Aang’s physical body, quickly, otherwise he wouldn’t be returning to the real world, and they happened to be fresh out of Avatars up until recently so that wasn’t really an option. Not when they needed the balance of the world to be restored immediately.

Sighing, Sokka moved to get onto the Sky Bison, only to be yanked backwards, stumbling before having a knife pressed to his neck. “What the hell!” He exclaimed in shock, garnering the attention of the others that were already on Appa. Katara’s mouth gaping open at the sight of him as Princess Yue cried out in shock.

The knife against his neck is certainly uncomfortable, and he realizes that he probably should’ve stuck around Kyoshi Island long enough to learn how to get out a situation like this. “I’m coming with you. Someone has to make sure Zuko doesn’t do anything else dumb.” Comes a voice from behind him, and Sokka’s brows furrowed in confusion, who was this? And why were they trying to kill him? More importantly, how did they know Prince Zuko, the guy who had been chasing them since Aang had come out of that iceberg. Questions ran rampant through his mind, and he nearly forgot that his life was being threatened.

That was a luxury he couldn’t afford at the moment.

Though he couldn’t see the person behind him, he could see Katara grimace at her demand, anyone associated with Prince Zuko likely had a similar end goal, to capture the Avatar. This wasn’t something they could allow, and Sokka recognized this as Katara asked, “why should we trust you?” Katara’s eyes soon met Sokka’s and he knew that no matter what he said, she would give into the girl’s demands for his safety. Sokka mentally scolded himself for failing to prevent this situation.

The girl behind him scoffed, “unlike my dear cousin,” Sokka couldn’t help the shock that flooded him, cousin? As in Zuko is this girl’s cousin? Or did she mean someone else? He was kidding himself, there was no one else it could be. “I like banishment, it’s like a fun little vacation. I could care less about the Avatar.” The knife draws in closer to Sokka’s neck, nearly drawing blood, likely expressing the fact that she could care less if Katara believed her. Though Sokka doubted she didn’t care about the Avatar, he was one of the most important people in the world.

But Sokka would likely die if she didn’t agree, or at least end up fatally injured. No matter how far Katara had come with her Waterbending, she hadn’t perfected it yet, and healing was only so effective. Sokka sincerely doubted she could beat the speed of this girl and her weapon considering the fact that she’d gotten the jump on them the first time around. Death wasn’t something he wanted, but anyone who knew Zuko couldn’t be trusted, much less someone who shared his blood. If he turned out... like that, Sokka didn’t want to imagine how this stranger ended up.

“Don’t try anything.” Katara warned, eyeing the girl wearily. Though it was an empty threat for the most part, in the air, there was little Katara could do against a foe. Though three, well two if you exclude the princess, against one seemed like favorable odds, this girl seemed talented in combat, even without bending.

She released Sokka, and he turned to see her beaming up at Katara, “happy to be doing business with ya.” Turning to Sokka, she looked him up and down, sizing him up before speaking, “be a gentleman and help me up?” Yeah, she was crazy. The pretty ones are always crazy. That, and she was Zuko’s cousin, it made sense. Though Sokka was fairly sure that she was joking, you could never be too sure.

“Who even are you?!” He exclaimed, exasperated and preparing to whip out his boomerang as he glared at her. He didn’t recognize her, but she’d likely been traveling with Zuko for quite some time now if they were related.

She just shrugged, “you can call me Y/N.” She got onto Appa with ease, Katara on guard a she eyed her, eyes piercing into her soul, Y/N raised a brow upon noticing this, “calm down. I wouldn’t have killed him.”

Katara inhaled deeply, trying to maintain patience as Sokka got into the saddle, “yip, yip.”

Y/N wasn’t really shocked when it turned out Azula was after them. Of course good old Uncle Ozai sent his most valuable asset to bring them back. Though some good at come of it, Zuko cut his ponytail, something Y/N had taken pleasure in bullying him over. Now they were on the run, in the very city that her father had tried to run to the ground all those years ago.

Irony at its finest.

Tugging at the sleeves of her Earth Kingdom garments, Y/N sighed, walking through the streets of the city. She didn’t know where she was if she was honest, and standing in the beautiful plaza, Y/N wondered if maybe, it would be better if she never returned back to that horrid apartment. Her father was starting over, getting them all jobs at a tea shop, even Zuko had tried to move on, going out on a date with a girl.

The Earth Kingdom was an odd place, but here, no one knew who she was. It wouldn’t be difficult to restart, alone. Without the expectations she’d been raised with. Fists balling up, Y/N exhaled slowly, turning a corner. There wasn’t graffiti in this part of the city, she realized, staring at the walls. Though there was an odd poster, squinting at it, she moved closer. It was a poorly drawn image of-

A Sky Bison. The same one she’d ridden on back during the Siege of the North, not that any others existed, the Sky Bison were a dying breed. Which could only mean one thing, the Avatar was in Ba Sing Se.

"Have you seen him?” She heard from behind her. Y/N recognized the voice, it belonged to the boy she’d held at knife point, “the drawing isn’t my best but-”

Turning around she spoke rapidly, “don’t freak out.” This was a problem.

Y/N liked to think she was the least threatening of the Royal Family, aside from her father that is. Though they could both be lethal in their own ways, neither demonstrated the true extents of their power unless it was truly necessary. Maybe that’s why Y/N hoped that the boy, Sokka, she believed his name was, wouldn’t freak out.

Of course, he did. Dropping the posters in his hand, he opened his mouth, likely to scream, only for Y/N to practically tackle him. She slammed his body against the wall, covering his mouth with her hand as she glared at him. Sokka let out a grunt of surprise, immediately beginning to struggle in her hold, “calm down! I don’t have a knife this time around.” Y/N cried out, her voice a hushed whisper. Of course, what she said was a lie, she always had at least three weapons on her. Upon entering the city, she’d knocked that number down to only two weapons, much to her dismay and Iroh’s relief.

She felt him lick her hand, and she quickly removed her hand in disgust, while keeping the other planted on his shoulder, they both exclaimed, “what the hell!”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed at her, “look. I don’t wanna cause a scene, so I’m just gonna go-” He sighed when her hand remained on his shoulder, firmly holding him against the wall as he tried to move away only to be pushed back into the wall. “Or not.”

“Look, you cannot go back to your little group and tell them that I’m here.” Y/N tried to choose her words carefully, if she didn’t need to, she didn’t want to suggest that her father and Zuko were also in the city. “I’m trying to have a permanent vacation, away from the Fire Nation and my crazy family, in Ba Sing Se.” She explained, slowly removing her hand from his shoulder, “think you can respect that?”

He looked at her wearily, during their last interaction, she’d made no attempts to actually injure them. And when she had the Avatar right in front of her, unlike Zuko, she hadn’t tried to kidnap him. Y/N had been honest last time, and chances were, she was being honest now. That didn’t make him feel any better about trusting her though.

“How do I know you won’t follow me and kill me in my sleep?”

Y/N looked at him incredulously, “is that a joke?” She’d considered that too though, the possibility that he’d follow her back to her shared apartment and alert his friends of their location. Y/N refused to be the reason that they lost their new lives in Ba Sing Se, and had already decided to check into an inn for the night.

Raising a brow at her, Sokka gestured for her to give him an answer, and Y/N stared at him momentarily, “well. How do I know you won’t kill me in my sleep?” Y/N retorted.

Sokka rolled his eyes at her, “I’m a good person.” Came his response.

“Debatable.”

Sokka stared at her in disbelief, “I’m trying to save the world here!” He exclaimed, and Y/N wasn’t shocked by his response, her goal had been to fluster him and she had.

Tilting her head at him, Y/N replied, “sure.” Stretching her arms upwards, she waves to him, “don’t tell your friends I was here, and we’re good.” She began to walk further into the alley, towards the other side, “see you around.” If he was here, his friends were probably around the area as well, meaning she had to leave.

His mouth gaped open and he stared at her figure as she stalked off, pausing momentarily before groaning and running after her, ending up at her side. “What do you mean, sure?” Sokka asked, confusion laced in his tone.

Y/N raised a brow at him. “What are you doing?” She wanted to laugh at his reaction, though he was now following her liked a lovesick puppy, which could prove problematic.

Crossing his arms he responded, “making sure you don’t do anything bad.” Sokka eyed her suspiciously, “because I am a good person.” He asserted.

“And I’m a bad person?”

She already knew he was going to say, ‘yes, yes you are.’ After all, she was from the Fire Nation, and Y/N had no doubt she’d done terrible things in her life, especially when she’d fallen into a dark place and taken on... less than favorable coping mechanisms.

And he’s silent for a moment, leaving Y/N to wonder if he suddenly cares about the feelings of the enemy. Only for him to say, “in my experience... good people can do bad things.”

That wasn’t what she expected. Y/N found herself stunned, speechless as she looked to Sokka, though he simply continued to walk alongside her nonchalantly. Quickly collecting herself, she looks away from him and to the nearby food stand, “that didn’t answer my question.” And as Sokka opened his mouth to likely continue his statement, Y/N realized she didn’t want to know the answer as she spoke, “you want food? I want food. Let’s get food.”

Sighing, Sokka followed her, “as long as you don’t poison me.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed at his comment, looking back at him, “do you-” A small laugh escaped her, “do you think I just carry around poison?”

Sokka didn’t know why he swelled with pride when he made her laugh, “in case you run into your enemies, absolutely.” It was probably because she was the enemy, and it took real talent to make someone who hated you laugh.

“How often do you think I run into my enemies and invite them to get food with me?” She asked, picking up a few things from the stand, before heading over to pay.

Frowning, Sokka watches her pay, “I thought we were bonding over,” he paused to take a meat bun from her and shove it into her face dramatically, “meat! Yet, I’m still your enemy.”

Y/N simply shrugged, “this is a one time thing.”

It was not a one time thing.

Sokka found himself ‘coincidentally’ running into Y/N, more and more often. She’d be walking through the streets of the upper ring about once a week, though she had started walking through the streets of the inner ring of Ba Sing Se far more frequently than normal in recent weeks. He’d been meaning to ask her why, maybe she’d also grown accustomed to their meetings and started to come around more. During their meetups they’d talk, about things other than the war, which was a conversation difficult to come by with the others. Though he cared for his friends, talking to Y/N felt different, a good different. She wasn’t overbearing like Katara, or mean like Toph, but she also wasn’t as passive as Aang.

It was odd. Knowing someone who had once held a knife to your neck in a more friendly way. Though, if Sokka was honest, he didn’t trust her, and she likely didn’t trust him either. They’d both taken precautions due to the mistrust between them, not that be blamed her. At the end of the day, they were still on opposing sides, kind of. Y/N had never seemed to care about finding the Avatar, but she was certainly loyal to her family above all else.

She’d demonstrated that in the Northern Water Tribe.

Sokka was the same, if he had saw an inkling of betrayal as a possibility, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell the others. Their safety was his priority at the end of the day, and Y/N didn’t owe him anything, just like he didn’t owe her anything. Maybe that was the beauty of it all. But for now, everything remained peaceful, calming, and simple.

Of course, all good things must come to an end.

Katara had oddly disappeared after Aang arrived with news of his vision. And then, as though things couldn’t get any weirder, Iroh arrived, Y/N’s apparent Father Iroh. Toph seemed to know him well, which certainly came as a shock to Sokka and Aang. “I need your help, Prince Zuko has been captured.” He explained, opening his mouth to continue only for Sokka to interrupt. He couldn’t help it when his brows furrowed in both confusion and frustration, Y/N had never suggested that the rest of her family was here.

“Are you crazy? You guys were trying to capture Aang not to long ago!” Sokka pointed out, throwing his arms outwards, “why not get Y/N to help?” She was certainly capable of raiding the palace and retrieving her cousin.

At this comment, Iroh’s face darkened, “we were separated in the palace. I’m unsure if they managed to capture her or if she escaped.” Oh. So that’s what he was going to say.

Sokka couldn’t help it when his face dropped, looking to Iroh he exclaimed, “well- why didn’t you lead with that!” Pushing past Aang who had been prepared to start giving a speech on why they should assist Iroh, only for his mouth to gape open as Sokka headed for the door.

“Why are you so eager?” Toph asked as they began to follow him out the door.

He faltered, quickly trying to think up a good excuse as he replied, “no reason.”

Toph’s frowned, “I can tell when you’re lying Sokka.” She reminded him.

“We can discuss this later!” He exclaimed, flustered. “Let’s go.”

Y/N had contemplated killing Zuko before.

It had never really been serious, as far as she would’ve gone was maybe injuring him badly enough that she got her point across. But at the end of the day, she protected Zuko to the best of her ability, and tried to keep his mind from being poisoned by the Fire Nation ideals that she’d once lived by unquestionably.

Now she actually wanted him dead. He stood alongside Azula, who had offered Y/N her spot in her little gang hours ago, though she’d rejected the offer much to Azula’s chagrin. But she seemed sure that Y/N would accept some time soon. Perhaps it was because Zuko had betrayed her father and left him to the Dai Li.

He had betrayed her father, the man who had practically raised both of them.

Y/N had a violent past, she wouldn’t deny, and she liked to think that she was past all that. But looking at the situation ahead of them, watching the Waterbender, Sokka’s sister, Katara, cry over the body of the Avatar, she realized that maybe violence was the answer. Just this once.

So, when she hopped in front of them, she had a plan. A violent one.

“Pull yourself together.” She snapped at Katara, who looked up at her, bloodshot eyes and tears streaming down her confused face, “he’s getting out of here alive. But first, I need you to soak them.” Y/N gestured towards the troops coming towards them, Zuko and Azula accompanying them. Katara opened her mouth, and Y/N didn’t care what she was going to say as she ordered, “now!”

Katara’s brows drew together as she released the Avatar’s head onto her lap, raising her hands to use the waterfall behind them to successfully drench the soldiers, who groaned at the discomfort but pausing temporarily before they continued towards them. “What did you think that would accomplish? What a pitiful-” Azula’s taunts were paused when she watched as Y/N drew her hands together, inhaling deeply, and Azula stopped her movement. “That’s not possible.”

Suddenly, lightning was between Y/N’s fingertips, and she extended her hand into the large puddle of water that Katara had created. Y/N had learnt to bend lightning soon after she’d mastered Firebending, from her father, he’d insisted that she only use it when necessary, so she kept her ability to herself. This was necessary, she decided, hand touching the water and sending a shock throughout everyone with it, successfully putting all of the soldiers out of commission.

Unfortunately, Azula recognized the signs of lightning bending, and withdrew alongside Zuko, and the two were now coming to attack from above at a rapid rate. Y/N whipped her head around to see Katara, mouth gaped open at all the fallen soldiers. “You two need to leave, I’ll hold them off.” She began to move to create another strike of lightning

“No.” Called out another voice, and Y/N whipped her head over to see it was her father, Dai Li agents likely nearby as he moved in front of Y/N. “You all need to leave. Take Y/N with you, she will help the Avatar reach his destiny.” Y/N wanted to laugh at that, how could he be so sure? If the boy did die, then this would all be for nothing

Y/N scoffed, “are you crazy?” She moved closer to her father, “unlike Zuko, I’m not leaving you.” She exclaimed, exasperated.

Iroh simply smiled at her as he said, “I’m proud of you, Y/N.”

Sokka knew he seemed dumb. He knew how others perceived him, as the ‘extra’ member of Team Avatar, the useless one, because he lacked bending. At the end of the day, Sokka was the brains of their operations, he was observant, and this helped him develop plans that most people would never even consider.

Not that anyone else knew, but Sokka was the only one that had actually interacted with Y/N prior to what happened in Ba Sing Se. Sure, they’d all met once or twice in the past, but Sokka had a knife to his throat then, so Y/N probably didn’t seem that appealing to the others. And he doubted they understood how odd it was that she was so... apathetic. Normally she’d tease, and joke alongside him but now?

It was odd, and nobody else could notice the shift in her personality but him, and he was concerned. Y/N had lost her father, and been betrayed by her cousin, and she had yet to talk about it, at all. Sokka liked to think that they were close enough to discuss such things, and he’d tried to get some sort of emotion out of her, the key word being tried.

Despite her apathetic personality, the others had warmed up to her for the most part. Apparently Toph had met Y/N in the past, during the time she’d run off and encountered Iroh. So, the two got acquainted fairly fast, Aang was happy to have a Firebender, and insisted that once he was back to full strength, and they’d found a better place for practice, he’d learn Firebending from her. Y/N had agreed but it was clear Aang wasn’t as excited as he was acting, Sokka figured he still associated the time he hurt Katara with Firebending.

Katara had been far less weary of Y/N than Sokka had expected, but given what Katara had told him when she’d first joined, that made sense. Y/N was a powerful Firebender who had betrayed her entire nation to help save Aang’s life, and though Katara didn’t approve of everything she’d done in the past, she tolerated her. Which was better than nothing in Sokka’s book.

They were currently camped out in the woods beside a Fire Nation town, everyone had scattered to prepare for the few nights they’d likely stay in the area. Katara had gone to the town with Toph and Aang, in search of supplies and food, while Sokka and Y/N set up the camp and collected wood to help start a fire. Y/N had insisted that she could maintain the fire without any wood, but Sokka viewed this as an excuse to get her alone and force her to discuss her feelings.

“So...” Sokka mumbled, looking to her as she leaned down to pick up another piece of wood, “lovely weather we’re having.”

Y/N turned to him, raising a brow before nodding, “yeah.” It was clear she wasn’t entirely paying attention the nonsense that was coming out of his mouth as he tried to get her to listen to him.

Sokka grabbed another piece of wood, “how have you been?”

Tilting her head at him in confusion, Y/N brought another piece of wood into her arms, “fine.” Looking up at the dimming sky she frowned, “we should start heading back to that spot we’d found earlier.” Y/N turned to begin walking, and Sokka struggled to match her pace.

His brows furrowed in frustration as he stared at her, the light of the falling sun filtering in between the trees and onto them. Y/N seemed to glow as she maneuvered between the trees, “how have you been sleeping?” Even Sokka sounded confused at the question he asked, but he didn’t know how to broach the topic with Y/N.

She simply paused her movement, turning to him, he stumbled slightly due to the abrupt stop, and met her eyes. “Just ask what you wanna ask, Sokka. Stop dancing around whatever it is.” Y/N sounded tired, looking to him expectantly as she awaited his question. Sokka scolded himself for being so obvious that she’d noticed something was up.

He sighed, “are you okay?” And she opened her mouth to respond but he continued, “actually? You can say that you are okay, and not mean it. Y/N you lost your dad and were betrayed by your cousin, and you-” Sokka grimaced as he met her eyes, “you haven’t been the same since you joined us.”

Y/N is silent for a moment, then her eyes were piercing into his, “how would you know that I haven’t been the same?” She asked, turning away to continue walking back to the chosen campsite, “it’s not like you know me.” His statement had set her off it appeared, but her response had easily done the same for him.

“Are you serious? Not like I know you?” He scoffed, jogging to catch up with her, “I know that you do whatever it takes to protect the people you care about. I know that you really like Earth Kingdom food because most of the food within the Fire Nation is on the spicier side.” Y/N didn’t seem to be listening, and the camp was in sight, but Sokka continued, “I know that you get really cold easily unless you regulate your body temperature with your Firebending. And I know that you can’t pick a favorite color because you are very indecisive.”

Aggressively, Y/N dropped the sticks into the center of the campsite as they arrived, turning to him, “you can stop now.” Her voice was almost taunting as she spoke, sarcastic in a way.

Sokka simply followed suit, placing the firewood in the center and facing her head on, “and most importantly, I know what it’s like to lose someone.” He takes her hand, and Y/N practically growls at the contact, attempting to yank her hand out of his grasp, she ends up pulling him closer towards her. Sokka clumsily topples onto her, knocking the both of them down into the dirt with a grunt. His forearms preventing him from crushing Y/N under his body weight as he held himself up, his eyes meet hers.

Y/N finds herself glaring daggers at him, while Sokka finishes his little speech with, “you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

And in that moment, he looks at her, really looks at her. And she’s really pretty.

Y/N opens her mouth to say something to him, only for someone else to begin speaking, “are we interrupting something?” Toph. Looking up, Sokka sees the others as well, Aang looks rather smug as he wiggles his eyebrows at Sokka, and Katara gives him a pointed look, likely disappointed that he’d fraternizing with the former enemy. He can’t help it when he feels his cheeks warm, and before he can move to get off Y/N, she’s launched him off of her, and he’s flat on his back on the ground. Toph laughs at the actions, bending a seat of earth for herself and the others before falling backwards into it, the girl seems to wish she had popcorn as she watched the moment unfold.

“No.” Y/N mumbles, bringing herself to her feet and dusting herself off. “I’ll be in my tent if you need me.” She retreats into one of the tents they’d set up earlier, and Sokka groans as he lets his head fall backwards into the ground and runs his hands over his face.

When he removes them, Aang is standing over him, along with Toph, while Katara organizes the firewood. “So... did we interrupt something?” Toph asked.

Sokka just sighs, his plan failed. This time at least. Next time, his goal would be to make her laugh, to make her smile. At least she had expressed some emotion, anger was better than nothing.

Anger seemed to turn to annoyance, since Y/N doesn’t leave her tent until nightfall and Sokka can’t help but wonder what was entertaining enough to keep her in there for all that time. When she does exit, she uses her Firebending to light a fire, and uses the firewood they’d collected earlier to ensure it stays alight. The rest of the group was seated around the center of the campsite, and Sokka wonders if she’s going to go back to her tent when she realizes the only open seat is next to him.

She doesn’t return to her tent though and he’s grateful. Though she sits as far as possible from him on the bench that Toph had created, half-heartedly listening to the things that the others are saying. Y/N can feel herself getting cold and can’t help the resent that bubbles up in her chest as she recalls what Sokka send earlier. Exhaling deeply, a puff of blue fire escapes her mouth and Y/N feels nauseous at the small reminder of Azula.

This catches Sokka’s attention, though the others are too enraptured in the story Aang was telling, Sokka turned to her, “cold?” He asked, leaning to the side to grab a blanket from his small pack, he offers it to her.

Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to regulate her temperature when she fell asleep, but accepting the blanket from Sokka felt like... it felt like accepting him and everything he had said about her. So, when she doesn’t take the blanket from his hands, Sokka sighs, moving to put it back, only for Y/N to snatch the blanket from his hand and wrap it around herself begrudgingly.

This was her way of apologizing, moving closer to Sokka on the small bench she huffed as she pulled the blanket tighter around herself and turned her attention to Aang. She’d been mean, she wouldn’t deny, but what was she supposed to say? Exhaling deeply, Y/N closes her eyes temporarily, allowing drowsiness to consume her for a moment, before looking back to Aang.

It isn’t until Sokka feels a weight fall onto his shoulder midway through his own story that he realizes Y/N has fallen asleep, his mouth gaping open in shock as he pauses his words. He quickly shakes off the shock, cheeks warming as he turns back to the rest of the group, who all regard him curiously. Aang once again wiggles his eyebrows and Sokka ignores the action, continuing his story. Though he’s more weary of his vivid hand movements in fear of awakening Y/N, and noticeably quiets his voice. Sokka finds himself wishing he was Y/N as he listens to Katara’s Water Tribe horror story intently, after all, this is the most peaceful he’s ever seen her.

It doesn’t last long, because she’s soon startled awake, hand going to her side where she keeps her dagger as she and Toph speak simultaneously, “someone’s coming.”

As an old woman emerges from the shadows, Sokka practically holds Y/N down to keep her from lunging at her and attacking as the woman speaks. And of course, Y/N’s distaste for the woman doesn’t stop there, even when she invites them into her home, though Sokka doesn’t blame her. She’s a suspicious woman.

It’s not until he and Aang are attacking each other that Sokka regrets preventing Y/N from attacking the old woman when she had the chance. Katara is struggling to move, and Sokka can only hope that Toph and Y/N return from the cave soon as he yelps upon nearly making contact with Aang, the old woman laughing cynically. Sokka watches as she shifts, hand outstretching behind her, “don’t think I forgot you little Firebender.”

His eyes widen in both shock and fear as Y/N’s body is suddenly thrown onto the ground in front of him. Her body rising almost mechanically, back to a stand, Sokka realizes there’s lightning at her fingertips, the woman manipulating her body to aim for Sokka. “A shame you’ll be the woman to end your friend’s life isn’t it,” She’s making eye contact with Katara who is crying out and begging for her to stop.

Sokka can see the panic in Y/N’s eyes as the her hands aim towards him, “Y/N. It’s okay.” He calls out her, in an attempt at assurance that he doubts does much to soothe her. “It’s okay.” He repeats, squeezing his eyes shut as he prepares for the lightning to hit him. Except it never does, instead, it goes upwards into the sky as Y/N cries out in pain, having moved her body despite the woman blending her blood.

She had overpowered Hama’s bloodbending, something that clearly came as a shock to the old woman as Y/N turned around sluggishly, staring at the shocked old woman as blue fire left her mouth once more, chest heaving. Sokka could feel the weight on his bones slowly disappear, leaving behind an ache, the woman likely intended to focus her abilities onto Y/N, who was struggling to walk towards her.

“Scared?” Y/N asked, looking up at the woman, “you should be.”

The next time that Team Avatar feared Y/N. She was face to face with Zuko.

He’d approached them as they sat in the Air Temple. And Y/N had practically jumped out of her seat, preparing for a fight as lightning seemed to dance at her fingertips. Though Sokka knew better than to allow her to attack her cousin, and grabbed her arm. “Can you guys handle this?” He asks the others, maintaining eye contact with Y/N. The others looked to them understanding what would likely occur if Y/N was allowed to be involved.

Zuko wouldn’t walk away from that fight.

“We got this Sokka.” Katara assured, pure hate in her eyes as she stared Zuko down, and Sokka couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he should remove both of them from the situation.

Sokka’s hand found Y/N’s, and it was almost burning hot, a sparks seeming to fly between them, he pulls at her hand. Y/N hesitantly allows him to drag her away, though she turns back momentarily to meet Zuko’s eyes. “I’ll kill you later, cousin.” She promises, and her voice is scarily calm. “For my father.” The condescending tone in her voice and the wince Zuko has in response is enough for Sokka to know that her intent was to hurt him emotionally if she couldn’t do it physically, and it was clear she had been successful.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N closes her eyes temporarily as Sokka brings her into one of many abandoned rooms in the temple, sitting her down onto a bed before kneeling down in front of her. “Are you good?” He asks.

“That’s a stupid question.” Comes her response.

Sokka tilts his head at her, giving her a smile, “well I’m a stupid guy.”

He’s rubbing gentle circles in her hand as she shakes her head, a small laugh escaping her, “no you’re not.” Her voice cracks and she cringes at the sound so she clears her throat, staring at the wall beside her. Sokka can’t help the way his heart swells at this comment, because for once he doesn’t feel like the comic relief, he doesn’t feel like the side character. Though he appreciates the rest of Team Avatar and loves them all dearly, at times, they didn’t take him seriously.

Y/N makes him feel important. Though he doesn’t say this as he looks at her, clearly shaken by Zuko’s sudden appearance, she speaks once more, “are you sure I can’t kill him?”

This time Sokka laughs, shaking his head, “I’m sure Katara would love to help you with that, but I doubt Aang would approve.”

Y/N nods slowly, letting out a shaky breath as a tear escaped her, though she quickly wiped it away and looks to the ground. “You wanna sit with me?” She asks, patting the spot on the bed beside her.

“Sure.” He replies softly, moving to sit on the bed with her. One he’s situated, Y/N leans her head onto his shoulder, and Sokka finds his hand wrapping around her waist. And they sit like this for several moments.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N removes her head from his shoulder and looks to him, “thank you.”

Sokka raises a brow, “for what?”

“Being here.” She replies, bringing her hand to move a hair from his face, Sokka watches her actions intently and in awe. “With me.” Her hand remains on his face for longer than necessary, and when she moves to let it fall back into her lap, Sokka’s hand cups hers.

They’re both silent when Sokka’s hand releases hers, and his other hand leaves her waist, both coming to her face. The look in his eyes tells her enough, and she nods to him.

The kiss felt like the first breath of fresh air in a while. Maybe it’s because it had been long overdue, but as Y/N brought her hands to his arms to pull him closer, she felt her head empty of all thoughts.

He pulls away momentarily, their foreheads resting against each others, he can see her eyes are shut, lashes pressed against her cheeks. “I hope,” Sokka pauses, and her eyes flutter open to look at him, he can feel his cheek warm as he continues, “I hope I can always be here, with you.” It’s a confession in its own way, and Sokka understands the weight of his words as he watches her reaction.

She opens her mouth, likely to reply, be closes it quickly, and Sokka can’t help the panic that floods him. Though this is quickly replaced by the feeling of her lips on his as her hand collides with his chest and pushes him down on the bed, earning a grunt from him.

“Guys, Zuko is gone-” Y/N throws herself onto the floor as she rolls off Sokka, and he sits up immediately. “Am I interrupting something now?” Aang asked, giving Sokka a look.

Y/N clears her throat, “no.” Sokka couldn’t help it when his brows drew together at this comment, bringing a hand to his temple as he sighed, and Y/N stood, dusting off her thighs as she mumbled, “see you guys later.”

She started avoiding him after that.

When Zuko joined the group, she’s also made a point to avoid him no matter how hard he tried to apologize to her. And of course, when Sokka first showed him to his room they had a... chat. To put it simply, Sokka had threatened him.

Just a little.

“So yeah, here it is, your room.” Gesturing to the room, Sokka gave Zuko a tight lipped smile, watching him wearily.

Zuko’s back was to him as he placed his stuff down, “thank you.” He said, expecting that to be the end of it, upon hearing the door close he assumed Sokka had left.

When he turned around, Sokka was still very much there. “Let’s have a chat, Prince Zuko.” It didn’t go unnoticed by Sokka how the boy grimaced at the use of his title, though that didn’t stop him from moving forward and placing a hand on Zuko’s shoulder a little too tightly. “Y/N does not want to speak with you.”

“I know,” Came his reply. “Thank you for keeping her from... killing me. The other day. I intend to apologize-”

A small laugh escaped Sokka, “next time. I won’t stop her.” This was for multiple reasons, one of which being that Y/N was avoiding him, and the other being that he wished to respect her and her feeling about Zuko. “And you need to respect her wishes. One of those wishes being, avoiding you. Until she approaches you, leave her be.”

Zuko’s brows furrowed at this comment, “she’s my cousin. You can’t expect-”

“Leave. Her. Be.”

Zuko became silent, nodding slowly as he looked to Sokka curiously.

And now, to avoid some of his problems and solve some of them, Sokka ended up running away in a hot air balloon with the person he related to the most at the moment, and the person he threatened rather recently. Zuko. Both of them were being avoided by someone important in their lives, and they both had slightly crazy younger sisters. Though their conversations were certainly... odd.

“My first girlfriend turned into the moon.”

Zuko looked at him for a moment before saying, “that’s rough, buddy.” There was silence after this, a temporary lapse in conversation that Zuko seemed determined to fill. “So...” Zuko mumbled. “You and my cousin huh.”

It wasn’t a question, Sokka realized this, but he disregarded it as he responded, “what about us?” Playing dumb would hopefully get him to drop the subject.

Zuko raised his brows at Sokka, “us?”

Scolding himself, Sokka realized he’d unintentionally dug a deeper hole for himself when he said this as he tried to avoid Zuko’s gaze. “Not really.” Sokka replied, “she’s avoiding me too.”

Nodding, Zuko gave him a tight lipped smile, “what did you do?”

“I wish I knew.” Sokka could only make assumptions about why Y/N had begun to avoid him, but at the end of the day was confused over it.

He really needed to talk to her.

As the day of Sozin’s Comet drew closer, Sokka had started trying to talk to Y/N more and more, she’d keep basic conversation but whenever he tried to address... the kiss, Y/N would shut down the conversation. And now, it was the day of Sozin’s Comet, and they established that Zuko and Katara would take on Azula, Aang would take on Ozai, and the rest of them would go after the army that was heading for the Earth Kingdom.

It seemed that Sokka intended to try to speak with her once more as he approached her while she strapped a dagger to her thigh. “We need to talk.” He said, plopping down onto a rock beside her.

“About battle strategy?” She asked, looking to him, “I had some ideas.”

Play dumb, play dumb, play dumb.

Sokka’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “about the kiss, Y/N.” Y/N tried to hide her shock at his forwardness, he’d never been this blunt before, during his previous attempts to discuss this with her. Turning to him, she prepared to speak but he silenced her, “you’re going to listen this time.” Grimacing, he looked away, towards the horizon. “I don’t know what’s going to happen today. And if something goes wrong, I need you to know-”

“Nothing is going wrong.” Y/N stated firmly. “Nothing. So, we can have this conversation after.”

Sokka sat up from his place on the rock, moving in front of her, “there’s no way to guarantee that Y/N.”

Squeezing her eyes shot, Y/N took a deep breath, “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you guys.” She promised, “and I swear we can talk about this after.” She grabs onto his hands, holding them in hers as she looks away. Y/N knew why she was avoiding it. He was right, it was totally possible for one of them to die, and a relationship in the midst of a war was the worst possible idea. After would be better, or at least that’s what she’d told herself.

The pleading look in his eyes almost burns through her resolve as he asks, “will we?” It almost hurts that he doesn’t believe her, but Y/N can’t blame him.

“We need to go.” Her voice was almost a whisper as she releases his hands. Even if she wanted to continue discussing the subject, they needed to begin the battle soon.

Sokka frowned though, “if you don’t want this, just tell me and I’ll-” He sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. “I’ll stop bothering you.”

Y/n began to shake her head, “you are never a bother to me I just-” Sighing, she looked into his eyes, “I want this. I do, I’m just scared, and we’re in the middle of a war Sokka!” She exclaimed, the words spilling out of her mouth before she can stop them.

“You think I don’t know that?” Sokka cried out, exasperated. “Y/N I’m so scared that something is going to go wrong, and I’ll never get to tell you that I-”

“Don’t say it.” She interrupts, fear in her veins as she watches him.

So, he didn’t.

If she didn’t feel like she had something to come back to, maybe that would make it easier. Sacrifices would have to be made to reach victory, and Y/N wouldn’t hesitate to be the one to make them if it meant the others survived. They deserved to see the new world, the world of peace, prosperity, and freedom, the one that came after all this.

Y/N could feel the power flooding her as the comet drew closer, pure and raw power. Though this accompanied by her skill would likely help her in the upcoming battle, dozens of Firebenders with half her skill and the power of the comet was something she was definitely worried about. Overpowering them all was unlikely, and in the best case scenario, Y/N could slow them down. But she wasn’t a fool. In war, there were always casualties, and she was prepared to become one of many.

Then there were the thoughts in the back of her mind. Though nobody had discussed it, the throne could potentially go to her after all this, and that wasn’t really something Y/n was looking forward to debating. Perhaps it was selfish, but Y/N didn’t really care. Was it wrong of her to dream of escaping the shackles that bound her to the Fire Nation since birth, to leave behind the politics and the lies and the pain of it all?

Maybe.

Sokka knew Y/N had a lot going on in her mind right now. And he knew she was scared of what was to come, and no matter how much it hurt him, he respected her wishes to wait until this battle was over to discuss whatever it was between them. He knew where he stood. But now that Suki had left them, he found himself beginning to regret it. On the top of the Air Balloon, Toph was practically blind, and Sokka could do little in terms of long distance, aside from his boomerang. Which left Y/N to do her best to defend them from the Firebenders that had begun to swarm them.

“Go!” She cried out, knocking one of the Firebenders off the balloon. “Take out the rest of the fleet.” Y/N dodged the oncoming flames, intercepting them with her own to prevent the others from getting burned.

But Sokka wasn’t going to let anyone die today. “You still owe me a conversation,” came his response, looking down at the bridges on the Air Balloon. “Jump!” Sokka cried out as another ball of fire rushed towards them, he took Toph by the hand and hoped that Y/N followed.

Thankfully, she did, he took notice of her as he fell towards the bridges extending from the giant hot air balloon. They were all screaming as they fell, and Y/N grunted in pain as she hit Sokka, tumbling over him and off the edge, yelping as her hands grasped the bridge, with little leverage. Toph similarly went over the side, her screams filling Sokka ears as Y/N released one of her hands from the bridge and caught Toph’s wrist.

Panic flooded Sokka as he scrambled to the edge of the bridge, Y/N’s hand slipping, “Sokka! Hurry up-” Another scream rips out of her as she loses her grip on the edge.

Nearly falling as he grabbed her hand, his chest heaved. “It’s gonna be okay.” He promised, looking into Y/N’s panicked eyes. “It’s gonna be fine Toph!” He cried out to her.

“Yeah, right!” She called out into the wind, the fear evident in her voice despite the sarcastic nature of the comment. “Y/N I don’t wanna die.”

Y/N almost can’t hear her, too focused on maintaining her grip on both Sokka and Toph’s hands. She exhales slowly, eyes falling on the soldiers that are beginning to make their way down to them as she replied, “you’re gonna be fine, I promise. I’m gonna get you to Sokka, okay?”

Sokka was internally panicking, he wouldn’t be able to fight back against the incoming soldiers if both his hands were occupied, but his grip was faltering and he couldn’t pull them both up. Grimacing as he looked down at the two, he nodded in agreement to Y/N signaling that he was ready. It made sense in his mind, she would be able to use her free hand to Firebend, which was far more useful than anything he could provide at the moment.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N looks to Toph, “Toph, I need you to climb up my body, and grab Sokka’s free hand, okay?”

Toph’s death grip on her hand seems to grow stronger, tears brimming her eyes, “I- I don’t think I can.”

Y/N shakes her head at these words, “yes, yes you can. Bring your legs up to grab my lower body, and then make your way up, okay? Like a tree.”

Toph shook her head rapidly, “I’ve never climbed a tree!”

Sokka couldn’t help but grow impatient as he exclaimed, “there are soldiers coming, Toph please!” His hand was growing sweaty as he used his free hand to throw his sword at one of the oncoming soldiers, effectively knocking him down.

Y/N felt her arm swing slightly, and watched as Toph blindly extended her legs, finally managing to wrap them around her legs. She released Y/N’s hand and wrapped both arms around her lower body, slowly inching upwards until her legs were around Y/N’s waist and her arms were on her shoulders. “Good job, now reach up, as far as you can, and Sokka’s gonna grab your hand.” Y/n instructed using her free hand to pat the hand that Toph had wrapped around her.

Y/N could feel the young girl’s tears fall onto her shirt as she extended her hand upwards, Sokka’s freehand moving as far down as possible. The strain on Y/N’s body slowly becoming too much as tears leaked out of her eyes.

Maybe it would be better to just... let go.

She quickly shook off those thoughts, Toph, Toph, Toph, she couldn’t do anything brash until Toph was safe. Y/N watched as Sokka’s hand narrowly missed Toph’s. “Sokka, please.” Y/N whispered, looking to him with pleading eyes.

Maybe it was the desperation he heard in her voice that moment, or maybe it was pure luck, put his fingers grazed Toph’s and he latched on, extending his arm as far as possible and gripping her hand. “Now let go of me, and Sokka’s gonna pull you up, okay?” Y/N explained, looking to Sokka, his eyes meeting hers. Y/N quickly realized he couldn’t lift either of them up. Just like her, this was straining his muscles, and Sokka was struggling to keep both of them up.

“Sokka.” She said, demanding his attention, his eyes met hers, filled with fear as Toph relieved Y/N’s body of her weight and evened out the distribution on Sokka’s body. “You can’t fight back with both your hands taken.” More tears were streaming down her face as she spoke, “a-and... you can’t pull us both up.” Sokka was crying too now, shaking his head rapidly as Y/N simply pointed out the facts.

Toph’s grip on his hand tightened, “we’re all going to die.” There was resignation in her voice, and it hurt Y/N to hear it.

“We’ll figure it out. We are all going to be okay.” He stated firmly, a shaky breath leaving him as he made an attempt to pull them both upwards, a failed attempt.

Squeezing her eyes shut momentarily, Y/N allowed herself to imagine it, a life with Sokka and the rest of her friends. A life where they were all happy. Where everyone made it out of this war alive, and they helped bring balance to the world.

To give them that world, they had to end this war. And what was war without death?

Opening her eyes, she looked to Sokka, and he was panicked, noticing that far more soldiers had surrounded them and were preparing to mercilessly throw them off the balloon. “Sokka.” She repeated, and he looked to her with a tear streaked face.

“I love you.”

Everything seemed to slow as she spoke this words, and Y/N didn’t see the horror on his face for long as the grip of his hand faltered when she released it, he was screaming, crying, begging for her to stop. Toph clearly didn’t understand what was going on as she began to call out Y/N’s name in a panic.

And then she was falling.

It appeared there would be no after.

It felt peaceful, she decided. Falling. The stress on her body had dissipated and she caught one final glimpse of Sokka’s mortified face before going through the clouds. The comet was visible from where she was, the horizon, it was a beautiful way to die. But staring at the comet she realized she wanted to know what would come after, she realized that Toph was practically helpless and all Sokka had was a boomerang against dozens of Firebenders.

They would die. So, what was the point of her sacrifice? What was the point of her dying?

No, she wouldn’t be dying today.

Inhaling deeply, Y/N felt the power course through her veins, and she reminded herself that she was Y/N L/N, a force to be reckoned with. Nobody would forget that as fire tore through the soles of her shoes, and extended from her hands, propelling her upwards.

She was the daughter of the famed Dragon of the West. And she would take on his mantle, she decided, as she flew upwards and through the clouds.

She could see Sokka had managed to bring Toph upwards and onto the platform alongside him, and they were surrounded by Firebenders. It was clear that they’d seen her when their mouthes gaped open, and a few of the soldiers began to retreat, much to the chagrin of their commanding officer. Y/N found herself ceasing her Firebending and falling towards the platform, she landed in a roll and rose on one knee before opening her mouth and allowing fire to pour outwards.

The Firebenders fell off the bridges beside them one by one, and those who didn’t retreated back inside along with the others at the sight of the Air Balloon that Suki had evidently comandeered.

Closing her mouth, Y/N’s chest heaved, and she felt Toph tackle her from behind, “you’re alive!” She exclaimed, punching Y/N’s arm roughly, “idiot.” She dug her head into Y/N’s shirt.

“Yeah, I am an idiot.” Y/N replied breathlessly, holding the girl tightly.

When Toph finally released her, she gave her a smug look, “I’ll give you and him a minute.” Though this was partially an excuse to head back inside and into the safety of the balloon, maybe even attack some of the remaining Firebenders, it was also because Toph could read the room.

And there stood Sokka, mouth gaping open, tears streaming down his smiling face as he looked at her, before lunging towards her similar to how Toph had. Except his hands came to her cheeks as he brought their lips together, effectively knocking the two onto the ground of the platform, be pulled apart from her with a smile on his face, “I love you too.”

Yeah, after was looking pretty good right about now.

A/N: i hope you guys liked this SUPER LONG THING WOW, that was an accident. i was super close to like breaking everyones hearts and killing Y/N but then i felt bad so be grateful i was nice ksaljdlahfkj

anyways take care of yourselves!

taglists:

atla: @bubblebars @jada-cleo @art-flirt @the-deli-meat

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka atla #atla sokka #atla sokka x reader #sokka atla x reader #atla sokka x you #atla #avatar the last airbender #lok #legend of korra #sokka is a bottom change my mind #im sorry ignore this #i hope no one reads tags #anyways have a nice day #drink water

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miss-choco-chips · 3 years

Text

Bird Watchers

It was something like an open secret in Gotham, that even though all it’s heroes were open to help no matter the situation, each one of them had a special affinity to certain matters.

For example, children from all districts knew to yell for Nightwing if they found themselves lost and scared. Small business owners often painted little Oracle symbols on their doorsteps, to warn away possible thieves with the knowledge that Gotham’s cryptic hacker had their eye on them. Working girls would send a quick prayer to the Red Hood before seeing their seediest clients; and as such, knew who to call for if things took a turn for the worst.

And Red Robin… well. His was a very specific bunch.

---.---

Warnings: depression, suicide attempts, overdose comic-typical violence (discussed, not explicit). Hurt-comfort all the way, baby. There’s also one scene, with the redhead, that I copied from the comics.

(it’s almost 2 am, I wrote half of this in one go, don’t @ me for mistakes. I’ll edit tomorrow. Maybe.)

---.---

The first time he stopped a suicide, he had just turned thirteen. The suit still felt wrong, too loose in all the places where Jason’s bigger presence would have been a better fit. Too small, too brainy, not brash enough, not good enough.

He would never think himself worthy, but he was all Batman had. There were no other candidates, not ones he could have thrown the job at without risking Bruce’s identity, so he’d have to make do.

But even so, he had been gaining a little confidence over the past few months. His training with Shiva, and Dick’s and Bruce’s focus on making him as ready for the streets as humanly possible, had ensured he never encountered a situation where he couldn’t handle himself, or get back up in time to avoid any casualties.

Except for right now.

“Hey! Don’t do it, please!”

Yeah, maybe yelling at the man precariously balanced on the edge of a how many feet tall building wasn’t his wisest moment. He’d berate himself later. Now was freak out time.

Said man stumbled for a second before regaining his footing and turning to look at Tim. He couldn’t be more than forty, with a bit of an overgrown beard and tired eyes. He had something clutched in one hand, tanned and calloused from work, the other over his chest, probably due to the scare of having a bat suddenly appearing behind him.

“R-Robin…”, he gasped, shook out of whatever reverie he was going through for a second. “W-what… I mean, why are you…?”

‘Okay, Tim, breath. Can’t call B, he’ll notice, get startled and jump. Can I catch him if he does? My grappling hook is made to withstand more than my weight, but if I can’t handle the strain of swinging us both to safety…’

He couldn't risk it.

“Good evening, Mr…?”

Surprise and good manners made the man automatically answer, “Ed. Ed Harrinson.”

Encouraged, Tim took a tiny teeny step forward. Ed’s entire body shock and he leaned backwards. Tim froze, fear keeping his breathing and heartbeat hostages for the time being, stopping the first and kick starting the second.

“Mr Harrinson, I’d like to ask you to step away from the edge? I’ll call an ambulance for you, and…”

“No!”, the man screamed, suddenly over his surprise, a look of determination trying to masquerade his obvious exhaustion. “If you call an’one, I’ll jump.”

Tim wisely kept the ‘you were gonna do it anyway’ to himself. He nodded slowly, hands emerging from the confines of his cape to show Mr Harrinson the lack of a communication device.

“I won’t, then, but may I come closer? Please?”

It was on the last word, high pitched and wavering, that the man cracked. With wary demeanor, he waved him over, pointing to a patch of rooftop a little far but close enough for Tim to feel comfortable- or as comfortable as he’d get, in these circumstances.

As he approached, he could feel the man analyzing him. The little gasp when he stood by his side didn’t go unnoticed.

“You are… smaller than I imag’ned. Too small for a bat. My boy’s taller than you” he mused, likely to himself, but Tim grasped onto that bit of information and clutched at it with both hands, desperately.

“I’m short compared to my peers, so maybe I’m the same age as your son. How old is he?”, he asked, in his most conversational tone. Fear still had a grasp over both his lungs and heart.

Something in the man’s face shifted.

“He… he just turned fifteen.” Older than Tim, then. Ed continued, “He’s… ”, in a second, the sadness was replaced by pride, “he’s grown up p’tty well, if I say so m’self. A fine young man, that kid. He’ll go places.”

For a beat, Tim tried to imagine his own dad here. As much as he’d hate to see Jack in Mr Harrinson’s place, he couldn't help but wonder if he’d be talking about him the same way Ed spoke about his son.

He… didn’t think so. If on the verge of death, thoughts about his son would probably be the farthest from his dad’s mind.

“You sound like you love him very much. He’s a lucky guy” he said sincerely, a tendril of hopefulness still twisted around his stomach. His hands weren’t shaking any longer, finding solace in the fact that the man in front of him didn’t look like he was about to jump right that second.

Mr Harrinson’s face fell.

“Got served an’ unlucky hand, with an old man like me”, his eyes went back to the abyss, to the empty, poor litten streets below them. “Go ‘way, kid. Leave m’ be. Notta business what I do. Gotta do this f’r my kid.”

Fear came back, full force.

“I- Sorry, but I can’t help but think about your son”, he blurted out, the only bit of information he had about the man was his only tendril of hope. “Someone who loves his child as much as you seem to must be a good father. A father that… would be missed dearly, if lost so young.”

Mr Harrinson looked even more devastated. Tim was doing this all wrong, wasn’t he?

“There’s no other way t’ keep’im safe!'' he yelled, and for a minute Tim thought he had decided to jump then and there. Instead, he dropped to his knees, hands to his head, paper still clutched in one fist. “They’ll get to him if I don’t! Once I’m dead, they’ll just leave’im alone!”

Tim crouched next to him, tentative.

“Who is ‘they’, sir? Maybe I could help…”

Ed was already shaking his head.

“Nay, they said not to go to the bats. Kill my boy, they will, if I do. Seen them offing others for less, so I believe them.”

“Ah, but I’m too short to be a bat, am I not?” he smiled, wobbly at best but sincere. “Besides, who’s gonna tell them you spoke to me? I”, he gestured to his mask, “know how to keep a secret.”

He considered for a beat, before tired shoulders fell, defeated. He offered the slip of paper towards him, unseeing eyes on the street below.

Robin read the note carefully, noting the sloppy penmanship and cheap paper as well as the message itself.

“Mr Harrinson…”

“I know”, he whispered, “I know working for the Black Mask wasn’t my best idea. But m’boy needed to eat, and the landlord was gettin’ impatient. And now, for whatever reason, boss wants me dead. And if I make ‘im dirty his own hands, he’ll dirty ‘em twice and send me with my son for company to the other side. Felix is too young, and he’s good. Can’t let ‘im pay f’ his old man m’stakes, ya hear me?”

Tim thought his words over carefully.

“Mr Harrinson… I don’t think this comes from Black Mask himself”, for one, Blackie wasn’t one to avoid blood on his gloves, nor to send such a shitty note. The man lived for the drama, like most A-listers did, and he’d never forgo the aesthetic of an expensive peachment and beautifully worded threat. Also, if he wanted this man gone, he would have put a bullet in his head the second he clocked in; and if it were revenge he was after, he wouldn't have gotten a warning note but his son’s head sent to him instead.

He folded the paper and put it into one of his multiple pockets, free hand going to the man’s shoulder.

“I know Black Mask’s M.O, mister, and this is not it”, no need to spook him further by describing what it was, though. “Probably just a colleague who wanted your position, or has a grudge for whatever reason. And that, I can help you with. If you work with me on this one, we can both make sure Felix has his Dad making breakfast for him tomorrow morning, and all the days after that. After all”, he smiled, no longer uncertain now that he had firm ground to work with, “your son is going places, and he’ll have to be well fed to reach them, right?”

Mr Harrinson’s smile must have had magical properties, Tim thought. There was no other explanation for the way it returned his breath back to his body.

---.----

The next time he saw a jumper, a few months later, he was slightly more ready for it. Bruce had congratulated him on his work with Mr Harrinson, and the subsequent raid they could make on one of Black Mask’s warehouses thanks to the man’s information, but Tim hadn’t been satisfied until he had read every single mission report on the batcomputer about attempted suicides. And succeed ones, too. Need to know what went well and what didn’t, after all.

So when he saw the fifty-something woman crying on top of a tower in City Hall District, he didn’t almost-crash in his attempt to get there in time. He landed softly, making just enough noise to let her know she wasn’t alone, but careful to not startle her.

“It’s a little cold up here, Lady. If you’d like, I can walk you home?”, he tries for cheeky, despite the cold fear nesting in his stomach like a grumpy, spiteful bird.

The woman, sitting by the edge, turned her head to look at him. The movement called attention to her long, strawberry blonde hair, neatly braided, and her pretty diamond earrings. The face under her perfect make up was gaunt and pale, tear tracks cleaning paths of skin to his trained eye.

Despite him interrupting what probably were very private thoughts, she smiled at his approach, kind and polite. It didn’t reach her eyes, but the intent to put him at ease was generous enough.

“I may be a lady, but any adult worth their salt would insist on walking the young child home, instead of the opposite. Besides”, she patted the rooftop under her,” I live here, so it’s not a long walk at all.”

Tim stepped closer, carefully.

“May I sit?”

“I could use the company for a bit”, she accepted, head turning back to the city below.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, before Tim’s soft voice broke it again.

“Is there anything I can do to help convince you not to do it? Please?”

The lady smiled. “You are a very sweet boy.”

“That’s… not an answer. Can I at least know why?”

“Won’t it torment you, in the future, if we speak now?”, she asked a question of her own, turning to face him again. Despite her words, there was nothing but kindness in those deep green eyes. “If you don’t know me, I’m just another one who jumped. If we talk, I’m afraid I might stay with you long after I’m gone. You are too young for that kind of weight.”

Tim swallowed.

“That’s easily solved, Miss;”, Dick’s rule of thumb; if unsure, always call a lady Miss before Mrs “don’t do it.”

She spared him a long, meaningful look, and he slumped over.

“Not my best, I know, but I’m kinda freaking out now?” She wasn’t like Mr Harrinson, no motive he could see, no strand to pull and unravel her pain. “Please, just… why?”

She patted one of the hands gripping his own knee. His other hand rushed over hers, sandwiching her cold, slim fingers between his gloved palms.

“There’s nothing left for me. I have a nice job, live in a pretty side of town, have friends, and still… it feels so empty. So… Meaningless. Why even bother?”

Tim chewed on her words silently. He was way out of his depth. A tangible, physical problem? He could solve those, no biggie.

Depression, though… that was a different giant to tackle. Was he even prepared enough to?

A strong gust of wind made the lady with braided hair shiver. Without thought, Tim unclasped his cape and draped it over her slim shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, head tilted like a curious woodland animal. Tim felt strongly protective of her, of this kind, sweet lady, who said she had it all, except the one thing that mattered to her.

“I’m used to it”, he shrugged. “This suit is very warm, but cold air often trickles down from the neckline and… well. Gigs of the job and all that.”

The lady tutted, frowning for the first time since Tim arrived.

“That won’t do, young man. You need a scarf. The nights will only get colder from now on.”

He shrugged again.

“I just… don’t have the time to buy one. And I had one, but… There’s these kids who often hang out by the park, and they were so cold, I just couldn't swing by and ignore them. So I gave them my scarf to share between them. I’m just kinda bummed that I don’t have more to make sure they all stay warm.”

The braided haired lady hummed for a second.

“Well… I knit”, she started, carefully. “I don’t have children or grandchildren to give my final products to, so they’ll go to waste after I’m gone. If you’d take them out of my hands, you’ll do me a favor.”

Tim wanted to say no, unwilling to make this any easier for her, but the chance of getting her away from the edge was enough to quell his voice.

She went and came back within minutes, a big cardboard box balanced over her shaky arms. He rose to help her, meeting the woman halfway through the roof, a good distance away from the abyss.

“This red one would look good with your suit… oh, and the green one, to keep with the theme! Or maybe the yellow one… Shame pink would be such a bad fit for your colors, because that wool is the best I worked with…”

Tim’s hand carefully took said carf out and looked it over. There were about six others in the box.

“I could take this to those kids I mentioned before… It’d still not be enough for all, but more to share between them means less cold.”

She hummed again, looking at the unfinished projects on the bottom of the box.

“If… If you give me a few days…” she muttered. “I mean, I’m in no rush”, a hand vaguely gestured towards the rooftop’s edge. “I could spare a few days finishing those, and you could take them to these kids you spoke about… and maybe, I can help make a few children less cold with this silly hobby of mine.”

Elated beyond words, Tim nodded vigorously, waxing poetry about her work and about just how excited little Ellie would be with this soft, pretty pink scarf.

His patrol route could use a few detours, after all, if that meant keeping Braided Hair Lady away from her roof.

---.----

He was just returning from a late supply run when he bumped into The Cats.

It was in an alleyway, a block off from Mrs Eloise Denvarow (formerly known as Braided Hair Lady). The older woman had caved after three months knowing each other, of Tim passing by her apartment once every other night to pick up her baked goods or knitted masterpieces, to distribute between street kids and working girls, and told him her name. It was said in passing (“Stop with that ‘Lady’ thing, honey. It’s Eloise”), as if lacking importance, when in reality it meant the world to him. Sure, he’d already known, having run a background check on her the minute he came back to the cave after stopping her from jumping, but there was that implicit vow between them, that she wouldn't tell him her name and jump, wouldn’t make him carry its weight on his shoulders forever, so it was… it was a promise, on her end, a reassurance, and Tim wasn’t even embarrassed that he cried in her arms like a baby for ten minutes.

So here he was, a month after that, still riding that high, when the desperate call from below caught his attention.

There were two teens on the dirty ground, nested among cracked bottles and old newspapers. The girl was lying in the boy’s arms, with him screaming for help.

“Robin! Thank fuck!”, he almost sobs, arms visibly tightening around the girl. Tim wants to ask how he knew to call for him, and if the proximity to Mrs Denvarow’s place was luck or not.

But it wasn’t the time to ask.

The girl was pale, which only highlighted the bruises on her face. Someone with a big fist punched her. It doesn't seem likely, considering just how distraught the other kid is, but he checks his hands just in case; fortunately, too small for that kind of damage.

She’s also breathing erratically and, when he puts a gloved hand to her neck, he realizes just how crazy her pulse is.

Fear Toxin? Except Scarecrow is still in Arkham as far as he knows, and even if he had gotten away recently, he needs time to develop his precious chemicals. Joker’s Venom and Mad’s Hatter drugs don’t have quite this results, and Ivy doesn’t usually attack street girls just for kicks; they are also too far from her usual turf for her to be a viable suspect.

So, that leaves very few choices.

“Overdose?”, he ventures a guess, hand already fumbling through the pockets on his belt.

The other boy sobs harder, nodding while looking down at the girl in his arms. Tim gently takes the girl from him to position her straighter, to help her down the vial he finally found in his belt. It was supposed to help flush out any chemical in a few minutes, tops; they usually used it when a new type of Crazy Criminal Drug made its way to the streets and they didn’t have the time to properly prepare an antidote. It was strong, and vicious in its path to devoid the body of any and all external agents, which was why it wasn’t a preferred method; who’s to say the civilian in need of a flush isn’t in some important medicine? The Big Flush, as Dick calls it, lacked any kind of finesse or discrimination.

But it was their best shot right now, so there goes nothing.

There’s silence while they watch the girl’s progress. He doesn’t bother asking if he called for an ambulance; they are obviously minors, probably homeless, and even if the Wayne Foundation takes care of children’s hospital fees, they’d avoid it to keep themselves out of the foster system.

But then, the kid kept talking.

“I… I found her near Grant Park. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I dragged her here. She/” and then he breaks again, hands grasping one of hers, as if letting go meant he was giving up on her and he couldn't bear it.

“Grant Park is only five blocks away,” Tim thinks out loud, mind already a mile away “and Moench’s Row illicit night clinic is about the same distance from there as this place. Why did you bring her here?”

“She… Alley… Oh, her name’s Allison, by the way. And I’m Thomas. Tom.” Introductions, miraculously, seem to do the trick here and calm him down. “Nice to meetcha.”

Tim’s not deterred by his toothy grin, but he has to admit he’s kinda cute. Like, stray cat cute.

Huh. Alley, Tom, cat… Yeah, that checks.

“What happened with Allison?” he presses softly, one arm still keeping Alley up and against his chest, the other hand on her pulse point, taking note of the way the heartbeat seems to be stabilizing. The puking fest was gonna start soon.

“She… It was on purpose.” Tom confesses, eyes going clouded for a while. “She tries to not be home, yknow? I met her in kindergarten, and even then she’d try to hide behind the teacher’s desk in hopes they’d forget about her and close the building with her inside. Anyway, we pretty much live on the streets these days, and Alley… she’s very depressed. I convinced her to see someone a while ago, even stol/ I mean, earned the money for it myself”, he’s quick to correct, eyes glancing up to see if he was smooth enough to cover it; which he wasn’t, but Tim was in favor of letting that small one go, “and they gave her a prescription for antidepressants. She’s been kicking it down the road, but she’s gotten a lot worse and I wouldn't lay off her case about it, so she sneaked back home to get some money from her folks to pay for it.”

By the way the kid looks at her bruised face with unmeasurable guilt, Tim knows she didn’t go unnoticed.

“And… I don’t know. We were supposed to meet up by the Commerce Street Highway, but she was late, so I walked around for a bit and… I saw her there, on a bench. She was/ she was still conscious then, and she told me… she said ‘these aren’t what the doc gave me, but they took the pain away all the same’.” Again, Tom chokes on his own emotions. If he had any free hands, he’d try to put one on his shoulder for comfort. “I don’t even know what she took, or where did she get it from!”

Tim has heard whispers of loan sharks and drug dealres camping toghter by the Fashion Distric, just north of Grant Park, so he can make an informed guess as to how that happened. Also, he now knows what he’ll do the rest of the night, once these kids are safe.

When Tom has gotten a grasp of himself, he pushes again.

“So, why did you bring her here?”

He shrugs, a bit abashed.

“Well… I mean, everyone knows about how Mrs Denvarow is the one giving clothes and food away, and that you help her distribute it. Well, not everyone, but… you know, the street kids. We flagged her building with a yellow skull and everything.”

A yellow skull grafitti, Tim’s mind translates, is the street equivalent of a ‘don’t fuck with this place’ sing. A sort of protective sigil. He wonders how he missed it.

“And… This is kind of your thing, right? So I figured you’d be better prepared to deal with it than some overworked clinic that might even not have enough free equipment to help us. Good think I did, too” he gestures at his friend, whose face is now looking flushed; a sign both of growing health, and of the upcoming puke. Tim’s quick to turn her so her back is to his chest, head tilted down just in case.

As if rehearsed, Alley chose that exact second to empty the contents of her now flushed stomach. Tim would need a sample of that, to catch the responsible dealer.

Tom held her hair away from her face while Tim kept her steady, and she blinked bearily at them after it was done, still not completely lucid but a world away from the girl she was ten minutes ago.

“She’ll still need a hospital.'' Tim informs Tom sternly. The boy had taken his friend in his arms again, softly rubbing her back to help with the uncomfortable ache leftover after puking your guts out. “The Moench’s Row clinic should be able to help with any side effect, but she’s safe for now.”

He nods, thanks Tim again and again and politely refuses his help to take her to the clinic. They part ways, both parties probably thinking this would be the last time they saw each other.

Still, their situation sticks with Tim during the rest of his patrol, and he decides to stop by the clinic, just to check on them. His knuckles still ache from the absolute beating he delivered to the ones who gave Alley the money and sold her the drugs, so he’s in better spirits and hopes to spread it to the kids.

Alley is awake when he visits, and her shy, little smile is enough for the rage inside of Tim to die down. The bad guys dealt with, the civilians safe, everything in its proper place.

He sleeps a bit better that night.

---.----

He almost doesn’t see him.

Actually, he probably wouldn't have, deeply lost into his own head, had the guy been anything other than a redhead. That exact shade of orangy-brown auburn, that he would have to pick up from his workbench at Titan’s tower after Bart had decided to ‘keep him company’ during his all-nighters.

It was ironic, how now he would give anything in the world to have those same strands of hair fucking up his experiments, if only for the impish, ‘please-don’t-kill-me-I’m-an-angel’ smile he would receive in exchange.

“Hey”, he greets, landing softly at the man’s right, sitting a few feet away from him, too tired to even stand up on common ground. “What’s happening?”

He shouldn’t be doing this. He really, really shouldn’t. His own mental health was less than stellar, and even thinking about it made him feel worse. He didn’t deserve to feel bad, not when civilians were in the hospital after his latest fuck up, Cass was missing, Cassie barely hanging in there, the family a mess with Damian’s lovely introduction, and… well. Every other person he knew…

Point being, there must be someone else, in a better inner place, that could speak to this guy. But since no one seemed to be patrolling this route, Tim could only hope to stall him long enough for a more capable vigilante to show up.

The guy looks startled, then angry. He has green eyes, he notices, under the glasses. Not sure why that sticks to him.

“What are you doing here? You’re not going to try to stop me, are you? You’re not going to swing down and catch me in mid air or something, are you?”

He seems defensive, but Tim notices a bit of hesitancy. He has worked with less.

(He wishes he had more energy to do more with what little he has)

“No. If I did, what’s to stop you from doing it again later, or tomorrow? I can’t be with you every second. If you want to do this, you are going to, no matter how much I don’t want you to. And I don’t want you to, just so we are clear.”

The guy still looks suspicious, but he hasn’t taken that last step forward, so… a win?

“I just needed to sit down for a minute. ‘been thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up lately, and…”

Auburn-hair deflates a little, turning away from Tim to examine the night sky. “Well, that makes two of us.”

The bat signal lights up the night. His newfound companion looks at it, then him. “Do you need to get that?”

“Nah. Batman will, and if he needs help he’ll call me.” Tim shrugs. He needs a coffee-power-up. He needs to sleep. He needs for his loved ones to not be dead.

He needs to see if there’s anything he can do for this guy.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re doing this? So someone can go to your family and friends to let them know?”

After all, if it was him who did it (and… wasn’t that food for thought?), he’d like Bruce and Dick to know why. To not… to not blame themselves.

Redhead looks annoyed again. Uh. A short fuse, this one.

“Don’t try any psychology, or try to make me feel guilty about hurting anyone… this isn't about anyone but me.”

He shouldn’t say it, but… “That’s pretty naive, but whatever. Tell me anyway.” He smirks a bit, then “Unless you’re in a hurry or something.”

He hears the guy (he really should ask his name) as he tells his story. A cold, clinical part of his mind recognizes the symptoms described almost unconsciously by the guy as depression. He would know, after all. The other part of him, the part that made him Robin, that made him human, discarded the label; there was much more to this guy than his illness, and he would treat him like it.

“So here I am,” he finishes, now sitting side by side with Tim, both their legs hanging above the bustling city. “Now’s when you tell me how stupid this is. That other people have much bigger problems, there’s hunger and war, and I’m weak because my problems are nothing next to stuff like that.”

Tim thinks of a father, desperately thinking his death would save his son’s life, when in fact it would have only made it worse. He thinks of a woman, so full of love and warmth, looking into the abyss and feeling empty inside. He thinks of a couple of kids, one hanging to life with nails and teeth, the other hanging to her just as fiercely.

He thinks about himself. About looking at a future version of himself, hating what he sees, and deciding to drown the bud before it can even flower. He thinks of sickly green water, of cloning equipment in a laboratory, of a phone falling to the ground after delivering him with more bad news.

He’s still in a bad place, still probably not the most capable person to be doing this, but a part of him is sure this is the right answer. The only answer.

“No. Your problems are worse than anyone else’s, because they are yours. I’ve... felt bad like you have, and some pretty bad things have happened to me.”

Red hair looks as tired as Tim feels, so it’s a surprise that he has enough energy to glance at him worriedly, hand stretching a bit in his direction in a half-formed attempt to comfort.

“You guys make it look so easy, swinging around, having fun… Things get bad for you, too?”

Tim looks down, and smiles. It’s a sad, bitter thing. He thinks about parents lost before ever connecting to them, about a girlfriend going away, a sister lost to the madness of their lives, about two best friends gone, one even dying in his arms.

He gives no details. Doesn’t talk about it all, just shares a little bit of himself. It’s only fair, after hearing about this guy’s demons. Misery loves company, doesn’t it?

“So what do you do? How do you deal with it?” the guy asks when he’s done, looking at Tim by the corner of his not-very-dry eyes.

Tim forces himself to remember. “One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes, Superman, Batman… everyone. I remember that I’m not alone, that things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to.”

Most of those were dead, but Tim is hit with the epiphany that not all of them are. He still has people. He still…

“And you’ve got people like that? That you can talk to?” asks the guy, tone both worried and hopeful. Tim stands up, does his best to look calm.

“Yeah. Your folks, and old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before… someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to your problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great… or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works. Want to come down from there and give it a try?”

The guy gets back to his feet, as Tim watches from behind. Having been in this situation before, the fear grabbing a hold of him isn’t new, but it's different. He thinks he's too worn down. It takes the edge off of any emotion.

Except hope. Hope still hurts like a sharp knife when it’s snatched away. He prays it won’t be, right now.

Green eyes (Jason- that’s who they reminded him of) look down, deep in thought. Then he turns, smiles at Tim. There’s hope in him too.

“Yeah, why not?”

They get down together. He gives him a few numbers and they have breakfast together. The guy promises to call his English teacher, at least. Tim promises himself to call his brother.

At least, he still has Dick.

---.----

He’s been putting off doing his rounds since he came back, he knows. But…

It changed him, a bit. Going around the world, dealing with his grief while staying on his toes, ready to break down one second and having to field off attacks from all sides the next, with the Demon’s honeyed whispers echoing in his ear and mind.

He’ll never tell anyone, just how tempting it had been. How much he had wanted to reach for that offered hand. To lay his head on someone’s shoulder and let the responsibility bleed from his.

Tim will never tell anyone, but he’ll always know. And it’ll always make him hate himself a little bit more.

So, he’s different now. And he’s scared- that the people he gave hope to, that he talked with, that he could never stop thinking about, even halfway across the world- that they won’t like this new, worn down him.

That Mr Harrinson the Good Father, Braided Hair Lady and her sweaters, the inseparable Stray Cats, the girl with the bright yellow cardigan, the kid with the scarred wrists, the woman with beautiful star-like freckles that she’ll hopefully pass on to her baby, the gentle giant man with calloused hands, the petite but fierce young teen with defiant eyes and dead name, the soft spoken girl with the loudest laugh, auburn-haired boy and his hopeful and sympathetic green eyes… and so, so many more. They all knew him, maybe not at his best, but certainly better than now. The boy that kept them from jumping had been a bright, magical Robin. The teen that came back to their city was dark, weary Red Robin. It felt kinda like he had cheated them, returning this broken version of himself to their doorsteps.

But he had to go check on all of them. Even if Cass (and it was such a relief, that even after he lost everything else, the return of his sister could at least be a speck of light in the mist of misery surrounding him) had promised to do so, there were so many of them… and she couldn't possibly remember everyone, all the time. And if anyone had fallen through the gaps… if anyone had stood on a rooftop, waiting for their Robin to save them, only to think ‘nobody cares’ as he didn’t show up…

Tim gets sick only thinking about it. If it did happen, then he needs to know. He has to carry their names with him, that’s the least he can do for failing them.

So he’ll go check on them… anytime now. Soon. The moment he gathers enough energy to climb back to his feet and get his grapple hook out.

...The city looks full of life, beneath him. Like it feels the return of its Knight. The end of the internal quarrel among it’s vigilantes, that almost tore it all apart. The relief in Nightwing, the hesitant peace in Red Hood, the mellowing of Robin.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the worst ways)

Maybe it also feels Red Robin’s emptiness. Maybe that’s why it's so lively down there, like the ground is calling to him, just as it did when Ra’s broke the window with his body.

He thinks... he won’t have to check on anyone, if he jumps. And that way, there will be no name to carry with him to his grave.

“Robin!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t do it, please!”

He startles. Hadn’t even noticed when he got to his feet, nor that one of them was hanging over the abyss. The fact that he wasn’t alone on that rooftop any longer hadn’t even breached his usually perfect spatial awareness.

They didn’t call for him, but the voices sounded distraught, they were close, and he was a former Robin, so he turned around, tired, but with obedience and service too ingrained in him to consider denying help to whoever it was.

It turned out, he wouldn't need to go make his rounds any longer. His rounds had come to him.

There were… too many people on this roof. It was way too crowded.

“Robin!”

It was one voice now, not a mixture of them, so he could identify the one yelling his former alias. Allison broke from the mob of people (and there were more still, filling in from the open rooftop door, like a never-ending stream…) to run to him, looking like she might have just jumped into his arms, if not for Tom clutching her hoodie to stop her a few feet from him. Good move, considering he was still balancing precariously on the edge.

“Alleycat?” he whispered, a little blown. She looked so different (magenta looked amazing on the tips of her hair, and she totally pulled off that lip piercing), but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’d been so relieved, when she first opened them after that dangerous overdose.

“We were so fucking worried, dude”, came from Tomcat just behind her, still gripping her hoodie (still keeping her safe; some things never change).

“I…”

“Where were you?” Maddie, not longer yellow but still wearing a cute cardigan, stepped up too.

“I’m… I’m not Robin”, he blurts out. They… knew it was him? It… like, obviously there was a new Robin, Damian was (still, but probably not for much longer) smaller than him, but to immediately know that he was…

“Yeah, no shit. I’d know that long hair and noodle limbs of yours anywhere, kid. Known you too long to be fooled. And the new kid’s really trigger happy with that lon’nife of his... You’re still the Robin I prefer, and fuck if I understand the name passing you heroes do” Mr Harrinson spoke from the back of the crowd, one hand clutching his kid’s shoulder, the other arm around…

“Braided Hair Lady?”

Eloise smiles at him, soft and warm as ever, a little shy when his eyes go to the arm hugging her close and back to her. He recognizes some of her handmade scarfs around the necks of plenty of people on the roof.

“I… wasn’t aware you all knew each other.”

A petite young teen steps forward, walking until they were shoulder-to-shoulder with the Strays.

“Most of us met through the app, and then introduced the others. There’s more, of course, but not everyone could meet here. Samantha’s baby was born just two months ago, so she chose to stay home, but we promised her pictures, so you’ll have to say cheese soon birdboy. Also, I found my name. I’m Cal.”

Allison’s smile broadened and she sneaked an arm around Cal’s waist.

“They are the new Straycat. Calico cat’s are the cutest shit ever, aren’t they?”

Well… Having someone as badass as Cal watching Tom and Alley’s back would sure make Tim feel a lot better about both kids being out in the streets.

Were they still on the streets? He’d need to find out and fix that, soon.

Then it hit him. “What app?”

Auburn-hair smiled from his place, at the front of the crowd just behind the Cats.

“Felix over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at Mr Harrinson’s son, who smiled shyly at Tim, eyes shining in gratitude and admiration like they always did when Tim did his rounds and checked on his dad, “defended you in a GothamHeroes forum once. Some bratty douchebag was complaining about you landing over his car or something and this kid went for his fucking troath.”

“I was in that chat too,” spoke Tom, smiling a little too savagely for a kid that sweet. “He tore the idiot to shreds, speaking about how you saved his dad’s life and took it upon yourself to make sure he was still okay even weeks after you met. I mentioned how you saved Alley and Mrs Denvarow, we exchanged numbers… then we met Cal during one of our rounds handing out Mrs D’s scarfs and food. They were weary of everyone else, but trusted us because they heard you talk about the clothes and baked goods... And Cal’s friend Gina worked with Samantha on the streets and told them about her story...”

“Soon, it seemed like people personally saved by you were just… popping out of the snow like daisies” Blair laughed, and it was still the loudest, brightest noise. The night seemed a little clearer, the air a little fresher for it. “Felix made his own private chat and added us, and we added everyone else we knew… The word went around about it, and more and more people joined in…”

“It’s really a wonder how you had any time to fight crime, seeing how often you were apparently comforting jumpers on the roofs” Ailbert, still as gigantic and gentle as always, raised a hand from the middle of the group. He had a little girl on his shoulders, probably the baby niece he had taken in after his sister’s death.

“Then the new kid appeared and Gotham went to hell on a basket, and no one saw you around any longer”, Elijah, wrists no more scarred than the last time he saw him, his arm tangled with Maddie’s, went on. “We were… well, we were a bit confused.”

“Speak for yourself, Cal jumped Red Hood one night, held him at knife point and demanded to know what the fuck happened to our Robin. We were like, zero chill.”

“Sorry, they did what?” Tim was definitely in the twilight zone now.

“No thoughts, head empty, only murder”

...Tim needed to give Jason a quick call. Also sign Cal up for anger management. And probably, judging by the way both Alley and Tom were looking at them, get one of the adults to give them the talk.

Mrs Eloise smiled at him, and like always it served to calm his nerves. That woman was a different kind of magic than Alfred, but magic indeed. “Anyway, dear, what matters is that we were worried about you. And then this incredible young man, Aaron,” she waved at him, and he winked one of his green eyes in response, “suggested we kept in closer contact with one another, so anyone who spotted you could inform the others.”

Aaron shrugged, his auburn mane of hair bobbing with the movement. “It just seemed like it’d be easier to have an alarm set up, since messaging everyone would take so long… and then someone suggested making a map of Gotham so we could have clearer routes for the kids handing out Mrs Denvarow’s stuff… and someone wanted a shared blackboard to write theories on where the fuck you were with others… and a few demanded a space to share photos, possible sightings or old selfies with you… It kinda spiralled and I thought it’d be less of a chaotic mess if I made an app that could do all of that, instead of all of us using multiple apps for the different fixtures everyone asked for… Since this is Gotham, we also added some Rouge Alarm for whenever a criminal was set loose. It helped keep us safe, and if we knew when crime was happening, we could pay attention to which heroes answered the call…”

“And then, you fought that firefly guy the other day”, Felix said, still by his dad’s side, still looking as awed as ever when looking at tim. “I was in the crowd, and I recognized you within a minute.”

“I don’t really understand technology that well, and the group chat was such a mess that day” Ailbert lamented, but he was still smiling. They all were.

That hit Tim then, hard.

They all looked so happy to see him. To have him back. They had been waiting for him to be back, banded together to make sure they’d all know when he did.

“You looked so sad the last time we saw you” Blair added softly, sadly. “And… when you saved Aaron, you told him about such sad things…”

Elijah winced “And I heard the Midnighter fell from Wayne Tower a few weeks ago, but then he was never seen around again, and your suit looks kinda similar, so that was probably really you… and, that fall…”

“We were very worried” repeated Eloise, but her eyes didn’t lose their warmth. “But you’re back now, and we can keep track of you and each other now, so it’s all good. It’s wonderful to have you back, love.”

This was an out of body experience.

Something must have shown on his face, because Cal snorted.

“We adore you, you dumbass. You are our hero.”

Alley smiled. “You are our Robin.”

Tim fell into her arms, and away from the roof’s edge. The rest of the crowd was upon them in seconds, all eager to pat his back or joke about the cowl hiding his hair from their hands.

He met eyes with Aaron, over Alley’s shoulder. He looked like the hope Tim had helped plant in his heart all those months ago had flowered, and the petals filled his heart.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the best ways)

“You should download the app too, so you always have someone to talk to. Look it up. It’s called BirdWatchers, because we’ll always look up and out for you. Because when we wanted to jump, you lended us your wings to fly instead.”

It was like this fucker wanted Tim to cry.

“Welcome home, Red Robin.”

#My writing #Tim drake #batman fanfic #red robin #trigger warning:#depression #suicide attempts #discussion of suicide #overdose #mental illness #hurt comfort #Tim doing the comfort and being the hurt #until he gets the comfort #happy ending #wholesome #I swear the tags are scary but it IS wholesome #Tim drake centric #my writting

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theimmaterialplace · 3 years

Text

i’ll give you all you want if you just ask | spencer reid x f!reader | ch. 1 of 2: all i need

Summary: It doesn’t take a profiler to notice that Spencer Reid is nervous around you. Half of the team finds it funny and the other half just ignores it. What you don’t know is why. Well, you have an idea but you’d rather not be wrong in your deduction and make a fool of yourself and make him just avoid you completely.

See, it’s not that you just make him nervous, it’s that you make him excited. He perks up every time you enter a room and shoots you a shy smile, never making eye contact. He shivers any time you accidentally, or purposefully because you can’t help yourself, brush against him. He follows your lead eagerly and without complaint, able to connect the pieces you’ve put together. Perhaps the most damning piece of evidence is the way he reacts to your praise.

Oh, how his reactions always excite you.

Contains: hints of light dom/sub undertones, teasing, praise kink. no actual smut yet, just a bit of kissing and allusions to sex. enabler!hotch.

Word Count: 1.7k

Comments: hello im back this very self indulgent fic! i just love sub!spencer to pieces and there aren't enough fics with him featuring that so i'm here to remedy that! also just assume rossi had a date or something and couldn't make it! i'd say this takes place before a bit before the reaper arc! also i fucking adore hotch and HAD to make him an enabler because he just wants his team to be happy!! he cares for them!! if you’d rather read this on ao3, here’s the link! finally, leave a comment/review so ik how yall feel! reblogs are also highly appreciated! :)

It doesn’t take a profiler to notice that Spencer Reid is nervous around you. Half of the team finds it funny and the other half just ignores it. What you don’t know is why . Well, you have an idea but you’d rather not be wrong in your deduction and make a fool of yourself and make him just avoid you completely.

See, it’s not that you just make him nervous, it’s that you make him excited . He perks up every time you enter a room and shoots you a shy smile, never making eye contact. He shivers any time you accidentally, or purposefully because you can’t help yourself, brush against him. He follows your lead eagerly and without complaint, able to connect the pieces you’ve put together. Perhaps the most damning piece of evidence is the way he reacts to your praise.

Oh, how his reactions always excite you.

You’d conducted an experiment over the past few months. At first, you had given him compliments such as “I like your outfit today” or “good work on today’s case”, harmless things. He had reacted as well as you expected, blushing the tiniest bit and muttering a thank you in response.

Next, you decided to take a page out of Morgan’s book and call him pretty boy which eventually turned into a whole slew of nicknames revolving around praising him. The first time you had called him pretty boy, he had burned his mouth because he gulped his coffee too quickly. His face was a bright red and he was incapable of meeting your eyes for the rest of the day. As it was, that was a great reaction but your favorite had to be the time you called him a good boy. He had looked up at you with wide eyes and his pupils had dilated so much that you barely saw his original eye color. Now that should’ve been enough to confirm your beliefs but you decided to take it a step farther.

The most recent trial had you calling him your boy, a possessive indicator. There was no hiding your intentions with this one so you made sure to only call him that in private; no need for the team to know. It seemed like no matter how many times you called him yours, one way or another, it still had the same effect on him.

With this information, you had no doubt that Spencer was interested in you and seemed to lean on the sub side of things. It was cute. He was cute. He was just your type in men. You loved nothing more than a man who was intellectual and would let you take control, which you had no doubt Spencer would allow.

It’s on a Saturday night when everyone decides to get drinks, a rare occasion, that you decide to make a move. Well, you’re actually encouraged to by someone you would least expect.

“So, when do you plan on making a move on Spencer?” It takes everything in you not to choke on the fruity drink you were sipping on when Hotch speaks up. You turn your head to look at him and find him staring at you with a smug, knowing look on his face.

“I’d say I have no idea what you’re talking about, but that’d be a lie and also an insult to you.” A small grin creeps onto his face with your response. It’s nice to see him so relaxed because god only knows how much your boss deserves to let loose every once in a while.

“Hm, you’re avoiding the question. Don’t tell me that all those pet names and touches were for nothing.” It’s a good thing you’re lightly buzzed because otherwise you’d feel completely mortified over the revelation that your boss had picked up on your actions. As you are now though, you can only let out a laugh and smile sharply at his remark.

“Course not, Hotch. As for an answer to your question,” you pause and look across the bar to where he’s laughing at something Penelope said, “I think it won’t be too long now. He’s just so… receptive .” He only hums, taking another sip of what you think is whiskey.

“Well don’t take too long.” And perhaps it’s his encouragement or just the liquid courage but you decide that now is a good time to get your boy. You excuse yourself quietly and give Hotch a small wave which he returns with a small smirk on his face.

When you finally reach Spencer, it’s to him saying goodbye to the rest of the team.

“Come on, stay for a bit longer. We’ll have a fun time. We always do.” Derek might be able to convince him if he keeps going on like this so you decide to interrupt.

“Hey, guys!” Everyone turns to look at you and they all clammer to ask you how you’ve been, giving Spencer the out he needed.

“So, what were you talking about with the boss man? I saw some very interesting expressions over there, babe.” Penelope has a sly grin on her face as the rest of the team “oohs” at her statement.

“Oh, just a little bit of this, little bit of that. Don’t tell me you thought I was flirting with him…” at this, their shoulders drop a little, “Oh my god, come on, you guys! As if I’d flirt with Hotch. You guys though…. You’re all free real estate.” You wink at them in good fun.

“You’re almost as bad as Derek with your flirting, you know that?” Emily takes a sip of her drink and JJ nods, agreeing with her completely.

“Now, there’s no need to insult me like that, ladies. At least I take my flirting seriously. When was the last time you even got laid?” You can feel Spencer’s eyes on you so you decide not to answer.

“I plead the fifth!” This gets you a round of laughs and you decide now is a good time to tell them you’re leaving and start your plan.

“Well, I’m glad everyone is having a good time but I really gotta go,” this earns you a round of “boos”, “I know. I know. Sure it may be old lady behavior but I have plans tomorrow morning. You guys have fun for me though!”

JJ speaks up, “Oh, since you’re leaving right now, would you mind taking Spencer home? I was going to give him a ride since the metro is closed tonight but you’re already leaving so I figured why not?” You only nod while internally you can’t help but think this is going even more perfectly than you originally thought.

You look over to Spencer who’s already looking at you. “You okay with that, pretty boy?” He nods and even with the lighting of the club, you can recognize his cheeks flushing.

You turn back to the rest of them to address them,“Well, goodnight guys! Be safe and I’ll see you Monday if everything goes well! Love you!”

After receiving the mandatory goodbye hugs and kisses, you grab Spencer’s hand and lead him out of the club. It’s a good thing you parked far away because now you have time to set the mood.

“How many drinks have you had tonight? You look moderately red, Spence.” It’s a good starter because you need to know he’s not drunk and that this is fully consensual but also to call him out on his blushing.

“I didn’t drink tonight. Didn’t really feel like it so I just nursed a coke and I think the team thought it was a mixed drink.” His voice is heavenly and you personally can’t wait to hear what he sounds like moaning your name or any other name you both decide on.

You stop for a moment and place the back of your hand on his forehead before you announce, “Good news, you don’t have a fever! Bad news, I can’t place why else you’d be so red.” He splutters for a moment and your red only turns him more red.

“Yeah,” his voice cracks and you feel his palm become sweaty despite the cool temperature, “I don’t know why either.”

He’s so adorable if he thinks you’re gonna let him off the hook so easily. You lean in closer to him and whisper, “You know, my darling… I think I do know why you’re so red right now and it’s the same reason you’re always blushing around me,” you can hear him audibly gulp but he doesn't display any signals for you to stop so you continue, “The team used to think it was because I made you nervous and while that is partially correct, I think it’s because I made you excited, right?”

You stop in your tracks and you’re grateful you timed this correctly because you’re able to back him onto your car.

He’s looking down at you, eyes wide and pupils dilated, and you can’t help the smirk that graces your face. He looks so good like this but you think he’d look better looking up at you from his knees.

You reach up to cradle his face in your hands and say,“Tell me if you want this, Spencer. If you say no, I’ll stop and we’ll never have to speak of this again but… If you do want this, say please and I’ll take you home.”

He’s looking at you with something close to adoration and his admission is so quiet that if you hadn’t been staring so intently at him, you wouldn’t have heard him or read the plea that fell from his lips.

“Please.”

Oh, how that one little word sounded like music to your ears.

You take the last leap and lean forward to kiss him. His lips are exactly how you pictured and he tastes like the chapstick you gave him on that case to Alaska. This makes you feel unbearably smug because if he’s been using this chapstick rather than his usual one, it means you’ve affected even more than you thought.

When you finally pull away, Spencer looks confused and very rumpled.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I’d rather we didn’t do this in a parking lot for our first time.” He perks up at “first time” and you smile at him, “and there will be plenty of times to do this later. You’re not getting rid of me now that you’ve finally succumbed to my advances.”

“I agree.” He smiles at you and you take his hand into your own, giving it a light squeeze.

“Now, let’s get to my apartment so we can continue this."

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #my writing #if you just ask

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rreeaahh · 3 years

Text

“I like you in blue.” | Blaise Zabini

pairing: blaise x ravenclaw! fem! reader

words count: 5,786

summary: despite of any difference between them, blaise found himself falling for the ravenclaw girl who likes to shuffle the tarot cards.

warnings: swearing; underage drinking; sexualizing; smoking; fluff, angst, happy end

tagging a person who showed minimum interest for this idea (sorry if im bothering you, love!!!) @freddieweasleyswife

a/n: this is the longest thing i’ve ever create. please be kind dear lord.

Your smile was growing with every joke Michael Corner was telling you and the other Ravenclaw girls while sitting in the courtyards of Hogwarts, the sun giving your hair a fairy sparkle. Your robe was besides you, the sunny day of April giving you a warm feeling to your spine and if it wasn’t the blue tie around your neck, tied carefully, Blaise Zabini wouldn’t assume your house.

“Blaise, fuck off,’ spoke Pansy, already annoyed by his lack of concentration to her speech, ‘I’m trying to help you with your birthday party.”

The Slytherin boy looked at her and gave her a bored look, after rolling his eyes. “I already told you, Pans, my birthday is next week, Monday.”

“Yes, I know,’ she responded with a sigh, ‘but we can throw the party Saturday.”

“Why not Sunday?’ asked Goyle, his best mate nodding his head.

“Yeah, Sunday’s closer to Monday,” Crabbe added, making Draco roll his eyes.

“Because you two are the dumbest people alive and you’ll be sick the next morning, and that’s going to get us in trouble if we’re caught.”

“Yes,’ continued Pansy, ‘so keep it a secret, only Slytherins.”

The rest of them agreed with the dark haired witch, but Blaise was looking to you again. He was somehow jealous of the way other guys could talk to you so easily and make you enjoy the conversation, while he failed every time he tried to approach you. He could feel you tense up as soon as he’d be next to you, talking, and how you were trying to avoid any contact with him.

“Do you hear me, loverboy?” Pansy snapped her finger in front of him, gaining his attention. “Only Slytherins, so stop looking at her.”

Despite of his friends believes, Blaise was interested in you. They told him multiple time about your subtle rejection, but you never actually told him to stop – he’d observed you since your fourth year and he figured out your talkative attitude, and he was pretty sure that if you’d want him to disappear, you’d simply tell him.

“Oi, Blaise,’ spoke Goyle, also looking at you, ‘didn’t you get bored?”

“Yeah,’ Crabbe continued his speech, like an annoying parrot, ‘she’s annoying, playing hard to get.”

“Besides,’ said Malfoy before Blaise could tell something, ‘I really am surprised you pay that much attention to a mongrel.”

He only rolled his eyes again, questioning himself about the kind of friends he chose – it was true that he also had that purity concept in his mind, but when it came to you it seemed to be invisible; besides, you were half as pure as he was, so it wasn’t such a big deal.

“She doesn’t play hard to get, Crabbe,’ he said and got up, the bell announcing the end of the last break of that day, ‘She is hard to get, and that’s a really fun game to play,” he smirked to himself as he saw you leaving the group of Ravenclaws and going to your last class for that day. “My birthday, my guests, Parkinson,” he simply said to the girl and left them behind, following your steps to the Divination class, a class he chose to attend in his third year just because of boredom. That’s were he saw you for the first time, and the next year he found himself looking for you in the big room.

Usually you were going to Divination with your housmate and friend Padma Patil, a girl who was somehow strange in Blaise’s opinion just for the fact that she was in a different house than her twin – looking at the Weasley boys he always thought hat identical twins are identical in everything. When Blaise entered the class, the tea smell hit him immediately, along with the scent of old books from where Trelawney could teach them something important, but she only spoke nonsense.

His eyes found you quickly, seeing you at a table, looking at the crystal globe with boredom. He walked to you and set his books down, gaining your attention, You looked like you saw a ghost, but that didn’t make him step back.

“Hello, dove,” he spoke gently as he sat down next to you.

He could already feel you tense up because of the nickname he gave you after a dove sat on your head in the fourth year, as you were in the train station, waiting to go back home. Nobody seemed to notice besides Padma and Cho, who were right next to you, but Blaise saw and smiled when you two made eye contact.

“Blaise,” you simply greeted him, trying as hard as you could to give him as little attention as you could.

Deep down you knew that all the attention Blaise gave you made something to grow in your soul, but you were also aware of all the comments running around Hogwarts about his reputation and behavior, so you tried to keep you for yourself. He wasn’t a bad person to you, even if you often heard him being a jerk to his friends, but that wasn’t enough to fall into his trap.

“How it comes you’re here, all alone?” he asked in a calm voice.

His voice was something you started to hate about him – it was so dual; when he’d spoke to anyone, he’d have a flat tonality, bored and cold, but when he’d spoke to you, he’d become the nicest person in the entire school, and that duality made you doubt his true intentions.

“Padma’s sick,” you said and looked at him in a rush, your eyes leaving his as soon as you realized he was already watching you.

“You don’t mind if I take her place today, right?” he asked and you dared to look at him, his dark eyes softening suddenly.

He thought that that question was actually asking if his presence was bothering you or not. By the way you’d respond him – sincere or just polite – he’d know how to treat you in the future. You, on the other hand, tried to make the best decision; a full hour next to him would be dangerous for your lucidity, but before you’d think twice you gave him an unexpected smile and nodded your head slightly.

“It’s fine,’ you said and Blaise returned your smile, ‘you can’t work alone in this subject.”

“So I’m just didactical material?” Blaise asked, pretending to be offended, but Trelawney entered the class, shuffling a deck of cards.

You didn’t respond Blaise, paying attention to the introduction the Professor made about that lesson, talking about Cartomancy and they way the cards could tell you the hole future of a person. Your tablemate wasn’t so concerned about her speech, his eyes and full concentration being on you. Even after two years of being aware of his interest in you, the boy still wasn’t sure about the nature of his feelings – it was a crush, an obsession, a target or a true love? He wanted so hard to find out and to reach that goal, but he couldn’t do that if you gave him no opportunity.

“Blaise?” you tried to wake him up from his open-eyed sleep he fallen into. He saw you looking at him with big doe eyes and he was amazed by the bright color and tried to play it cool, even if he was caught off guard. “We’ll read each other future,” you told him and continued to shuffle the deck of tarot cards.

“You really involve yourself here, don’t you?”

“I didn’t take this class just to pass time,” and by his shamed expression, you figured out that it was exactly what he did. You laughed at his reaction and continued to shuffle the deck. “D’you know how to do it?” you asked and looked at him – his eyes were scanning your hands, their fast moves.

“Ladies first,” he winked in your direction and you rolled your eyes. “Could you also tell me what’re you doing, exactly?”

“I need to shuffle the deck so the energies will become one – after that, you need to pick some cards. Think about your future and chose one,” you encouraged him as you showed him the cards.

Blaise got one out of the deck at showed it to you – The Lovers, upright.

“Another one,” you said and he did as you asked; The Fool, upright. You just gave him a look and he understood that you wanted him to choose more cards.

The next three cards made you open your eyes wider – Chariot, Hermit and Sun, all of them in reverse. Blaise looked at you, confused, and asked if everything’s fine.

“Well, we should take it step by step,” you began and took The Lovers. “It’s kind of obvious what that card means, but in connection with the rest of them it’s not so bright,” you admitted and he only looked at you, waiting to continue.

“The Fool means innocence and vulnerability, but it’s also a card that shows already misplaced steps, so maybe you have a romantic situation with someone but you made the wrong moves on them.”

Blaise raised his brows – did he make something wrong to you? Would that be the reason that you were so distant?

“The next three are more complicated,’ you continued, ‘because The Chariot means that a part of you knows what’s best but you don’t do it, and it may be because of The Hermit brings a fear of loneliness with it, but also a state of isolation. The Sun is a card that usually doesn’t bring bad things with it, so you don’t need to stress too much over it – it means that everything will end up fine, but you need to take care and to be gratefull.”

If Blaise would be honest with himself, he understood nearly nothing – the only cards that seemed important were The Lovers and The Fool – if that nonsense was true he needed to approach you different.

“Your turn,” you smiled and gave him the deck, which he started to shuffle, thinking about your future. He hoped for you to have more good cards than he did.

When Blaise gave you the possibility to extract five cards, you ran your hand all over them and picked the first ones that you felt connection with – The Devil and The Star upright, while The Moon, The Lovers and The World were reversed.

“Holy shit,” you said out loud, all the students looking at you as Blaise tried to figure out if it was good or not.

“What happened, Y/N?” asked Professor Trelawney and scared you with her sudden presence. “Merlin bread,” she also muttered and picked up the cards.

“It’s good?” Blaise asked. “I mean, we both got The Lovers and The Sun and The Moon,” he said confused.

The panic took control over him as he saw you being concerned with your cards. “That means your approaching future is connected,” the teacher said, suddenly excited of the odds the cards predicted.

“But not in a necessary good way,” you said somehow annoyed. “The Devil means seduction and The Star is hope, The Moon in reverse is full of insecurities and fears, while The Lovers in my case will bring suffering and conflict.”

Blaise felt embarrassed. He thought that you two will match each other in a good way. “And The World?”

“The World in reverse means that she’ll feel incomplete for a while,” Trelawney explained and clapped her hands. “You two are bonded, you need to keep in touch with me for the next days, kids, that’s exciting.”

The teacher left and gave you a feeling of anxiety, being alone with Blaise. The cards meant that you two will have a dark future together so all you needed to do to avoid that is to avoid him – but why did that idea give you a bigger feeling of sadness that the cards did?

You let the rest of the deck back on the table and started to write down what Professor Trelawney was telling about Cartomancy and its way to predict the future. “Y/N,” Blaise whispered, trying to get your attention, but you asked him to let you focus. And he did. He even wrote down some things too, despite it was clear that he was bored to death.

“That’s all for today, kids, and remember! The future can’t change you, but you can change the future!” the teacher shouted. “Or it was inverse?”

***

“Michael, shut up,” you laughed and cover your mouth, trying to make less noise. “We’ll be kicked out of the library.”

It was already Saturday and a lot of students were in Hogsmeade, leaving the castle emptier. Michael offered himself to help you study to Potions, an object you were struggling with. It was even more complicated now, when Horace Slughorn was the teacher.

“Fine, fine,” he said and grabbed your hand, uncovering your mouth. His action was seen by the Slytherin boy from across the room, who was pretending to study with his friends. “I think we’re done here,” the boy told you and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re not helping me if you get bored after twenty minutes,” you told Michael as he got up and grabbed his things, smiling to you as he left you there, books all over the table along with parchments.

Blaise saw it as the perfect opportunity to approach you again – since the weird Divination lesson he got no chance to talk to you. You were always running to your classes, eating with the rest of the Ravenclaws, hiding Merlin knows where – all he got to do these few days was to watch you whenever your ways would came together. He left Crabbe and Goyle alone, not caring if they would say something in protest.

“Alone again, little dove?” he asked you and sat down right next to you, making you jump in your chair, scared of his sudden apparition.

“Not anymore,” you chuckled and damned yourself for the feeling of joy that erupted inside you.

“Glad to keep you company,” he smiled gentle, resting his elbows on the wooden table. Blaise Zabini was a gorgeous boy – his dark eyes seemed to be lighter when the sun would hit them and his skin seemed to be warm and soft, especially his lips, which would always lift up in a smile near you. He wasn’t the same bored, annoyed and frowned boy you’d see when he’d be around other Slytherins.

“Why so happy?” you asked and put your elbows on the table too, resting your head on your palms.

“Can’t a boy be happy when he’s near a pretty girl?”

“I’m flattered,” you smiled and looked at your notes, only to avoid his gaze.

The sweet gesture of blushing and avoiding his eyes made Blaise’s heart jump in his chest – it was a strange sensation, which made him even more confident on his decision.

“What’re you doing tonight, dove?”

You tried to think about your plans, but they were nonexistent. It was a Saturday night, so you’d probably end up staying up late with Padma and Cho while talking about Rowena Ravenclaw knows what.

“Nothing much, I think,” you shrugged. “Staying in my dorm.”

Blaise felt luckier than ever. “Come to a party with me,” he asked with joy in his voice. The smile on your lips only grew bigger in amusement but you realized that he was dead serious.

“A party?” you asked and laughed with sarcasm.

“Yeah,’ he responded, ‘don’t tell me that Miss Y/L/N doesn’t break rules sometimes.”

“Oh, she does,” you said and started to draw in the corner of one of your parchments. “What party?” you asked and this time Blaise was the amused one.

“A Slytherin one, of course,’ he said proudly, ‘and you’re my guest.”

Not knowing how to react, you gathered your things slowly as Blaise watched you and got up, squeezing the papers to your chest. “I don’t know,’ you answered and you were ready to leave, ‘I’ll think about it and I’ll let you know.”

You wanted to leave so you stepped away from him, but before you knew he got his hand around your wrist, pushing you behind a book shelf. Instinctively, you pressed your back against the old wooden shelf and looked him in the eyes, confused.

“Why are you always running away from me?” he asked directly, leaving you breathless. He was close to you, his body nearly pressed against yours, and his nose was blowing air on your lips.

“I’m not,” you lied and he just scoffed, like he was tired of this stupid behavior of yours.

“Y/N, it’s confusing, dove,’ he started, ‘you’re not saying no to my flirt but you don’t play along either. Am I bothering you with all my insistence?”

It was the first time when Blaise was playing his cards as he got them – open to the public eye; in that case, you. All you could do was to shake your head as you’d continue to watch his facial expression, now relaxing.

“Then why are you always so scared to be around me?”

His question was so simple and yet so complicated. If he’d know the true answer everything would change, and your future could be the same as the cards predicted.

“We don’t belong together, Blaise,” you sighed.

He laughed, shaking his head as he disapproved you. “And why’s that?”

“I’m a Ravenclaw and you’re a Slytherin,” you tried to say, but he interrupted you.

“You think we don’t belong together because of our houses?” he said like it was some kind of joke.

“Don’t you?”

Blaise Zabini didn’t know if he should be upset or amused by your question, Yes, of course he was raised with the idea of Slytherins being superior to the others, but he was also a very curious boy, who always got what he wanted – and now he wanted to know why you were running away from him.

“I don’t when it comes about you,” he confessed. “I don’t care if you’re a half-blood, a Ravenclaw or anything else, dove. You’re pretty, and I like you in blue.”

His other hand was now on your cheek, caressing your skin gently.

“I’m not so pretty,” you said and looked him in the eyes, like you were trying to convince him that he could do so much better.

“Shouldn’t Ravenclaws be smarter than that?” he joked, making you also let out a chuckle. “Come with me tonight,” he asked you again, this time witching you with his soft touch.

You were sure that Blaise put a spell on you, or else you couldn’t explain yourself why you were getting closer to him. “Ok,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” Blaise smirked and placed a fast peck on your lips, like he just showed you that his intentions are way bigger. “Sorry,” he said smiling, “I wanted to do that for two years.”

You blushed – hard, and he found it cute. Everything about you seemed to be so innocent and vulnerable that he wanted to keep you for himself.

“What should I wear tonight?”

Blaise shrugged. “I don’t know, dove. Anything you feel comfortable with.”

But his answer wasn’t satisfying. “I’ll find something good enough to not embarrass myself in front of all those pretty SLytherin girls.”

“They’ll be basic, darling,’ he laughed, ‘green or black.”

“Then I’ll search for something like that, too.”

“But I told you, I like you in blue.”

After another blushing cheeks, Blaise freed you and let you go to you dormitory. He went back to his table, were now were also Draco and Pansy, talking with the two idiots.

“I knew you’d come out of nowhere after your little bird left the library red like a tomato,” Pansy laughed but he knew it was just a way of hiding her true emotions – she wasn’t mean in reality, but she wanted to keep up with her boyfriend’s reputation.

“Funny, Pans,” he simply said and sat back down on his chair. “Got what we need?” he asked Draco.

“Yes, your mother made sure we could bring all the bottles back to the castle without being caught.”

“That’s the least she could do for her only child,” he joked. “Y/N’s coming tonight, so you better be nice – or, better, don’t even speak to her.”

“Why?” asked Goyle.

“She’s hot,” continued Crabbe.

“Watch your mouth, idiot,” muttered in annoyance Blaise, looking at him.

“Oh, c’mon,” continued Pansy with a smirk. “Don’t tell me that she didn’t caught your eye after she grew a pair of boobs.”

“She’s right, mate,” Draco said and laughed.

“Her body’s a bonus,” he admitted without any shame. You were gorgeous and he couldn’t deny that your body was a bonus to your personality.

“A big one, if we keep in mind that you know the bare minimum about her,” Pansy said in the same mean tone, making Blaise roll his eyes as the rest of them laughed at him for being so in love.

***

In six years at Hogwarts you took part to many parties – parties thrown by your house, by the Gryffindors or Hufflepuffs, but you never got the chance to enter the Slytherins’ Common Room and to party along with them. They didn’t bully you personally, but you had eyes and ears so you could be aware of all the mean comments those kids could say. Just because they were rich and pure they thought they were some kind of royalty, and you felt strange, being half of what they were.

The cyan dress was hugging your curves and the make-up Cho putted on for you was elegant and yet simple.

“Take care, ok?” Padma asked as she hugged you, being afraid of the idea – you meeting Blaise after the cards literally said that you two together would destroy each other.

“It’s a party, Padma,” you laughed as you stepped away from your friends, sneaking out of the Ravenclaw Tower. The cloak you were wearing helped you walk in the dark without being too obvious. It was around ten when you entered the Dungeons and when you were surrounded by the sound of water hitting against the stone walls.

In the letter Blaise sent you was written the hour he was expecting you and the password of the Slytherin House, along with an advice about how to trick the skull.

“Password?” the skull asked when it saw you standing there, arms crossed to your chest.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “Pureblood,” you said between your teeth, and the big door opened immediately after.

You stepped in and you were amazed by the green lights coming from the ceiling, the loud muggle music you could recognize and the dancing ring in the middle of the room. All the Slytherins were dressed elegant, the boys wearing shirts unbuttoned to the first two or three buttons, and the girls being dressed in fancy dresses while holding a champagne glass or dancing sensually with each other. It was new for you, all that club atmosphere.

“You’re Y/N, right?”

You looked behind you, were two young boys were holding firewhiskey glasses. You nodded, still confused.

“Blaise’s waiting for you,” the taller one told you while the shorter one held out his hand.

“Give me your cloak,” he asked nicely and you did as he said, thanking him. You felt kind of revealed, the dress reaching your knees while the other girls’ were half to their thigh or long to the ground, but cut on the side. Some of them were watching you and the anxiety took control over your body. Did Blaise really deserved you to go through all of these, only to see if you could be good together?

You followed the boy to the other side of the big room, walking past dancing teenagers. Blaise sat down on a leather couch, surrounded by boys and girls, all of them smoking or having a glass of alcohol. You really felt strange watching them, because you knew how forbidden was to do such things in Hogwarts – in the muggle word, when you’d visit your grandparents, you’d frequently see teenagers smoking in parks or having a can of beer.

“Y/N!’, Blaise greeted you with a big smile on his face, ‘you made it!”

He got up from the couch, abandoning his cigarette in an ashtray to hug you and kiss your cheek. “You look amazing, dove,” he whispered in your ear as you melted slowly in his arms. Now that Blaise was present, you didn’t felt in danger anymore. You were completely lost, no chance to leave that party without admitting to yourself that you’ve fallen in love with the boy who, for two years, was nice to you everyday.

“Guys, she’s Y/N,” Blaise told the others as he sat back on the couch, dragging you along with him. The other Slytherins greeted you and a girl named Tracey said how much she loved your dress, asking you where did you get it.

“It was a present from my mother, from the muggle world,” you said, realizing the words you said only after saying them.

“How cool!” she shouted, a little dizzy from the firewhiskey. “You two have that in common,’ she said while leaning to Theodor Nott, ‘Blaise spends a lot of time in the muggle world too, even if he hates them!” she laughed.

You only nodded your head and smiled to Theodore, who apologized for her behavior.

“Want something to drink?” Blaise asked you, a hand appearing over your shoulders.

“Do you guys have anything else besides firewhiskey?” you whispered in his ear, giving him goosebumps.

“I’ll bring you some champagne,” he said back, making you laugh.

“Fancy,” was all you could respond before he got up, leaving you alone with the others.

They were chatting and laughing, only Tracey smiling to you and asking you some questions from time to time, while she was now in Theodore’s lap. Blaise came back with a sparkling glass, the bubbles tickling you when you drank.

***

It was the third or the ninth glass of champagne and you were laughing to yourself as Blaise was talking nonsense in your ear, kissing your lobe from time to time while holding your hand. He’d kissed you now and then, only shortly when he considered to be fine with you – you didn’t mind his soft lips against yours.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you said and tried to get up.

“I’ll show you the way,” he told you as you were on your feet, but a sound of heels stopped him.

“It’s fine, partyboy,’ Pansy laughed and grabbed your hand, smiling friendly, ‘I was going to the bathroom too,’ she said, ‘and also, Draco’s waiting for you in your dorm, for your birthday surprise,” she winked in his direction and started to walk away with your hand in her, her steps taking you to a large common bathroom with mirrors and sinks and toilets. You entered a toilet in the same time as Pansy and let out all the liquids in your body, breathing in release. When you exited the toilet, Pansy was washing her hands and watching you through the mirror.

“I’m really glad you could come to Blaise’s party, he really wished to have you here near his birthday.”

“It’s his birthday?” you asked terrified. He never told you why there was a party.

“Yeah, but it’s Monday, you still have time to bring him a gift if those kisses don’t count,” she joked and winked to you, while your hands froze under the water. “It’s fine,’ she said when she observed the blush on your cheeks, ‘we already know about your friendly relationship.”

“Our…,” you muttered confused.

“Yes, Blaise told us how long he ran after you until you gave up and accepted.”

You didn’t understand her words. “Could you be more explicit?’ you laughed, ‘I think I had too much champagne.”

Pansy leaned on the sink and took out of her purse a cigarette, lighting it with her wand. “I heard Blaise telling the boys how good you were looking and how curious he was to see what’s under those blue robes, and I see he didn’t give up until he brought you here, to his party.”

“What?” was all you could ask, starting to feel the emptiness in your body.

“Yeah, I guess you know his mother,’ Pansy chuckled, ‘I think it’s a family tradition to want something that you can’t have and after you have it, to use it and be bored of it soon after.”

Her words were hurting your ears, your heart.

“But don’t worry,’ she continued in a friendly tone, ‘Tracey was in your place too, and she told me it was worthy – Blaise knows what to do with a girl.”

But he didn’t know what to do with you. That was his intention? To seduce you, to give you hope that you could be together, after all, and then to use you as a toy? Madness started to grow inside you along with sadness.

“Thanks for taking me to the bathroom, Pansy,” you smiled to the young witch, who only smiled back and watched you leave.

You wanted to leave. You wanted to leave and never get back there or near one of those Slytherins. They knew – they were aware of Blaise’s little game of playing with you and they did nothing. Of course they did nothing – you weren’t one of them.

“Dove!” shouted a voice behind you but you continued to walk until you left the Common Room, standing in front of the skull and ignoring its questions. All your dizziness disappeared once you heard Pansy’s words.

“Y/N!” called Blaise again, now grabbing your hand and making you stop. “What happened, dove?” he asked confused, his eyes red and his breath smelling like menthol and smoke.

“I don’t want to be here anymore, let me go,” you asked him calmly but he didn’t.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he requested worried. And that made you angrier.

“It’s wrong how stupid I am!” you laughed and freed yourself from his grip. “I really believed we could end up together for real!”

Blaise raised his brows. “We could?” he asked confused, and then he realized. “Of course, we still can,” he said immediately and made you laugh harder, angrier.

“Fuck off, Blaise Zabini. I’m not one of your toys so fuck off and never talk to me again,” you told him and left, he still shouting after you when he heard a pair of steps and paws coming from behind him.

Even if he knew what was the best thing to do for you two, he swore and got back into his Common Room, ready to question Pansy about what the fuck was wrong with her.

***

Monday was already a tiring day, but after a whole weekend full of tears, you were practically a zombie. The bags under your eyes were dark, no matter how hard Cho tried to help you to cover them, and the lack of sleep and food was obvious simply by looking at your face. The reason, anyway, was known only by you, your friends, and probably all the Slytherins.

Care of Magical Creatures was a fun class for you – that’s why you chose to take it. Hagrid was a nice teacher, always making everyone feel good during his lessons. The worst part was that Blaise and other Slytherins were taking that class too, and you didn’t feel like dealing with him. You practically had no idea what Hagrid was talking about because you were trying too hard to avoid Blaise’s gaze in the crowd of students. You’d look at the cloudy sky, the trees moving because of the wind and you tried to predict when the rain would come.

“Thank you very much for today, kids,” Hagrid said in his accent, happy that no one got hurt that day.

Everybody started to go back to the castle, following the path, but when you wanted to leave the forest the way was blocked by a solid body.

“Move away,” you asked without looking at him.

“You can’t ignore me forever, dove,” he sighed and looked over his shoulder, seeing that you two were now alone.

“I could try, at least,” you shrugged and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Could you just listen to me?”

“So you could lie?”

But Blaise did something you never expected – he got a little bottle out of his robes – Veritaserum.

“What the…”

“Stole it, long story,” he simply said and took a sip before giving you the bottle. You did what he did and gave back the now empty bottle.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Pansy told me you’re only playing.”

“I’m not,” he answered and you were somehow shocked.

“I don’t think we are good for each other.”

“I do.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to keep your mouth shut, but the potion made its effects. “I’m not good enough for you. I’m not like them.”

“Like who?” Blaise asked worried and approach you, grabbing your hands gently.

“I’m not elegant like the girls in your house. I don’t smoke and I don’t drink firewhiskey, I don’t party like that and I don’t wear that kind of dresses. I’ve never had sex and I don’t think I want to have just now.”

You covered your mouth and looked down to your shoes.

“I don’t care about those things,” he said sad. “I care about you, ok? I care about your smile and your passion for Divination, I care about your cute cyan dress and about your big eyes. We are good for each other, Y/N.”

His voice was strong and sure about its words, and that made your eyes form tears again. “I’m scared,” you admitted. “I’m not a Slytherin and I’m not like who you’d like me to be.”

Blaise smiled to you and cupped your face, wiping away your tears. “You’re pretty,’ he said, putting a little smile on your face, ‘and I like you no matter what.”

Knowing it was the pure truth, you smiled bigger and crushed your lips against his, the rain starting to pour on your bodies.

“I told you, my dove,’ he said with his forehead leaned to yours, ‘I like you in blue.”

You started to laugh with happiness as the rain started to be more violent, hitting the ground with big drops. Blaise grabbed your hand and started to run with you to the castle, hand in hand, his green robes fluttering along with your blue ones.

#Blaise Zabini #yn #ravenclaw #slytherin #fanfic #hp #blaise x yn #HarryPotter #harry potter fanfic #hogwarts #ravenclaw reader #Pansy Parkinson #draco malfoy #crabbe and goyle #cho chang #padma patil #divination #cartomancy

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zmayadw · 3 years

Text

Evening to all :)

Allright, so after two days of terrible headache, one sleepless night, lots and lots of coffee, and constant tweeks of what I already had written, its time to continue with the story. Lets have some fun at the Aurora :)

Wish you all a nice evening :)

CALL OF THE RAVEN

PART 8

We left the restauran and drove to Aurora. It was saturday night, but the bar wasnt that much filled with people yet. The Aurora was like most of the bars : booths wer on each side, tables towards the middle, but still leaving enough room for people to dance. The bar was on the opposite from the entrance with barstools arround it, a smaller stage and karaoke machine on the left, basement/storage entrance on the right, with big TV above it. Since Jessy's brother Phil was the owner of Aurora, we had a booth waitng for us. We settled at our booth, and i got up to get us drinks, since they refused to let me chip in for the dinner. Dan decided its still too early for whiskey, but emphasised that at some point in the evening we're having it. Jessy just groaned at that, and i chuckled going to the bar ordering us beers. As i was waitig, a guy appeared behind the bar „Put this on the house, Dave. Cant let her pay for her first drink here.“ As i turned ,he winked at me, setteling down a box with bottles on the counter. „Hello, Phil.“ I smiled at him „And thansk for the drinks.“ He extended his hand towards me, and i did the same. He took it, moved it towards his lips, giving me one of those cavalier kiss on it „Hello, Maya, nice to finaly meet you.“ I felt a little heat coming to my cheeks. Phil really was a charmer, as i was told, especially from Jessy, but i must admit he wasnt bad looking. He had a long brown hair, mostly worn in a tail. His eyes wer dark brown, and he was tall and muscaline. He was wearing a white shirt with the Aurora written on it, wich just made his tattoos more noticable. I was a sucker for tattoos. „Do all girls get such a charming 'hello' from you here?“ i asked teasingly. He grinned devilishly „Just the special ones.“ „I got warned about you, trying to sweet talk me.“ I grinned back. „Can you blame me? I'm a sucker for a beautifull woman.“ I felt even more heat coming to my cheeks, and was greatfull the light wernt that bright, so noone would notice, especialy Phil. It felt good, being flirted like this, but i didnt want to give Phil any wrong ideas. I knew from Jessy that he was interested in me, and to be honest, if Jake was out of the picture, it might be different. „Thanks for the compliment! But, i have to warn you, i might not be a good choice.“ I said, making a serious face, leaning a bit closer towards him over the bar, wich made him do the same. „I was told i was reckles and out of control, kinda hard to handle, stressing people too much.“ He looked at me, that devilish spark in his eyes intensifieing „Well, Maya, maybe you just havent met your match..yet.“ „Maybe.“ I replied, leaning back, smile forming at the corner of my mouth. We just stared at eachother like that for a while, Phils gaze intensifing with each moment. I felt my heart starting to beat faster, and i was really confused about it. What was happening here? Ok, Phil was good looking, but Jake was the one i was longing for. Wasnt he? „Well, as much as i'm enjoying talking to you, i better get those beers over to my friends.“ He glanced towards our booth „You just might need some more beer.“ I turned to see what was it that he refered to, and saw the whole gang showed up while we wer talking. Including Jake. I was glad to see him, i didnt really think this was a place he would feel comfortable being at, but i supposed Hannah made him come. I heard from Jessy they wer spending much time together, the three of them, wich wasnt to be unexpected. He was their halfbrother after all, they wanted to get to know eacother better. And Hannah made him stay at her appartment since he came to Duskwood. And then i noticed Jake staring, but it wasnt me he was staring at, but Phil. Oh boy, i tought, can my life be simple for just one evening. I turned to Phil, sighing „I guess your right.“ I took the beers, slowely moving from the bar, walking backwards. „Oh, and i have a feeling i might need something stronger soon, so keep a glass close for me.“ I said skeptical, but Phil just grined and winked „I'll be right here with that glass ready.“

As i neared the booth, putting on my best smile, they all stood up cheering. I settled the beers on the table, Hannah embracing me in a tight hug, with Thomas grining behind her. „Its so good to finaly do this.“ She said. „Its good to see you , Hannah.“ I said, hugging her back. Hannah let go of me, and now it was Cleo's turn. „Dont you scare us like that anymore, you hear me!“ she scolded me before smiling „I promise.“ She let go of me, and they all sat back. I grabbe myself a chair from the table near us, since the booth was full now. As i sat down, i glanced at Jake. He smiled and nooded at me, and i smiled back. Lily was just siting there, barely sparing me a look. I tried not to take it too personal, from the begining she wasnt that much fond of me, and the feeling is mutual. „So, how are you feeling?“ Hannah asked me. „Oh, im much better, thanks for asking. Few more days and i'll be back to my old self.“ I told her, as a waiter, Dave , came to our booth, bringing five more beers. I turned towards the bar. Phil just winked at me, and continued about his business. I noticed Jake saw that also, his body tensing a bit. „Thats good to hear.“ Hannah siad, and Dan chimed in „I'll drink to that!“ raising his glass towards me. I got my glass and added cheerfuly to him „Me too!“ Now Lily finaly spoke „Good thing it ended as it did, we could all be drinking our sorrow instead.“ I tensed at her words, a bit of rage forming in me, but Hannah jumped in before i could say anything. „Lily, stop it. We are all aware of how things might ended, no need to emphasising it anymore.“ She sounded tired saying it, i got a feeling this wasnt the first time the two of them had a similar conversation. „Im sorry, Hannah“ Lily continued „but you know how i feel. Maya's actions could have terrible consequencess, and i dont see what is there to celebrate.“ „How about me being here, Lily? Is that good enough reason for you?“ Hannah asked, but Lily just sat there silently. I couldnt be quiet anymore. „Im sorry you feel that way Lily.“ I started. „I expected you to be more happy now that Hannah is back. Yes, i made some mistakes, i know. But we all do mistakes, Lily, you should know it all too well.“ She shot me such a angry look when i said it. It wasnt my intention to start a fight with her or anything, i knew all too well how badly all of it could have ended, but i was also tired of it being dragged out constantly. „My sister could have died!“ Lily basicly screamed, wich made few people arround us turn to see what was happening. „Lily, enough!“ Hannah started, but i really had enough, and my head started to hurt a bit now. „Your sister could have died eitherway, Lily“ i said basicly hissing at her „No matter what i might have or might have not done. At least i had the guts to act, and would do the same all over again if i had to, gladly. Luckily, things turned out for the better. You should be happy about it, and stop dwelling on the 'what if's'. If you cant do that, to just be happy you got your sister back, then for fuck sake i dont know what more to say to you.“ As i finished, you could feel the tension gathering around. „Sorry all, but i need something stronger to drink.“ I stood up going for the bar.

Phil came as i sat on one of the stools, rasing his eyebrow „My, my, you wernt wrong about needing that drink. So, whats your poison?“ he asked me grining. „Oh, whatever you grab first, as long as it washes the bitternes out.“ I said, feeling that rage not setteling, and my head throbing some more. He grabbed two shot glasses, pouring both with whiskey. „Dont mind if i join you.“ He said, rising one of the glasses. I grinned, taking my glass knocking it at his „Its no fun drinking alone, anyway!“ „Bottoms up!“ he chimed, and we exed our gasses. „One more, please, the bitter taste is still not washed completly.“ „Comming right up!“ he said cheerfuly, filled both again, and we drank those too. Someone patted me on my shoulder, and i turned to see Dan standing next to me. „Aww, Maya, you started without me.“ He said, being dramatic and acting hurt. „Aww, sorry Dan“ i said making a sad face „You cant really blame me, after all that just happened back there.“ „Point taken“ he said, sitting next to me. I turned towards the booth. Jessy, Cleo, Thomas and Hannah wer still there. I could see they didnt seem much affected by any of what just happened. But Lily was gone. And so was Jake. Great, i tought. The night began so nicely, i guess it was too good to last. „Well, Dan, feel free to join us now. The more, the merrier.“ I turned to Phil. „Barkeep, antoher glass for my 'nonjudgemental' friend here, please.“ Phil grinned, taking one more glass and filling them all again „The lady commands, the lady gets!“ Now the three of us chinned our glasses, and drank up. „Phil, i think you and I will be very good friends.“ I started „Since i assume you are not theirs most likable person of all time.“ i waved my hand towards the booth. „And i suppose as of now, i might join that club, too.“ Phil looked at me, a bit sirious „I told you once before, Maya. Everyone gets the exactly right ammount of respect from me as deserved. I dont bother with the tought if im 'likable' to someone or not. You dont mess with me, and i dont mess with you, its simple as that.“ „Amen to that!“ It was Dan, and both Phil and me looked at him, not really expecting it. I started laughing so hard „Oh, Dan, thanks, i needed this.“ „What?“ Dan looked at me, question marks written all over his face. Phil just shook his head, lowering it down, hiding himself smiling too, filling our glasses again, and drinking his up. „If you two would excuse me, i actually have some work to do.“ He winked at me as he left. „Be careful Maya, Phil is a player.“ Dan told me a bit serious. „Dont worry, Dan, i'm a big girl, i can take care of myself. So, tell me, how much am i hated at the moment amongst the others?“ i asked him. „Dont worry, Maya, nobody hates you, trust me. But you gotta understand Lily. She really was scared for Hannah, and she tought she was doing her best.“ He paused for a while before adding „Just like you did.“ I looked at Dan, and tought 'shit, he has a point there'. „Ah, crap, Dan, why you have to be so 'smartypants' all of a sudden?!“ He chuckled at me „Look, both of you did what you did, and it ended how it did. Even if you dont see it, you both expected the same result. Just your ways of trying to acomplish it wer totaly different. And thats where all hell broke loose.“ I knew Dan was right, but i tought Lily would be at least a bit happier for having Hannah back, and not to be all bitchy about it, clinging so tightly on all the things that could go wrong. „All right, enough with this serious talk. I tought we came here to drink.“ I started, but added quickly so Dan dont feel me being ungrateful „But, thanks Dan. I understand what you wanted to say to me. I will keep it in mind, for the next time.“ Dan smiled and noded at me. I took a sip of my whiskey, when there was another tap on my shoulder. It was Hannah „Hey, just wanted to say we're leaving. It was really nice seeing you, we should definatly do this again.“ She said, adding „When things cool down a bit.“ She gave me an appologetic look, „Yeah, definatly! And it was really nice seeing you two, Hannah.“ She hugged me „And dont take Lily by the heart, please. I know she can overreact sometimes, but she means well.“ „Dont worry, Hannah, i understand, its all good. Hope i wasnt too forward myself.“ Now i looked at her appologeticly. „Everything is good.“ She smiled „Take care, Maya, see you later.“ „Laters you two.“ I waved at Hannah and Thomas as they left. Cleao and Jessy joined us at the bar. „Uhh, that was fun.“ Cleo said. „Indeed. Not really my definition of a 'fun night' i expected.“ „Dont worry, Maya. Lily is just a hard person sometimes, a bit overprotective, too. She will calm down, eventualy.“ Cleo told me, to wich I replied a bit skeptical „ So everyone tells me.“ Phil came to us, taking two new glasses „C'mon you sad lot, enough with it. I tought we wer celebrating a 'new girl in town'!“ he said cheerfuly, winking at me, filling all the glasses up, handing one for Jessy and Cleo. Jessy groaned at it, scolding Phil „Ohh, dont encourage this two, Phil“ she said, pointing at Dan and me „I'm the one who will have to endure them for the rest of our evening, with all that whiskey in them. And we all know Dan and whiskey doesnt end well.“ „Hey babe, dont be like that!“ Dan said to her, in that dramatical and hurt way he does, making Cleo and me laugh. „See, it already started.“ Jessy said, leaning her elbovs on the bar, sighing sadly, now she trying to be dramatic. „Awwww babe, i promise i'll behave.“ Dan said, pecking her on the cheek. „You better behave..remember, im the one you're going home with.“ She told him, giving him one of her serious looks. Phil was just taking a sip of his drink, and hearing Jessy say it laughed so hard that he spat his drink out. Cleo and me laughed with him, but Dan looked at Jessy all pale„Yes, ma'am!“. I took my glass, raising it „Last one? Then we get beer again.“ Jessy looked at me „Deal!“, the rest of them taking their glasses and we drank. „That's it for me“ Cleo said „I'll be going now. Have to be early at the Gates of Hope tomorrow. And you all know how my mother can be if its not her way.“ She said shuddering a bit at it. „Ohh, we dont want to get Miranda cross at you, or any of us.“ Jessy said, giving Cleo a look of symphaty. Cleo hugged me „It was nice seeing you, Maya. We should definatly do this again, soon. And i promise i wont leave so early next time.“ „No worrys, Cleo, thanks for coming anyway.“ I said, smiling back at her. She waved us goodby and left. We ordered some beer then, as i promised Jessy no more whiskey. „Sorry, Maya, i really didnt think this will go so badly.“ Jessy looked at me appologeticaly. „Oh, dont sweat it, Jessy“ i grinned at her „Im having more fun with just the two of you, anyway.“ She grinned back, when Phil looked at me, making a sad face, mimicing Dan's hurt gesture „Awww, and what about me, i dont belong in this 'fun club'?“ I looked at him and winked „We have our special 'secret club', remember?“ That made Jessy switch her look from Phil too me, all puzzled, but Phil just grined devilishly at me, winking „We sure do.“ Jessy turned to Phil now, making a serious face, waving her finger at him „Phil, you better behave! Maya is not a 'toy' to play with and throw away after it.“ I jumped in, before Phil could say anything „Oh, dont worry, Jessy. Phil was nothing but a gentelmen towards me.“ Phil grined at her, makeing an aureola sign above his head with his hands, sugesting him being an angel. Jessy just snorted „Yeah, yeah, more like a 'devil in disguise'.“ „Im not sure who's the 'devil in disguise' here actualy.“ Phil said looking at me intensely, my cheeks flushing again.

#duskwood #duskwood aurora #duskwood phil #duskwood jessy #duskwood dan #duskwood fanfic

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freshouttaparsnips · 3 years

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You were a simple kind of guy.

Life decided you deserved a little bit of complexity.

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a new series of fic that im gonna work on in my spare time!! its a skeletoncest polycule, but with an added reader twist uwu

tags: Reverse Harem, polycule, Poly of Skeletons, Fontcest, Papcest, Sanscest, but there's also a reader, Slice of Life, no real plot, Tropes Babey, Series, Homelessness, Reader is homeless, Reader has a dog, Reader is FtM, reader is unnamed

read it Ao3

or read chapter 1: Meeting the Horror Fellas below!

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You were a simple kind of guy. Sure, you hadn’t meant to make this move over to the Ebbott region, it was actually on the end of the long list of places you wanted to move. But that was where your job had moved you, so that’s where you’d picked up and gone, both you and your boxer pup, Peony. She hadn’t actually minded much; there were lots of dog parks here for her to hang out in, long stretches of sidewalks just around your apartment that definitely went on just long enough for her to get the need to GO out of her system. Your job was cushy, paid enough for you to splurge a little on the weekends, for you and Peony both.

You appreciated the finer sides of living just under a mountain… at least until said mountain damn near exploded and “Monsterkind” came through.

Now, that was not to say you had anything against monsters. Not in the slightest! You weren’t from around here, you understood a little of the general bias that people had against anything new.

But when the monsters had started entering the work force, well. People on the semi-lower rungs like you? Booted to the curb without a second thought in the name of equality. You’d lost your apartment, and Peony and you had been living in your squat little Ford ever since. It was rough, but you’d been saving up to rent a trailer on the outskirts of town for a few months, and your acceptance of monsters had remained, if not hardened a little.

You weren't going to blame them for needing the essentials of living, just the same as everyone else.

Which led to where you were now, warily watching a couple of more rough looking monsters that were chatting up the tiny, blond lady that worked the front counter of the store you’d finally gotten a job at. Peony had been adopted by the owners of the store as a guard dog, the little old couple chattering on and on about how cute she was. It just meant that you were allowed to keep her with you when you were on duty, a little vest velcro’d around her with the name and logo of the store on it.

You were stocking shelves, Peony keeping an eye on the situation just like you were. The two monsters were clearly from a Fellgrounds, a few other mountains nearby that had also opened up to reveal some monster societies that had gone a little sideways. Most of them had scars, war wounds, and generally had a distrust for other people.

You felt for these monsters more than others; they had to go through extensive testing and rehabilitation to even leave their Underground, though a lot of them had passed those tests if the local news was anything to believe. You weren’t really sure what to believe much these days, but you knew that Polly up at the cash register was trans and had already dealt with a few assholes today. Monster or human, you weren’t letting it slide.

Before you could even set down your can to head up, just to make absolutely certain nothing untoward was going on, a shadow passed over you, the lights above flickering in uneasy patterns as you stood stock still. The tallest monster you’d ever seen in person was passing through the next aisle over, their skeletal head nearly scraping the ceiling as they moved silently towards Polly. Something inside of you was terrified at the sheer display of power, the intent of magic thick in the air, but even you with your limited knowledge could tell it wasn’t directed towards her.

The two monsters were staring right at him, your own eyes locked on his lanky form as he made his way silently to the very front and tilted his head. “Evening friends, are you having issues with the cash register working your cards? I had such an issue the other day, I can help walk you through the process.”

There was nothing but primal fear in their eyes as the two monsters meekly shook their heads, jerking a thumb towards the door as they left, citing their sudden need to be elsewhere. The skeleton watched them go with something like satisfaction in his eyes, and it wasn’t until then that you noticed his outfit.

A bright pink and green tracksuit covered him from neck to ankles, and a bright peach exercise band around his head that said “JOG BOY” on it. Something about it made you relax a little from the tense state you’d been in, your hands setting the cans they’d been tightly holding on their respective shelves.

It was then that you noticed that the intent from earlier was gone, and good lord, was all that just from this dude? You watched as he leaned down to see Polly better, his expression one of humble kindness. She seemed to know him, looking relieved, and you couldn’t hear their full conversation so you figured you’d ask her later just what that was all about… and if you needed to take on more shifts to make sure that people, human and monster both, weren’t harassing the workers.

You’d grown to love working at this store, what with the inclusive policies and the fact that they let Peony stay with you on shift, and you weren’t going to see anyone or anything take advantage of it.

Just as you’d turned back to your work, though, momentary worry about your coworkers abated, that intent came back, only this time it felt cold. The skeleton up front’s warning had been hot, blistering to the mind, a sheer warning of pain.

This one felt like someone had dunked you in an ice bath and was threatening to leave you that way.

“You okay there, pal? Yer looking a little white around the edges.”

The voice came from just behind, your eyes squeezing shut before you turned around and glared hard at whatever asshole was trying to start shit… only to find yourself looking at the chest of another really big monster. He was also a skeleton, but he was shorter by a few feet (even as he towered over you). He was dressed more modestly, what with a simple ratty blue jacket and a pair of gray basketball shorts, but he was wearing a small pink bracelet around his wrist. Before you could even try to guess what it meant, he was leaning toward you a little.

“Hey, you okay? Seriously, I didn’t think Paps’ magic was that strong- well. Naw, that’s a lie, it is that strong.”

You blinked, still staring up at him, when suddenly you were grasped between two boney hands, lifted up and up until you were looking into the hollow eyes of the first skeleton… Paps?

“Oh, my dear human, I haven’t broken you, have I? I can admit my intent can come off a bit… excuse the pun, but intense, to those who aren’t used to our magic signature.” Then he was squinting at you, somehow, and you felt as though your very soul was being examined. You could smell the very subtle hint of some kind of fruity cologne, which made you want to laugh hysterically; what skeleton needed to wear perfume?

“He’s probably fine, Paps. We need’a get back before Red takes off.”

“Paps” rolled his eyes, gently depositing you back on the floor where Peony was severely sniffing all over you as if looking for damage, before nodding.

“Yes, I suppose you’re correct. Human!!”

You stood at attention and he laughed, handing you a little, lime colored business card. You took it with questioning hands, peering down at it as he explained.

“This is my phone number. Please text whenever you have time and would like to have lunch, I wish to apologize for putting you through such shock.”

And with that he pat you on the shoulder, seeming not to notice as you buckled a little under the weight and headed for the front doors, the other, shorter skeleton following along behind with a snicker.

You blinked hard, before collapsing to your ass on the floor, Peony licking your face vigorously once she’d found no signs of injury. You patted her gently both to assure her and to keep her out of your face, but stared down at the card, a simple number on it from the local area.

~THE PHONE NUMBER OF THE GREAT ICHOR!~

You blinked back the tears that had been growing, of both frustration and mild fear, and huffed in pain as you made yourself get up off the floor. Polly would be worried about you, and you really needed to finish stacking these cans.

#fresh writes #undertale #fontcest #papyrus/reader #sans/reader #undertail #fluff #angst #all the good tropes

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xiaodejunletsact · 5 years

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say it | dong sicheng

word count: 4,021

genre: royalty!au, princess!reader, servant/ best friend!sicheng, fluff and lil bit of angst and smut.

warnings: attempted sexual assault (nothing to graphic but still), violence, implied sex (well, kinda just sex)

author’s note: hey!! so i literally pulled this out of my ass as a little present for all of my followers as a thank you for getting me to 1K followers!!! i can’t thank you guys enough for supporting my work and i can’t believe im already at 1k what the fuckk. anyway,, i wrote this little au for y’all just a warning; its not very good since i wrote it so last minute but i still hope you guys enjoy it. actor!xiaojun is going to be done soon so please look forward to it!! once again thank you :)

synopsis: after years of not knowing what the feelings stirring in your heart for the young servant boy you know as your best friend were, an incident with a disgusting duke and the moonlight on sicheng’s face help you find your answer.

The only thing more suffocating than the corset wrapped tightly around your waist was the predatory stare the Duke of the neighboring kingdom was giving you from across the dining table.

Out of all the potential suitors your mother has picked in her 4 months of searching, this one was surely one of the worst; he was evidently almost twice your age; the top his shiny head was beginning to appear beneath the three pathetic strands brushed over to conceal the clear sign of his age. His hands were free of calluses and his neat nails were clear indication of the amount of work this man does in his everyday life. Once you finally look at his face, you realize that you have found the worst part of him: his eyes. The light blue of them that is usually seen as beautiful leans more towards grey causing an almost lifeless and frightening affect upon them, they’re hooded as they stare back at you; the shivers that go up your spine force you to look away, redirecting your gaze to your hands.

You smile when you see the neatly bent wire wrapped around your index finger, the helix shape it made as it circled your finger takes you back to the moment you received the makeshift ring.

You hadn’t known Sicheng very well at the time but you knew that he came from a poor family, your mother had taken in with the exchange of them doing the labor and work around the palace. He was only 16 when you met him for the first time, black hair falling slightly over his eyes as he frantically apologizes for god knows what only to stopped by your gentle hand on his, telling him it’s okay. He visibly calms at this before standing up straighter, trying hard to rebalance all the tray of pots and dishes he carries in his shaky hands. You can tell he’s struggling, but he covers up his failed attempts to calm down with a sweet (and slightly embarrassed) smile. That’s when you decide that you liked Sicheng. Maybe not in a romantic way, but in a way that you knew you wanted to spend more time with the young servant boy.

Which you did by following around the boy as he did his chores and asking him any questions that popped into your head, which he tried to answer the best he could while he body was racked with nerves. However, after a while, the conversation started to flow easier, Sicheng started to ask you questions back and openly display an emotion other than stoic. He would laugh out loud and even nudge your shoulder from time to time in playful gesture. Sicheng realizes he likes you too.

That’s why one day, as you two side by side down the palace halls on the way to the kitchen, Sicheng pulls a silver object of the pocket of his worn out pants and brings it up to your face. “My mother told me that my father gave her a ring as a promise to forever be loyal to her and… I just wanted you to know that I will forever be loyal to you, princess y/n.”

It’s difficult to explain the emotions that were going through you at the moment but they lead up to you happily throwing your arms around the boy, squeezing him tight enough that he can feel the genuine appreciation for the thoughtful gift. You don’t see is Sicheng’s face becoming beet red as you wrap your arms around him but you feel his arms wrap around you slowly, hesitantly, and his head lean on top of yours. When you slip the ring onto your index finger with a fond smile on your face, Sicheng has to look down at his feet to ensure that he hasn’t elevated off the ground and is floating above your head because of how happy he is.

“Is there something you find humorous, my lady?” You immediately snap out of your daydream as the taunting voice of the Duke brings you back to reality. You almost roll your eyes but smile politely, shaking your head.

“No, not particularly.”

“You were smiling just seconds ago.”

“Was I? I must have done it unconsciously.” You almost sighed in relief as he seems to buy it, nodding his head and standing up.

“Shall we take a walk around the palace?” He walks around the table and towards the exit of the dining room, not awaiting your response. You reluctantly stand get on your feet, sending reassuring smiles to the maids you sent apologetic ones you way before leaving the room.

“It’s a bit dusty on this shelf don’t you think?” The man’s white finger comes down on the counter in a swiping motion, picking up the grand total of about 4 dust particles. He shows you he clean finger as he makes a disgusted face. You think you might die.

That is, until you see a familiar face turning the corner. You feel relief rush through your body as you see the black hair you know so well. The voice of the Duke drowns out once again as you watch Sicheng dust a painting at the end of the hall. He has changed since the time you first met, he’s taller and slimmer. The baby face you once knew is long gone, replaced with sharp angles. The broadness of his shoulder has surely reached maximum capacity by this point, and you it quickly turns into one of those moments where you begin to wonder when did Sicheng get so… hot? These days you often catch yourself staring at him but so did every other normal person in the castle. While you were busy thinking about the hotness of your best friend your potential suitor has taken the liberty of calling him over to dust the shelves on the palace walls.

Sicheng’s presence is like a lavender candle, the closer he gets the more relaxed and at ease you feel. You nearly jump of joy when he’s right beside you. “Yes, your majesty?”

“Clean these shelves, boy. The person who did who did clearly didn’t know what they were doing because these shelves are filthy.”

You nearly snort at his statement, seeing as that you and Sicheng had dusted the shelves together that same morning.

“Of course.” Sicheng replies, carefully maneuvering the duster around the designs of the fancy shelf, cleaning off whatever it is the Duke has seen. Meanwhile the Duke goes off about the time he spent studying in Spain, and this conversation, much like the others gets drowned out. This time, by the outline of Sicheng’s back muscles through his white shirt as he dusts those shelves like a pro.

“Princess, your mind is awfully distant today.” The old man shoots you an accusing and annoyed look that shoots between you and Sicheng. You realize that he had caught you staring at the servant and was now giving you a judgemental look. “Is there something you need from this servant boy?”

Sicheng finally turns towards, keeping a straight face while making eye contact with you for the first time since you entered the hall. (Sicheng was told to not interact with you with suitors came to visit since it could put them off.) The Duke must see the corners of your lips tug slightly into a soft smile at the interaction because he suddenly steps between you two, clearing his throat simultaneously reminding you of his question. “Not right now.” But there is. You need him to get you out of here, you need him to whisk you away to the garden so you can water plants together and be at peace. Though you would never say any of these things to the old man because he would realize that you needed Sicheng in a way very different to the one he had thought of.

He watches you with suspicious eyes as you try your best to not show any of the emotions running through you right now, which proves to be harder than you expected. What with the scrutinizing gaze of the Duke and Sicheng’s gentle smile peering over his shoulder.

“Shall we continue the tour?” You suggested, desperate to move to a different topic of conversation. Thankfully, the man agrees and walks ahead of you, only after sending a dirty look Sicheng’s way.

“This is my bedroom.” You trace your hand across the intricate design of the familiar door, slowly moving past it to next room only to be stopped by the Duke’s hand on your arm, pulling you back. The second you meet his eyes you wish you could run away. The pale blue, dead looking eyes you hate so much stare back at you, this time, they hold a predatory feel. His intentions clear.

“I would love to see it.” You gulp, thinking of ways to politely decline his offer. However, you have no time to do so since the man is suddenly opening your door and dragging you into the room.

He examines the room with a somewhat judgmental look. Frowning slightly as he sees the odd knick knacks and artifacts you had collected with Sicheng over the years lining your window sills and filling up the majority of your desk. “This is very…interesting.”

You notice the wince in his voice as he says the words still, you force a smile. “Thank you, I got them from a good friend of mine.”

“Sit on the bed with me, princess.”

You feel your body go rigid when he says those words. Sweat begins to pool around the neck of your dress and you become hyper aware of all your surroundings. You’re nearly shaking as the man pulls you to the bed. No matter how hard you try, you can’t find it in you fight back. You don’t know why. Maybe fear. But you seem to become his puppet for a moment as he sits you down next to him on you nearly made bed.

“You know princess,” The man whispers into your ear causing shivers of disgust to go down your spine, you feel like you might cry as he moves even closer to you. His breath fanning your neck in a way that makes you sick. “I can’t be your suitor until I see what you have to offer.”

You feel yourself begin to feel sick and even then, you do nothing to stop it. It’s like you’ve lost full control of your body. Tears start running down your cheeks as the man leans forward and presses a sloppy kiss on your neck. You curl away in disgust, causing the man to look at you with an offended look.

And that’s when you see the familiar shoes from under your door frame.

“Sicheng!” You shoot up, pushing the man’s hands off of you. “Please, help!” The Duke’s hands are immediately on you again although now, they are over your mouth, being used to silence you. You try desperately to push away but his grip on you is tight. That is, until his hands are being pried off of you and his body is thrown on the floor in front of you. Suddenly you feel a pair of rough yet soft hands of either side of your face.

“Y/N?”

It’s only when you open your eyes that you realize that they were closed to begin with. The sight of Sicheng’s eyes calms you almost immediately (you were almost positive he was your remedy). His worried eyes bore into yours as he wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “Y/n, what happened? What did he do to you?”

You can only hiccup as you recall the event, the helplessness you felt and the pure disgust the memory brings you. Sicheng watches in concern as you sob in his hands, anger rushes through his blood as he turns to the man lying on the floor. Crouching down to his level, he grabs a fistful of the man’s expensive dress shirt. “What did you do to her?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Sicheng this angry. His forearm is bulging from the tight grip he has on the man’s shirt, the veins on his flushed neck protruding as he clenches his jaw at the man under him. “What did you do to the princess?” He repeats through clenched teeth.

The Duke stays quiet beneath him before daring to utter the words with a laugh: “Just sampling the goods.”

Before you know it, Sicheng’s fist was connecting with the side of the man's jaw. Only to be followed by another and another. Until two of the guards who had heard the commotion came running in, they both woke together to detach Sicheng from the bloodied man. Who stands up and sends Sicheng a threading glare before turning your way. He laughs incredulously in your direction and leaves the room with the little dignity he had left.

Once the Queen catches word of the incident, the Duke is banned from ever setting foot in the kingdom again, and she promises you to not bring in any more potential suitors for the time being. Saying she wanted to give you some time to recover from the traumatic incident.

And although she is grateful for the fact that he had stopped the Duke from taking advantage of you, The Queen was adamant on carrying out punishments. Sicheng was told not to interact with you while the suitors were here much less in such a violent manner. Even though the Queen loved Sicheng almost as much as you she did give him the weak punishment of staying two weeks in the underground servants quarters. Which moved his duties from the main palace floor to the kitchen and stables, which were inarguably the hardest jobs to perform around the palace, although you felt guilty for your friend, you knew you’re mother was only giving him a light punishment compared to what she could’ve done, so you stay quiet. Sicheng assured you that he would be fine down there but even then you found yourself sneaking out of your room at half past 1 with your thick duvet wrapped around your head, dragging behind you on your way down to the underground servants quarters.

When you reach the room Sicheng was staying in, you turn the doorknob gently as to not make too much noise. Then you’re met with makes your heart ache slightly. Sicheng is lying on a small bed with his bare back facing you, nothing but a thin sheet covering his legs. He shivers slightly as a cool breeze comes through the window and brushes against his body.

“Sicheng.”

The poor frightened boy shoots up from his bed at the sight of your unexpected presence. His hand falls over his heart as his eyes widen, his breathing calming down as he realizes it’s just you. “You scared me.”

You giggle, “I can see that.”

Seeing you like this makes Sicheng heart flutter, duvet wrapped around your head and sweet giggles leaving your lips. He nearly becomes mush as he remembers that this is a sight only he gets to see, and a memory that will be just his forever. He smiles, “What are you doing here?”

“I just can’t stand the thought of you being alone down here. It’s really chilly tonight too.” Your words scause Sicheng to smile once again, he scoots over until he’s against the wall to make room for you. You lay your body next to him and throw your duvet over the two of you. Sicheng sighs as he’s engulfed by the warmth of the duvet and your body, he then nuzzles his head into the covers cutely.

The bed is smaller than you thought it would be; you and Sicheng were practically pressed against each other. (Not than either of you were complaining.) The feeling of his bare skin under the covers causes your heart to race.

Once you’ve both settled in, facing each other as your eyes take in his face and his yours, a comfortable silence settles. The moonlight coming in through the window looks extra beautiful when it’s draped across your face, Sicheng thinks. His hand reaches up to stroke your cheek softly in an affection gesture that is not rare between you two.

“Thank you for stopping that guy yesterday,” you break the silence with the words you’ve hadn’t gotten the chance to say, “You’re my hero, Sicheng.” Though your words are childish, you couldn’t have meant them more. Without Sicheng, you would be nowhere. Those words were the only ones even remotely close to doing justice to the gratitude and love you feel for the boy laying across from you. Who smiles slightly at your words.

“You don’t have to thank me, princess. You know I would do anything for you.” It’s your turn to smile as he gazes down at you affectionately. You bring your hand up to his face and show him your ring.

“My most loyal companion.” He chuckles lightly before taking your hand in his and laying them, intertwined, between your bodies. “I want to give you something too, so you can remember that I will also always be loyal to you, Sicheng.”

Sicheng smiles but shakes his head politely, “You coming all the way down here in the middle of the night just because you thought I would be lonely was enough to remind me of your loyalty.”

You chuckle before looking up at Sicheng’s face once again. Then, it’s like the scene begins play in slow motion, the soft smile he’s wearing tugs your heartstrings a specific way, the moonlight in his eyes twinkle a bit brighter and it dawns on you…

Sicheng was your best friend. Sicheng was the one you could confide in the most. Sicheng has always taken care of you and helped you through your hardest times. Sicheng was someone you could always count on. Sicheng is the love of your life.

You’re in love with Sicheng.

The feeling had always been there, but you never knew what exactly it was that you were feeling.

The realization crashes into you like a wrecking ball, and the boy in question seems to notice. “What’s wrong?” Concern has seeped into the features of his face and you desperately wanted it to go away and be replaced with the gentle smile he was wearing moments ago. “You face turned serious all of the sudden.”

Another silence washes over the two of you as watch him be for another few minutes, processing the new found information. You know there’s no time like the present, there is no man like the one across from you and there’s no chance you’re going to let this perfect moment pass.

“Sicheng?”

“Hmm?”

“How would you feel if I told you I was in love with you?”

The boy immediately sits up on the small bed, eyes wide giving you dejavú to the moment you walked into the room earlier that night. “What?”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you realize that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. All that courage you felt just minutes ago nowhere to be see. “I’m… I’m in love with you.”

You avoid his gaze that is currently burning holes into the side of your head. You attempt to hide your blushing face under the covers only to have them pulled down by Sicheng, who pulls you into a kiss that was gentle enough to send you mind reeling but hard enough that you feel all the oxygen in your lungs leaving. Leaving you breathless.

You can’t believe this is happening.

Neither can Sicheng.

As you pull away and look Sicheng’s glassy eyes and swollen lips, everything feels so dreamy, you have a hard time believing this is real.

Sicheng decides to speak first, “Are you really in love with me?”

Your eyes quickly become teary like his, you nod. “I am, Sicheng.”

A laugh escapes his lips as a tear falls out of his eye, though he wipes it away quickly. “You’re in love with me. I can’t believe… you love me back.” The sincerity that stares back you as reaches up to wipe away the tear that had fallen from the corner of your eye.

The room is filled with the sound of soft sniffles and the love that radiates off of your bodies. Which settles for a few minutes until Sicheng decides to break the silence.

“It won’t be easy for us, you know.” His words carry a worrisome tone that reminds you of the fact that you are the princess, and (even though you didn’t see him as one) Sicheng was in fact a servant in the castle. You were supposed to marry a rich prince that would benefit the political affairs of your kingdom, Sicheng can’t do that.

But Sicheng can make you laugh like no other, he can ease your stress and cure your sadness like it’s his specialty. Sicheng can protect you and keep you safe from the world.

Sicheng takes care of the older maids when they fall sick, he helps people around the town with their chores when he has finished his own, he always thinks about the people around him before he thinks about himself. He doesn’t have anything to offer other then a heart of gold and good intentions.

What better person is there to be king?

“I know,” you bring your hand up to stroke his messy black hair, running your fingers through it before letting it fall back to its original place on his forehead. “We will have fights and people won’t agree with our relationship, we will have to be strong Sicheng. It will be worth it in the end.”

A closed lipped smile makes its way onto Sicheng’s face and he pulls you closer to him, his hand grips the back of your nightshirt tightly as presses your foreheads together. His breath fans on your mouth as he whispers the words he can now say whenever he pleases, “I love you.”

You chuckle and say them back. You say it again and again and again until his lips are back on yours. You keep saying as his kisses reach your neck and jaw, this time with a breathy tone to them; elated and breathless at the feeling of his warm mouth on your neck.

You say it when he finally finds his rightful place between your legs, hands on your hips as he slowly enters you, the sheets thrown off your bodies because of the increasing heat radiating off the two of you. “My Queen.” He sighs as he looks down at you, his eyes are hooded and lust filled, messy hair sticking to his forehead. Sweat drips down his chest and toned abdomen causing your mouth water.

You say it with your hands in his hair as his sweaty body crashes onto yours, your breaths meet and mix between you before he leans forward and presses one last long kiss on your swollen lips.

His sleepy smile is the last thing you before you fall fast asleep that night, Sicheng’s arm around your waist pulling you against him so he could feel you while he slept.

The Queen chuckles slightly as she walks into her daughter’s bedroom only to find it empty and the duvet missing. She figured you would end up in the underground servants quarters with Sicheng. You always did have a pull towards that boy, as did he for you.

Sighing, she leaves the room towards her office in the castle where her maid sits at the desk writing. “Darling, will you please send a message to the Southern prince who was supposed to come here in 3 weeks? Tell him to not go through the hassle of traveling all the way up here.” The Queen sees the confused look on the woman’s face and clarifies her words, “I think Princess Y/N has already found what she has been searching for.”

#nct scenarios #nct wayv #nct #sicheng #wayv scenarios #winwin #dong sicheng #nct imagines #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 #wayv #nct hard hours #nct soft hours

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taexual · 5 years

Text

HOLIC - 30 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: angsty fluff (my new favorite kind, apparently)

words: 3.6k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

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Each day after you’ve listened to Jaebum’s countless reminders and finally managed to compose the e-mails with your portfolios to send them to a few galleries around the country was more stressful than the previous one. You tried not to check your e-mail too obsessively but it was proving to be difficult and Jaebum, who was to blame for your newfound anxiety because he’d made you press the final button and send those e-mails, was now your only distraction.

He noticed your nervous expression each time the e-mail app wasn’t loading fast enough – because, of course, he’d notice these things about you – and he promptly suggested taking you out someplace that wasn’t home to get your mind – and his, too, though he tried to keep himself in check for your sake; he’s made you anxious about his music plenty of times already – off of this.

Now because both of you were mature adults who didn’t want to get drunk and then wake up early the next morning for work – obviously, what you didn’t want to deal with here wasn’t a hangover but rather the consequences of drinking alcohol with each other – Jaebum ended up taking you to the potentially least harmful place on the whole planet.

His favorite ice cream shop in his old neighborhood.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning when the two of you stopped outside of the old building and he introduced the store downstairs as a place where he’d come whenever he had stayed up drinking last night and needed something sweet, or when Mark was no longer willing to give him drinks on the house at his bar.

It felt special to be in a place that used to be a prominent part of his life and you were glad he took you here, but the butterflies nearly imploded inside of your stomach after he opened the door for you, allowing you to enter first, and one simple thought popped into your mind: this felt an awful lot like a date.

You tried to resist the impulses to smile and instead focused on Jaebum’s voice as he talked about the last time he’d been here with a group of friends after a night-out, and all of them have collectively agreed that ice cream was simply the best drunk food.

“Why didn’t you come here after that?” you asked him after the two of you sat down by the table next to the big, floor-to-ceiling window at the back of the store. It was sunny outside so you both found yourselves squinting at each other as you ate your ice cream.

“I moved,” Jaebum explained simply. “There was no need to go back here and, besides, it felt weird to return to a place that held so many memories after I’d set my mind on moving on. I thought it’d be a step back to come here again.”

The waffle cone you’ve brought to your mouth seemingly froze for just a second. You debated asking him if Suji lived nearby, too, but, eventually, decided against it. There was no point – you wouldn’t have learned anything new, just satisfied your curiosity which could honestly do with a little starving after you’ve gotten the answers to so many questions already.

“How does it feel to be back now?” you asked instead, focusing on the cold, sugary sensations in your mouth. The ice cream here really was good.

“Normal,” Jaebum replied, “which is surprising. I wondered what it’d be like to come back here and I feared it wouldn’t be the same and I’d be disappointed, or worse, I’d get overwhelmed with the memories and leave immediately, but, hey, the ice cream here is still good, the company is still good, so it’s… all good.”

You smiled at this. “Have you considered finding a new ice cream spot to eat in after getting drunk?”

“Mark won’t let me,” he said, making you snicker. “He used to come here with me and the rest of the guys but then he got that job at the bar – he’s, basically, a manager there by now – and now he insists we eat there. And, you know, when you’re eating in a bar—”

“—you end up drinking even more,” you finished knowingly. “Yes and that’s how alcoholism develops.”

“I’m sure that’s Mark’s end-game for us all,” Jaebum sighed. “Be careful. You’re one of us now.”

You tried to hide your smile behind your ice cream cone but it was probably still obvious in the way your entire face lit up when he said this. One of us meant he didn’t have – or tried not to have – any problems with you being friends with his friends anymore. It meant you’ve truly reached a new period in your relationship with each other, hopefully having buried all of the insecurities-turned-obstacles on your way here.

“I think I’m good,” you said, hoping that Jaebum will consider your wide grin as a manifestation of simple happiness instead of figuring out just how much hearing this meant to you. “I don’t drink that often anyway.”

“What constitutes as ‘often’ for you?” he asked, curious. “Sure, I’ve only seen you drunk a handful of times since we started to live together so you may not have a problem right now, but wait a couple of months. Mark and I are a horrible influence.”

You were laughing as he said this. “Mark? No way, he’s such a sweet guy! You, on the other hand…”

“Me?” Jaebum raised his eyebrows, mock-offense decorating his features. “I am the absolute epitome of the perfect child! My mom always said that any mother would be lucky to have a son like me.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” you replied, actually pausing for a second because that was nice, but then continuing anyway because teasing him has become your favorite hobby, “except, see, all mothers say that to their children.”

“I hope you’re not calling my mother a liar.”

“I’d never! I’m sure she’s a wonderful lady,” you replied, “so, I really don’t know where you get your attitude from.”

“Hey, watch it,” Jaebum warned you, the playful glint in his eyes mirroring the one in yours. “I’m paying for your ice cream but I might change my mind if you keep at it.”

Taking a bite of the waffle cone, you gave him a mischievous smile. “Why? Can’t handle a little roast?”

“That’s not a roast,” he said. “That’s slander.”

You laughed. “Slander means it’s not true and we both know that everything I’ve said is—”

“Here’s your check,” a female voice cut you off and you both raised your heads to look at the waitress that had stopped by your table, a metal tray with a check on it in her hands.

The waitress gave Jaebum a smile – and, to make her intentions even more obvious, she didn’t even bother to look at you – and then turned around to walk away. She was very pretty so you couldn’t help but follow her with your eyes as she returned to the register, but, when you turned back to Jaebum, you’d found out that he hadn’t done the same. He was watching you.

“I—” he started to say but then he picked up the check instead. “In all the times that I’ve been here, they’ve never brought the check over. I always had to pay at the register.”

“Hmm,” that didn’t surprise you. The sudden rapid beating of your heart, however, did. “Maybe she liked you.”

Jaebum almost scoffed. “No, I don’t think so.”

You couldn’t see why not – especially not after you glanced over at the cash register and caught the waitress still watching Jaebum – but you tried to continue to eat your ice cream as nonchalantly as it was possible while your chest proceeded to fill with surprising amounts of bitterness and—yeah, let’s be honest—jealousy.

“When I was a waitress, I also used to bring the check over to the table myself,” you admitted, “if I found the guys there attractive.”

Jaebum seemed surprised to hear this.

“Wow,” he said, his eyebrows raised. “I never pegged you for someone who’d do that.”

“I was lonely,” you shrugged, not proud of your choices from back in the day but not exactly ashamed of them, either, knowing that nothing you’ve done had any long-lasting consequences. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“It’s not desperate,” he disagreed, not trying to put you down for anything. Honesty was a virtue for him, though, so he found himself adding, “it’s just… kind of unfair for the other people that you didn’t find attractive.”

“It is, yeah,” you agreed and then sighed somewhat wistfully. It was so easy to romanticize memories, making it seem as though certain periods of your life were far more glorious than they actually were and you were guilty of doing that. Whenever you looked back at your days it college, it just seemed like a simpler time even though you knew that wasn’t true. “Oh, but, to make it fair, that method never worked out. I never got asked out by any of those guys.”

Jaebum leaned back in his chair, even more surprised by this confession. Clearing his throat, he finished his own waffle cone and then grabbed a napkin from the table between you.

“Okay,” he said once he’d finished wiping the corners of his mouth. “I might believe that you were eager enough to hit on guys by bringing their checks to them but I will never believe that not a single one of them asked you out.”

His words were like a sudden match, lighting you on fire and dragging you out of the fountain of nostalgia that you’ve caught yourself bathing in.

“I’m serious,” you said, your face very warm all of a sudden. “Must have been the planets aligning themselves to restore the balance of fairness because I gave certain people the special treatment.”

“Were there a lot of certain people?” Jaebum wondered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You were unsure why he’d ask you this. “No, I wouldn’t say so. Why? Is there a limit as to how many people a waitress can hit on? Because they didn’t fire me so I must have not reached it—”

“No, no, I was just curious how many guys there were who had no taste at all.”

Frowning lightly, you asked, “what do you mean?”

Jaebum shrugged his shoulders, toying with the check. He didn’t particularly like it when you didn’t understand his subtle flirting and he had to explain himself in more obvious terms but he’d have hated it more if he didn’t get his point across.

“Well, they haven’t taken the chance of asking you out, so, you know,” he said, “they have no standards. Or a horrible, horrible taste.”

You were going to die right then and there, you were sure of it. He was going to kill you.

“Well, are you going to ask her out?” you tried asking to redirect the attention from your flustered state to the waitress who’d approached you before. “She’s beautiful.”

“No, I’m, uh…” Jaebum was the one who looked down this time. “I’m actually not interested in that.”

“In that?”

Although your mind may not have quite understood his words, your soul seemed to know exactly what he was talking about as your heart – that was in the process of melting – suddenly focused on anxious beating instead. Even the butterflies inside of you settled down to listen, weighing heavily on your stomach.

“Well, you know,” he waved his hands around as if that explained it, “in dating her. In dating any other girl. I don’t want that.”

He looked at you when he said the last few words – somehow, hopeful that you’ll catch what he was really trying to convey without having to explain himself yet again – but you remained frozen in your seat, the ice cream now starting to melt inside of the cone.

“Oh,” you uttered and then, to hide the obvious disappointment in your tone, tried to cough. “Okay. Well, anyway—”

“Jaebum?”

The two of you were interrupted once again only, this time, right before you turned your head in the direction of the voice – it was coming from behind you – you caught sight of Jaebum’s eyes widening in surprise. He didn’t look quite as alarmed as he had when he’d thought Suji had rung his doorbell that one time – his skin had passed pale, and gone straight to translucent back then – but he didn’t look very pleased, either.

There was a—very pretty—girl, smiling at him from across the room. When his eyes landed on hers, she started to approach your table. He hadn’t indicated for her to come over but she was doing it anyway because, apparently, your table had suddenly turned into a hotspot for beautiful women.

Not that Jaebum wanted to date any of them because, as it turned out, he wasn’t interested in dating anyone. Funny.

“Wow,” the girl spoke after having stopped next to you. Her eyes were on Jaebum. “I never thought I’d see you here again.”

“I didn’t think I’d come back,” Jaebum replied, his eyes nervously drifting to you as you tried to let go of his previous confession and make sense of what was happening right now. The girl must have been one of his old friends but he looked awfully uncomfortable in her presence.

You busied yourself with finishing your ice cream and then reached for a napkin, successfully hiding yourself from the almost penetrating gaze of the girl next to you as her eyes landed on you.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked Jaebum. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

He didn’t like the question – frankly, you didn’t either; she could have asked you directly instead of treating you like you weren’t there – and you felt him reach over the table and place one of his hands on yours in a completely uncharacteristic manner. You nearly flinched and pulled away but, after noticing the determination in his eyes, you remained frozen instead, his hand resting on yours.

“This is my roommate,” Jaebum told the girl, giving her a meaningful look.

Her eyes were on your hands as a knowing smile spread across her face. “Oh, so this is her!”

She said it as if she’d heard about you before and you dared to raise your head to give her a good look. You were certain you’ve never seen the girl before – let alone heard anyone even describe her – and yet you saw recognition in her eyes. She did know you. Or, at least, she knew of you.

You weren’t sure if you should have said anything – she didn’t ask for your name or even bothered to introduce herself, after all – so you decided to just let their conversation play out and stayed quiet instead, allowing Jaebum to keep in control of the situation.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, his hand still on yours. “It is… her.”

“Well, it was very nice to see you again,” the girl said, more awkward now. She must have started to notice the unwelcome tone in Jaebum’s voice. “You should stop by here more often. We’ve missed you. And… we would all love to get to know your, uh, roommate.”

Jaebum wasn’t even trying to be pleasant as he dropped a very unenthusiastic, “I’m busy.”

“Of course,” she was clearly expecting to hear that. “Well, if you change your mind, give me – or any one of us – a call. I’m sure Suji would be ecstatic to see you again, too.”

You didn’t think it was possible for two people to flinch at the exact same time but it almost seemed as though an electric current had suddenly run through your body and straight into Jaebum’s – or, maybe, it was the other way around – as both of your gazes widened. Yours because you weren’t expecting Jaebum’s old friend group to include his old girlfriend – although, that made sense, knowing how in control of his life she was – and his because he wasn’t expecting this girl to be so obvious about her intentions, even though he should have probably expected her to bring Suji into this after she saw him take your hand.

“It’s good to see you, Jaebum,” the girl said after Jaebum didn’t respond to her previous statement.

Not removing his eyes from yours, he merely nodded in acknowledgment. “Cassie.”

The girl left you alone without another word – although she did hesitate which could have meant that she’d have loved to stick around for longer – and you let another moment pass before you dared to turn around. She was standing by the cash register, paying for three cones of ice cream. You turned back around as soon as you saw her glance back at you.

Both you and Jaebum waited until she left the store before finally speaking again.

“So…” you started, unsure where to begin.

Jaebum removed his hand from yours and used it to pinch the bridge of his nose instead. “Yeah. I didn’t think—I thought coming here during the day would save me from running into anyone I knew.”

“Was she one of your friends?” you decided to inquire first and foremost.

Jaebum nodded and then added, “well, more Suji’s than mine, I guess. I knew Cassie from university – she was a year above me. She was my coordinator—well, not just mine, but—anyway. Mark had a crush on her at one point so we hung out a lot in less official settings and became friends, I guess. Cassie is, uh—s-she’s the one that introduced Suji to me.”

As you looked down at your hand, still palm down on the table between you, you realized that this explained the unexpected hand-holding. He was looking for a way to prove that he’d moved on.

“I see,” you said awkwardly. “She seemed awfully eager to reunite with you.”

“Right,” he scoffed, “that’s not happening. That whole thing is over. When I tried to escape Suji,” he continued and you’d have judged his choice of wording if you hadn’t known what Suji was like, “I also ended up escaping half of my friends.”

“Well, if they didn’t stick with you, are they really your friends?”

Jaebum removed his hand from his face, giving you a nod. “I know. That’s why I never even considered reuniting with them. Although, it did seem childish at first. It felt like I was holding a grudge against them because they took Suji’s side after our initial break-up but… they were never really on my side per se, to begin with.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” you disagreed, angry about this on his behalf. “This is the place where you’d created so many memories. It’s not fine that Suji took them away from you. It’s not fine that you can’t come back here without running into any of the people that had pretended to be your friends for all of these years. It’s—it’s not fine, Jaebum. And I’m sorry.”

His heart – that had been hammering in his chest ever since Cassie came over to your table – finally seemed to calm down.

“It’s fine,” he said again, “because I'm not here alone.”

You swallowed, blinking slowly. “I would love to meet the other half of your friends. The real ones. The ones who stayed with you.”

This touched him even more as he nodded with no hesitation whatsoever. “You will. They will love you.”

He didn’t add anything else but this already meant so much. After having been left alone by nearly all of his friends, he was showing more and more willingness to finally trust someone new. He was finally ready to return to the places that had meant so much to him and create new memories – memories that he trusted not to become false in the long run.

And you were beyond confused.

He’d held your hand – which was a way to show Cassie that he couldn’t have cared less about Suji, no doubt – even though he was the kind of person who didn’t really care about what the others were saying – unless it was about his music, of course. But, you could find explanations to that. Cassie was Suji’s friend, it was likely that she was going to report all that she’d seen today back to her and Jaebum took precautions to make sure Suji didn’t try to come back into his life again. These precautions weren’t particularly unpleasant – you certainly didn’t mind Jaebum holding your hand or people assuming that you were together – but the confusion caused by his earlier confession was. It made your stomach churn all the way back to your apartment.

You just didn’t get it. He said he wasn’t interested in dating and yet you and him were doing almost everything a couple who was dating would do, except without the label. You knew he’d dated Suji and it didn’t end well – and you weren’t trying to be dismissive of all the emotional trauma caused by that relationship and all that had come after – but you had genuinely thought that he had moved on. He’d finally cut his ties with her, once and for all. He’d showcased signs of actually having feelings for you and even admitted that he’d actually thought you and him could have dated when you first met at the bar. Hell, he’d even kissed you on several occasions.

But he wasn’t interested in dating and, even though you knew that the current state of your friendship with Jaebum had its lines blurred by how far the two of you had gone with each other, you were suddenly even more confused about what you were doing. Was he just taking the chance – since you lived with each other – and doing whatever he wanted without worrying about any official statuses because he didn’t think this was a permanent thing? But then, if that’s the case, why did he say all of those things – why admit he’d thought of starting a relationship with you when you met? Why admit he’d been afraid you’d rip his heart out if he put it on the line?

Perhaps you were stupid for believing everything he’d told you – he was basically writing songs for a living, after all – but some of his statements didn’t coincide with the other ones, and you were simply—and yet, unexplainably—confused.

Meanwhile, Jaebum, as he walked next to you back to your apartment, noticed the clouded expression on your face and was able to realize that he was to blame for it. It was very obviously something that he’d said but he wasn’t sure what. He debated if holding your hand in front of Cassie was the right thing to do because that could have lead you to believe that he was hoping to make Suji jealous to get a reaction out of her when that couldn’t have been further from the truth. He just didn’t want to see her again and, alright, a small, very bitter part of him wanted to spite her -- he wanted her to know that he was happy without her.

But Jaebum wanted to believe that you understood that. That you believed he didn’t care about Suji anymore. So, it must have been something else that had brought upon your change in demeanor.

You didn’t understand what had happened there at the store and he didn’t, either because, after having learned how similar you were to each other, you could have never imagined you’d be able to misinterpret each other’s words in a way that put a pause on your developing—or… regressing—relationship.

chapter directory

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g0thb4rbie · 4 years

Text

@princessrabies , mind u half of this was written high and i didnt edit this . also dont steal it lol

{title}

the hours of knocking finally stopped but the migraine that eliza had was still raging. her phone was thrown across the room sadly still ringing. eliza had entertained a few toxic people in her life but none of them acted like casey. casey was a 3 week old fling who became severely attached.

*27 missed calls*

“answer me”

“answer or ill kill u”

“i kno where u live”

“this is torture”

“ill kill u bitch”

“how could u do this to me”

“god i fucking hate u”

“u know how much i loved u right”

“nobody will ever treat u better”

“u dont even deserve better”

“ur such a fucking whore i hate u”

“i have pics of u”

“ill show everybody”

eliza sat sobbing in the corner opposite of the device, letting the insults sit on the home screen. she’d heard it all before. he had nothing. she barely even kissed him let alone send him photos of herself. they talked romantically and hung out 3

times in total. she used to fall for it but after the second time she gave up believing anything casey said. her head was buried in her knees and her sobs echoed through the room.

“can you shut that fucking thing off?”

her roommate cherry was sitting in the living room watching tv. footsteps followed the path from the couch to eliza’s room. eliza looked teary eyed fearful of what was to happen. she couldn’t handle that much more emotional distress. if cherry yelled at her she didnt know what she would do. the door flung open and cherry stood calmly with a tub of ice cream held between her arm and side and a lighter in her other hand.

“is that casey” she slurred, her mouth filled with melting ice cream. cherry never had a good feeling about casey. she’s right about most people eliza talks to, saying they give her “bad vibes” or that they “seem weird and off. “ she claimed she was psychic but maybe its because most of the people eliza dates say weird or off shit within the first few minutes of meeting cherry. cherry always brought out the weird in people. she was the weird in people. she constantly spoke about the devil and cults; sometimes spoke about how cool it would be to have one of her own.

“follower or leader” she said, “im there for the ride. “

“yes...” eliza spoke between breaths.

“oh lord” cherry walked toward eliza and handed the tub with a spoon stuck in the ice cream down to her. “i’ll handle it”

cherry found her way over to the phone. buzzing less often with the same threats of exposing eliza. cherry picked it up and pushed her thumb on the home button. eliza and cherry decided that in case of emergency they should have each other’s passcodes.

“cherry don’t... please. you’ll make things worse”

cherry raised a joint to her mouth and lit it.

“shut up. everything will be fine. he needs to know his fuckin’ place” she spoke through clenched lips. cherry waited for the line to pick up while pulling smoke tricks. the smoke rose to the ceiling and the call ended. “oh so now you don’t have anything to say” she called again this time the rings ending after thirty seconds. “pussy...” she chuckled and padded towards eliza, still teary eyed but distracting herself with the ice cream rather than focusing of the situation at hand.

“did you seriously buy the neapolitan kind again?” eliza stabbed the spoon into the strawberry section and dug out a small piece.

“yes its good, suck my dick.” she retorted. sitting down next to eliza and taking another hit. “what’s he even doing? he was begging like a minute ago”

“let’s pray he gave up.”

“he shouldn’t get off the hook that easily!”

“no, but i should.” eliza reached over cherry for her phone and turned it off.

“he has to pay... somehow.”

“he is. he’s a lonely scumbag who jerks off to Instagram models. he’s not worth my time.”

cherry sighed, “i just think that we both deserve better. i’ve had to deal with that prick for far too long.” she pulled up Twitter and began scrolling.

“i don’t even know what i could do to him. he shouldn’t even matter. it was three weeks.”

“yea and the terrorist activity has been going on for what. a month? i’ve lost sleep over this fucking guy. im pissed.”

silence fell over the two as cherry finished smoking.

“im serious. you always leave me with the strawberry, i dont fucking like it. just buy-“

“shhhhhhh, this might make you feel more empowered. check out eileen wuornos here. “

“who?” eliza turned her head.

“shut up, look.” cherry turned her screen to show a news headline that read: LOCAL WOMAN USES “DEVIL MAGIC” TO PUT HITS OUT ON ABUSIVE EX-LOVERS.

“Ha, that’s what they get.” Eliza scoffed and looked back at her lap.

“Wouldn’t that be so cool?”

“What, giving our souls to the literal Devil himself?”

“Well no, not the part,” Cherry looked off to the side in annoyance, “but the idea of getting anything you wanted, if you just chanted a few words and drew a little blood.”

“I would love to be invisible and never ever have to deal with being weak again.”

“Weak? You’re not weak.” Cherry’s brow furrowed.

“Yes, I am. I can’t even deal with this stupid guy.” Eliza dropped the spoon and put her hands on her face muffle her cries.

“I’ve dealt with guys like this before. I’ve done the same shit you do. You’re not weak.” Cherry sat on her knees and rubbed a comforting hand on Eliza’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s watch this video of that lady. I bet she sounds crazy! Crazy like ‘Oh fuck, you aren’t going to prison but you’re going somewhere for a long time.’ Cherry played the video as Eliza sat the tub next to her and rested her chin on her knees.

“So... May I ask? Why did you do this?” A T.V doctor spoke through a grey mustache. He wasn’t required to do anything but make her a laughing stock. She sat in front of him with long stringy hair, sunken eyes, and pale skin. She looked crazy but refer to his job description to figure out why.

“I felt compelled to the dark side of magic. Someone through the mirror called to me, asked me what my desires were. I told them simply and they said that for a price. I could be an elite. “ Her voiced was calm and pitched down. Her dark eyes stared at the camera as the last words trickled out of her mouth.

“What did you pay?” He watched her intently; waiting for her to jump at him or exorcise herself *LIVE ON CAMERA!!!!*

“The only money that matters... My soul...” She leaned forward, now glaring at the doctor.

“Right... So what did these men do?” He looked away.

“Well, they cheated, lied, stalked, beat and revealed pictures of me nehkid. “ Her southern accent poked through.

“You mean, naked?” The doctor dismissed it as soon as her asked, “And how do you contact those in the mirror, as you said?”

“I lit a few candles, said a few words, drew a little blood and asked for what I wanted.”

“Did you want them dead, initially?”

“No, I wanted them to feel as hurt as I felt when they did all that stuff.”

“And where did you find this... this chant?”

“Well the internet, obviously.” She rolled her eyes as the clip came to an end.

Cherry pulled her phone back closer to her and began looking for “Satanic rituals” as Eliza stared in thought of what she just viewed.

A small gasp left Cherry, “Eliza.”

“What?”

Cherry clicked a link and showed Eliza a website filled with gothic and bloody font and pictures of goth girls in corsets. “I know exactly what we’re doing tonight.”

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bapyess1r · 4 years

Text

Amphetamine

WARNINGS: drunken behavior, cursing, age difference, use of substance, slightly heated

CHAPTER 4

Talia’s POV

I left the house very excited to see my best friend. I had so much to tell her, so much to show her, and so little time to do it. I drove myself to the airport almost ready to hope out of my seat. These were the feelings my therapist once told me to savor. I took a deep breath and let the good feeling warm throughout my chest, gripping my steering wheel as I turned into the pickup lane. I parked the car, not bothering to turn the car off and climbed my car to sit on the roof, hoping to spot my tiny friend better. And in a matter of minutes, there she was carrying her bright purple suitcase, a jacket in her arms. She spotted me and screamed her head off, scuttling toward me with her arms wide open. I hopped off the car and ran to squeeze her tightly. Suddenly, I felt whole again. “Oh fraaaand! I missed you!” She squealed, brushing her long black hair off of her face. “I can’t believe it’s only been a month!”

“I know! Time flies. How’re the boys?” I asked, grabbing her suitcase and putting it in the backseat. Tulio and Jay were two other friends I was very close with in New York. The four of us were inseparable in school. There was never a bad moment with them.

“Tulio is currently a barista and freelancing. Jay is a voice actor now. He’s working on a kids show that's coming out soon.” She informed me as she got in the car, buckling her seatbelt. “Is the ABC still open? I wanna get us a bottle of something good!” She cheesed, nodding her head suggestively. It wasn’t too late so we had time to stop by.

While I drove, I noticed the sky growing darker and dark as Anna told me all about what was going on back home. She didn’t miss a single detail. And our behavior around each other didn’t change. Still horrible, still encouraging each other’s bad behavior, still laughing at dumb people doing dumb shit. We stopped by her hotel to put her suitcase and things in her room. “So what am I walkin’ into with this whole block party deal?” She asked me as we walked the hallway and waited for the elevator's arrival. I don’t know why but my stomach flipped and my mind immediately went to Sam. I blushed and covered my face, laughing away my nerves. Her eyes widened as she playfully and repeatedly hit my arm. She knew me all too well. “Biiiiiitch! Who is he?!” I took a deep breath and waited to board the elevator before answering.

“His name is Sam.”

“Oh, Sam…” she called dramatically clutching her chest, making me laugh. I pushed her off me and hid my face again.

“DILF vibes.” I groaned.

“Oooo an older gentleman! Okaaay! Okay sis!” She hyped me up to the best of her abilities. As the short elevator ride came to an end, I began fidgeting around for my cigarettes as we walked toward the parking lot. “Does he know you like him?” She pried.

“I fear he has an inkling…” I answered scrunching my face. I hadn’t even admitted to myself that I was into and now I was saying it out loud.

“Then make it a big splotch of ink, bitch! Tell him! Let it be known!” She said enthusiastically, throwing her arms all over the place. I laughed as I attempted to light my cigarette.

“He plays in the band I told you about…”

“Is he the guy that wasn’t there when you started playing with them?” I nodded.

“He plays guitar and he sings and even though haven’t heard it my god am I ready to but I’m so NERVOUS.” I blurted out before taking a long drag. “Fuck I need a drink…” That’s when she boldly grabbed my breast.

“Shit, bitch, I forgot the champagne!” She said and I cackled. “I’ll be right back!” She ran off performing her signature grandma speed walk.

“Alright. I’ll be here.” I said unlocking the car doors, sitting sideways in the driver’s seat. I looked up at the stars beginning to come through the now black sky. I huffed wondering what I was gonna do about Sam. There was no way my Godfather would let that slide. Not that it mattered to me. I was a grown woman. I did as I pleased. That’s when I felt the buzz in my back pocket. It was Marcel.

Marcel: Where are you? We’re about to start playing and Sam is looking like a nervous puppy

I felt a smile crack on my face as I read the last line. I couldn’t imagine Sam acting like everything wasn’t cool. He seemed so put together to me. I texted back, letting my cigarette hang from my lips.

Me: Im on my way!! I’ll be there soon. Good luck !

If anything, it was good that we’d show up late. Sam could sing without being worried about my opinion and I’d see him full force when I get there. “He’ll be alright.” I said aloud to myself as Anna returned, drinking said bottle already. She pouted as she looked at my face and held the bottle out to me.

“Take a sip. We’ll finish it before we go watch the band. That way you won’t be so nervous to see him! Also you’re gonna have to point him out to me. I’m ready to see this man.” She said, rounding the car to hop into her seat. I looked at the bottle and took a big but quick sip before turning into my seat correctly and giving her the bottle back. I slammed the car door and off we went to the block party.

By the time we arrived into the neighborhood, people were out dancing already, their children playing in the nearby park. I noticed the block was full of cars so I just pulled behind one and parked with a large sigh. I could hear the band playing already and I instantly became anxious. Anxious to see Sam, to hear him sing, to watch him play, to just be in his vicinity. I let out a loud frustrating grunt and my friend gave me the biggest smile. “Oh my god you really are nervous! Here! Drink bitch.” She told me, passing the bottle and almost dropping it. She was definitely tipsy. I giggled and actually relaxed enough to start drinking. “Is there anything else to drinky drink at this shindig?”

“The band bought plenty.” I said before taking a long sip. The beverage warmed my chest up so much I took off my tye dye shirt and tossed it in the back. I was just gonna go with the bralette from the combination of alcohol and Florida heat. I shook every part of my body with a random sound to release the tension that had been building, fluffing my hair as I did.

“That’s right, bitch. I see you. Get cute, sis.” She said aggressively sipping the champagne.

“Let’s do this…” I said, opening the door and slamming it shut.

Anna leaned over the car to pass me the bottle again and grabbed my hand, beginning to dance her way to the block party with a bright smile. Now that I was out of the car, I could hear the music more clearly. And even more so, closer we got to the party. Sam’s voice coming through strong and powerful as they performed Whisper to a Scream by the Icicle Works, sending shivers up my spine. I tried to move my feet to the music but I knew as soon as I laid eyes on him, it was over for me. The street became lined with tiki lights and string lights in the shape of pineapples. Somehow, the smell of wood for the bonfire being burned already comforted me. When we reached the end of the street where the band was, my breath was taken away. He stood front and center, clad in a tight white v neck, black shirt rolled to expose his strong forearms, veins bulging out from playing, and the best fitting jeans paired with his usual dirty boots. His hair was falling out of place from performing passionately, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. Instinctively, I reached out for Anna and took an extended sip of champagne as I watched him. She looked at me with wide eyes and laughed. “Woo bitch…” I sighed, nearly shaking from how good he looked. “The one singing…”

“Sam?!” She exclaimed, running deeper into the crowd of drunk people dancing to get a better look, forgetting to let go of me. She dragged me right in front of him. And at the right moment he looked up and locked eyes with me. And almost like on the spot he began singing to me. I swallowed hard as he sent me a brief smile and wink. I could see his shoulders visibly dropping and loosening up. He was relaxing. Which was more than I could say for myself. “That’s Sam? He’s hot! Hell yes. You needed to fuck him like… yesterday.”

“Bitch I met him yesterday!”

“Your point?” She said putting a hand on her hip with a sassy expression.

“I mean… because he’s older I’m sure he’s more old school about that stuff.”

“I never try to understand what goes on in a man's head but that man wants to fuck. And real bad.” She said, reassuring me also tipping the bottle near my mouth upwards to make me drink. During the break in the song, Sam noticed the situation and smirked a bit trying to control his laughter onstage.

Throughout the night, Anna and I managed to find more booze. Boy….the trouble. We were now, drunk off our asses, shaking our hips and bobbing our heads to the music. Between songs, Sam would sip on a glass or three of scotch, watching me with intent and a hint of lust. The sexual tension was thick enough to cut with a butter knife. My friend would bring me back to earth sometimes when I was on another planet lost in this man’s performance. When his song was over, everyone clapped and he took his swig of scotch again. He waved everyone’s applause down enough for him to speak. “So… some of you know that we have recently acquired some new vocals for the band.” He began. I knew where this was going and I wasn’t prepared for it at all. Anna looked at me and snatched my beer out of my hands, pushing me forward. “My uh…. my guilty conscience is kickin in and I have to say it wouldn’t be fair if she didn’t get to sing a little something tonight. Would you guys be down for that?” And the neighbors cheered.

‘Well shit…’ I thought.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for our new vocalist Talia Aaron, everybody.” He said easing off the mic and clapping. The band hollered and encouraged the situation. With all the strength I had, I tried my best not to fall or trip over the wiring as I approached the stage. The band leaned in listening for my split second song selection. “Nice of you to join us.” He smirked before leaning in and whispering in my ear. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours.” I was absolutely shaking as I tried to think of a song. Not from stage fright but literally just smelling the cologne Sam wore. I had not a clue what to sing until Marcel caught my attention. He threw me that bright smile and winked. I knew exactly what he wanted me to sing. I nodded.

“Black Velvet…”

“Great choice.” Sam winked and it shot right through my heart.

“Here’s to hoping I don’t fuck this up!” I said stealing Sam’s glass and finishing it for him in one gulp. He blinked in surprise and laughed to himself.

“You got this Tali!!!!” I saw Anna yell and my neighbors all cheered. I smirked, adjusting the stand and bringing the mic to my lips with a nervous smile. With a nod of the head, Sam kicked us off with that classic riff and Marcel’s bass line sat right where it needed in me.

“Ok y’all. I hope you don’t mind if I just…. Feel this liquor for a minute…” I said softly as the opening of the song played, tapping my foot and rolling my body to the beat.

“Take yo time girl!” My friend cheered as I played with my hair, feeling my oats and finding that comfort zone. That’s when I began to sing. The moment I opened my mouth, I could see Sam staring at me in my peripheral. I was shaking my hips slowly to the music, letting my body sing the song as well, easing into every word and belting out every note; the raspiness in my voice adding a soulful tone to each verse. I stroked the stand, somewhat using it as a pole. And the entire time, his eyes never left my body. It was a very sensual performance even though I didn’t mean it to be. That was the liquor talking. The neighbors cheered and the band performed two more songs after me before joining the block party themselves.

After receiving praise from the drunk older women (all of which were definitely trying to get into bed with him), Sam locked eyes with me as he grabbed a beer from the cooler and nodded towards our designated smoking spot. I grabbed Anna by the wrist and brought her forehead to mine. “He’s calling me over, what do I do?!” I panicked and she repeatedly hit my arms, squealing as she turned me around.

“Go get your man, bitch! Go! Go, go!” She said, suddenly catching Marcel’s eyes. He winked at her and she gave me a mischievous smile. “I think I found a boo, too….” she said, waving at him as I grinned, heading towards the cooler to grab a beer myself and following Sam’s trail.

The docks were dark and the street lamp nearby hadn’t turned on yet. All I could see was his tall figure in the moonlight, smoke dancing in the air around him. Nervously, I pulled out my source of nicotine and walked over to him, my heeled boots making a sound that stood out from the sounds of nature. He turned to look at me as I eased up next to his large frame.

“You didn’t play any Billy Idol!” I said poking him in his strong chest. He rubbed the spot with a laugh.

“Actually I did. You were late.” He said with a lopsided smirk.

“I wouldn’t have been drunk enough anyway. Right now though?! I’m extra toasted.” I chuckled trying everything in me to not be that drunk girl randomly kisses someone. But boy was he making it hard for me.

“Oh yeah? Started early, I see. I’m getting there. But just a warning:” he leaned down to my level, our noses almost touching. “You might be in trouble.” He took a drag of his cigarette and a sip of his beer, returning his gaze to the moonlit waters. ‘Fuck…’ I thought, biting my lip. “What did you think of the show?” He asked me.

“You were amazing!” I blurted almost immediately, taking a sip of beer and pulling on my own cigarette to hide my eagerness but I don’t think it worked. He smiled to himself and I stood in silence for a moment. “How’d I do?” I was almost afraid to ask.

“It was uh… very sexy… if I may say so myself.” He said, his eyes never leaving the water. “I love your voice. Marcel made the right call adding you.”

With that, we continued to talk about upcoming rehearsals and how it would work with my job. He understood that as he had to take off often for his job. We somehow ended up not leaving each other’s side all night and getting drunk together with the band and my best friend. We danced and played field games, ate food. You know, wholesome shit. As the block party came to a close, we still didn’t wanna end the night. So we moved the party to Sam’s, just us. Anna was in a corner with Marcel as he flirted with her, showing her how to play bass. She shot me a fangirl smile and I grinned at her from across the room, sitting on the kitchen counter as Sam leaned on the other opposite of me. We had all gone from drinking beer to drinking whiskey and this cup was sending me over the edge. I felt loose and not as uptight as normal. I crossed my legs and rested myself on the bar behind me, looking into his hazel eyes as he spoke to me about his adventures with his brother and family. I couldn’t believe he really went to all of these places and almost died every time. It sounded so exhilarating. And for a moment, he grew silent, his eyes running up and down my figure as I sipped on my Jim Beam and soda. “What?” I asked nervously, writhing under his strong gaze. He walked over and uncrossed my legs so that he could stand between them. He stared into my eyes as he moved a strand of hair from my face.

“You look so good…” he mewed, his forehead resting on mine now as he cupped my face with a large, calloused hand. I leaned into as his thumb ran across my lower lip. “God, I could kiss you right now…”

“Why don’t you?” I responded almost instantly, caught up in the tension of what was happening between us.

“Don’t tempt me, little girl.” He said, pulling me closer by the back of my leg, gripping it for dear life. I took a long sip of my drink, letting the ice sit on my lips for a while before wrapping my arms around his neck and grazing them over his own. The coldness against his warm lips made him shudder as my free hand played in his hair. I let my tongue dart across his lips, sending him over the edge enough to wrap his arms firmly around my waist, pressing his lips to mine. He moved slowly against me, both of us heavy breathing over each other. My fingers graced the tattoo on his neck and he took a deep breath, deepening the kiss. He moved his lips to my jawline, then to my ear. I giggled flirtatiously as I his lips travelled to my chest and back up again to the other side. I could feel him smile against my neck as he paid extra attention there, his hands roaming my thighs, hips, and back. As I bit his lip, he laughed nervously and pulled away. I was taken aback.

“Did I do something?” I asked, suddenly panicking. He placed a hand on my cheek and gently stroked my skin.

“God, no! That was… incredible. I just… I don’t wanna hurt you…” He said in a whispery tone as a slow tune played in the background. “And it’s so soon. I wanna make sure this is what you want first.” He was very considerate of me. I took a deep breath and nodded. He was right. We had only just met 24 hours ago and here we were making out like we’d known each other forever.

“We’ll work on it.” I said biting my lip. He gave a low frustrated growl before kissing me once more.

“Man, I like kissing you though…” he chuckled before kissing me again.

Eventually, the night did have to come to an end. I had taken off my heels and leaned on my friend to walk home, Sam trailing us to make sure nothing happened to either of us. As we made it to the front door, I unlocked it and sent my friend to my room. There was no way I was driving tonight. I turned to look at Sam in the doorway as my friend crawled the stairs. “Drink some water and eat something before bed. That way you won’t wake up with a hangover.”

“This isn’t my first drunk night, Mr. Drake.” I said rather loudly. It was like I had cotton stuck in my ears, everything was so quiet now. He chuckled at my current drunken state and leaned against the wall. He bent his head down, grabbing my waist with a single hand and guided me to kiss him for a final time tonight. It was sweet and passionate.

“Goodnight, princess.” He said lowly, kissing my cheek before walking across the street to his own home. I smirked as I drunkenly stared at his ass in those jeans, nodding in satisfaction as I turned to close the door and join my friend for the night.

#samuel drake #sam drake #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted x reader #sam drake x reader smut #uncharted 4 #uncharted smut #uncharted #samuel drake x reader

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fanficsrusz · 5 years

Text

My collection - part three John wick AU

A/n: ahhh the calm before the storm. *evil laugh* im also going to start work on a masterlist soon 👍

Masterlist

________________________________________The downpour had stopped but y/n could still smell the rain in the air as she made her way out of the house and towards college. As she walked down the driveway where her car should be, she pulled out her phone and began to make the calls needed in order to get her car fixed.

Finishing the call quickly, she finally looked up and across the street. Johns car was not in the driveway and y/n relaxed her shoulders as chances of seeing him in the early morning reduced. She didn't care where he was and had no intention of finding out and so began the walk towards college taking in the scenery around her, letting all her stress melt away.

Arriving at college she saw the mechanic at her car already at work and jogged over to him. He was an elderly gentlemen but he had a soft face, a face that held wisdom and stories of his past experiences. He reminded her of her father. "hi. Hows shes doing" y/n beamed referring to the car. The mechanic stood up and gave her a puzzled look. "miss have you been playing with the car?" the man gave her a concerned look and y/n was confused. "what? No? Why would i play with it?" she asked peering over his shoulder to look at the cars inside. The mechanic looked back to the car before replying "well you see these wires have been pulled out quite forcefully. This was no accident and honestly ive only ever seen this one other time and that was at a crime scene" the mechanic half joked and y/n looked at the wires in his hand and just stood there as her thoughts raced "can you fix it?" y/n asked "miss i can fix just about anything" the guy chuckled but was met with silence. "good. I'm going to be in there so just call when you're done" she pointed to the building "will do" the old man said resuming his work once again.

Making her way into the school she walked into the reception office, she approached the young lady sitting at the desk. "hi. My name is y/n and i was just wondering if you have CCTV in the car park? You see my car was vandalised yesterday and i just want to see if they were caught on camera" the girl looked up at y/n and smiled kindly. "sure. I'll just get the security guard for you" and with that the girl left the room before returning moments later with a tall man who looked like he could work for the mafia with how big his muscles were. "follow me" the security guard said and led her into a small room at the back before sitting down at various monitors. He began to press random buttons before he stopped. The screen played back the scenes of yesterday and y/n watched herself pull into the carpark and get out. The sense of deja vu hit hard. The video continued playing as he slowly fast forwarded showing various people walking about but that's when the screen went black. "what happened?" y/n asked "I don't know" the guard began to click around the screen "its as if someone has deleted the footage" he stopped "i'm sorry i can't help you". Y/n sighed and grabbed her head "it's fine thank you for trying" and began to walk out. 'What the hell was going on?' y/n thought as she walked slowly down the hall towards the library.

Sitting down at one of the desks y/n rummaged through her bag to find her planner but couldn't find it she stopped rummaging through her bag, trying to remember where she had left it. "i believe you are looking for this" the voice said quietly and the book was held in front of her. Y/n looked up and there stood Dr. Wick im one of his various suits, a smirk tugging at his lips. Y/n had begun to hate his face and how he always seemed to know where she was and what she was doing but she couldn't bring herself to be rude. "thank you" y/n muttered before attempting to grab the book from his hand before it was suddenly pulled away. "you know you should really take better care of your things. Who knows what could happen to the things you love or whose hands they could fall into." there was a sinister undertone to his voice which y/n picked up. It was as if he was talking about something else. "Joh…. Dr Wick can i please have my planner back i've got work to do" john turned around and stood in front of her "of course you can my dear" and john handed her the book, the word 'dear' lingering in y/ns ears a little to long making her feel queasy.

As y/n took the book from him, she accidentally grazed his hand with hers and john's eyes went wide as if she had just told him the best news in the world. John walked out the library without another word. 'what the hell is up with that guy' y/n pondered on the though trying to decode his words and actions before her attention was pulled to a group of guys walking into the library. She recognised them, they were tom's friends. She waited as the group sat down but there was no tom. She slowly stood up to make her way towards them to find out where tom was but stopped when a thought entered her head 'you know what, no. He obviously doesn't care or he wouldn't of left' and with that y/n sat down and began working on various assignments.

The school day ended with not much else happening apart from the most uncomfortable lesson with Dr. Wick which was spent with him staring at y/n at every opportunity he had. It was as if he was taking in every detail of the girl. Y/n shuddered at the thought of John's eyes on her every movement as she made her way over to her car. There was a little note on the windscreen. 'your car is fixed. Please come in store or pay online.' y/n smiled and put the note in her pocket before driving home making a mental note about making sure to pay later on.

Pulling into the driveway she noticed that John's car was still not there. She began to gather her things from the seat next to her but her planner caught her attention. On the back of the book was a small red stain. She brought it closer to her face for inspection. Was it juice? Or…… "omg" y/n breathed out. Blood. A sudden knocking at the car window caused y/n to jump and hit her head on the roof. She looked over as she held her head and saw an old man stood there. She climbed out of the car. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you," he said, "no it's fine" y/n replied rubbing the spot she hit, a nice bruise forming "can I help you?" she replied standing up straight. "yes. My name is lucas im the landlord. My grandson tom said he was coming here last night but he never returned and he didn't show up for school. Have you seen him" the man was obviously panicking. y/n felt guilt shoot through her as she began to tell him the events of last night. " yhh tom came here and we watched a movie together before falling asleep but he was gone when I woke up. I assumed he went home". The man looked down as he breathed heavily. "ok thank you. Im going to have to report him missing." and just like that the man walked off down the street.

Y/n began to worry as she stood there. What could have happened to him? Where could he have gone?. The roar of the familiar mustang broke her train of thought and john pulled into the driveway before getting out. He had dirt and bruises all over his face and was walking with a limp. It looked like he had gone 50 rounds with a boxer. As john caught her gaze he faced her completely and waved. Y/n ignored him and ran inside the house making sure to lock the door behind her. She looked through the spy whole and saw him stand there for a few seconds before making his way inside. She sighed a sign if relieve. She did not want to talk to him if she could avoid it. The weird vibe he emitted only got stronger with each passing moment and it was as if she was the only one who noticed the mans odd behaviour.

Y/n shook her head before beginning to go about her nightly routine.

A few hours later the sky was dark and y/n was sat in front of the TV with a bowl of pasta in hand ready to drown herself in friday night tv. She changed the channel to the news and was greeted with a picture of toms face. She put the bowl down next to her and proceeded to turn the volume up as the news presenter continued her story.

"....... Local student Tom Bishop has been reported missing after failing to return home after visiting a friend……" that last bit made y/n feel so guilty and she held her face in her hands. ".... This report comes after 4 young women went missing less that 20 miles away." y/n looked up at the 4 pictures displayed on the screen. Each of them looked similar in appearance and similar to y/n but she didn't really take much notice of the pictures, only focusing on the fact that Tom was missing and she couldn't help but feel responsible. "... It is not yet known if the cases are linked, however, Police are warning people to lock doors and windows and be careful. If you have any information about any of the people shown tonight, please contact the police. The weather for this…..". Y/n turnt the tv off and stood up just as she heard a noise come from across the street and there stood john pulling random things out of his trunk. Y/n moved closer to the window to get a better look. Her eyes went wide. The jacket tom was wearing when they first met was in his hands. Y/n moved back slightly as john turned around and he saw her. She was sure he had a dark red stain down his normally pristine shirt. He smirked and Y/n quickly pulled the curtains closed in an attempt to look as if she saw nothing.

Closing her eyes she tried to clear her mind. "im being stupid. Why would he have toms jacket?" y/n opened her eyes again looking at the clock in the room. It clocks hand showed 11pm. Y/n had been awake for so long. "im just seeing things. Im just tired. " y/n laughed at the attempts to put a logic explanation to what she saw "yepp just seeing things". Y/n made her way up to her room and got into bed. As she laid down her brain wouldn't let her sleep. Eventhough y/n had tried to convince herself otherwise she knew what she saw and what she had to do. With that thought she leant over and grabbed her phone. She began to dial 911 and went to press the call button but stopped. Did she really want to do this? What if the man was innocent? "no" she said "if the man is innocent, the police will find nothing." she said before pressing the call button.

"911 whats your emergency" the operator said

"hi i think i have some information about the Tom Bishop case."

"please hold" and with that y/n was transferred to a detective on the case and began to describe what she saw that night. "ok thank you miss. May I have your name?" the detective said. "um can I keep this as an anonymous tip?" she asked twiddling with her blanket as a way to comfort herself. "sure" the detective said a smile evident on his face "thank you for your help" and he hung up.

Y/n sighed and laid back down closing her eyes.

She didn't know how or why but John Wick had something to do with Toms disappearance.

Tbc

_________________________________________

A/n: so part three is over and im excite to see what you all think of this chapter because the shit is about to hit the fan.

Tag list :

@homesoutofhuman

@softwhispers

@lushboy148

@dorinasfavs

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unofficialkfamtranscripts · 4 years

Text

King Falls AM - Episode Six: King of King Falls

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Summary: July 15, 2015 - In an effort to learn more about his new hometown, Sammy books an interview with author and King Falls historian, Howard Ford Beauregard III, however Ben questions Sammy's intentions as well as Beauregard's facts.

[Podcast intro music]

[jazzy church organ music]

Deacon Reggie Back by popula’ deman’ from tha Lawd On High, tha King Falls Stompin’ Out Tha Devil Revival will be extended two extra Sundays. Join us for a fi’th consecutive week as Reverend Xavier “Get Right With God!” Hawthorne leads the King Falls faithful, the most turnt up celebration of tha year! Come raise your haaands to the skyy an’ annoint the son o’ God! Tha Holy Spirit will be so strong, your granny bound to get ratched!

Reverend Hawthorne God is’a Good. God is’a GreaT-a. Satan is on your back because he likes ta haTe-a. Shake ‘im off for Jesus! Just shake him off! Before it is too late! Glory, Glory Hallelujah!

Deacon Reggie Come celebrate with the most highly favored congregation in town! Just outside the city limits, off’a Route 72 and MLK. (That’s Mary-Lou Kilpatrick Drive for those coming out o’ town.) [rushed disclaimer] King Falls Stompin’ Out the Devil Revival is a trademark of Right With God Productions, all use and reproductions must have written consent from Reverend Hawthorne, or the Lord above. To God be the Glory.

[KFAM intro music]

Ben [in bg] I don’t want to do this!

Sammy And we’re back! You’re listening to King Falls AM, that’s 660 on the radio dial, and that was a perturbed Ben Arnold. We got a packed show for you this evening. We have a special guest, in the house—

Ben Sorry, folks!

Sammy What are you so fired up about, Ben?

Ben You know.

Sammy Well, our dear listeners don’t know, and we’ve got a few minutes before—

Ben B-before we talk to your guest.

Sammy Our guest.

Ben Oh, there’s no wa— I would never book that guy in a thousand years. He’s all yours.

Sammy [pleading] Ben.

Ben It’s just ridiculous! If you wanna make fun of me, do it off the air! This, is not cool.

Sammy I’m not making fun! Listen folks, I did a little research—

Ben On his own.

Sammy On my own, about King Falls history- and moreso, its history with the paranormal! So I go out of my way to book a guest that is an expert in this field!

Ben HOH! BULL!

Sammy And now Ben thinks I’m just messing with him when actually I’m just trying to get a better grasp on the supernatural phenomenon that happens in our beautiful town!

Ben [quickly] You never believe it when it happens on air, why would you bring- this guy in. You’re- you’re trying to break him. Which should be easy since he’s a—

Sammy I’m serious! I’m just trying to get a better understanding of what we’ve been dealing with the last few months, Ben. And this guy, our guest, has written a book about just that!

Ben It’s an e-book, Sammy. My mother can publish an e-book. He’s a whack job.

Sammy Why are you acting like he’s not sitting right in front of us?

Ben Oh, you’ll see.

Beauregard [HFB3 has a “High Class-Better Than You” drawl at all times] “Whack job”? You must be speaking of the 1957 3rd Street Massacre— or your journalistic career.

Sammy Uh, good evening sir. Thanks for making it down to the station tonight.

Beauregard [insincerely] Charmed.

Sammy Ladies and gentlemen, we’re being joined by- an author—

Ben [cutting in] E-book.

Sammy —and King Falls paranormal expert—

Ben Self-proclaimed.

Sammy —Mr. Howard Ford Beauregard.

Beauregard The third.

Sammy Of course. Howard Ford Beauregard the Third. How are you doing this evening, Howard?

Beauregard Mr. Beauregard. And as the common folk call it: I’m swell.

Ben *clears throat* So, Mr. Beauretar[sic]—

Beauregard Is your man speaking to me, Mr. Stevens?

Sammy [confused] No— Man?… Ben?

Beauregard You shan’t be too careful these days.

Sammy So, Mr. Beauregard. How did you come to be an expert in the paranormal and supernatural aspects of King Falls?

Ben [sounds like someone whose point is about to be proved] This should be good!

Beauregard As well you know, my family settled this town of King Falls many many moons ago, so its lineage is pure and unfiltered through my veins. My family has witnessed it all and, of course, that has been passed to me and now, through my memoir, passed down to you.

Ben *laughs* Right.

Beauregard May you ask your manservant to please hold his tongue as the adults speak?

Sammy Excuse me?

Ben Sorry! Beauregard. A-also, uh, in this century, where we live, I’m the co-host of this show.

Beauregard [condescendingly] How splendid. Your mother must be co-proud of you. Mm?

Sammy Okay. To make a U-turn back to the original point, you were saying—

Beauregard Yes. We founded this city. We know every minute detail of its hellish existence. Especially when it comes to the oft spoken about ghouls, goblins, and extraordinary happenings we are known for.

Ben [offended] King Falls is a magnificent town. There is nothing “hellish” about it.

Beauregard You’re. Welcome.

Sammy So, it is true that one could say you are a self-proclaimed expert in these matters.

Beauregard The same one might say that you are a good radio host, but… doubtful.

Ben *exasperated sigh*

Sammy Alright let’s take some callers, shall we?

Beauregard [insincerely] What fun. I love hearing from the lowlies.

Ben [muttered]Jesus— Line 3.

Sammy Good evening, you’re on King Falls AM with Howard Ford—

Ron Yeah yeah, Sammy, let me just get right down to business. First off, am I live right now?

Ben Double live gonzo, Ron!

Sammy Ron Begley, from Begley’s Bait Shop, ladies and gentlemen. What’s goin’ on, sir?

Ron Howdy boys. [angrily] But seriously this message right here is for you so-and-sos that have been comin’ down to the lake, every damn night since this tournament, lookin’ to poach on Kingsie.

Sammy Wait a second. People are attacking Kingsie?

Ron They’re tryin’.

Ben Why?

Ron I assume it’s a bunch of hillbilly heroes tryna come serve up a side of podunk justice on our majestic lake creature for the John Doe. However, it’s a damn fact now that Kingsie, who wouldn’t hurt a damn fly, had f[bleep]kall to do with that body at the Bass Tourney. But these damn perpetrators need to listen and stop comin’ on my land and into the lake with malice in mind. Lake Hatchenhaw is a place of serenity, peace and fishing, you damn fools.

Ben [fiercely] Kingsie is a King Falls treasure.

Beauregard If I believed in lake lizards living in a water puddle I call a lake—

Ron I’m sorry? Just who the f[bleep]k are you, you hoity-toity—

Beauregard Aww, the salty tongue of the smartest man in the trailer park. I do not answer to your kind.

Ron [aggressively] Son, I could get from my lake house to the top of that mountain in about 22 minutes, so you best get your gazelles on and start putting pads to pavement. You pillow bitin’ son of a b[bleep].

[click, dial tone]

Ben Kingsie is a fact, Mr. Beauregard, unlike a great deal of what you have listed in your… “book.”

Beauregard I’ll bite. What is fiction in my memoir?

Ben Sammy? Please. [“let me tear this guy apart”]

Sammy [conceding] We’re all about the facts here on King Falls AM, Ben.

Ben [rapid and eager] Chapter 2, “Smokey and the Banshee.” Hate to break it to you? but there certainly isn’t an apparition driving a “ghostly Trans-Am through town square” late night every third Sunday.

Beauregard Says you.

Sammy Says facts.

Ben Chapter 5, “Bombing Range Road Rage” you mentioned General Abilene here, saying he goes out of his way to spook people on old Bombing Range Road.

Beauregard Your point? If you have one.

Ben Indeed I do! Everyone, and I mean everyone, knows that the general is seen in Sweetzer Forest. Lights emanate from Bombing Range Road. Possible UFO activity. All of that unrelated to Abilene.

Beauregard [laughingly] Sweetzer Forest? Hah! Imbecile.

Ben [getting increasingly worked up again] And furthermore, what’s this baloney about there not being an ancient burial ground under where your family built its textile factory? And you know what? let’s just come out and say it: Why has no one in the town ever seen you in the daylight?

Beauregard We have gone on record! time and time again. There is not now nor has there… ever been an “ancient Indian burial ground.” There have been… no disturbances either. I will not tolerate any more of this tomfoolery. And furthermore! not that it’s any of your business, but as far as my complexion is concerned, I have… an aversion towards the sun! I tend to do my deals and business… in the night-time hours! You might even call me… nocturnal.

Sammy Riiight… Nocturnal. Okay. Moving forw—

Ben It’s a well known fact that your family bought that land at a steal. And it was so “reasonably priced”? because it was on the ancient burial ground of the Hatchenhaw Indians.That said, there are sightings all the time- hell, there are videos of the ghosts trying to scalp your employees during work!

Beauregard Hogwash!

Sammy Y’know, I’ve seen it with my own eyes, I think. Ben pulled up one of the YouTube videos a while back and- I’m usually skeptical but I saw—

Beauregard Graphics and special effects or what-have-you! I’ll have the two of you know I did not come on this show to be mocked. One more retort from you valley-dwellers and I’ll have you expelled from the city limits. Mayor Grisham is a close ally, so tread trepidously.[sic]

Ben Bring it.

Sammy Whoa whoa whoa! everybody, let’s just relax. This is a conversation, Mr. Beauregard. Ben here is our station’s foremost expert on King Falls history, sir. It just seems like maybe the facts and your book’s stories aren’t exactly jiving.

Beauregard Let me be quite clear, this is my last warning. If you speak ill of myself or my family one more time, I will crush you. Your livelihoods depend on this fact.

Sammy Come on.

Ben [sarcastically] Oh I’d never speak badly about your family. They had the good sense to die before you turned into this joke, bringing down their hard earned reputations.

Beauregard Fire this insolent manchild at once. He’s nothing more than Channel 13 leftovers.

Ben I… B-but I—

Beauregard Aww. Did I touch a nerve Benny? Dispute this fact to all five of your listeners. Channel 13- a respectable organization- rejected you not one, not two, but three separate occasions. You working class cretin.

Sammy [awkwardly] I think maybe we should wrap this up.

Ben No wait. Sammy, I’m gonna use a lifeline. Phone a friend?[1] and ruin this douche.

[phone ringing]

Emily [sleepily] Hello?

Ben Hi! Emily.

Emily [suddenly more awake] Ben? Everything okay? It’s pretty late.

Ben It’s- it’s okay now that you’re on the phone. *shy, awkward laugh* You’re live by the way.

Emily *giggles* Ben! Hi Sammy! Hi King Falls.

Ben The lovely and knowledgeable King Falls Librarian, Emily Potter, everyone.

Beauregard The library? They can’t even keep my memoir in stock. What do you think about that?

Sammy [quietly] I don’t think that’s how e-books work.

Ben Hey! Miss Potter is trying to speak, Beauregard? Emily, can you… shed some light on a certain topic for everyone out there listening? All five of them.

Emily Yes. Anything for you and Sammy.

Ben We have… Howard Beauregard on the phone.

Emily Funny enough, I just finished your book, Mr. Beauregard. “King of King Falls”?

Beauregard Alas, finally someone with good sense and better taste.

Ben I’m glad you brought that up, Emily! Can you fill the listeners in on the history of the King Falls Library- which, Mr. Beauregard discusses in chapter 15 of his e-book. Did you- find any… discrepancies?

Emily Sure, Ben. Well, Mr. Beauregard mentioned the library a few times in various stories. However, he stated that during World War Two? the secret apartment was built inside the library. However, it actually—

Beauregard Ahhh! The Hitler Suite! Yes, it was commissioned by Germany, October 7th, 1944 as a possible hiding place for their infamous leader, Theodore Waldorf von Hitler.

Sammy Adolf?

Beauregard Gesundheit.

Emily I’m sorry but the apartment was actually built when the library was, in 1912. I’ve seen the blueprints and everything. Funny story, it was actually used as—

Ben Y’know, Emily, maybe we should hear him out on this one. I can see a connection forming here.

Emily *giggles* Oh Ben, you’re so funny.

Beauregard Miss Potter.

Emily Yes, Mr. Beauregard?

Beauregard You are a simpleton of the highest order, and should not be tasked to watch over a magazine, much less a palace of learning such as the King Falls Library.

Ben You son of a b[bleep]!

Sammy Ben! It’s not worth it, calm down, he’s just an old nutcase!

Beauregard Of course the two of you are thick as thieves. I should have known I was in for an ambush in this rrramshackle radio station. You two lowlifes should be honored by my presence!

Sammy Beauregard, please take yourself and go honor the dust in your mansion. We’re done here.

Beauregard How dare you. Turn this radio broadcast off this instant! I demand it. I will not be treated like this!

Ben Go.

Sammy [aggressively] If you don’t leave, Mr. Beauregard, we’re gonna be forced to call the sheriff’s department

Beauregard Well there’s no need to wake my personal friend, Sheriff Gunderson, from his slumber. He’d only throw the book at you rapscallions anyway.

Ben Your e-book isn’t worth the paper it’s not printed on.

Beauregard [sound of a chair being shoved back] [voice getting quieter as he storms off] You merry fools! I can buy this radio station! Just to fire you! Mark my words!

Sammy We’ll be waiting on those pink slips! but until then, get out of our studio, please and thank you. Well then.

Ben I hate to say “I told you so” but…

Sammy I’m sorry Ben, *sad sigh* [increasingly mumbled] y’know I was just trying to understand this stuff a little bit better.

Ben [sincerely] I appreciate that.

Sammy Folks, we’re just going to take a quick break here to get back on track but let—

Emily [softly] Hey, Ben?

Ben Hello?

Sammy Oh! Line one is still engaged.

Emily Thank you for sticking up for me, Ben.

Ben Ah! I mean, any time! I mean you, uh, you're- you’re… welcome?

Sammy Ladies and gents, Ben has just invented a new shade of red from all this blushing. You know what? tweet me @KingFallsAM right now and I’m gonna post a pic.

Ben [hissed] Shut up, Sammy.

Emily Hey, Ben?

Ben Yeah? I’m here.

Emily I was just wondering… Well, I’ve- I’ve been wondering, um, maybe, uh- And you can- say no! if you want. But, would you, possibly, like to- go out? uh, maybe to Rose’s Diner this weekend?

Ben [voice cracking slightly] Yes. I mean… Sure- maybe- we could do, something, like that! I’ll- I’ll, I mean I do. I need to… *clears throat* check my schedule. But um—

Emily Okay then! I’ll- talk to you later! Goodnight, Ben.

[click, dial tone]

Sammy Well I think—

Ben Don’t. [whispering] Let me savor this.

Sammy *chuckles* We’ll be right back after a word from our sponsors, kids.

[KFAM outro]

[CREDITS]

References

[1] Phone a friend- probably well known, but this is a reference to the show “Who Wants To Be a Millionaire”

#king falls am #king falls #kfam #sammy stevens #ben arnold #kfam transcripts #kfam ep6 #howard ford beauregard iii #hfb3 #Ron Begley #emily potter

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