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axwalker · 3 years

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Creep 2: I don’t care if it hurts

HIGH SCHOOL AU

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Lexie O’Brien) Book TRR

MASTERLIST HERE

Synopsis: Drake and Lexie are star-crossed lovers. Her father hates him and forces Lexie to stop any contact with Drake. Lost and heartbroken, he “bullies” her for two years until he discovers the truth of Lexie’s behavior.

A/N 1 This came up to me after I got an ask from @nestledonthaveone to write a fic based on the song CREEP.

I used to hear this song when I was a teenager, so when I read this ask, I immediately wanted to write something angsty but situated in high school.

A/N 2: Because they’re younger than usual, I decided to change my FC.

Words: 4,110

WARNINGS: Parental abuse, domestic violence, toxic love.

THIS IS NOT YOUR USUAL MARSHMALLOW DRAKE. He was abandoned as a boy, he’s tortured and he doesn’t know how to express his love. His behavior is not excusable.

This is a dark love story. If you’re not comfortable with it, PLEASE do not read it.

ALL MY FICS ARE 18+

TAGS ON THE COMMENTS

As this is darker than usual; I’m only tagging the people who commented in the previous chapter. If you want to get on or off the list for this fic, please do not hesitate to ask!!

DRAKE

Even if she never looks at me or speaks to me again, she’s mine. Even if I’ve been a horrible jerk to her for two years and she pales every time I pull into the parking lot on my motorcycle, she is mine. Just seeing her with him enrages me, so I walk straight toward my usual seat, directly behind Lexie, and slam my textbook down onto the desk.

Startled, Rys looks up at me, “Hey, Walker. What’s up?”

It’s not the first time he tries to make a move on Lexie. Last time –two years ago, we almost killed each other. Pretty boy might be an entitled ass, but he knows how to fight. Maybe he thinks Lexie is game again after all this time. He couldn’t be more wrong.

“Don’t you have a class this period?” I ask him. Liam cocks his left eyebrow, adjusting the straps of his backpack.

“I fail to see why that concerns you, Creep.”

My smile is murderous. “Get the fuck out of here before I break your face, pretty boy.”

I think he has a death wish because he looks at Lexie when he talks, “See you after class, Alexis, when your watchdog will be busy mowing my lawn.” Finally, he just shakes his head and gets out of the classroom. I resume my daily routine. Staring at the back of Lexie’s head, tracing the curve of her perfect neck, my cock getting hard over her perfect cherry scent.

“So that’s what you like,” I say, leaning forward to speak an inch from her ears. “You like them with blond hair and pink polo shirts. Prospects for Cambridge or shit. A huge trust fund. Don’t you? A brat like you needs someone who can spoil her. I bet you’d introduce him to daddy, wouldn’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. She never does. Her eyes stay stubbornly on the front of the class where the teacher has started writing today’s lesson on the board—my hands fist in desperation. I’m dying for her to talk to me. To look at me. Anything. “Too bad, Lexie. I’ll scare every single one of those fucking entitled boys off. You’re going to sit alone in your house on prom night, crying into your designer sheets like a baby. And I’m going to enjoy it.”

The only sign that she hears me at all is the quickening rise and fall of her shoulders. Even that tiny display that I’ve upset her is agonizing, floods me with self-loathing, but I can never stop. She ripped out my fucking heart, and I can’t deal with the consequences of that alone. I can’t let her go. I’ll never let her go. This toxic feeling is the only thing left between us. My hands shake with the urge to take her in my arms, to stop the trembling I caused. To protect her from everything. Even myself. I’d love to move my fingers up into the silky, brown hair that reaches the middle of her graceful neck. I don’t have a lot of money; most of the cash I earn as a handyman goes to food and fixing my dad’s cabin, but I’d give every last cent for her to turn and lock those soft brown eyes on me, just one last time. Sometimes when I jerk off, all it takes is fantasizing about Lexie looking at me, giving me one of those shy smiles, and I lose it. One stroke. Maybe two. Done. I can’t breathe without having her close. And I can’t breathe with her close. It’s a strange condition, this obsession, but she’s an addiction that I just can’t give up.

How could I? She’s intelligent, strong, and so damned gorgeous. Once upon a time, I thought she had a good heart too. But that was before she broke my pathetic heart only because I’m poor. I’ve been hurting since then, and I need her to hurt too. To know what it feels.

“Do you actually think that dumb rich boy would be a good choice for your first time, Lexie?” I grip my desk so tight it nearly breaks down, just thinking about her being kissed –touched by someone else. “At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with Rys for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my rundown cabin door, begging me to fuck you as we both know you’d like.”

A pretty blush is starting to climb her neck. I have to take a deep breath to keep from kiss her pink cheeks. But I think if I got to touch her skin, my wall of bullshit would crumble. I’ve only fucked one girl. Since seeing Lexie for the first time freshman year, there’s been no one but her. I want no one else. She owns my cock as sure as she owns my heart. How easily she’s forgotten about both leaving me in agony.

“Stop,” she breathes. I freeze. Did she just speak to me? It’s the first time in two years that she’s even remotely acknowledged my existence.

“Lexie,” I managed to say. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s all it took. One pleading word out of her mouth, and I’m done.

“Just stop,” she says again, turning her head slightly. “Please.”

I fall back in my chair, my heart thundering on my chest. If we weren’t in the middle of class, if I didn’t feel like a monster, I would pull her into my arms right now. I’d hug her until she stopped struggling, then beg her to hit me, bruise me, make me pay for every shitty thing I’ve ever said to her. But before long, the class is over, and she’s leaving the classroom to get out of here. To put distance between us as quickly as possible—and I have no choice but to watch her because I feel physically ill. Still, I manage to get out into the student-packed hallway, my plan to apologize for being crude and a jerk and torturing her for so long.

My head is telling me not to apologize, though. It’s telling me she deserved it for being such a snob, for breaking me, for valuing money and status like everyone else. My damned heart is telling an entirely different story. It’s insisting there is an explanation for her behavior. Am I going to apologize or not? The decision is taken out of my hands when Lexie opens her locker, and the little gift I left before class falls down. It’s a picture I cut out from our last yearbook. In the photo is a gorgeous smiling Lexie above the caption Most Likely to Succeed. Except I’ve crossed out the caption and added my own. Most Likely to Be a Trophy Wife. Watching her read it, I almost get sick right there in the hallway. Usually, she’s perfectly composed, not betraying a trace of emotion where I’m concerned—a real Ice queen. I’ve always thought she honestly didn’t care. Today, though… she’s not pulling it off. Something is not okay with her, and I don’t like it. She has to bite down on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering as she puts the photo back into her locker, out of sight, her bright eyes finding me briefly, massacring me where I stand. Betraying with one single look how much she has been affected by my actions. Christ. She hasn’t been indifferent at all.

Before I can react, before I can call her name, she’s gone, vanished into the crowd of wild students excited to be leaving for the day. And I know what I have to do. I have to see her. To apologize. To get an explanation for everything. Tonight. I’ll return to her house for the first time in two years.

LEXIE

I’ve known this was coming all day. Sitting on the couch in my living room, trying to make myself as small as possible, I watch my father pace. He rants, gesticulating noisily. This isn’t new, my father’s rage threatening me. But it’s going to be worse than usual. Business has declined for him and it’s put his temper on a trigger. Dad’s new wife, Nancy, hates to be on a budget, and she’s been spending his money like crazy all over Paris --where she’s now. When dad gets home from the office, he’s rarely in anything but a horrible mood. A tornado eating up everything in its path. Completely terrifying. At least dad’s temper makes me forget what Drake told me today, the ugly words he said to me, the boiling anger in his eyes when he looks at me.

“Are you even listening?” The slap across the face comes as a shock because I’d momentarily disappeared into my thoughts, but the sting quickly brings me back to reality.

“Yes, sir,” I say, my ears ringing. “I’m listening.”

“This C on your algebra test is going to drag your whole average down.” He’s waving the test in my face. “What a disappointment you are, Alexis. Your teacher shared my disgust.” I nod solemnly, but I’m listening for the rain outside. “I guess you’re your daughter’s mother after all. A poor Mexican girl who could barely count.” It’s not true. My mom learned English and Greek by herself, and she was a great Spanish teacher in Portavira, but my father would rather die than acknowledge how smart she was.

“Don’t talk like that about her,” I retort.

My father snorts. “I beg your pardon?” He takes a step towards me, and I can see the threat in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I hate to be such a coward, but I know what he can do to me.” I’ll do extra credit. Something to bring my grade back up to an A.” I wet my lips. “Even if I can’t manage to raise the grade, it’s not going to show up on the college transcripts I sent off with my applications.” That’s the reason I let my focus slip a little in algebra. The finish line is in sight for everyone, and we’re just waiting to find out where we’ll be accepted for college. It’s a wonder I’ve been able to maintain my focus this long in any class, considering Walker sits behind me in every period, brooding making me feel … something. At the reminder of him, I want to close my eyes and dream about him. I replay that night in my garden when he kissed me two years ago, so tenderly and passionately, when he spoke to me so sweetly and honestly before he became the second villain in my story. Someone I dread, as much as I crave the sight of him.

At least that’s one thing us poor motherfuckers have going for us. We know how to fuck. If you went out with that punk for a while, you’d eventually give in and come slumming it one night, wouldn’t you? Knock on my trailer door, begging me to ride you right.

Should I be ashamed of the way my body reacted to those words? I grew uncomfortably damp in the hard plastic chair, the center of my body clenching, seeming to beat like a heart. His breath on my neck made me shiver, head to toe. Even the way he scared off Liam Rys did something to me. Aroused me. Deeply. It got so bad that I broke the rules and asked him to stop. I can still hear him saying my name in that tortured way after. That shocked, uneven sound. Lexie. And whether I’m ashamed of myself for it or not, I know I’ll think of it when I touch myself tonight. His voice, his hands, his eyes obsess me.

“College?” My father snorts, tearing the test in half. “You’re not going to college.”

This grabs my attention. A horrible feeling is making me cold. “I’m…what? What do you mean? I applied to nine different schools. I have a four-point five GPA.”

For the first time, I notice his red face is about more than just rage. There’s…humiliation. I’ve never seen him display that emotion.

“None of the American colleges that accepted you offered scholarships.”

“I’ve been accepted?” I gasp, sitting forward, heart pounding in my chest. “Where? I didn’t see the letters—”

“All the mail in this house goes through me, Alexis. I read them. And you failed to get academic scholarships. You failed. Not that I’m surprised.”

I don’t point out that his refusal to let me participate in any extracurricular activities is more than likely to blame for that. I’m too worried about what he’s saying, what this means. The blood is draining from my head, making the room spin around me.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry. But…we have money. We can pay tuition, can’t we? Or colleges in Cordonia are almost for free. I can go to any of them; I don’t have to go to NYU.” I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here. This is my way out. College is the escape route. I counted on going back to New York, but I can stay here and go to college in Cordonia City.

“Listen to you, so quick to spend my hard-earned money—spoiled brat. And of course, you can’t go to college in Cordonia. What for? To end up being a schoolteacher like your mom? A housewife as Nancy?” He laughs bitterly. “No, you’ll stay here, and I’ll help you find someone suitable to marry.”

I shake my head. “There’s financial aid, then. Loans or I can get a job and go to college in Portavira…”

“You want to leave, just like her, don’t you? You’re all the same.”

I don’t even flinch when he yanks me to my feet, shoving me into the wall. In fact, for the first time, I took him right into his eyes. And I can see the violence burning on them has nothing to do with me. It never had anything to do with how I behave, my choices, how hard I worked in school. How welcome I made Nancy feel or cooked a roast. It’s about him and his self-loathing. It’s his sickness. Not mine. I can also see that he was never going to send me to college. Because he wouldn’t be able to control me from a distance or stop me from sharing what I’ve been subjected to since my mother died. Not like he does now. He wasn’t physically abusive all the time. Especially not when his new wife is around. But she traveled often, and then he’d push me. Shove me. Slapped me several times. I’ll graduate at the top of my class for nothing. He knew I would all along.

That’s when I realize I’m free. I don’t have money, but college is free in Cordonia. I can work, save a little and go to college in one or two years. I’ll be a writer; it’ll just take more time than I thought. “Go to hell,” I whisper.

He steps back, giving me the momentary satisfaction of his shock. “What did you say?”

Liberated, I scream it this time. “Go to hell!” From the moment I sat down to have this conversation, I knew tonight would be worse than usual, but I’ve just bought myself a ticket to hell. Usually, I can retreat to the untouchable place inside of me as he unleashes his rage, but not tonight. He doesn’t stop at one or two slaps. He punches and kicks, and I’m present for every punch and kick. Every yelled insult. Finally, I start to get scared. I’m crawling across the carpet on my hands and knees, searching for a weapon I can use in my defense when I glance out the window and see Drake staring back at me, his face a mask of horror.

Drake

What I’m seeing just isn’t possible. It can’t be real. My head won’t accept it. Not until her terror-filled eyes meet mine through the window and the truth pounds on my chest, leaves no doubt that this is real life. Lexie’s father is beating her. Her mouth is bloody, one of her eyes beginning to swell, arms and legs visibly weakened. I can barely fucking process it before my body is springing into action, desperate to protect her. To put a stop to the worst thing I have ever seen. What the fuck. Scorching hot rage takes over. I kick in the front door and throw myself between Lexie and her father. His fist is raised, but it pauses when he sees me, his momentary confusion giving me the time I need to knock him out cold. It only takes one right uppercut from someone his own size, and he goes down, his blank, glassy eyes staring at nothing, mouth opened. It’s not satisfying enough.

Nothing will ever be satisfying enough. I want to kill him, destroy him, but my Lexie is struggling for breath behind me, and she’s all I can think about. Turning, I approach her, my heart threatening to jump off my chest. As gently as I can, I catalog all of the cuts and purpling skin. No. No. Who could do this to her? Who could lay a finger on her in anything but reverence? Get her out of here. Calling her name, I reach down to pick her up, but she flinches and hurries back, bringing her body up against the wall.

“Don’t touch me!” Those words filled with fear rip the soul clean out of my body. My hands drop limply to my sides and two years come rushing back, hitting me in the chest like a hammer. Every word, every action. Everything I did to make her life harder when this is what she’s been dealing with at home? Fuck me.

“Lexie…” My voice is as kind as I can. I feel broken. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize. For everything.”

She puffs a humorless laugh, testing her cut lip with the tip of her tongue. “Bet you weren’t expecting to see this.”

“If I knew this was happening, I would have been here a long time ago. I would have stopped it. I swear Lex.”

Her expression can only be described as stunned. Maybe even a little pissed. “You are not my savior, Drake. You are my enemy. You’ve been for two years, and I want nothing else from you now.”

“I am not your enemy.” Those words barely make it out of me, my chest hurts so fucking bad. “Don’t say that.”

Unsteadily, she uses the wall to try and stand. I try to help her, but she recoils, and it’s a dagger straight into the center of my throat. Nothing less than I deserve, though, isn’t it? Her distrust of me is entirely my fault. I’ve made her hate me. There has to be some way to fix what I’ve done. Please God, let there be away. But right now, my main concern is her physical safety. Knowing she’s been in danger all along is unbearable. I only decided to come here tonight a few hours ago. What if I didn’t? What if I arrived an hour later? The possibilities are going to haunt me for the rest of my life. From the floor, her father groans, shifting slightly.

“We need to get you out of here,” I say, anxious to get her free of this place. “Now, Lexie. I need to get you somewhere safe.”

She’s standing now. Leaning against the wall and cradling one arm to her stomach, regarding me warily. “How do I know I’m safe with you?” It’s so much worse that her question is honest. Not meant to hurt me. She honestly doesn’t know if I pose a threat. It guts me where I stand.

“You are the safest with me,” I say thickly, cursing myself. Wanting to erase the last two years so badly, my hands shake. “Please believe me. I’d die before hurting you. I’d never, Lexie. I’d never do something like that.”

Her father rolls over onto his back and slurs a few words before losing consciousness again. Still, the sound of the older man’s voice seems to scare Lexie, “I…maybe you can just give me a ride to…a motel maybe?” She pushes off the wall, her step uneven as she walks toward the stairs. “I need some things from my room.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her we don’t have time, but I’m just grateful she’s trusting me enough to leave with me, so I don’t argue. I just wait until she’s halfway up the stairs, then tie her father’s hands behind his back with my belt in case he wakes up before we leave. I have no problem knocking him out a second time, but Lexie has seen enough violence for one night. Cautiously, I walk up the stairs toward the light coming from a room halfway down the hall. This place is a far cry from my home. It’s elegant and clean, and tasteful, but it lacks any warmth whatsoever. It’s cold, like a museum. Turning the corner into Lexie’s room, it’s time to hate myself all over again. There is nothing on the walls, none of the expensive furnishings. Just four white walls, a bed, and a dresser that doubles as a desk. Several textbooks. She looks back at me over her shoulder as if judging my reaction, and I keep my features impassive, though I’m dying on the inside.

“What can I do?” I ask.

“How long do we have?”

“As long as you need.” It’s physically painful not to pull her into my arms when I’m standing this close, and she’s hurt. Sad. Yet full of more inner strength than I’ve ever witnessed in another human being. I’m lucky just to be in her presence. I fucked up royally. And if she allows me back in, I’ll never do it again. It’s probably, definitely, too much to hope for. Being allowed back in. She doesn’t even look sure about having me in her room. Let alone her heart. I was trying to protect my own heart, but I lost it instead.

“Um…” She closes her eyes to focus, a familiar trait I’ve seen in class countless times. “There is a black bag in the hallway closet. Can you just stuff anything into it from the bathroom that looks useful?”

Ask me to bring you a unicorn. I’ll find a way to do it. “Sure.” We work in silence, Lexie taking things out of drawers and adding them to the bag, which I’ve left open on the floor. I add toiletries from the bathroom, and once it’s zipped, I wait, watching her hesitate in the doorway.

“Lexie?” Conflicted chocolate eyes meet mine.

“I can’t just leave, can I?”

“You’re not safe here, baby,” I say softly, trying to keep the residual rage at bay because it’s the last thing she needs. Not to mention she’s had her fill with negativity from me. No more. “How long…how long?”

She shrugs, the saddest expression in her eyes. “My mom died five years ago. Ever since then, it’s gotten worse and worse. Although I never had a chance to talk to anyone about what happened behind closed doors, you know? I don’t think a person can evolve into a monster. It’s inside him.”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I became one, didn’t I?”

That gives her pause, forms a line between her delicate brows. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

She starts to walk past me, stops, standing close enough to fill my nose with cherry. “He told me if I ever spoke to you ever again, he would hurt me. Ruin you, have you evicted. Make sure you never got hired again. I didn’t mean to…hurt you. Or hurt your feelings, if that’s what happened.”

That revelation destroys me, sets me on fire. “Jesus, Lexie. You were protecting me? And I…I tortured you for it?” I twist the neck of my T-shirt, trying to calm down, but it doesn’t work. I’ll never be calm again “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She glances at the doorway, then back at me, eyes closed again in that way that says she’s thinking. “All I want from you now is a ride out of here, okay? And on Monday morning, you’ll stop.” She opens her shining eyes again. “No more bullying, Drake. If you’re really sorry, you’ll do that for me.”

Fuck. I couldn’t say one more single shitty thing to her if my life depended on it. Put me at gunpoint, and I’d rather get shot at than torture this girl for one more second. But I’m highly, painfully aware that with an end to the bullying comes an end to the possessiveness. No more scaring off guys who show interest in her. No more getting close enough in class to count the hairs on her head, to smell her sweet fragrance. And to tell the truth, I’m pretty fucking worried I don’t know how to give those things up completely. I don’t think I can physically do it. This addiction with Lexie isn’t something I can cut off. A leg would be easier to sever. But my hesitation is causing her eyes to worry. If I don’t agree to, essentially, let her go… she’s not going anywhere with me. And that means her safety won’t be guaranteed. I need it to be. More than anything.

“No more bullying,” I say, finally. A moment later, I follow her out of the room and down the stairs, trying desperately to count the hairs on her head before I no longer have the chance.

#tw domestic violence #toxic relationship #tw bullying

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jobean12-blog · 4 years

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Iris

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,263

Summary: Bucky has a rough night and afterwards he needs some reassurance.

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club 24 hour surprise drabble challenge: Inspired By Song Titles and @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Hamilton Lyric Challenge and the prompt: I’m never gonna stop from Guns and Ships. Also, my beautiful friend @nano--raptor had sent me a request for a Bucky fic based off of the song Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls so I thought it was perfect for this. I love this song and I hope you love this! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ PS I PROMISE IT ENDS HAPPY :)

Warnings: Angst at first but it’s soft and filled with love and the end is fluffy mostly and it has a happy ending! :)

“Steve. Steve!” You hear him fumbling with the doorknob and you wait with a knot in your stomach for him to open the door. He yanks it open, almost too hard, and stands there looking disheveled and half asleep. “What? What’s wrong y/n?” Your fingers hurt from wringing your hands together and your voice is hoarse from crying, “I can’t find him. I don’t know where he is.”

Steve’s forehead crinkles in worry and he takes your hand, pulling you in for a hug. “When did you see him last?” Your body shakes with your tears and Steve patiently waits while you to catch your breath. “Everything seemed fine last night. We had dinner, watched a movie and read together before bed. But then he had a nightmare. He hasn’t had one is so long. And when I woke him up, he looked so scared and broken. I thought he had gone back to sleep but when I woke up this morning he was gone.”

You can feel Steve’s shoulders sag, your own already bowed under the weight of your worry, “ok, it’s ok. I think I know where he might be.” Wiping your eyes with the back of your hand you sniffle loudly and pull Bucky’s hoodie tighter around your body. “Just gimme a minute to change.” You nod and wait on the couch. Your heart is in your throat and you try to stop your body from trembling with each breath.

“Ok. Come on.” Steve leads you out the door and onto the street. He walks fast, his arm looped through yours and his hands in his pockets. When you reach the small park Steve stops and looks down at you, his eyes soft, “he loves you. More than anything. You have to remind him that you see him for who he really is.” You squeeze his hand, “thank you Steve.” He watches you walk into the park, “call me if you need anything. I’m not far.” You wave and turn the corner, sucking in a breath when you see Bucky sitting on a bench, his head dropped low.

“Bucky?” You can barely hear yourself over the beating of your own heart but when he looks up it’s as if everything comes back into focus. He stands and starts to move toward you, his long legs making the trip short as you launch yourself into his open arms. He holds you so tightly to his chest you can’t breathe but this time it doesn’t feel like you’re dying, it feels like home.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He says it over and over and you hold onto him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. “I shouldn’t have left. I’m just scared. I’m still broken. I can’t lose you.” You can feel his large body shake with emotion and your heart breaks all over again. “Bucky. I love you. I love you more than anything in world. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He walks you to the bench and sits down, pulling you into his lap, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I want to be everything you need but I’m afraid people will think I’m not good enough. They only see me as one thing.” The tears that fall from his eyes match your own and you touch his face, brushing the stubble that lines his cheeks before gently running your thumb along his lips. “I see you Bucky. I see every piece of you, and I know who you are.” Your hand slides down his neck and rests against his chest, over his beating heart.

His metal hand covers yours, his thunderous heartbeat slowly becoming steadier, “I don’t wanna go home yet. Can we stay a bit longer?” Your lips touch his in a barely there kiss, your eyes locked on his, “I want to be wherever you are Bucky. You’re all I need.” His lips are warm when they meet yours, his hand curling into your hair and tugging you closer. “Bucky, I love you. I’m never gonna stop.”

Resting his forehead to yours he lets the words sink in and wash over him. When his eyes meet yours again, they look clearer and more alive. “Thank you. Thank you for loving me.” Your brush the hair away from his face and cradle his jaw, stroking your fingers along his cheek, “that’s all I want to do.” He leans into your touch and closes his eyes before he kisses the palm of your hand and curls his own around it.

You sit quietly, just breathing in each other and letting the world melt away. It isn’t until you hear the loud bark of a dog that you lift your head, smiling when a large fluff of white bounds toward you. The dog’s tail is wagging a mile a minute and Bucky reaches out to pet her, quickly pulling his hand back when he realizes it’s his metal one. You take his wrist and pull him forward, letting the dog sniff it. The dog’s nose wiggles this way and that before she nudges her head under Bucky’s hand for pets.

Bucky beams and scratches behind the dog’s ears, laughing when she positions her butt between his legs for more pets. “She definitely likes you.” A young man comes rushing over, panting and trying to catch his breath, “I’m so sorry guys! She loves the park and got away from me in her excitement.” You smile brightly and notice he’s wearing a shirt from the animal rescue nearby. “Oh, it’s no problem. She’s an absolute sweetheart! I think she loves my boyfriend.”

Bucky gives your waist a little squeeze and continues petting the dog. “I can see that. It’s great because to be honest she’s been really shy around most men, so this is really good.” It’s hard to tell who’s happier and you ask, “is she available for adoption?” The guy nearly bursts with joy, vigorously shaking his head yes. Bucky looks up, first at you, your eyes excited and hopeful, then to Winter. “Want to take a walk?” You jump off his lap with a squeal and the volunteer hands Bucky the leash, “she’s a great girl. I can tell you more about her while we head back.”

You walk hand in hand with Bucky, listening to Winter’s story and how she came to the rescue. You can tell Bucky is smitten and Winter clearly reciprocates the feeling. His shoulders seem lifted and his smile is genuine. When you reach the rescue Bucky pauses, handing the leash back to the volunteer, “can you give us minute please?” Winter whines but goes inside and Bucky takes your hands in his. Holding your finger to his lips you quickly speak, “before you say anything I just want you to know that dogs are an excellent judge of character.” Bucky smiles and dips his head, “I know. “I just. I need to say this. I love you. You’ve found parts of me that I didn’t know existed and in you I found a love I no longer believed was real.”

It’s hard for you to find the words to respond, your eyes now wet with fresh tears, so you kiss him and hope that all you’re feeling comes through with it. When you finally pull away for a breather, Bucky’s eyes are still closed and he brushes his nose against yours, his whispered “thank you,” telling you everything you need to know. Later that afternoon, you make your way back home, now a family of three.

@addikted-2-dopamine @bugsbucky @bisousbucky @buckstaybucky @breezy1415 @buckys-henley @book-dragon-13 @chuuulip @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @harrysthiccthighss @ikaris-whore @jhangelface0523 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @jewels2876 @loricameback @lorilane33 @lookiamtrying @lokilvrr @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @marvelandotherfandomimagines @marvelgirl7 @nano--raptor @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @tuiccim @the-wayward-robot @this-kitten-is-smitten @yansi1923 @sassenachsansa @nerdypinupcrystal

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drowningbydegrees · 3 years

Text

Something Ordinary - Part 1

This is my Novigrad Exchange gift for @aalizazareth who asked for fluff, road trip, or hurt/comfort, and I figured how about all of them? I hope this delivers!

A huge thank you to @goodheavensgwen for betaing, but also for all the brainstorming and cheerleading along the way. This fic is so much better for having your input. <3

It’s in the same verse as Noonwraiths and Other Woodland Forest Creatures, but it’s not necessary to read that to understand this one. Not, this is largely fluffy and ridiculous, but there’s some canon typical mention of blood and injury.

Read on AO3

Ordinary people don’t… date witchers. Granted, Geralt has been coming to the diner where Jaskier works for the last year and a half, just about. Twenty-one months, but who’s counting? It isn’t a precisely educational experience, but between the pancakes and mediocre coffee he’s come to realize that Jaskier is anything but ordinary.

Geralt had never meant to do anything with that information. If he sometimes goes out of his way to stop in between contracts, it’s no one’s business but his own. It’s just nice to have one place he can go where someone is genuinely happy to see him. And alright, Jaskier is more alluring than he has any right to be. And perhaps Geralt spends his visits wordlessly nursing a cup of coffee just to have an excuse to listen to Jaskier chatter on about nothing in particular a while longer.

Well, he did, anyway. Things are different in the months since they exchanged numbers after Geralt stumbled in half dead after a contract. Jaskier’s conversation demands more participation, his smiles are more intentional. And though Geralt would like to think he put up at least a token resistance over these last few months (in which he has received what he’s sure are more text messages than his entire life before), somehow Jaskier has pulled Geralt right along with him.

The point is, Geralt doesn’t do this. He doesn’t let himself get attached to people. He doesn’t give himself a reason to maybe stay in one place a little more. He definitely doesn’t go for coffee shop dates. The fact that their current circumstances started with an attempt to do exactly that is completely coincidental.

Wednesday

2:15 p.m.

Like many things in Geralt’s life, things go sideways before they even start. They don’t even make it inside the coffee shop before his phone rings, and given the only person who calls him for frivolous reasons is right next to him, it’s probably important. All of which is why Geralt had to cancel and is pulling into the gas station before a six hour trip to Oreton.

He’s still not sure how Jaskier got here, though. It’s a bewildering leap from a coffee date to committing to hours in an enclosed space together, but by the time Geralt wraps his head around that Jaskier is already in the passenger seat.

“I’ll get snacks,” Jaskier offers, already opening the car door. “Do you want anything?”

Geralt motions to a box in the back seat. “I’m good.”

“Are those granola bars?” Jaskier makes a comically disapproving noise, sliding out of his seat. He leans over enough to poke his head back in. “Do you know who thinks granola bars count as road trip snacks? My grandma.”

“What’s wrong with…” Geralt starts, but Jaskier is already gone.

To Jaskier’s credit, he’s emerging from the gas station once more by the time the gas tank is full. Well, Jaskier along with a bag of what looks like more candy than someone could eat in a week and the two cups he’s juggling.

“I promised you coffee! I can’t guarantee it’s good coffee, mind you, but it is coffee,” Jaskier explains before Geralt can ask, circling the car to press a cup into the witcher’s hands.

He doesn’t do this, and supposes he could be mistaken, but Geralt is pretty certain the coffee isn’t actually the operant word in ‘coffee date.’ Still, it’s… it’s something he doesn’t quite know what to do with. Jaskier has always been friendly, but he’s taken up doing all sorts of things as of late that can’t be chalked up to it being his job, and they never seem to leave Geralt any less unmoored than he feels right now, staring at the paper cup aggressively warming the palms of his hands.

“It’s for drinking,” Jaskier prompts, and as silly as it is, the whole thing only gets more absurd. Because the glare Geralt responds with is normally enough to make people shy away, but Jaskier doesn’t even have the decency to pretend to be alarmed. He laughs, soft and lilting in a way Geralt never wants to let go of, like there’s nothing strange about any of this. Like the two of them are made for these ordinary things Geralt has never given himself the space to want.

But Jaskier has never been ordinary.

3:07 p.m.

He’s made a terrible miscalculation in this plan, Jaskier privately acknowledges about thirty miles from home. This plan. The one that was definitely an actual plan and not just an impulsive desire to go on an adventure and see Geralt in action. Does it count as a plan if he invents a purpose? Maybe he’ll write a song about it. The subject matter is a little niche, but that’s half the appeal.

The other half of the appeal is the man sitting in the driver’s seat, silently watching the nearly empty highway stretch out in front of them. He’s always pretty, but working third shift Jaskier has never really gotten to see Geralt like this, drenched in sunlight that softens his features and mutes the slight frown that seems to own permanent real estate on his face. It’s haunting, the way it lights up Geralt’s silvery white hair, like some particularly attractive ghost.

Therein lies the miscalculation, because the thing is, Geralt is no different than any other time Jaskier has been around him, which is about as talkative as the pet rock he had when he was six. Normally, that’s fine. Geralt tolerates Jaskier’s chatter at the diner. And since it’s Jaskier’s job, he usually only wanders to Geralt’s table for minutes at a time. But there are no places to wander off to in the passenger seat of Geralt’s car, and he’s barely gotten three words out of the witcher since the gas station.

“So, what are we hunting?” he tries, because it’s the one topic he’s seen loosen Geralt’s tongue. A lot, actually. He doesn’t remember even half of what Geralt tells him, but it’s terribly endearing all the same. Even if it leaves him longing to know more about what else Geralt cares about.

“I am hunting a leshen. You are staying in the car,” Geralt replies without so much as a glance his way. If he notices Jaskier’s exasperated sigh, he gives no indication.

“I… remember you mentioning those, I think,” Jaskier focuses on the leshen because it was very definitely on the list of things Geralt told him about the first night he successfully got the witcher to have anything resembling a conversation. He resolutely ignores all the words Geralt just said around that. If he doesn’t lie and say he’ll stay put, then he won’t be lying when he inevitably does not do that. Sheepishly, he ducks his head. “In my defense, there was kind of a lot going on that night. Maybe tell me again?”

That earns Jaskier a smile, however small and brief it is. It’s a win as far as Jaskier is concerned. Now if he could just wrangle a conversation.

“Tall. Sort of humanoid. Covered in branches.” Geralt says nothing else until Jaskier clears his throat, trying to prompt the witcher to give him something at least. “They have antlers.”

“Very informative,” Jaskier chides, shaking his head. He supposes he should have known better than to assume this would work. “Anything else?”

“They live in the forest.” Jaskier is so surprised to actually get an answer, he almost misses the way the corner of Geralt’s mouth twitches upward. “You know, like noonwraiths.”

Jaskier gasps, holding a hand up to his chest as if in shock. “Was that… I’m sorry. Was that a joke I just heard?”

It’s been a ridiculous joke between them for a while now, but it hits differently this time. It’s always silly, but for the first time it sinks in that it’s theirs. They have A Thing, and it leaves Jaskier all but vibrating to realize because that’s… well, that’s significant. It feels significant at any rate.

“You were serious about the woods though, right?” Jaskier asks once he remembers they were in the middle of a conversation.

“I was serious about the woods.”

Jaskier cocks his head to the side, trying to make sense of that. “Then, how is it an emergency?”

“This one was in someone’s yard,” Geralt clarifies. As much as Jaskier would like to be annoyed by the brevity, he has to admit that that actually more or less clears it up.

Jaskier tries to imagine this tree branch antler person… thing creeping over the fence of some poor, unsuspecting homeowner like a nosy neighbor. It’s a mistake, because Jaskier doesn’t know the shape in which those descriptors fit together, so it’s much more comical than frightening. He tries and fails to stifle an amused huff of laughter, but of course that would be the thing that finally gets Geralt to look at him for a second.

“Sorry, I…” Jaskier pauses, not sure he can actually explain why that’s funny since Geralt has the benefit of knowing how all his sparse descriptors fit together. “So, what are you going to do? Bribe it to go home?”

“Not this time. They’re intelligent, but you can’t reason with them. Most creatures kill because they feel threatened or to survive. Leshens are hostile. Always.” The explanation makes sense. It doesn’t sound like there’s any way around killing the creature, but Jaskier knows he isn’t imagining the sadness clouding Geralt’s features.

He has no idea how someone could possibly meet Geralt, who never takes a life if he can save it, who spends his existence keeping people safe, who has so much compassion for even the most unlovable of things, and think witchers are anything but good. Underneath the caustic disposition he shields himself with, Geralt is kinder than most humans. It makes Jaskier yearn to coax the world into seeing what he does.

Maybe he can. There’s the beginning of an idea, but before Jaskier can follow that thread, he’s distracted by Geralt. More specifically, he’s distracted by Geralt being distracted, something finally luring the witcher’s eyes briefly from the road. So, of course Jaskier turns his head to see what could possibly be so interesting.

“Horses?” Jaskier winces when he realizes he’s asked the question out loud. It’s not really even a question. They were definitely horses, one chestnut and one gray, happily grazing along the fence containing them.

“Witchers used to travel that way,” Geralt murmurs, before Jaskier even asks a question. It’s a good tactic, giving one piece of information to steer away from Jaskier’s pursuit of another. Or it would be if Jaskier wasn’t onto him.

“Yeah. Witchers and everyone else. It’d be pretty inconvenient now though, what with all the… highways and stuff. So, I’m not sure I’m following the significance.” Jaskier watches carefully, but Geralt’s expression betrays nothing. “Unless this is the part where you’re gonna tell me you’re three hundred years old or something.”

Geralt is conspicuously silent. Jaskier has never met someone who can express so much with the various ways he chooses to express nothing. It’s an exasperating quality, but impressive.

“Wait. You’re not actually, are you? I mean, not that that’s a problem, per se. Just that—” Jaskier pauses in the midst of his babbling when he catches Geralt turning his head away just the tiniest bit. It’s not fast enough to hide that Geralt seems to be biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

3:34 p.m.

There’s a lot of farmland out this way, miles of cornfields, sure, but animals too. Jaskier briefly entertains the notion that maybe Geralt grew up on a farm and is homesick or something. He’s a storyteller by nature, after all, and Geralt is such an enigma, surely he can’t be blamed for trying to fill in the gaps. Jaskier curiously watches Geralt when they lapse back into silence. They’re surrounded on both sides by… actually, Jaskier has no idea what those fields are. The only crop he actually recognizes is corn. But whatever it is, if Geralt has any attachment to it, his expression betrays nothing.

Jaskier is about to write his previous observation off as him reading too much into something ultimately unimportant when crops give way to a green, open meadow. It’s the kind of place Jaskier thinks looks about perfect for a picnic or laying out to watch the clouds drift by, or something. It’s also the kind of place where someone keeps a rather striking-looking horse, its coat a shade of gold just a touch warmer than Geralt’s eyes. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s a palomino,” Geralt replies, though Jaskier doesn’t think he’s actually looked that way. Either Geralt is even more subtle than Jaskier gives him credit for, or something about that merits remembering.

“The breed?” Jaskier presses. This is even more fascinating than coaxing Geralt into talking about monsters. It’s not a subject Jaskier knows a damned thing about either, but it’s an unexpected thing Geralt seems to be interested in, and that all by itself makes it worth pursuing.

“It’s not a breed.” Maybe ‘talking about’ is a little too charitable a description for the handful of words Jaskier gets Geralt to part with at any one time. That’s a puzzle too. Jaskier hasn’t quite sussed out whether Geralt actually doesn’t like talking or if it’s a side effect of the way humans tend to respond to witchers. It’s a shame either way. Jaskier quite likes listening to him.

“Okay…?” Jaskier prods. It’s only afterwards that it occurs to him that if Geralt truly isn’t interested in talking, maybe when the witcher is stuck a foot away from Jaskier and can’t extricate himself from the situation is not the right time to push the matter.

“It’s a color.” After a slight pause, Geralt adds, “Gold coat. White mane and tail.”

There’s more after, not that Jaskier can keep up with most of it. Often, even when Jaskier is actively trying to engage, all he gets from Geralt is a wordless hum or a raised eyebrow. So, the fact that there are a number of words in a row is noteworthy already. That Geralt is continuing to speak without being prompted is nothing short of a miracle. Maybe pushing wasn’t the problem so much as finding the right subject matter.

And thus, a new game is born. Whether out of some sense of dignity or something else, Geralt doesn’t actually mention when they pass by horses. It’s the very slight shift in Geralt’s body language, something Jaskier would probably say was him perking up if it were more explicit, that clues Jaskier in if he doesn’t see them himself. But the minute Jaskier mentions them, Geralt appears all too happy to talk about the precise measurement that differentiates horses and ponies (14.2 hands or less, which then becomes an extended conversation about why horses are measured in hands), the Lippizaner stallion troupe (which Jaskier will admit he would really like to see if they’re even half as impressive as Geralt suggests), and that one breed of wild horses that are maybe possibly completely divergent from domestic horses (Jaskier immediately forgets how to pronounce their name, but he does remember they sort of look like especially stocky donkeys).

“How do you know all this, anyway? I’m starting to think you should have gone to work in a stable or something instead of being a witcher,” Jaskier teases after a particularly emphatic explanation about what an utter failure Redania’s wild horse adoption program is. “I mean, it would definitely be my loss, but…”

He trails off, teasing smile immediately fading as he happens to look over at Geralt. Even when he’s happy, Geralt’s expressions tend to be a bit muted, but there’s no trace of anything like happiness now. His head is subtly bowed, like he’s ashamed of something, and that just won’t do at all. There’s nothing shameful about the details that make up a person. Before Jaskier can ask what exactly dampened the mood, Geralt softly replies, “I was going to.”

“You were?” It might be a mistake. This was meant to be fun. It’s just that Geralt so rarely gives Jaskier anything about himself, and Jaskier so desperately wants to know him. He rationalizes that if he drops the matter, Geralt will think he doesn’t care and won’t ever try again. “What happened?”

“Not important.” The words are clipped, but Jaskier has at least known Geralt long enough to differentiate between the witcher being actually irritated and any of the multitude of other emotions that make him sound irritated. This is definitely one of the latter.

“Of course it’s important if it makes you look like that.” Impulsively, Jaskier reaches out to lay a hand on Geralt’s shoulder. The way Geralt nearly jumps out of his skin is a stark reminder that he’s not quite so instinctively tactile as Jaskier is. Geralt doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t answer either, so Jaskier only lingers briefly before pulling his hand back into his lap.

“I thought everyone was exaggerating about how things would change when they made me into this,” Geralt explains, so quiet that Jaskier has to listen carefully over the engine. It’s an aching, vulnerable thing, as human a confession as Jaskier has ever heard before Geralt’s expression abruptly shutters.

“I’m so sorry… Wait, made you?” Jaskier realizes, not for the first time, that he knows nothing about witchers. Nothing true at any rate.

But whatever strange magic had coaxed Geralt into speaking has passed, and the witcher doesn’t even acknowledge Jaskier has said anything. He longs to know more, to soothe whatever it is that hurts so much, but Jaskier has at least enough sense to realize that if he presses now, Geralt will think twice about telling him anything later. The minutes stretch out between them like taffy, the silence deafening until Jaskier absolutely cannot take it. He impulsively reaches for the radio, turning the dial until the static of a station that’s long since out of range is coming through the speakers. “So… music!”

Geralt’s lips purse in… actually Jaskier isn’t all that familiar with this particular expression yet. His default state is so grumpy, it’s hard to tell this time if he’s annoyed or uncomfortable. Neither one is what he’s going for, so he pointedly does not ask what that station is, immediately setting about adjusting until a melody cuts clearly through the hissing noise. Fic Masterpost

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #the witcher #my fic #Featuring a lot of road trip shenanigans

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aaronhotchnersquarterzip · 3 years

Text

Meeting You Flipped the World Upside Down - Or Maybe Just Mine

This is it guys, I’m really proud in general of myself for finishing this and I hope you all enjoyed it as well. When I started this fic I honestly planned for a major character death or something dramatic like that. Never in my wildest dreams did I see this ending. I’m not mad though, I’ve had a rough time lately and this really summed up a lot of my feelings. There are people who will never truly leave your life and that's okay. You just shouldn’t let the thought of them hold you back. This has been my favorite thing to write ever and I want to thank everyone who has supported this and made me feel so good about my writing. I did leave this open ended if I ever did want to continue it but I think I want to write something a bit lighter next. I really hope you all enjoyed this as much as I have and remember to stay safe and drink some water today - Mya

Summary: Reader has been a rut, stuck in a never ending cycle of college worries and job interviews. Never did she think that SSA Aaron Hotchner, or Agent as she likes to call him, would walk into her favorite late night diner and flip her world upside down. And he for sure didn’t expect to fall in love so quickly with the soon to be college grad. They navigate finding love and working together to rediscover what that means for each of them.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Epilogue

Aaron Hotchner did flip your world upside down. Maybe just not in the way you expected. But in the way you needed. You watched your children chase their father around the backyard. It was nearly below freezing but they were going strong. You made hot chocolate for their impending arrival inside. In the meantime you curled up on the couch with a warm blanket and watched the fire burn. The Christmas tree was lit nicely in the corner of the living room, an abundance of presents spilling out.

You pulled out your phone and scrolled through some old pictures. Baby pictures of your three children. Your wedding, it was a fall wedding. More than you could have ever dreamed of. You also looked at your college graduation pictures. Emily, JJ, and Penelope had surprised you and showed up to commencement. Screaming when you walked across the stage. You should call them soon. Finally, you found the picture you were looking for, you and Aaron at one of Dave’s dinners. It was a candid that Morgan took when you weren’t paying attention. Aaron has his arm around you while you’re talking to JJ about god knows what. It’s your favorite picture, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room, you chose to remember nights that those. He changed you for the better, it was only fair you acknowledged that.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your husband and kids ran inside from the cold.

“There’s hot chocolate on the stove waiting for you monsters!” You yelled to them as they rushed to change into warmer clothes.

When they had all settled and had their mugs of hot chocolate, your husband joined you on the couch. Soon followed by your children, two girls and one boy. They quickly turned on a pixar movie and snuggled up to you underneath several blankets. There was nothing you would change about your life. This was exactly where you were meant to be.

By the time the credits rolled to Monsters University all three of them had fallen asleep. You carefully tucked in your youngest daughter, Greer. She was about to turn 2 in the spring. Your surprise baby. You couldn’t have been happier when you found out. Sure the stress of raising three kids got to you sometimes but they reminded you of all the good in the world.

Next was Cheyenne, named after where you met your husband, Noah. You were travelling around the west and made a pit stop in Cheyenne and met the man you were meant to spend forever with. You couldn’t think of a better name for your first daughter, Noah couldn’t have agreed more. She embodied everything good about your husband, his compassion for sure. She was smarter than you by a long shot at just 8 years old.

Finally you came to your oldests room. He had been a welcome surprise just a few months after your wedding. Your not so little boy mirrored you in a way you never thought possible. It scared you at first, everything about being a parent is scary sure, but nobody prepares you for raising your twin. He had your hair and eyes, Noah’s nose, but everything about him was you. His ambition never failed to wow you, he pushed himself to lengths you truly couldn’t believe sometimes. He however, did inherit some of your bad genes though. Sometimes he didn’t know when to stop, when to slow down and enjoy the present. You got better at that with age, you want him to achieve everything he puts his mind to but you need him to see when it’s happening. Not when it’s happened.

You reached down and pushed some of his hair from his face so you could kiss his forehead.

“Goodnight my sweet boy,” you whispered and he snuggled further into his blankets. You smiled softly and walked out quietly. He was already 12, sometimes you couldn't believe that you made it this far. You grew as you moved farther away, you knew that your life belonged out here. Sometimes it’s hard to trust fate but how could you justify meeting Noah and creating your dream life in your new favorite spot in America without believing at least a little bit in fate.

You softly closed your little boy's door and ran your hand over the nameplate crested in the center of the door, Aaron, written in hues of blue.

As you cuddled with your husband while he slowly fell asleep, you reached for your phone and scrolled through an album made just for you and Aaron. Noah may be your future, but Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner was the love of your life and you forever had a part of him.

You pulled up his contact for the first time in 18 years and sent him the photo from that dinner at Dave’s a lifetime ago. You wrote a short message,

I forgive you Agent - Y/N

The last thing you expected was a response, especially so quickly. It was a picture that you had posted on social media a few weeks prior, celebrating your 13th wedding anniversary.

I’m happy you found better. What are their names? - Agent

My youngest is Greer, then Cheyenne. - Y/N

You wait a few minutes to respond, you know he read the message prior.

He’s named after the love of my life Aaron - Y/N

He called you then. You moved quickly and quietly from your bed and down into your living room. Answering before the line went dead.

“You were the love of my life too Y/N. I just didn’t know it.”

There you sat, where just hours ago you were wrapped in blankets with your family, you were now transported to your life with Aaron. Staring into the fire with tears in your eyes.

“It wouldn’t have mattered, Aaron, sometimes finding the love of your life doesn't mean spending the rest of your life with them. It means loving them for the rest of your life, even if that means watching them love someone else.”

You could hear him sigh on the other end of the line, “I never stopped loving you. I won’t ever stop loving you Y/N.”

“I will always love you too Aaron. I think I’m happier now than I ever was with you though. JJ told me you got remarried Agent. Congratulations. I’m sure she's perfect for you.”

“Yeah, pretty much. Her name is Beth, Jack loves her too.”

“I miss him. I’m happy he has someone again. You deserve to be happy Aaron. I forgave you days after. Hell hours even. But I knew that we both needed someone who understood us better. We both deserved that.”

Just then you heard a door creak and the sound of feet pattering towards you, “mama,” Aaron’s voice squeaked out.

“Right here, baby. What's wrong?”

“I heard you talking and wanted to talk with you too.” You laughed a little before putting your phone on speaker and introducing your son to Aaron.

“Well alright, but I think you might need to know his name before you talk to him.” Aaron caught your drift, introducing himself through the phone.

“Hi Aaron, I’ve heard all about you. My name is Aaron too and there is nothing I want more than to talk to you.”

Your little boy perked up at the idea that this man had the same name as him, Aaron was a good sport and talked to him for about 20 minutes before your boy was yawning between every word.

“Say goodnight to Aaron buddy,” he murmured out a small goodnight and was helped back into bed.

“He reminds me of you, I’m sure you know that already.”

“Everyone calls him my clone. Maybe it’s wishful thinking but sometimes I look into his eyes and swear I see you looking back at me Aaron. He’s how I imagined our children would turn out. Perfect in every single way.”

“Your husband is very lucky to have you Y/N. I’ll envy him until the end of time.”

You sensed this was the end of the conversation, you subconsciously wanted to never stop talking to him. That part of you that would always yearn for his comfort when you were breaking down in the bathroom or when you were so over the moon about something at work. You wanted to share those moments with him first. I guess some part of you always would.

“I love you Aaron.”

“I love you too Y/N, goodnight”

“Goodnight Agent.”

#epilouge #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #hotch #hotch fanfiction #hotch x reader

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starsstruck · 4 years

Text

cloudbusting; part two.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. rushed closing shifts, late night grocery shopping, and stolen looks.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language words: 10.9k

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be !)

series masterlist |

a/n: part 2 babyy ! i’m so excited to share this story you have no idea, i really hope everyone enjoys this chapter ! as always i love to hear your thoughts, please share and let me know what you think ! ❣️

Life apparently was one long grocery run.

When you weren’t heading to and from work, you were going to the grocery store. Somehow never able to do one big trip with enough groceries to last you over a week. Even when you tried, you always found yourself heading back a couple nights later for something that was forgotten.

So here you found yourself, after a shift on a Wednesday night, walking through the brightly lit aisles of a nearby supermarket. With a quick stop home to change out of your jeans, to dress in something a bit more fitting for the hot July evening.

Sound of Mitski filling your ears, stopping in the produce section as you filled a cloth bag with a few heads of broccoli.

Harry spotted you nearly immediately. You were observing a zucchini like it was the last vegetable on the planet, eyebrows furrowed and full attention focused on it before you placed it in the basket that was perched in the crook of your arm.

Slowly walking towards you; not wanting to seem like he had been following you through the store, but also wanting to get the chance to talk to you.

His lips twitched as he took in your outfit, some cutoff shorts with a big beige teeshirt loosely tucked into the waistband. He squinted a bit, making out the face of Cher on the back of the shirt.

You had moved from the vegetables to the fruits, picking up a couple of peaches at random to place in your basket. He skirted around the few people in the supermarket, heading to the fruit section as well.

Grabbing a bag of green grapes that were directly across from you, he tried not to look at you.

It took a few seconds, but as you walked over to his side of the section you finally glanced at him. Not fully realizing it was Harry right away, having to whip your head back up again as you found his eyes were already on you.

There was a moment of silent staring, neither saying a word, before you gave him a tentative smile and a small wave.

It wasn’t uncommon that you saw regulars out and about outside of the café. Since you lived closed by, and a lot of regulars were patrons that lived in the neighbourhood. More times than you could count you’d had odd encounters and run-ins.

Sometimes they would recognize you and you wouldn’t know who they were, sometimes they would try and strike up a conversation. The most you usually gave them was a polite smile and maybe a little wave.

But as Harry grinned at you, you found yourself taking out your earphones.

“Hey,” he spoke first, shifting the basket in his hands. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You laughed lightly at his words. “Seem to be seeing a lot of you lately…”

Harry felt his cheeks warm. “I mean –” he stumbled over his words. “Not that much. Considering it’s usually at your work.”

“That’s true,” you mumbled, glancing down at your shopping basket, nearly embarrassed by how much snack food you had rather than food to cook with.

“You didn’t come to the show.”

Looking back up to meet his gaze again, you bit your lips together. “Yeah I – sorry.”

There were a lot of reasons you didn’t go. When he had invited you last week, you told him that you were going to be closing that day so you might not be able to go. Which was fully the truth.

The night of, you had briefly considered it. But you also didn’t really know him at all, and found it maybe a bit weird if you went? Even though he invited you.

“Closing took a while and well – anyway, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he chuckled. “It was a small show, there’s sure to be more.”

“Why do you need to have your art in a small coffee shop?” Asking after a second. “I mean – if you have shows and everything.”

“Just always looking for something new,” he shrugged. “And the gallery is tiny. I technically work there actually, with a few friends.”

“How do you technically work somewhere?”

“I help out as an art prep,” he explained, propping his grocery basket down on the ground by his feet. “It’s probably the least glamorous job you could have at a gallery. It’s just putting up and taking down exhibitions. Measuring where screws go, that kind of thing.”

You only nodded, still a bit unsure of how he fully didn’t work there.

“They don’t usually need the extra help, so more times than most I’m not needed.” He shrugged, likely reading your confusion.

“Okay,” you nodded again. “You know, there might be other cafés around that could help you out as well.”

You watched his eyebrows rise, smile growing. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” laughing, feeling nearly nervous. “Just trying to help out a local artist.”

“Well,” he bent down, picking up his basket. “Thank you. And I guess you’ll have to see my work another time.”

Watching the hint of a sly smile grow on his lips, mirroring it in your own expression. “I guess so.”

There was a pause in conversation. “Are you –” he motioned to the basket perched on your arm. “Are you all done? I was just heading to pay.”

“I – uh,” having the bad habit of never making a list when you shopped, you didn’t really know when to stop with your groceries.

“Yeah I’m all done. I just want to grab a few more fruits.” Mumbling as you glanced around, eyes widening at the prices of the berries.

Harry nodded, as he took as small step back. Not moving from where he stood, waiting as you grabbed a small bunch of bananas. You silently wandered past the sections of citrus fruits, picking up some lemons before deciding that should be enough for your shop today.

Harry followed patiently; at first you hadn’t realized that he was staying back for you so the both of you could head out to checkout together.

“All done,” you smiled at him, feeling oddly endeared that he had waited for you.

Walking side by side to the register, placing your items on the conveyor belt with a divider between you and Harry. After paying and bagging your groceries, you were both strolling out into the heavy evening air, moving your sunglasses from the top of your head down to cover your eyes.

“I’m going this way, where are you headed?” He pointed down the street. The sun was casting an orange glow over the building, making them shine golden.

Turning to Harry, letting your eyes skim over him just the slightest bit. He was wearing loose blue jeans that looked worn, a wide hole on the right knee. A white shirt with light blue writing you didn’t get a chance to read, was loosely tucked in. He always seemed to be nicely dressed, even though all the outfits were seemingly casual.

He also had what looked like a hair clip holding some of his hair out from his face, sitting on the top of his head. You had never seen anyone wear their hair like that, and you were finding yourself a bit curious to how he even thought of doing that in the first place.

“I’m headed that way as well, for a bit.” You replied, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “I live like fifteen minutes away.”

“We’re close to your work,” Harry glanced at you from the corner of his eye, as you both started walking down the street together.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “It’s nice, living so close to work. It’s only a little walk, no need for a drive or transit.”

“That’s good,” he nodded from next to you. “You’re lucky. I’ve had to lug my paintings on the train a few times, it isn’t the most graceful thing.”

“I know you said you wouldn’t show me a picture of your art,” you started, curiosity getting the best of you. “But can you tell me what kind of paintings?”

He was quiet for a second. “Big ones.”

That was all he said for a moment, and you thought that he was done speaking until he cleared his throat again. “With big colours. I like to uh – I get inspired by just almost, anything that catches my eye, if that makes sense. It comes out in like, big colours and shapes.”

You couldn’t really picture what he meant, but you nodded anyway.

“Like,” he continued. “Think of anything you enjoy, or find nice or just have any feeling towards.”

“I –” you weren’t sure what he was asking of you. “I don’t know.”

He laughed, glancing over at you with a wide smile. “It could be anything. Just, first thing that comes to mind.”

Pausing again, before answering. “I like walking along the water. I just – uh, I don’t know, by the docks. I like the smell of the air. Its like, the diesel mixed with something, I don’t know, it’s probably bad for you but. I like it.”

“What colours does it make you think of?”

That oddly made sense. “Blue. Like –” looking around for a blue that properly described the one you had in mind. Finding nearly the same colour on an awning across the street, stopping to point at it. “Like that blue.”

It was a deep but bright colour, darker than a royal blue. It made you think of the way the sky met the water, on a bright sunny day. It made you think of boats that lined the docks, and the smell of the old wood under your feet as you walked along.

You turned back to face Harry. “Is that too obvious of an answer?”

Laughing again, he shook his head. “Its whatever you feel, there are no wrong answers.”

“So what about it?” You asked, once you started walking again. “What about the blue –like, what about the colour that you think of have to do with your art practice?”

“Well,” he paused, eyes facing forward. “I take inspiration from that; I take whatever shape or colour or person or just, whatever. And then I paint it.”

“Okay,” you drew you the word. “Still would help to see your actual paintings though.”

“You could’ve,” he teased. “Missed out on that.”

“Sorry – oh,” you paused, stopping at the corner of the street where you were turning right. “I’m going this way.”

“Okay,” he stopped next to you. “Oh! Are you working tomorrow?”

You bit back your smile. “No, I have two days off in a row actually. I’ll be back on Saturday.”

He smiled, sun beaming behind him. “I’ll see you then. And hey have a good time off.”

“Thank you,” you hummed, waving by to him with your free hand as you turned in the street.

You didn’t know what it was about Harry. He had an energy, if you will, around him that for some reason set you in a good mood. You had also never really struck up any kind of conversation with a customer outside of work like that, other than the few times you had run into Dani, but that didn’t really count.

Turning around to glance at him, seeing him walk in the opposite direction from you. Unable to help feeling slightly curious about the customer who you were quickly getting to know.

Here !

Reading Mae’s text, buzzing her in and unlocking your front door as well, sending her a quick text to come up.

You had spent the entire day doing laundry and tidying up, grabbing the errands that you had forgotten last night. Your apartment had gotten messy over the past couple of weeks, clothes littering the floor of your room as your ever-growing problem of lacking proper storage continued.

So happy that you had two days off in a row, a luxury. You could spend the first day tidying and getting everything done, and the second day doing something fun.

And now after a day of getting your life together, you had your best friend since college, Mae, coming over to make some dinner.

“Hi!”

Hearing her voice call through your small third floor studio, as she let herself in and locked the door behind her. You followed the sound of her voice, watching as she emerged from around the wall and into the kitchen where you were searching for a bottle of wine.

“It’s so clean in here.” She was glancing around, looking at your empty-of-dishes sink and the put away pile of books that usually sat on your table.

“It’s always clean in here,” you smiled at her, finding the wine you were looking for.

“Sure,” she smiled, keeping her laugh at bay as she knew that really wasn’t the truth.

“How was work?”

“Good,” she sighed, dropping her bag on the table, eyeing the bottle of wine you carried. “I think I’m finally getting Jules to like me. Or at least not hate me.”

“I told you, I doubt she ever hated you,” you replied, knowing all about the partner at the firm that was giving her a tough time.

Having met Mae your first year of college; although the two of you didn’t really get to know each other and get close until the second year. She majored in political science, along with you, except that she now just finished up law school and started working at a law firm.

You had always envied those who knew exactly what they wanted their path to be. Whether that path changed or not, you still wanted to have something to work towards.

Mae had always wanted to go into law, with a specialty in environmental policy and that was exactly what she was doing. You, on the other hand, had no idea what to do after getting your degree. Not applying for grad school unlike the majority of your friends, knowing that you would just be wasting your time and money with more school.

You just never really figured out what it was you wanted to do after. It wasn’t so much that you found yourself stuck; it was just that you knew that there was something missing –that life had to have more to it.

“I know,” she sighed, following you to your couch as you carried two glasses in one hand and the wine in the other. “I just feel like she’s been giving me a tough time – a tougher time than the other associates.”

“I mean,” you paused, opening the bottle. “She’s got to know how smart you are. I doubt that she makes anyone work as hard as you, if she doesn’t think you could handle it.”

“I know, you’re right,” she watched as you poured a generous amount of wine into both glasses, before passing her one of them. “And she did tell me that I was her favourite associate to go to.”

“Oh my god,” Mae was always selling herself short. “She very much never hated you.”

“Mm, I know,” Mae repeated, taking a sip of her wine, a smile now on her face. “Anyway, how about you? How’s work?”

“Same,” you shrugged.

There were never big things to report from work, especially to someone who didn’t particularly understand what it meant when a customer would order something ridiculous, or would return their drink because they thought it would be different. “I’m trying to remember crazy customer’s… oh!”

“I had a woman get mad at me yesterday because a man cut in front of her in line – she said that I should’ve been watching the door to see the order of who was coming in.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Mae laughed. “God I really don’t miss working customer service, and having to deal with entitled people like that.”

“It’s the heat,” you pointed to your open window. “Makes people dumber. I know I say this every year, but I swear every summer customers get worse.”

“And oh God,” you continued. “I was also closing with Erinne and she just is the slowest when she cleans the outside. I hate to be too pushy but like – I mean technically I’m her boss, right? I just feel like everything I say to her goes out her head.”

“That’s annoying,” Mae nodded, nearly halfway through her wine. “I know you don’t want to be that manager but you have every right to tell her off.”

“I know,” you took your own sip of wine, smacking your lips together at the slightly sweet flavour. “But I just remember at my old job, when my coworker became the manager and I never really took him seriously.”

“Okay but you’ve been manager ever since you started – and have been there way longer than she has.”

“I just feel almost if I got harsh with her? I’ve never really really gotten mad at anyone.” You thought it over. “But honestly, work is good. It really is the best café I’ve ever worked at.”

It had been too long since the two of you had got a whole evening just the two of you. It was lovely, to say the least.

“Oh! Didn’t you have a date last weekend? How was it?”

You shook your head. “It wasn’t anything, I ended up cancelling.”

“What?” Mae shifted, her legs up on the couch as she turned to face you. “Why?”

Biting your lips together, not really having any true reason for cancelling the date. “I don’t know – I wasn’t that excited in the first place, and he just kind of had an off-putting vibe. We were supposed to go out after my shift was over but it was also just an exhausting day.”

The date would have been with a coworker of Mae’s, one who she had briefly introduced you to but that she didn’t know well herself, as they didn’t directly work together.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have …?”

“Don’t be,” you shook your head, voice light. “Not your fault at all, I just really wasn’t feeling it.”

Your mind drifted, having nearly forgotten about the date that you cancelled over the weekend. You had no energy for it, and no energy to force yourself to like someone you already were sure you wouldn’t hit it off with.

“I get that,” she nodded. “If you don’t feel it you don’t. No use in wasting everyone’s time with someone you’re not excited about.”

“Mm,” you hummed, finishing off your wine. “Though. There is this guy…”

You tried to stop your lips from turning into a smile, hiding half your face in your glass. Mae shifted next to you, waiting for you to continue your story as she knew that look on your face. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed, placing down your glass on the coffee table in front of the couch. “It’s not really anything. He’s been coming into my work a lot lately, flirting with me – or at least I’m pretty sure he is.”

“Oh I’m sure he is,” she nodded. “All your customers are in love with you.”

“They are not,�� you laughed. “I’m just good at my job.”

“Has he ever been there when I’ve been in?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think so. He started coming in a few weeks ago – maybe like a month ago? He wanted to know how he could get his art up on the walls.”

“His art?”

Mae placed her now emptied glass next to yours on the coffee table, as you nodded. “He’s an artist.”

“How old is he?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, around our age, I think. Like 25, 26?”

“What’s his name? I want to see if I can find his Instagram.” She briefly stood, going to grab her phone that was sitting next to her bag on your kitchen counter. Soon returning to sit next to you, unlocking her phone.

“Harry – I don’t know his last name.” You told her. “I don’t know, he kind of seems like he wouldn’t have one.”

Mae glanced up at you as you repositioned yourself next to her so that you could peer over her shoulder. “He’s an artist and it’s 2020. I’m sure he has one. Plus, I’m sure it’s on public.”

You watched her type in ‘Harry’ into the Instagram explore search bar, the simplest of tasks that of course brought her results inconclusive as he didn’t know people she knew.

“Do you know anything else?” She asked, after looking at the profiles of the first ‘Harry’s’ that the search result brought up.

“No,” you thought for a second. “Oh! One second.”

You remembered the small slip of paper he had given you, with the name of the gallery that he had art up at. It might be another dead end, but it was all you had.

“Here,” you called, after finding the small crumpled slip at the bottom of your bag. “He had some art at this gallery.”

Watching over Mae’s shoulder as she grabbed the slip from you, typing in the name of the gallery. Easily finding their Instagram page, scrolling through the first few pictures for anything that would help her search.

“Is this him?” She spoke after a moment, calling your attention away from the wine that you were searching for again and back to her phone.

You squinted at her screen, watching her thumb swipe over a series of photos, one of which had an image of Harry. He was standing next to two paintings, ones you assumed were his. His hands were behind his back, small smile on his face with some baggy white pants and a loose shirt tucked into the waistband, and the same scuffed Vans he always wore.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you hummed, watching as Mae tapped the picture to see if he was tagged in it.

Success in seeing that he was, going over to his page. Mae was right, it was public.

She scrolled for a bit, going past rows of what you assumed was his art. Some fully finished paintings, some close ups, some sketches in pencil crayon. She stopped once she found a picture, three rows down, of him standing in the sunshine with yellow tinted sunglasses on, an open sketchbook held up in his hands.

Tapping on the picture, enlarging it on her screen as she scrolled down a bit to read the caption. “This is him?”

You nodded again. “Yes.”

She glanced away from her phone, up to meet your eyes. Saying your name quickly, with a little laugh. “He’s so cute. I thought you said all the guys who hit on you at work were old and gross.”

“I mean,” you slid in to sit next to her. “They are. He’s not really hitting on me though. I just kind of have the feeling he’s into me, you know how it is? I don’t know.”

She nodded. “Usually when you suspect it, it’s true though, isn’t it? Flirt with him, see what happens.”

You nodded, lip between your teeth, knowing that she was right. Mae glanced back at her phone, before handing it over to you so that you could further inspect his Instagram. “And seriously, he’s really fucking cute.”

She got up from next to you, tapping your thigh with her now free hand. “I’m going to chop veggies for dinner, you keep looking.”

You only laughed absentmindedly at her comment, although not protesting as she moved to start making dinner for the night. Swiping away from the picture of Harry, scrolling through his feed. Most pictures were of his art, some single pictures, some had multiple one’s together in the post.

Reading over his username, harrystylesart. You briefly wondered if that was his real name or just one he used.

Looking at recent posts first, seeing images of pages out of a sketchbook, orange and red shapes drawn across a white page. Swiping through the post, you saw another image of the same book, this time the picture taken from a bit further away. You immediately recognized the slightly worn wooden table, and corner of the familiar little blue mug.

The drawing itself was of something nondescript, the same oranges and reds, this time with blue outlined as well. You tried to make out what it was, but assumed it was just mindless sketching. Your recalled what Harry had told you, about how he liked to use a lot of colour – this must be his process.

Still, you felt oddly happy that he had taken these pictures at your work.

You kept up with your snooping, looking through pictures of his paintings. He was right, about them being big and colourful. Some seemed to have just odd shapes, some had people, some seemed to include places or buildings.

You kind of wished that you understood them, that you knew why he was making these. All his captions were of very few words, most with no captions at all.

That being said, you found yourself genuinely really liking them. Some in particular, just held a specific feeling that you really enjoyed. You didn’t know anymore than that, you just liked to look at them.

“Find anything else?” Mae asked you, once you had shut off her phone and joined her in the kitchen.

“Nothing big,” you hummed, grabbing a pan from under the counter. “I don’t know, I’ll see. Like I said, it’s just a suspicion. Maybe I’m also a bit bored, it has been a while since I’ve been excited about someone.”

Mae nodded along with you, waving her knife in the air as if to point to you. “That’s true too, it is really fun when you start to have a little thing – I almost miss that.”

She had been in a relationship for nearly three years now. “You do not,” you scoffed.

“Okay,” she paused. “Maybe not. Dating is fun but also kind of awful. But seriously, it is nice to be excited about someone.”

“Never said I was excited,” you hummed, though you knew she saw right through you.

“Okay,” she drew out the word, clearly unconvinced. “But remember that last guy you dated? He was no fun. What was his name?”

“Ross,” you wrinkled your nose at the memory. “Yeah he wasn’t great.”

Mae nodded. “You never even told me about him until the end.”

You had a habit of not always telling your friends about your dating life. Sometimes you would fill them in on every gory detail, and other time you would briefly mention that you started seeing someone but it had fizzled.

It was also very telling about how the dates had been – one’s you were excited about were usually heard of right away.

To Mae, it seemed like you dated a lot, but that was also because she had mostly been in longer term relationships. You thought you dated a normal amount -- you often found yourself saying yes, when people were interested because you told yourself that you never knew what could come of it.

“I’ll come in to your work soon,” Mae continued, changing the subject. “I haven’t been in a while, like to properly sit down. Plus, I want to see this guy.”

“I’m back on Saturday, working right through until Thursday.”

Mae thought over he own schedule. “I have Monday off, and it’s usually calmer then too right?”

“Yeah, it should be quiet. Monday,” you paused, remembering there was something particular about that day. “Oh, I’m closing alone then. Everyone has been taking their vacation at once. But you can stay with me for closing if you want, we could get dinner afterwards.”

“Perfect! I’ll bring all my work to get done, and yes dinner sounds lovely.”

The bliss of your days off ended, and the chaos of the weekend shifts followed. The weekend was always a bit crazy – sometimes you lucked out and it was oddly empty but this was no lucky weekend.

By the time Monday rolled around, you were already tired. And it was only the third day in a stretch of a full week of work with no days off.

At least you were working the closing, offering you a small chance to sleep in as you didn’t have to get into work until the early afternoon, although the downside of today’s shift however, was that you were going to be closing alone.

Mae came into work with you, bringing stacks of paperwork with her to the café to work on.

It was about an hour after Mae had arrived, that you saw Harry coming through the side window. He was just reaching to open up the door, and you were trying to catch Mae’s attention to subtly tell her that the guy she had helped you find online was about to come in.

When Harry walked in, he saw you walking over to the front corner and sit yourself on a chair across from someone else.

He kept walking, seeing your attention pulled away as it was obvious you really knew the person you were chatting with. He heard your laugh ring out through the café from behind him, as he spotted his open table in the back and situated himself there.

Not going up to the counter until he saw you behind it again, waiting a couple minutes as you seemed to be taking a tiny break with who he assumed was your friend. Eventually though, he slowly walked to the front until he was standing across from you at the counter.

“Hi,” you called, from where you stood a bit further back, rearranging clean cups under the counter. “What can I get for you today?”

“Over ice, thank you.”

He watched you pause with a little nod, as you didn’t bother to put the order into the system right away and instead moved further back to the espresso machine to make his drink. He left some change on the counter by the till, sliding it far enough in so that you couldn’t miss it.

He walked around the counter until he was on the other side of the espresso machine, seeing half of you hidden to him as you prepared his drink.

“Sorry if that was weird, in the grocery store the other day.”

He watched you peek out from around the machine. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Must be kind of odd to see a regular from your work outside of that setting.”

“A bit,” you smiled. “But not that much. You’d be surprised by how often I run into customers.”

“Really?” His eyebrows rose. “What’s the worst place you’ve even seen a regular?”

“Nothing really that bad. Sometimes it is a bit weird when I’m at their place of work. Like there’s a woman who bartends at Corner Stone, who also comes here a lot – its like we’re each other’s regulars.”

He saw your eyebrows furrow slightly, as if trying to think of some other occurrences you had had outside of work. “Oh! This doesn’t really count as seeing someone, but I’ve found customers on Tinder before.”

“Really? Ever match with any of them?” He bit his lips together, feeling the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“God no. I never used it that much anyway.” You said, laughing lightly. He briefly wondered if you had done it on purpose, mentioning something like that to him. But he had to tell himself that you were really just answering his question.

You had just finished up making his drink, placing it on the counter in front of him and tapping it lightly against the marble as you usually did.

“Why do you always do that?”

“What?” You blinked back at him.

“You always tap the cup on the counter like that.”

“Oh,” you smiled, small shrug in your shoulders. “It’s a habit. It’s to knock out any little air bubbles from when the espresso pours. If the pour is really smooth, there shouldn’t really be any. It doesn’t matter as much when it’s over ice though, since the ice gets in the way.”

“You do this with all drinks?”

“No,” you replied. “I mean with hot milk drinks you need to smooth out the air from the milk bubbles. And before preparing them you also tap out the milk, and the espresso – again if there are bubbles.”

“All about presentation, isn’t it?”

“Exactly,” he warmed at the laugh that shook your chest. “When it looks nice it tastes nice too.”

He took a small sip of the cold drink. “I don’t think you’ve ever made me a bad cup of coffee.”

“Glad to hear that.”

The two of you both turned your heads at the same time, at the sound of the door closing shut. A group of three women had just come in, chatting loudly as they all made their way to the front counter.

“I got to –” you pointed your thumb in their direction.

“Of course,” he nodded, watching as you turned away from him. Your hand moved down to your back pocket, tapping over your bum lightly as if searching for something in your pocket. He saw you pull out that red pen you always carried, twirling it between your index and middle finger as you went to stand by the till.

Coffee in hand, Harry walked around the counter and back to his to the table where he had left his things.

You eyed Mae while the group wanting to order continued to read the menu, watching her mouth something you could barely make out. She tilted her chin up, nodding her head towards where Harry had gone to sit.

Shaking your head with a light laugh, not sure what she was trying to tell you. You didn’t have time to find you either, as the woman standing closest to the till interrupted you silent conversation. “We’re ready to order.”

Not getting the change to talk to Harry again until a few hours later, right before closing. You saw him standing by the counter, empty cup in hand that he gently placed into the nearly overflowing buss bin.

“Thank you,” you hummed, walking past him on the opposite side of the counter as you started sweeping the inside. There seemed to be more grounds on the floor today than usual.

“Not a problem,” he grinned. “You seem to be everywhere tonight, I swear I just saw you going back to the washrooms.”

“A lot more to do tonight, since it’s just me closing.” You emptied out the dustbin into the garbage can, deciding that you were done sweeping for the day – hoping that the muck left over on the floor would come out with the mop.

“What do you mean it’s just you?”

You glanced around, as if you hadn’t been alone this entire time. Grabbing the dish bin that was sitting between the two of you, walking to grab whatever was left to be cleaned. Harry followed your motions, from the other side of the counter.

“I’m working alone…” you started slowly. “Usually we have two people close together, but we’re short staffed right now. Today and next week it’s just me.”

“That’s no fun,” he said, looking around and seeing nearly all empty tables now.

“Closing isn’t usually that fun,” you laughed, gathering everything that could be sent through the dishwasher. “It just takes a lot longer when I’m alone.”

“I can imagine cleaning must take a while.” He glanced around, looking at all the floor space that needed to be swept then mopped.

“It’s okay,” you shrugged, grabbing your buss bin. “I get paid by the hour, not on salary so I’ll get a bit of overtime in there.”

He only nodded, and your eyes flicked over to the clock hanging on the wall across from you. “I mean this in the nicest way possible but we are now closed.”

Harry followed your eyes to look up at the clock as well, before glancing back at you. “Are you kicking me out?”

“Yes, I am,” nodding with a chuckle, watching him walk over to where his things still sat on a table, gathering them up. Moving the dish bin to the back to fill up the dishwasher, wiping your wet hands on your jeans to go lock the door after Harry leaves.

“You know I’m not the last one here,” he said to you from where he stood, after your reappeared from the back room. He pointed over to where Mae sat at a front table, bent over an array of papers. She didn’t really seem like she was reading them though, her eyes briefly landing on yours when you looked over.

“She gets to stay with me,” you grinned, walking out from behind the counter. “We’re grabbing dinner after.”

“Nice of you to not make her wait outside.”

You laughed, walking to the front door to hold it open as the last thing to do before ushering Harry outside.

You hadn’t noticed he had come up behind you, arm brushing past you. His hand wrapped around yours on the door handle, taking you by surprise the slightest bit, as he was suddenly so close behind you.

“Oh –” muttered under your breath, taking a step back to move away, but your back only hit Harry’s chest as he had you more or less boxed in. “Sorry.”

Your hand slipped away from between the metal of the handle and the warmth of Harry’s hand, trying to slip out from your closeness to the door to give him space to walk out. Slightly propping it open, deciding to move outside and hold it open from the outside.

Glancing up at him, feeling warmth creep up your skin at the awkwardness of the moment, meeting his eyes with your lips bit between your teeth.

“Sorry,” Harry repeated to you, pushing the door all the way open to walk out. You didn’t miss the red tint on his cheeks, and the way his eyes flicked away from yours so quickly you barely got to hold his gaze.

“Have a good rest of your day,” you smiled, giving him a small wave as you decided to quickly move past whatever moment you had found yourself stuck in.

“I’ll see you,” he flashed that wide smile of his, showing off the dimples that appeared as he brought a hand up to move his sunglasses from the top of his head to lay perched on his nose.

You waved when he turned away, walking down the street away from where you were now closing the door and locking it shut.

Mae who had risen from where she was sitting was now slowly walking over to the counter, leaning her elbows on top of it while she waited for you to join her side.

She had a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth, bottom lip lodged between her teeth as if it was nearly impossible for her to keep her mouth shut.

You only laughed at her expression, shaking your head slightly when you walked past her, giving her a little swat with the back of your hand.

“What?” She calls out after you’ve left her alone again, heading to the back to load the last bit of dishes into the dishwasher. “I didn’t say a word.”

“I know what you’re thinking!” You called as you rinsed off old mugs, the traces of coffee now dried to the ceramic.

Double checking that there was nothing left to be sent through, closing the door and pressing the button for the hot water and soap to start cleaning the dishes for the last time of the day.

Emerging out in the open again, on the opposite side of the counter from Mae. You knew there was still mopping left to do outside, but you wanted to get the cash out done first and out of the way.

Mae was silent again, unmoving from her spot as she watched you dump out the coins from the tip jar as you began to lay them out to easily count them. You concentrated for a bit, making small piles of four with your quarters.

“He’s really into you,” she finally said, waiting for you to look back up at her.

You kept your head dipped down, eyes on the counter where all the coins and bills sat to be counted. Biting your lips together as you again found yourself unable to help the slight smile building.

“I know,” you finally uttered, sending her a quick glance with a laugh at her expression.

“He’s even better looking in person.”

“I know,” you repeated, eyes focused downwards at the coins that you were quickly counting. “Now shush! I don’t want to lose count.”

It was the same thing the following week, as it always was. You had your days off, got groceries, ran errands. The weekend was crazy, that was again to be expected especially with the particularly nice weather. Dani had been away, so you hadn’t seen him in about a week.

The week had been just as busy as the previous one, the hot days of late July making more and more people come in for some nice cooled iced drinks. It was a bit crazy to you, how quickly your weeks went by when all you would do was look forward to your days off.

The following Monday, it was nice to have your slow and steady shift again. You had to close alone once more, but this would be the last time as some staff were going to be back from their summer vacation so you would be fully staffed once again.

The afternoon had gone by very slowly, nearly too slow, that you had just been mindlessly cleaning all day. It was good, in a way, because it meant that there would be less cleaning to be done later that evening once the doors were locked and you would be left to finish up alone.

Another commonality with your Monday shift is that Harry was routinely there. Situated in that back corner table he always seemed to get, bag on the chair across from him and things spread out in front of him. You had been too preoccupied with all your reorganizing and cleaning to properly chat with him today. But a small part of you also wanted to see if he would come to you.

Nothing really interesting happened, though, until you were getting ready to start even more closing cleaning and you were passing by his table with a broom in hand.

Sweeping under the empty table across from him first, before moving closer to where he was sitting and letting your eyes wander from the floor to the table, catching a glance at his sketchbook.

It was similar to what you had seen on his Instagram, only this time he had several drawings that were distinctly people.

“Hey,” he suddenly spoke, pulling your attention away from his book and over to where he was now looking at you. “I can see you snooping.”

“Oops,” you shrugged, feigning sheepishness. “I told you, I like to try and figure out the lives of customers. That comes with looking over their shoulder at what they do.”

“Have you figured out the lives of everyone sitting here now?” You didn’t miss how he changed the subject.

“Of course.”

“I think I have too,” he hummed, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest as he gazed up at you.

“I see most of these people a few times a week – I think I have a bit more dirt on them than you.” Placing your broom to lean against the wall behind you, making sure it didn’t fall before crossing your arms over your chest.

The shop was nearly empty by this point, but you knew that almost every customer currently sitting at a table had been in here at least once a week.

“What about those two?” He pointed with his chin, nodding his head in the direction of the couple sitting in the back, across from where Harry was. “Do you think its a date, like a new relationship? Or a longer term thing.”

“Oh,” you hummed, having seen those two at least twice a week for the past couple months. “They’ve been dating for at least a year. Minimum.”

“Okay,” he drew out the word, nodding as he agreed with you. “What about those two?” The only other couple was across the shop on the other side, sitting on the big plushy chairs that Dani always sat at. You had never seen them before.

“I would say,” you paused, trying to observe their body language as you stood back with your hands in the back pockets of your jeans. “Second or third date. They’re still sitting across from each other and have nothing else with them to work on – but they seem just touchy enough. Coffee was probably a last-minute idea, but for sure not the first date.”

Looking back at Harry, finding him still watching you. “You really thought about that one, huh.”

“I told you –” eyes flicking back to the couple in question. “I like to figure out people’s lives. Seeing people on coffee dates is always fun. They’re usually always first or new dates, or in long-term relationships.”

“Coffee dates are easy first dates,” Harry murmured, nodding his head. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you saw a lot of them.”

You thought it over for a second. “I guess I do, yeah. Easy for nervous couples.”

“Can’t imagine you like getting coffee on a first date.”

“Not really,” you said, not missing a beat. Eyes slightly narrowing on him, lips curving, as you silently wondered where he was going with this conversation. “Unless they don’t know what my job is.”

“What about just getting coffee – like not as a first date – is that okay?”

You bit your lips together, eyes briefly leaving his. “Of course.”

He smiled. “Done that recently?”

Was he trying to see if you were single? “No, not recently,” you hummed, eyes flicking back to his.

You only broke his gaze for a second as you watched him pull his bottom lip between his teeth, grin breaking the corners of his mouth. Neither of you spoke for a moment, eyes locked in a little staring contest.

He was the first to look away, clearing his throat as he angled his head towards the front door. “I think I’m keeping you from customers.”

Your attention was pulled away from him, watching a group of four walk in through the door, glancing up at the menu hanging behind the register.

Shooting him one more quick look, before sauntering off to go slid in behind the counter. Hands still placed in the back pocket of your jeans, grabbing the pen that was in one of them as you went to take their order.

After that group there seemed to be another, and another. It wasn’t busy, per se, just steady. And since you were alone, it gave the feeling of being a bit busier since there was no one else there to help you pull shots, or take orders.

Still, slowly customers petered out and there were only a few people left sitting around the café. You had already cleaned the majority of the espresso machine, cleaning out the portafilters and clearing the grounds that collected at the bottom.

Dishes had been constantly running, and you just grabbed the broom to start sweeping the emptier half of the café so that once you were closed, the cleaning wouldn’t take long.

“Closing soon,” you hummed, as you passed by Harry’s table with the broom in hand once more.

“I know, I know, don’t worry.” He put down his pencil, his pause in movement causing you to stop by his table for a second. “You’re closing alone again today, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you breathed, eyes flicking to the clock.

“And you don’t have you friend here to keep you company like last time.”

“I don’t,” you bit your lips together.

He shifted a bit in his chair, feet flat on the ground with one arm placed over the back of the chair as he twisted his body to face you. “Do you, uh –” he paused, flipping his pencil between his fingers. “Do you need any company?”

“What are you suggesting?” You felt the corner of your lips perk to a sly smile.

“If you want,” he quickly started, sitting up straighter. “I could keep you company.”

There was another pause, neither of you speaking for a moment.

But you found yourself nodding to his request. “It’s not that interesting, just me running around cleaning, and counting coins. But I mean – if you want to.”

He nodded along with you. “’Course I do. Plus. I really like this space to work in, it’s inspiring and all that.”

“Okay,” you slowly spoke the word. “But you’re going to have to lift your feet later so I can sweep under your table.”

“Will do.”

You moved past him after that, head still lowered as you swept under the tables across from where Harry sat, moving your little pile of dust and dirt into the dustbin. Busying yourself, since you actually were busy, trying not to smile after your conversation with Harry.

Soon you were ushering the rest of the customers out, the clock hitting seven and the doors being locked. You brought in the patio furniture after fully sweeping and mopping one side of the café, the side that Harry was not sitting at.

The inside cleaning was all nearly done, beans put away, espresso machine fully cleaned and counter wiped down. You were just starting to sweep the second half of the shop, nearly done with the cleaning before you could cash out.

“I can help, if you need.”

Harry had remained fairly quiet after the doors were locked with the two of you still inside. Just as he said, he was still perched over his table with pencils in hand and book open in front of him. You were too busy to really stop by and see what he was doing, assuming he was working on those sketches you had seen when you were spying on his Instagram.

“I’m not paying you,” you teased, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “But seriously, you don’t have to.”

“I can – if you want. I’m bugging you enough, may as well help.”

“I thought you wanted to feel the space, or something? Getting inspired? But really – it’s okay. I’m nearly done here and just need to cash out.”

He paused for a second, before nodding. “Okay, okay. Well I’m here if you need me.”

Conversation stopped there again, for a while at least. You cleaned the washroom, finished mopping all floors and dumped out the dirty water. After all the big cleaning was done, you made yourself a nice cold iced tea in a to go cup that you would take home afterwards.

Grabbing a chair from the back room and bringing it up to the till to sit down while you cashed out, dumping out all the coins and bills from the tip jar first. Counting in silence, not having noticed how Harry had moved tables and was now seated across from you instead of in the back.

“It’s different after closing.”

You glanced up from where you had rows of quarters lined on the counter, trying to not loose your count. “I mean,” you spoke, only after writing down the amount you calculated. “It’s the same – but calmer. Or sometimes more stressful, depending on the day, and who I close with. It’s for sure not as nice as being here alone in the morning.”

You saw Harry nod. “I really like the mornings.”

“You mentioned that,” you hummed, beginning the dreaded task of counting up the smaller coins.

He fell quiet again, watching you quickly move the coins from the counter to the register, counting under your breath while you worked. He didn’t want to distract you and have to start all over again, instead deciding to pull his attention back to his sketch book.

Flipping his pencil between his fingers a couple times, listening to the coins clacking overlapped with the soft sounds of whatever song was playing – he didn’t know it. Finding himself drawing small things he saw around the shop; the way the mugs were stacked, the way the leaves on a plant fell to one side, the way there always seemed to be umbrellas shoved in the vase out front even though it hadn’t rained in weeks.

And then he found his eyes falling back to you; the line that formed between your brows as you focused on counting, the way you sat with one leg tucked under the other, the small movement of your lips as you spoke under your breath.

He hadn’t fully realized he was colouring in the curve of your cheeks until he caught himself unable to stop looking up at you. Using the only pencil crayons he brought with him, colouring you in with two shades of blue.

Starting your outline over again and again, each time focusing on a different part of you that he could see. Squinting as he drew the soft curve of your eyelashes, and then the rise of your hairline, and the dip of skin from your neck until the soft green colour of your shirt started below your collarbones.

After a couple minutes in silence, your sudden movement from where you were sitting brought his attention back up to you, watching as you walked away from the till to the back, quickly coming back with a little baggy in hand.

He shut his sketchbook with the pencils still resting between the pages, rising to his feet with a little push back of his chair. The noise brought your attention to him for a second, eyes flicking between him and your task at hand.

“You did that fast,” he hummed, leaning his elbows down on the counter across from you. You were bagging the counted money, writing down the amounts of the day. Harry tried to not let his eyes linger on your hands. Not wanting to seem like he was spying on how much money you had made in a day, when he was really watching the way you were gently gripping the pen that was being swiveled between your fingertips.

“You learn a few tricks over the years to make it go faster,” you murmured, zipping shut your baggies that would be placed in the safe for the night.

Once you were all done, the only thing left was one last load of dishes to run through before you could close for the night.You began to wait for the dishes to clean, you were suddenly aware of how quiet the space was around you and Harry, the soft music of Mazzy Star creating a dreamy atmosphere.

You also realized you had no real reason for letting Harry stay past closing – it wasn’t like the two of you were doing anything afterwards. But you also knew that you were maybe expecting something, and just maybe the two of you would be doing something together once you were off work.

Bringing the dish rack filled with clean steaming dishes to the front counter, letting them drip dry for a bit before you started to put them away.

Harry was tentatively walking over to where you were, not completely crossing the invisible line that separated the inside to the outside of the café, but pushing it enough.

“Sure you don’t need a hand?” He asked, once he was leaning against the counter that the dishes were sitting on.

“I told you, I can’t pay you for any of it,” you joked. “But really, it’s okay. I’m nearly done.”

He only nodded, watching as you looped your fingers through the handles of mugs to carry more of them at once.

You wondered really what Harry had to gain from watching you finish up your closing shift. You knew he said he liked the space of the café, that it inspired him. Whether that was bullshit or not, you didn’t mind his company.

Still slightly curious about how he was spending all his time at your work, and how he didn’t seem to have anything else going on at the moment other than watching you put away still steaming hot dishes.

“I know you said you kind of work at that gallery,” you started. “But I mean – and I don’t mean this in a bad way but, don’t you have another job? Like not a 9 to 5 but, I don’t know. You’re here weekday’s and weekends, sometimes early and sometimes late.”

Pausing, not sure if you were properly vocalizing the small curiosities you had about Harry. “You know I like trying to figure out the lives of customers but – I mean what do you do?”

He was silent for a bit, and a first you thought you had made a bit of an idiot of yourself but you saw the small tug at the corner of his lips, indicating a smile.

“I’ve been telling you,” he finally said, eyes gleaming when he looked at you. “I’m an artist. That is my 9 to 5. I manage to get some small jobs here and there to make some extra money, but so far I’ve been able to make a living. Get’s a bit tough sometimes but lately I’ve been managing to get a slow and steady stream of commissions.”

You felt a bit bad, nearly dumb for asking. “What kind of small jobs?”

“Well,” he leant against the counter across from you. “Some art handling at galleries. I taught a few classes, probably not very well, at a community centre. Just small things to make some money on the side. But like I said, being an artist is my 9 to 5.”

“Oh,” the word sounded so small in response. “That’s really cool. I mean that, that’s just … really cool.”

You didn’t know why you found yourself so lost for words. He had explained it to you so casually, so nonchalant about following what he wanted.

Picking up the now empty dish tray, bringing it to the back. You didn’t pay that close attention to what you were doing, quickly rinsing it out and turning off the dishwasher. Your mind was wandering, Harry’s words running through your head over and over.

Not realizing it at first, but when you dipped your head down to make sure the dishwasher was properly drained, your vision went a bit blurry. There were small tears pricking at your eyes, building at your waterline and threatening to spill over.

Quickly tilting your head back as if the tears would fall back into their ducts, dabbing the skin under your eyes with the back of your hand.

There was no real reason for the sudden tears that appeared, you knew that. It was probably a culmination of too many busy days of not enough rest. But another small voice was telling you something else, and you knew exactly why you were crying.

But for now, you couldn’t indulge your thoughts too much since you knew that would only open the gates for more tears to come. Shaking your head, pulling out your phone from your pocket to use as a makeshift mirror to make sure the whites of your eyes weren’t shining red.

Keeping your head down a bit as you walked out, avoiding Harry’s gaze. Grabbing your cup filled with iced tea you had made for yourself before cashing out, taking a long sip as if more hydration would make you look as if you hadn’t been crying.

Silently checking over that everything was all ready for the opening shift tomorrow morning. Heading to the iPad to clock out, closing the POS for the day.

“I’m all done,” you finally spoke while heading to the back room for the last time, making sure the fridge door was properly shut before grabbing your bag and keys to leave for the day.

Waiting by the alarm system when you gathered all your things, watching over your shoulder as Harry stood by the door with his own bag. Punching in the security code to set the alarm for the night, hearing the paced beeping that started and alerted the time you had to walk out and lock the door.

He propped the front door open for you, holding it open before waiting while you locked it shut, double checking it was properly closed.

“I just have to…” you muttered under your breath, heading in the opposite direction to the other side of the café. There was an emergency exit in the back, that usually remained lock but sometimes someone would unlock it and forget to close it again, so you always made sure to check.

The door didn’t budge when you pulled on it, finding it properly closed. You met up with Harry again, avoiding his gaze as you kept your eyes trained down on the pavement under your feet.

You knew there had been a big and sudden shift in your mood, but you couldn’t think of any reason to explain it so you simply remained silent.

But, you also didn’t want to start explaining why you were suddenly crying.

“Which way are you headed?”

“Uhm,” you had to think for a second, although you took the same path every single day. “This way.”

Pointing ahead in the direction you would walk down before turning over to the block your apartment was on. Harry hummed next to you, beginning the walk by your side.

Remaining quiet for the first couple minutes, keeping your eyes more or less downcast. Knowing you probably didn’t have the best energy to be around right now, and not even wanting to bother with any kind of small talk.

“Are you alright?”

Lost in your own head, you had almost forgotten about Harry walking next to you in the cooling air of the city. You turned to him for a brief moment, eyes flitting over his before looking forward again.

“Yeah I – I’m just tired. Long couple of days.”

Before Harry got a chance to speak, you realized that you need to turn onto your block. “I’m going here – I’ll see you around.”

You turned the block, stopping for barely a second as Harry uttered a small “See you,” before you walked the opposite direction of him.

Pace picking up as you wanted nothing more than to be home at the moment, quickly walking the rest of the way home.

Finally closing your door behind you, not caring where your bag ended up on the floor and going to immediately crack open a window, airing out the stuffy apartment. You busied yourself with lighting a stick of sandalwood incense, letting the smoke slowly blow out the window, the smell starting to fill the room.

It wasn’t until you went to change into a sweatshirt and shorts, catching a glance of your appearance in the mirror when you suddenly felt tears well up again. Reaching for your phone, deciding that if you were going to wallow in your sudden sadness that you should have a soundtrack for it.

Pouring yourself a glass of wine, knowing you should make something to eat as well but not having the energy for it at the moment.

You only took one sip of the drink before placing it back down on the counter, feeling small tears fall from the corner of your eyes. Wiping under your face with the back of your sleeve, knowing more tears were to come.

The sudden cry had come out a bit out of no where. It sometimes was like that, the unexpected surge of tears that suddenly needed to fall from your eyes.

What surprised you, was that it was triggered by what Harry told you. Him telling you that his work as an artist was his 9 to 5 job, that he was following what he always wanted to do and was so far able to get by.

It was similar to the way you felt with Mae, sometimes. The two of you had graduated with the same degrees, but she was following her dream while you had the same job you held all throughout college. Sure, maybe the location of the job was different, and this time you were manager, but it still felt like the same job.

It wasn’t that you felt unfulfilled in life, and you did really like your job. It was just that there was sure to be more – this couldn’t be it for the rest of your life.

And the small, snarky comment from family or even customers didn’t help. You had had customers ask you if you were just working there “for now” and if it was “some place you were trying to get out of.” It was condescending really, and you always politely smiled at them and told them no, but it never helped with feeling not good enough.

So sitting with your wine, and a little cry, was very much what you needed right now.

#please share and let me know what you think <3 #and i hope everyone enjoys !!!! <33 #cb #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic

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brockadoodles · 4 years

Text

sydämellinen (warm) - m. rantanen

AN: SURPRISE BITCHES HERE’S A CHRISTMAS FIC. I wrote this little thing specifically for @hockeyboysiguess. So Merry Christmas in November, my dear. I hope you love it. It might be some of the softest content I’ve ever written, for a boy I don’t even go here for. So let me know what you think.

*Also if any of the Finnish is wrong, I apologize, I don’t speak Finnish rip.

Word Count: 2362

Warnings: None

Christmas traditions were something that you never quite understood until you weren’t at home anymore to have them. Growing up, you had never considered the things that your family did around the holidays as monumental or special traditions, oftentimes you felt boring and inadequate when asked about them. Your mom, your dad, and you, that was all you had, and the holidays seamlessly came and went each year. Sure, a tree would get decorated, there would be some sort of family dinner, but nothing felt magical or special like the holidays were always made out to be. Everything in your world felt stagnant until you met him.

Mikko Rantanen adored everything about the holidays, it was part of growing up for him. Christmas in Finland was no debatably the largest celebration in the country all year, every year. He found extravagant light displays enticing, and the warm smell of Christmas ham comforting. To him, there was nothing more memorable than his childhood memories of Christmas with his family, the traditions held strong each year, traditions that he packed up and took with him when he moved away for his career. His Christmases changed from large family gatherings to small close-knit nights with the few teammates and friends who also didn’t go back home for the holidays, attempting at recreating that fleeting feeling of home that he desperately missed. A feeling that he hadn’t felt since he was young until he met you.

Mikko knew you never cared for the holidays, he realized this on your first date, a cold, snowy evening in November. He watched as you sat there in the soft candlelight, face twisting slightly at the mention of what both of you were doing for Christmas that year. When Mikko lit up at the mention of the holidays and started telling you about his traditions from home, you tried to hide your distaste. You tried to hide the sinking feeling in your stomach, the one that was pulling you down into a self-deprecating mess sitting at a far too nice restaurant with a far too expensive-looking meal in front of you, waiting for this person as wonderful as Mikko to realize that you weren’t worth sharing his traditions with. Mikko noticed though because Mikko noticed everything about you, even the things you hopelessly tried to protect him from. He noticed it all because that’s what happens when you love someone as much as Mikko fell in love with you.

The first Christmas, you had a reasonable excuse for not seeing him. Your parents had insisted on a Christmas spent in Aspen, a three and a half-hour drive from Denver that acted as your barrier from Mikko and his Christmas traditions, something that was overwhelming so early on in your relationship. You simply packed up a bag, driving your old car through the mountains, and spent Christmas sitting in front of a fire in a far too expensive resort town, no Christmas tree in sight and nothing but an unread text from your boyfriend to keep you company.

The second Christmas together, his schedule is what kept you apart, with the Avalanche getting the unlucky Christmas Eve game out in New York. A schedule that would have him sitting wide awake on a redeye flight after a 6-0 shutout loss back to his condo alone in Denver with a heavy and longing heart, knowing that he needed to give you space during Christmas but also desperately wanting to share his favorite holiday with his favorite person. Instead, he spent the holiday alone on his couch, his texts to you left on read and a cold cup of miso soup on his coffee table as he wished for the day to pass.

By your third Christmas with Mikko, you knew it was time to actually spend the holiday together, to swallow your feelings and make an effort to learn the traditions of the man you had come to love over the last two years. A diamond ring sat nestled on your left hand, unfinished wedding plans for the following Summer in Finland, and a hole between you when it came to the holidays that you were finally ready to fill.

“Mikko?” You murmured into his shoulder, your lips pressing soft and slow kisses down his skin, your legs tangled with his own, a warmth nestled between you that made your stomach fill with butterflies, even after all this time together.

“Mhm, kultaseni?” The Finnish pet name running from his lips effortlessly, a term of endearment that made you blush every time. You kissed his shoulder once more, letting your fingers dance along the bare skin of his arm as you breathed a sigh that you didn’t know you were holding.

“Will you share your Christmas traditions with me?”

Mikko had to take a moment to make sure he heard you correctly, to make sure that the mechanisms of his brain that were translating English into Finnish as you spoke were working as they should. When he looked down at you, he saw something in your eyes that he didn’t recognize in all the years that you had been together. He saw, for the first time, a fleck of excitement about the holidays, and he wasn’t going to be the one passing that up for anything.

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair, pressing a soft trail of kisses down your temple and lingering there for a moment, before he slowly adjusted his arm, rolling his body to hover over yours as he properly kissed you for the millionth time, but the first of that morning. The two of you stayed like that for a while, comfort nestling into your heart with each kiss that he gave, and each touch you felt. You were hopelessly, and entirely in love with Mikko Rantanen, and for the first time in your life, the idea of a Christmas tradition didn’t seem so bad.

Mikko knew he had to start slow with the traditions, he didn’t want to give you too much and have you pull yourself back from the idea. He wanted this to be a good experience for you, and if it took giving you one minuscule detail at a time for you to re-wire the part of your brain that associated Christmas with your parents that were somehow still together, yet should have been divorced, and a lack of lights and warmth into a special time for you and him, he would. Mikko Rantanen would have made the snowmelt in Denver for you if he could, because he loved you, as much as someone is capable of loving another person. And all he wanted for Christmas was to give you one new tradition that you loved, one that could be shared with just the two of you until hopefully one day there were toddlers running around the tree.

The first thing you did together was get a tree. It was a small tree, its branches were short and stubby and it couldn’t have been more than 2 feet tall even in the pot that it was nestled in. It wasn’t the tree that Mikko would have chosen, but when he saw your eyes brighten at the ceramic pot it was planted in, the 6 feet Douglass Fir’s lining the tree farm suddenly disappeared from his line of sight.

“Are you sure this one’s okay, Mik? I don’t want to mess with the tradition.” You quietly asked, your arm wrapped tightly around his as he pushed the tree in the cart toward the car. You didn’t want to change the things that he was trying to show you, but deep down you were finding yourself longing for this to be something you created with him, memories and traditions to have together. It may have seen silly to outsiders, putting so much thought into something that should have been simple, but you were trying to let him show you the magic of Christmas that he had spent years keeping from you at your own request, and part of that process was trying to redesign the idea about Christmas that you had built in your head.

“I love it, it’s perfect for us.” He smiled at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, the black pom on your hat ticking his nose slightly as he stood back up.

The tree sat undecorated on a table by the window for nearly a week. With Mikko being gone on a road trip, you had just pushed it to the outskirts of your mind, figuring it would get done eventually. On the fifth morning that you woke up alone, you leaned over the counter as your coffee brewed, the tree sitting there on the table directly in front of you, Mikko’s good morning text replaying in your mind. You looked out the window, admiring the snow falling over the city, the grey clouds casting a shadow into your already grey and modern home. You sighed, and before you realized what you were doing, you found yourself wandering into the storage closet and pulling out a bin that you had never once touched or even looked at.

You set your coffee down on the floor next to the tree and slowly opened the plastic container, the contents carefully wrapped in protective tissue, ornaments you knew he had collected over the years since moving to Denver. You took a shaky breath and closed your eyes slowly, an image of Mikko dancing through your mind. You opened your eyes and grabbed an ornament, a small antique looking Santa, a chip on his leg from wear and tear and a black ink smudge on the bottom, 2002, presumably the year that it was bought. You carefully hung it on the tree, leaning back to admire it for a moment before reaching your hand back into the bin to grab another. This one, 1999. You took each ornament one by one, taking almost an hour to decorate this two-foot-tall tree sitting on a table against your high rise condo window, each ornament having a year written somewhere on them, leaving you to begin to wonder all of the circumstances that had led to Mikko having that specific ornament.

When all was done, the tree had ornaments but no lights, a pot instead of a tree skirt, and there was nothing sitting on top of it that resembled a star. Instead, you placed a photo of you and Mikko carefully next to the pot, one that was taken just shortly after you told him you loved him for the first time, one that to you, symbolized a new shift to your relationship, one that you were hopefully emulating by decorating this tree.

When Mikko came home late that night, tired and ready to crawl into bed next to you after almost a week apart, he stopped in the living room when he saw the light still on. In his foggy state of mind, he didn’t even notice the tree until he was reaching to turn off the small lamp sitting next to it, pausing in a state of shock when he realized what exactly he was looking at. It wasn’t how he would have decorated it, the ornaments were in the completely wrong places, some too densely placed, and the lack of lights was a design choice that he wasn’t sure was intentional or not. But, Mikko felt his heart grow looking at it. A tree that a year ago you would have never said yes to buying, let alone decorating that you had spent time on doing yourself. Mikko turned off the light, walking into the bedroom to find you peacefully asleep on your side of the bed. He wrapped himself around you, pulling you close and pressing a soft kiss into your neck, murmuring his love for you before drifting to sleep.

The next morning you woke up in a familiar trance, soft and needy kisses shared between you as his hands guided your hips and their movements on top of him, heavy breaths filling the space as you held each other close, making up for the lost time of that week. When you slid off of him, he pulled your face down to his one last time, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, “Minä rakastan sinua,” melting from his lips, “I love you,” in Finnish.

“I love you, too, Mikko.” You said back, your heart full and your cheeks flushed.

By the time Mikko emerged from the shower, you had already made coffee and were sitting on the couch reading. He came up next to you, setting a small box in front of you as he sat down. You set your book down, eyeing him curiously as he began to speak.

“I noticed you decorated the tree, and I have something for you, for us that we could put on it together.” He carefully unwrapped the box, a silver ornament resting neatly in it. You carefully pulled the ornament from the box, the shiny material feeling smooth in your hands until you noticed something scratchy on the sides. You turned the ornament, your eyes welling with tears when you saw what was engraved on the side. A date, the date that you said the famous three words for the first time, the same magnetic pull coming from the ornament he had made that you felt from the photograph.

“I thought having a special ornament each year for just us could be a tradition we start together. It’s sort of like our first Christmas together, but it’s not the first that I’ve felt love for you.” He smiled. Mikko reached up and wiped your cheek tenderly, drying the tears that had fallen as he pulled you up and toward the tree. You hung the ornament on the small, imperfect tree with no lights, and as you looked out at Denver in the background, with Mikko curled around you, you felt that warmth he had always told you he felt about Christmas for the first time, a feeling that you hoped to carry with you for the rest of your life together.

#mikko rantanen #mikko rantanen fic #mikko rantanen imagine #mikko rantanen x reader #avs fic #avs imagine #avs story #hockey fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic

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ninaahelvar · 3 years

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Touch Me

Summary: Since leaving Ketterdam, Nina just wants Matthias to initiate and take control of his passions. So, she teaches him how.

AO3

A/N: I binged the entire S&B and Six of Crows series in like 2 weeks in prep for the show and lemme tell you...matthias was my favourite boi….and the audacity - so, i wrote a fic that’s basically just smut cause i said so and because i cried in my room for the last hour of Crooked Kingdom and i think that’s very sexy of me. Anyway. Enjoy this fic??? Its my first time writing nina and matthias so i’m still fairly new to their character voices and such, so if anything is a little OOC to you, i’m very sorry, i tried very hard.ALSO I USUALLY HAVE THINGS BETA READ, BUT NO SUCH LUCK WITH THIS ONE, SO THERE'S PROBABLY A MILLION MISTAKES, VERY SORRY!

Nina knew that Matthias was somewhat bashful when it came to being intimate - he’d blush up a storm when she’d kiss him, and practically swayed when she held her hands in his - but the fact that they had been living in Ravka for nearly a month since their success in Ketterdam and he still refused to touch her was getting a bit unsettling. Matthias had always been a hard man to understand, his Fjerdan ways so ingrained that it was like flirting with a brick wall, but Nina had persisted, knowing there was a man worth having under all that muscle - she just wished he’d take his passion when it overcame him.

After yet another night of unsuccessful wooing, Nina was beginning to doubt Matthias had any real intentions of staying with her. Sure, she was aware that Matthias wanted to court her like a good Drüskelle, but they weren’t in Fjerda anymore, he could have his way with her. If he ever took a moment to look at her. Matthias spent most of his days helping out the town with the horses and wildlife - mainly, he was big and burly and most of the women liked to ask him to do things just so they could stare - or he was learning Ravkan a little at a time.

There were times where Nina thought Matthias was adapting well in Ravka, his only failing was the fact that he didn’t speak much of the language. He gathered a few bits and pieces from other members of the town, but he spent most dinner conversations asking what words meant and scouring through literature to try to learn it with her. He was putting in an effort, even if the land they were in felt foreign and hostile to him; Matthias never had to tell her as such, he was still getting used to things, and it was always going to take him time.

Matthias returned home, shrugged off his coat and fell into the chair at their dining table, Nina sighed as she looked at him. His hair had finally started to grow again, almost falling into his eyes, even as his head lulled back from exhaustion. Nina walked over to him, dropping her lips down to meet his and he smiled as they touched.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to trim this?” Nina asked in Kerch - a language they shared and both felt comfortable conversing in. She tilted his head from side to side and combing her hand through his hair. Matthias snarled back at her. She giggled as she kissed him again, settling herself down in his lap. “I was joking, Matthias. But you look too Fjerdan as it is, some people in town might get worried and start asking questions if you look like a full Drüskelle.”

“I will not have my hair cut again,” he huffed.

“I know, Matthias. But true to learn how to smile. I may love your scowl, but it frightens other people,”

“I will, little red bird.” He gave a half hearted smile, as though it were still foriegn to do so.

“Now, eat dinner and we’ll sit and drink kvas while you tell me about your day.”

As she had said, they ate dinner, and once done, they sat by the fireplace on the rug, Nina’s head on Matthias shoulder, sharing a bottle of kvas as he told her about his day helping where he could around town. He wanted a real occupation, and it was beginning to show.

Nina had assignments from time to time - she wasn’t willing to be a soldier anymore, but Matthias encouraged her to learn her new Grisha powers in practical use, and the only way of doing that with the second army. Sometimes it was limited things like translation mistakes to foreign leaders, or things as disturbing as bringing a person back to ask how they died. Even if it were her new power, Nina didn’t like dead things - it felt wrong to urge the dead from their rest to ask them mundane questions. Nina was beginning to suspect that Matthias would want to join the first army if it didn’t mean betraying his home country. Part of Nina wanted to ask Zoya and King Nikolai if it were at all possible, but it was still an unrealistic idea in anyway case.

“What does koja mean?” Matthias asked, sipping at his kvas, a drink he still sneered out, regardless of how much he drank it. Nina sat up and stared at him. She knew he was learning Ravkan, but she knew she hadn’t taught him that word yet.

“Why?” Nina asked skeptically. How did he hear it?

“Anatasia keeps calling it out to me when I chop wood for her and her mother.” Nina huffed, folding her arms over her chest and sulking. She felt like a child as she did it, but she hadn’t recognised how jealous she truly was until he said it.

“That little -”

“What does it mean?” he persisted, and Nina huffed, standing up and patting down her skirts.

“Handsome.” Matthias cleared his throat and blushed.

“If I could speak Ravkan, I’d tell her to stop, you know that.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “No point. She’d just keep saying it when you couldn’t hear.” Stalking off to their room, she shut the door and threw herself down on the bed, trying not to grumble in her loneliness.

Nina didn’t know why she was sulking - well, she knew, but she wasn’t sure why she was angry with Anastasia. It was clear that Matthias was handsome, but maybe because Nina couldn’t claim him how she wanted, it felt unnatural to call him hers. She felt foolish and stupid for having walked out on him, leaving Matthias to clear up messes she had made throughout the house.

It took Matthias less than twenty minutes to make it to their room - a simple bed and nightstand and nothing else furnished the room, a lamp lit beside Nina. She looked up and met his wary gaze, Matthias closing the door behind him and staying by the door.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice rough like everything else about him. Nina sighed, standing and combing her hair from her face.

“I want to be more intimate with you, Matthias,” she finally admitted.

“We are intimate,” he said, frowning back at her.

“Yes, to your Fjerdan sensibilities, but I meant sex, Matthias. I want to have sex with you.” To finally say it felt like a rush of adrenaline going through her - and Matthias reacted the way she thought he would, with bright pink cheeks and avoiding her gaze at all costs.

“You’re aware I have no real experience with...this?” he said and Nina realised that all the time that had passed between them, she would have to be the one to do things - to say what needed to be said, because Matthias didn’t know how. She took careful steps towards him and smiled.

“The waiting gave me some indication.”

“Nina,” he said, almost as though he were warning her, but he didn’t step away, and even reached for her when she was within his space.

“Matthias,” she replied, “start with kissing me. I can take us from there,” she instructed, and Matthias didn’t need much prompting, tugging her the last few inches before crashing his lips down to hers. He was always a clumsy kisser, but it was as if as soon as he stared, he found his rhythm easier and became a master, making her weak in his arms.

There were many things that Matthias was good at, and one of them was messing up her hair. Any chance he could when they kissed, his hand would go into her hair and tangle in it to make it fall everywhere and there was no way to look put together. Nina didn’t mind, but she always wanted it to go somewhere - this was the only time it was. And it seemed to be putting him in the right mood as she could feel the press of his crotch against her thigh and she mewled in desperation, god how she wanted him. Then, as he tugged away, her eyes fluttered open, gazing up at his flustered face.

“I...I…” he stuttered, leaning his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.

“Matthias,” she said, “what do you need?” He looked at her curiously, as though he hadn’t expected her to even ask. If she could, Nina would make this perfect for them both.

“I want to be...in charge,” he grunted, the furrow in his brow telling her that he wasn’t quite sure how to phrase the things he said. Nina would teach him later.

“Would you like to be rough?” she asked teasingly, only to watch his head nod warily. Nina shuffled him back towards the bed, shrugging him out of his shirt as she unbuttoned her blouse. He watched in fascination as she left herself completely nude from the waist up. Matthias’ face was almost completely red as he swallowed hard, but he wasn’t even at the good part and Nina smirked back at him. Unbuttoning his trousers, and letting free his cock that had been straining in his pants as they kissed.

Nina bit her lip, her fingers tentatively taking his length in her palm, hearing his stuttering intake of breath. She felt powerful in a way that no grisha power could give her.

“What are you doing?” he asked in surprise and Nina shook her head, sinking down to the floor and spreading his thighs wide.

“Shh,” she silenced him as her “you’re a bit bigger than some of my last partners. I just need to get you ready for me,” she said slyly, her fingers lightly grazing over his shaft as she began gliding over it in soft strokes.

Nina knew she shouldn’t have talked about her previous exploits, but just looking at the size of Matthias, she had to give him some confidence - she knew she was bucking herself up to take him.

As her mouth descended on his length Matthias clutched hard into the sheets of the bed, her eyes wandering over his form as his breathing was harsh even in the pit of his stomach and her efforts became hard for him to bear if the furrow in his brow was anything to go by. Rising and falling, taking him to the back of her throat, she felt like she was salivating all over it, but knew she had to use his distraction to her advantage. She fiddled with the buttons of her skirt until it came loose around her waist and fell against her lap.

“Nina!” he hissed. Nina came free, gasping for air as she smoothed her hands over his thighs, tugging down his trousers until they were discarded over her shoulder.

“Shh, baby,” she purred, rising from the floor and kicking off her skirt and leaving herself completely bare before him. “Would you like me on my back or on top?” she asked, gracing her hand from her thigh and fingers dancing over her skin as it rose over the slopes of her body, drawing his gaze over her body.

“B-back,” he admitted.

Nina sat on the bed, crawling until she was laid up against the pillows and Matthias was looking over his shoulder to see at her. Nina took his hand, making him shift in place before he took his cue and began to move over her. Matthias paused, his adam’s apple bobbing and Nina thought he was going to back down again. She opened her mouth to protest, but he simply sank down and pressed his mouth against her thigh. Nina couldn’t help but have her eyes shut; it had been a long time since she was appreciated the way Matthias was doing just then.

Matthias kissed at her hips, his lips trailing over lines that had stretched over her skin until he was making his way up her sternum and pressing his lips into her exposed skin.

“You are so beautiful,” he said, eyes focused on hers even as his tongue ran over her breast. Nina wanted to whine, wanted to cry for him to stop teasing and get on with it, but she wanted Matthias to enjoy this as much as she did. Instead, she gripped his shaft, positioning him at her entrance. Matthias sighed as they touched, and he let himself sink into her. Nina gripped into his shoulders, sighing as he stretched her a little more than she was used to, but she was ready for him all the same; her body had been aching for him since she had him in her mouth.

As he sank all the way to the base, Matthias groaned into her shoulder. For a moment, Nina feared that he had spilled himself inside at first contact, but as he sighed, he moved again, almost leaving her completely before slamming their hips together. Nina gasped and Matthias found whatever rhythm he was craving. He was fast, almost brutal with the way his hips slammed to hers and he continued to grunt as if he were fighting for something. In other moments, where lust was all that had overcome her, she would have enjoyed this type of thing, but with Matthias - his first time - she didn’t want him to waste it.

“Shh,” she soothed, her fingertips running over the hard lines of his brow until he relaxed, took a moment to breathe, “we don’t need to go fast. Savour it, Matthias. Don’t you want to remember what it’s like?” she asked, her breath shaking as he looked down at her. He gave a stiff nod of agreement and took a softer thrust inside her. Nina hummed, nodding back to him, her hands roaming down to his hips, guiding them in their effort to find a pace that was suitable.

Eventually, Matthias evened out, finding his rhythm and panted along with her as their bodies moved together, gaining the pleasures that had been denied to them for so many years. Nina was moaning hard now, with every thrust from Matthias coming a little harder.

“My love,” he grunted, and Nina hummed, trying to keep herself from crying out.

“Oh, Matthias!” she said, throwing her head back, “keep going. Oh saints, keep going,” she pleaded, bucking up to meet every thrust that came faster, both chasing an end that was so within reach that they were fighting to see who could get there first.

“Nina, I’m going -”

“Keep going,” she begged, her nails fixed into the skin on his shoulders as their bodies came together in heated thrusts and as the coil that had been building within the pit of her stomach came undone in a beautiful release, her body rose to his and she cried out his name. Matthias whispered her name over and over as he pumped into her until he was finally spilling himself inside her. Nina almost bit into his shoulder, instead only gasping until Matthias shivering had ceased. As his head rose, he bent down to kiss her, stealing her lips with his breath coming in ragged through his nose, flopping to his back once they were done. They were both left panting, staring up at the ceiling in bliss.

“Can we do that again?” Matthias asked suddenly and Nina couldn’t help the giggle that erupted up from within her. “Why are you laughing at me?” he grumbled, rolling back on top of her as though he were gaining the upper hand again. Nina shook her head, her hands running over his shoulders.

“Yes we can do it again. You’re kidding yourself if you think I’ll only want you once,”

“I want you everyday, my love,” he said in Fjerdan. Nina smiled, tugging him down to plant his lips to hers.

“I love you everyday,” she replied back, kissing at his cheek and brow. “My beautiful Fjerdan.”

#my fics #helnik #nina x matthias #matthias helvar #nina zenik #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse fic

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infinitesundrop · 3 years

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Read Chapter 2: Perks of Being a Civilian on AO3 | FFN

Banner Credit to the Amazing @the-dream-team

Fic Summary: They say time heals. It’s been nine months since Lily lost her mother and sister, but she still feels their absence every day. The only thing getting her through these difficult times has been the masked hero, Spider-Man. With the attacks on the city getting worse each day, and with the growing animosity towards London’s only hope, Lily has no choice but to act. After all, we all have powers of one kind or another, in our own way. (Spider-Man AU)

Chapter Summary: No one ever said doing the right thing was easy.

Rating: T

Fic Warnings: Grief/Mourning/Survivor’s Guilt, Violence, Referenced Character Death (minor character) | Chapter Exclusive Warnings: Street Harassment, Mass Panic, Gun Violence (lasers), Destruction of Property (building collapse),Violence (hand-to-hand combat), Mentions of Explosives, Premature Acceptance of Death, Car Accident, Self Endangerment

Read from the Beginning on AO3 | FFN

When she finally tore her eyes off the skyline, she found that Spider-Man was staring over at her again. She ducked her head to hide her blush behind the curtain of her hair. “What?” she mumbled.

“Nothing,” he replied, shrugging slowly. “It’s only...what’s your name?”

Her name. Spider-Man wanted to know her name? “Lily,” she said, turning back to face the hero directly and sitting cross-legged with her back resting against the stone railing. Lily tilted her head up to see him, a shy sort of smile on her lips. “My name is Lily Evans.”

“Lily Evans,” Spider-Man repeated, and she had to admit she quite liked how it sounded coming from him. Lily heard him suck in a breath. “You know, Lily, what you did today...it wasn’t smart.”

Clutching her house keys in her hand, the metal bits poking out from in between her fingers, Lily kept her head down as she made her way into the dimly lit London streets. As young as five years old, Lily had been taught never to walk the streets alone, especially at night. Now, with all the attacks on the city, Lily couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing.

If something happened, her father would have no idea where she was. To be completely truthful with herself, Lily wasn’t exactly sure where she was headed either.

The road and sidewalks glistened with the fresh coating of rain from the afternoon, but in the night, the air felt biting and cold. A scuffle behind Lily made her jump, but it was merely her neighbor taking out the trash.

Granted, it wasn’t like Snape was the most savory figure either. They had been something close to friends as kids, having grown up next door to each other. When they hit secondary school, something had changed him. Whether it was his mother’s death or something else, he had gotten into some really shady stuff. One day, she remembered him walking into chemistry and laughing about all the various dark uses the chemicals had if mixed a certain way.

Ever since then, Lily had made a point to stay very far away from the man.

Feeling his sullen eyes on her, she swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded in his direction, wanting to make it perfectly clear that she saw him.

Of course, he seemed to take that as an invitation to come talk to her. Lily was really not in the mood. Seeing him almost sent her straight back into the house, but there were more important things she needed to do tonight than sit at home because of Snape.

The sooner she returned home and saved her father from the worry he was undoubtedly experiencing, the better.

Picking up her pace would surely send him away, right?

Wrong. The greasy man had quickly caught up to her, reaching out his hand to grab her elbow. As his fingers brushed against Lily’s jacket, she ripped her arm forward and swung around, fist balled in the air. “Don’t ever do that.”

Whatever Snape was expecting, that was not it. He stood there, his mouth opening and closing as if he were a fish out of water. As Lily turned to run off, he cried out, “W-wait, Lily! You looked...lost!”

“Not lost,” she hissed, clutching her keys tighter, backing up away from him, but not daring to turn her back yet. “Don’t touch me. Don’t follow me.”

“It’s just,” he continued as if Lily hadn’t already made it extremely clear she wanted to be left alone, “It’s dangerous at night. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Narrowing her eyes, Lily pulled up her polaroid, snapping a photo. The flash lit up the whole block. It was only the two of them out right now. “Okay, well, you lay another finger on me, this will be your wanted photo. Leave me alone.”

Snape said something, but Lily didn’t catch it as she darted in the opposite direction. She didn’t think about where she was going; she just needed to get away.

Maybe she shouldn’t have come out here tonight.

Lily sucked in a shuddery breath as she reached a crosswalk a far enough distance away. Puffs of condensation filled the air as she took a moment to breathe while the cars drove through the intersection.

As much as she wanted to help Spider-Man, she had to admit her plan was a long shot. She wasn’t even sure if the hero would trust her enough to talk with all that was going on.

Lily pushed those thoughts from her mind, turning to the present.

She was already several blocks away from home, and even if she wanted to turn around, the idea of running into Snape again turned her blood cold. No. She had to see this through.

Taking stock of her surroundings, Lily realized she was no longer in the more residential districts. Passing a few shops that had closed up for the night, Lily wondered if maybe she was being reckless. She had no idea where she was going. While this part of town was familiar, Spider-Man had been spotted all over London.

Who was to say that she would actually find him? London was a massive city, and it was just as likely that Lily would end up somewhere unknown and in danger without anyone by her side, let alone a masked hero.

Where was she going?

She was torn from her thoughts by a loud bang, and Lily whipped around, nearly slipping off the thin piece of sidewalk she was on in between the two sides of the street, to see a gaggle of 30-somethings stumble out of the pub door that had been flung open. Starting to stagger down the street, the group roared with laughter. She placed her hand over her heart to soothe its hammering.

It took a moment for Lily’s breathing to calm down before she turned to continue walking. Her nerves were already frayed from that encounter with Snape.

Feeling herself become more grounded within her body, Lily reminded herself that she was on a mission. No backing down. Where would Spider-Man be?

She had to think about this logically. Spider-Man usually showed up around heavily crowded areas. The Bridge, Gringotts, the attack last month by the zoo... they were all bustling areas. That made sense, he wanted to protect the most people possible. Perhaps it would be a quiet night, and Spider-Man would only have to watch over the city. If they were lucky, he could stick to the skies without having to fight a second time today.

She’d heard people talk about that in classes. Some claimed that there were sightings of him on the rooftops even when the city was calm. She’d even heard some of them insisting that Spider-Man lived on the rooftops of London.

Glancing over to make sure the intersection was clear, she hurried the rest of the way across. Halfway through the crosswalk, she was hit with the realization that she was already taking her usual route to school without a second thought. Why hadn’t it occurred to her to go this way before?

Lily supposed when she first left the house, she was too worked up about the whole Spider-Man thing to do much thinking at all. For the first time since April, she'd fought with her father. And how had she handled it? She stormed out on him.

He barely let her go out for a drink at the pub with some friends after dark anymore, let alone go off wandering by herself. Not since her mother and sister...

Still, it wasn’t like she was going to any unknown parts of the city. Lily was only headed to school.

It was nighttime, though. While students did stay late to work on classwork, there wasn't usually much danger there. The worst thing that happened was students getting too drunk at the pub or arguing in the dorms.

Perhaps going to school wasn’t the best idea, but staying at least on the walking part of her commute provided her with the familiarity she needed to keep her from turning back and heading home. Once underground, she’d decide her final destination.

A familiar bright blue and red light signaled her tube station, and Lily continued on her daily commute. She descended to the Underground, scanned her Oyster card, walked down to the platform, and stood with her camera held close to her chest to await her train.

Time passed slowly and all too fast at the same time. What she was about to do was senseless, and once she boarded, it would be much harder to turn back. Lily recognized this but was still worthwhile to her.

Boarding the first car that arrived, she took a seat across from a sleeping man with facial hair. It was only Lily and the dosing passenger in their section. Normally, with so few people on the train, she’d take a seat somewhere farther away, but it was oddly comforting to be near someone else right now.

She felt bad for him. He looked exhausted, like he had come straight off a long shift. Based on his uniform, he was a subway operator. Squinting, she thought she could make out the name ‘Stan’ on his nametag.

Above the entrance, the little timer ticked down until the doors closed. What stop was he waiting for? Lily held onto the upper railing in case the train started moving, stepping forward towards the tired subway worker. She shifted her hands to brace against the seat beside Stan and leaned down to shake the worker gently. “What’s your stop?” she asked.

Stan barely responded, peeking one eye open lazily and muttering, “Piccadilly Circus”.

Of course. One of the most populated places this late would be the middle of the West End. It was always lined with tourists and locals alike.

She nodded her head, looking up at the map to see where she wanted to get off on the line. “That’s where I’m going too,” she decided aloud. “I’ll wake you when we’re there, yeah?”

Stan let out a little ‘hmmph’ in response, shifting his body so his face was squished against the subway seats with his back turned to Lily. The pleasant robotic voice announced the doors were closing, and Lily made it back to her seat right in time. The train lurched forward again mere moments later.

Studying the map above the man’s head, Lily saw she only had two stops until her own. Soon enough, the announcements declared that they had arrived, the doors gliding open. Lily stood, stepping closer to Stan and giving his shoulder another gentle shake.

In return, he grumbled something she couldn’t quite make out then turned in his chair again. It looked like there was no rousing him. Although she wanted to help, the overhead voice called for doors closing. She didn’t want to miss her stop, so she ran off the train quickly. The doors slid shut behind her with an audible click.

Once out of the car, Lily was immediately struck by how empty and quiet the place was. Usually, on a Friday night in London, people crammed onto the platforms, fighting for a place on the next train. Tonight, it was eerily quiet. The only person she saw was a janitor humming to himself as he swept.

She climbed the first set of stairs quickly. If anything, the theatres should be getting out soon, and the Circus would be filled with people going home via the Tube.

When Lily had left home, she had been sure she’d heard the weatherman call for clear skies the rest of the night. As usual, he must have been wrong, because the thunder from above the station was almost deafening the closer to the ground floor she got.

Lily climbed another set of stairs, the roar almost deafening at this point. Reaching the top of another flight of stairs, she thought she saw shadows growing larger and larger on the tiled wall towards the exit. Lily had to blink a few times to make sure she was seeing correctly. The pit of her stomach dropped with the realization that she was right.

And it wasn’t thunder.

She had been hearing a stampede of footsteps, and they were coming her way.

Turning a corner into a long hallway, all Lily saw was a horde of people flooding in, barreling towards her as if they didn’t even see her coming. The crowd ran straight into her.

Lily gasped as people shoved her aside, trampling on her feet and knocking her against the tile. Her camera crunched loudly with the impact. She braced herself for the rest of the onslaught, making herself as small as possible against the wall.

Screams of terror echoed along the tunnels. Well, at least she’d been right about where to find Spider-Man.

Hopefully, she was.

Filled with purpose again, Lily pushed against the crowd, trying to wedge her way through. She had to find Spider-Man. She had to. This was what she’d come out here for, after all. Camera or not, she had to warn him about the police and the press.

A pair of hands wrapped around one of her wrists in a vice-like grip.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the woman demanded as Lily tried to shake her off. The woman yanked back in return, Lily’s feet sliding along the floor towards her. “Lily!”

Hearing her name, Lily’s head snapped up. A familiar face stood in front of her, trying to tug her back towards the Tube. “Hestia, no, I can’t!”

“What’re you on about?” Hestia’s dark eyebrows furrowed together for a split second before she shook her head. It was as if she already decided that trying to sort out whatever Lily wanted to stick around for was not important. “Lily,” she pleaded desperately. “You have to come with me! Now! You can’t go up there!”

Lily had never seen her friend this way, so frantic and terrified. Hestia Jones was not the sort of person to scare easily‒or at all‒in the time Lily had known her. Whatever waited up there must have been dangerous.

If she turned back now, it would save her father and her friends the heartache and the fear of not knowing if she was all right. Looking into Hestia’s eyes, she almost did turn back.

But she couldn’t. Not with everything at stake. If they took down Spider-Man, who would be here to save all these people? Even if it meant sacrificing her own life, Lily would do everything in her power to help Spider-Man protect the city.

It was the right thing to do.

Everything happened so fast. One moment she was resisting Hestia’s pull, the next the two of them were running along with the chaos. Hestia had loosened her grip on Lily’s wrist, so Lily took the opportunity to slide her hand into Hestia’s instead, giving her friend’s hand a tight squeeze.

The gesture seemed to have alleviated Hestia’s worries as her friend breathed out in relief. It made what Lily had to do next so much worse.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, quickly dropping her hand and disappearing into the crowd.

When Lily turned back, her friend was being pulled along by the undertow of the crowd, her arm outstretched for Lily to grasp like a life preserver. Hestia looked distraught, and Lily was certain if she were any closer she’d see tears on her face.

This had better work.

James webbed from building to building, quickly weaving his way towards the scream. It wasn’t long before he found its inspiration: two masked terrorizers perched on the base of the statue in the middle of Piccadilly Circus.

He felt a sense of familiarity as he stared at the two. It was a man and a woman, but they looked so similar. They were both childlike in stature, but their shoulders sloped inwards, making them appear hunched over. Their faces were partially covered by masks, but the features that showed through were familiar.

He’d seen them before. He just didn’t remember where exactly.

The man had a lopsided sort of leer, and through the holes on the skull mask he was wearing, James spotted beady little eyes. The woman had less distinctive features, but like her counterpart, her skin was pallid, and she bore the same wicked expression as her counterpart.

A building on the other side of the road exploded James he landed atop the flashing billboards in the junction. The rubble scattered across the road, joining the rest of the debris the two had created. Screams echoed through the streets, people in the traffic circle abandoning the cars and buses in favor of an escape through the Tube as the two culprits cackled, taking great pleasure in the mayhem they were causing.

The woman’s wheezy giggle was what made James realize who they were, the noise bringing him back to all the times he’d heard it previously. They called themselves the Carrows: a brother and sister team. They didn’t look dangerous at first glance.

They had been there, though. At the Millenium Bridge collapse. They had been the ones who took down the rest of the bridge with the same weapons they were using now.

Both brother and sister were equipped with some kind of laser, allowing them to bring any structure to the ground with a simple push of a button. The sister, Alecto, shot a theatre close to the Circus, the building wobbling more and more until it crumbled to the ground.

It appeared as if they were searching for something as they decimated each structure, but what, James wasn’t exactly sure. The buildings all around the junction had evacuated; he’d watched them flee via the Tube with the rest of the civilians from the traffic circle, so he didn’t have to worry about saving people from the collapsing buildings.

All James knew was that he needed to stop the Carrows before they moved on, before they found a building full of people to destroy somewhere else.

But, how?

He did wonder if they had any real power without their laser guns. The easiest way to test it would be to simply grab one. It seemed too easy, but sometimes, the easiest strategy was the one overlooked.

So, he did it.

Turning his wrist, James aimed his web-shooter at one of the Carrow’s laser guns. Silky webbing shot out, traveling at lightning speed from James and attaching to the side of one of the guns. He grinned widely under the mask, grabbing hold of the web with his other hand.

He reached to grab the webbing with his other hand and pull, but a sharp tug from the other end of the web made him stumble on the precarious ledge. Another tug sent him flying to the ground.

James grimaced, shooting his webbing towards the building he had been standing on only moments ago. Suddenly, the building began to crumble around him, chunks of concrete and shards of glass raining onto him as he webbed onto a double-decker bus abandoned in the road.

So sometimes the easiest option didn’t work out.

“Good to see you two again,” he said conversationally as he jumped off the top of the bus. Their guns pointed straight at him. “Haven’t seen you two out much lately. I was afraid maybe you got busted.”

That earned him a green beam shot right at him. He probably deserved that after such a terrible joke, honestly. Still, James ducked, sliding out of the way with ease.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” he asked. He needed to find another way to take their guns from them, but at least the Circus was empty. It gave him time. Usually, he’d have to finish things as quickly as possible so that no one died. The lack of innocent civilians to worry about afforded James more time to be thorough. Tonight, the Carrows would be caught.

Still, it was two against one, and he had to keep moving to dodge the onslaught of laser beams coming his way. Usually, his best course of action was to web onto a building, but that wouldn’t be such a good idea when they had the ability to destroy whatever structure he was webbed onto.

As he passed by the Tube station, another beam shot right past him, hitting one of the walls. Too busy trying to come up with a plan, James didn’t even notice the civilian who ran out of the station’s entrance as it crumbled. Instead, he just looked at the Carrows, a smug smirk on his face as he said, “You guys really can’t hit anything that’s not stationary, can you?”

They had their guns pointed right at him, and James knew it was the perfect time to web onto the guns. They were too distracted by the idea of taking him down, both wearing wide grins under their masks.

This was it. This was his chance. All he needed to do was web both the guns and get out of the way without any of the lasers hitting him.

“Say goodbye!” Alecto cackled, but before she could shoot, a small chunk of concrete landed by James’ feet.

“No!” James heard someone cry, another piece of concrete hurled into the middle of the Circus. “Don’t hurt him!”

James glanced around to see who was senseless enough to be out here at a time like this. Why hadn’t they run screaming like everyone else?

And then, he saw her.

Lily.

As his heart leapt into his throat, body freezing mid-fight, his only thought was: Not her. Anyone but her.

He stood, frozen, as Lily ran closer, the obviously broken camera around her neck swinging wildly with her movement. Luckily, it seemed as if she’d also distracted the Carrows with the disruption.

At least, James had thought so until he realized that one of the laser guns was pointed at him and the other at Lily.

“Now!” He heard Alecto cry, and the lasers came shooting towards them.

Knowing he didn’t have much time, James webbed onto Lily and tugged to bring her to his side. He heard her frightened gasp but didn’t have time to reassure her. All he could do was hold onto her and dive out of the way as the building that had been behind them crumbled down.

James grimaced as the two of them roughly slid to the ground. He scrambled up, yanking Lily up with him. In any normal circumstance, James would never manhandle anyone, let alone Lily, the way he was right now. But this wasn’t a normal circumstance.

He needed to find her a way out of here. It wasn’t as if he could leave the Carrows and take Lily to safety. As much as he'd like to, there were other things he had to worry about.

Namely, the fact that the Carrows were shooting at them again.

Without thinking, he tugged Lily across the circle with him, ducking between two piles of rubble. They didn’t get very far before having to dodge the laser beams shooting at them. There was no way they’d be able to cross the junction without stopping to duck for cover every few paces, but their options were slim at the moment.

When he heard the sounds of the guns stop for the moment, he pulled her along, running again to find cover under another pile of debris. While it was safe for the moment, they had to get moving again soon. If they stuck around, the two masked villains would find them again.

He refused to let them be caught and cornered, not with Lily beside him.

She couldn’t be here. Keeping her by his side put a target on her back. As risky as it was to send her out there with all these toppling buildings, James wasn’t sure he had a choice. Yet, looking at the devastation around them, he knew he had to think of something to give her a fighting chance.

Anything.

Despite the fact that he knew he shouldn’t leave the Carrows alone in the Circus - after all, what if another unsuspecting citizen happened upon the scene in his absence? - Lily’s safety was taking precedence at the moment.

“How’d you get here?” he asked suddenly as they dodged the lasers. If it was safe, he’d send her back the way she came.

“I was in the Tube,” she said, panting as she tried to catch her breath while they ran through the junction. Well, that was unfortunate since the station’s entrance had been decimated into a pile of rubble. He’d have to think of some other way to get her out of here. For starters, they needed to get away from the Carrows.

“T-there was a stampede,” James heard her say, and it seemed like she was just rambling to keep from panicking. He only hoped she wasn’t too focused on her words to prevent herself from stumbling. “Everyone was running towards the train, but I-you needed help. You’re fighting for the city on your own. It looked like you were in danger, and I-” She was talking so quickly James wasn’t sure she’d have any air left in her lungs, and he’d never seen those green eyes as wide as they were in that moment. “I had to do something!”

James froze, staring at her momentarily. Had she really gone towards the danger when everyone else fled? It was dangerous to dwell on her blatant lack of respect for her own life right now. “I need to get you out of here somehow,” he muttered more to himself than to her as he looked around the junction.

She had to get out of here. The Carrows were going to destroy every building in range, and Lily couldn’t be there when they did. The Tube couldn’t be her escape route. There had to be another way out.

That was when he noticed dim light coming from behind them, casting their shadows on the pavement in front of them. There was a car - an abandoned but still running car - behind them.

A blast from a few feet away reminded him that the Carrows were still shooting at them, and Lily was looking rather worn from being dragged around Piccadilly Circus. Having her drive off in the car would be the easiest getaway, but with all the lasers shooting off at random, James thought better of it. If the Carrows hit that car with Lily in it, she’d be done for.

He needed to find a way to make it safer for her.

“Stay,” James commanded, leaving her behind a tall pile of crumbled concrete. She was huddled underneath the rubble, peeking out from behind as if keeping watch, but he saw her mutely nod her head. At the very least, he was certain that she wasn’t going to move from that spot, so he swung up onto a building, trailing along his webbing.

“Aww, no more puns? What? Not as confrontational when your little girlfriend’s around?” Alecto cooed.

Gritting his teeth, James tried to work faster, jumping around from building to ground to building and back, sticking his web to every surface he reached. Each time he landed, he glanced towards the wreckage where Lily was hiding. Thankfully, the two didn’t seem too interested in her. At least, not when they realized what James was up to.

“A spider web,” Amycus said, looking at his sister with a raised eyebrow. “How quaint.”

James heard Alecto’s wheezy giggle again before she cried, “Let’s see how well these webs work to protect your beloved from our lasers.”

Seeing their distraction as his opportunity to get Lily to safety, James dropped back down to the ground, racing back to Lily. They didn’t have much time.

He grabbed her hand tightly, tugging her backwards to the awaiting car, her escape. “Get in. Drive away. Just...just stay in the car until you’re safe, okay?” He had to know she was going to be okay, that she’d be safe one way or another. Sure, this wasn’t how he wanted this to go, but this was the best option he had.

He watched as she got into the driver’s seat, her hands shaking as she clutched the wheel. “But what about you? You can’t get hurt. We need you. London needs you.” The panic in her voice made James almost want to stay with her. He could climb into the car with her or, better yet, take her back home by webbing building to building. It would be so easy to leave with her and not deal with any of this right now.

But as she said, London needed him.

He just nodded his head to her. “I know. I’ll be all right. All in a day’s work of being Spider-Man, yeah?” He knew she was trying to hide it, but he saw the corners of her lips twitch up at that. “You need to go.”

When she gave him a shaky nod in return, James gave himself one final moment to look at her before turning on his heel and webbing back into the fight.

“Miss me?” he called as he swung back.

Upon seeing Amycus wound tightly in his barricade, much like a bug trapped in a real spider’s web, James broke out into a stupid grin. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

Alecto’s eyes narrowed and she lined up her laser not at James, who was still behind the indestructible webbing, but at a building holding it up. It wobbled precariously, like the others had done earlier, and then crashed to the ground, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. With it, fell a section of webbing. While it wasn’t enough to tear down the whole web, it was enough to surpass his barrier he’d set up.

“Are you mad?!” Amycus cried from inside his web cocoon. “You’re going to crush-” Without concern for the rest of his sentence, or apparently the well-being of her brother, Alecto shot at the other building. As the building toppled, tearing the remainder of the web down with it, James knew it was time to move.

He wanted this over with. The Carrows might’ve gotten away on the bridge, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

One down. Amycus’s laser gun was laying on the ground, but it looked damaged. There was a flashing red light on the side, and a blue and green glow peeked through the cracks along the barrel of the gun. James didn’t want to risk picking it up only for it to backfire on him. Besides, James only played offense in football. He'd stick to the defensive; he preferred his webs anyway.

One more to go.

Alecto Carrow seemed to be more competent than her counterpart given that she hadn’t gotten trapped in the web, and her actions were always a bit more calculated. Despite her intelligence, without her brother, the fight was now one-on-one, and James had the upper hand.

He landed in front of Alecto as she scurried back to her safety atop the base of the statue. It was a good vantage point for her since she’d be shooting down at him. He still wasn’t quite sure how to take down Alecto, but if the web had taught him anything, they were easily distracted.

Lily was tucked away in that cab and on her way to somewhere safe. Amycus was a bit preoccupied at the moment. A lazy smirk slid across his features, looking at the Carrow while stretching his arms behind his back languidly as if he were bored.

“What did you call my web again?” he asked somewhat tauntingly. Until he figured out how to take her down physically, this was his best course of action. “Quaint, was it? Seems like a good place for your brother to hang out. Bit of a sticky situation, really. Care to join him?”

Alecto swiftly pointed her laser at James, firing without a moment’s hesitation. As he’d assumed, Alecto thought he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

Except he was.

James shot back, his webbing threading around the barrel of a gun. He grabbed onto the silky web with his other hand, tearing the gun out of Alecto’s hands. He heard her rabid shriek as she hurled herself at him, landing on his back with a violent thud.

James tried to throw her off, but she clung to him desperately, kicking and screaming for her weapon. Right when he thought he’d lost her, she started digging her long, sharp nails into his shoulders as she clawed for her gun back.

He knew he had to get her off—the pain made sure of that much—but he needed to figure out what to do with this gun too. It wasn’t as if throwing it far enough away would actually help, even it was far enough to keep out of the Carrows’ clutches. Not if it gave anyone the power to decimate the entire city. The webbing blocked anything firing from it for now, but he knew the web weakened as its chemical composition deteriorated from the elements. Far faster than James liked to admit, it became no more than glorified silly string.

He needed to act fast.

With a fierce elbow to her gut, Alecto’s grip on James’s back weakened slightly. As he began to deliver the final blow, the circle was illuminated in a green-blue light, and a feverish laugh filled the streets. James’s blood turned cold.

Amycus had escaped. In his hands was the damaged laser gun, sparking and shooting in random directions.

Alecto hopped off James’s back and ran towards her brother. Apparently, she had bigger fish to fry than fighting for her gun. With that weapon in both of their hands, ready to explode at any moment, they would be nearly unstoppable.

Not on his watch. James whipped a web around Alecto’s ankle, gripping the web and yanking her into the air. With his other hand, he webbed her to a nearby billboard. There. Even if she did get free...good luck coming down from there.

With Alecto taken care of, Amycus grew even more violent. He began firing his gun in every direction. Sometimes it went off and other times, nothing happened. The sparking was getting worse with every misfire.

Luckily, it was compromised enough that none of the shots directed at James actually hit him. The shaking of the gun from the sparks made Amycus’s aim haphazard at best. Simply blocking the lasers from coming too close was working for now.

That gun was going to be a problem. James wasn’t sure he was even equipped to deal with the aftermath if it did explode.

Amycus’s aim was getting worse, barely able to hold onto the weapon anymore. Maybe this was James’s chance. The second Amycus let go of that weapon, he could get close enough to finally put an end to all this.

Just as James thought this all would be over, Amycus had climbed back onto the statue, attempting to maneuver the gun to point in James’ direction, using the statue as a base to keep his grip on the device as it jerked about. His target line was so much better with the statue stabilizing the gun.

The Carrow was done playing bulldozer on the city. His target was set on Spider-Man.

James knew this wouldn’t be good. His options were: get shot, grab the gun and have it blow up, or, possibly, both. None of it sounded very promising. Sure, he’d been in scary situations in the past, but he’d never dealt with an unstable weapon with this kind of power in the hands of someone like Amycus.

There was a real possibility that he’d die here. That fact hit him so hard that it was almost as if one of those buildings had crushed him.

He could die right now.

There were so many things he hadn’t done, things he hadn’t said.

He had regrets, sure. He wished he’d stayed as close to Remus Lupin as they had been before he became Spider-Man, but he’d decided months ago to keep Remus out of this for his own protection.

Now, he regretted not telling Sirius how much he appreciated all his help with this Spider-Man stuff, even if he hadn’t wanted Sirius to know at first either. James wished he’d told him how he was the best friend he could’ve ever asked for, the brother he’d always wanted.

More than that, he wished he hadn’t fought with Lily at the Prophet. She didn’t know he’d seen her again tonight. Unless she found out he was Spider-Man, her last memory of him would be of their fight. He wished he’d told her how he felt.

James swallowed thickly as his mind wandered to Aunt Minnie. More than anything, he wished he could give her a proper goodbye. He knew how devastated she’d been when James’ mum had died without saying goodbye. Minnie would be crushed again, and she’d be downright furious with him for being Spider-Man.

But he couldn’t think about any of that right now. Not when Amycus Carrow was prepared to end this at any moment, his finger on the trigger.

Like Lily had said, London needed him. He needed to be there to save the people of the city. He needed to save London because that was where Remus Lupin lived. Where Sirius lived. Lily. Aunt Minnie.

He had to save them. Even if saving them meant losing himself.

Resigning himself to the fact that things were probably about to get very, very messy, he raised his hand, shaking slightly as he moved, to shoot at the gun before Amycus shot at him.

Amycus’s eyes lit up with a devilish delight in what he was about to do.

A screech from the distance caused both parties to pause for a moment. When James looked to where the noise was coming from, two bright lights from some sort of car blinded him. As he blinked away the lights, he’d seen enough to know what had happened.

The taxi careened past him, slamming into the statue in the middle of the junction. The heavy bronze figure swayed for a moment before toppling to the ground with a deafening clash, its motion bringing Amycus down with it.

The gun soared through the air, alight like a meteor. He hoped this worked.

James used both web-shooters to catch the gun, twirling it with one web, and wrapping it like a bandage with the other. Fully covered now, James webbed it to hang from a pile of rubble well lit by the street lamps, somewhere the authorities would easily find it.

He heard their sirens now, coming from a distance. Figured that as soon as things finished up, the cops arrived.

Amycus was out. The statue must have knocked him unconscious. He might’ve checked to see if the Carrow was still breathing if it weren’t for his unexpected hero. As James approached the black taxi, his heart pounded in his chest.

Lily. It had to be Lily. No one else disregarded their own safety enough to do something so stupidly brave except her.

The car was crushed in at the front, the wheels bent at a strange angle and steam billowing out of the grill. He couldn’t see her through the windows since the whole cab was filled with the deployed airbags.

Please be okay.

When he looked inside, ripping off the door of the crushed cab, Lily was heaving, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. She had a bruise purpling along the side of her cheek but otherwise appeared okay. As he opened his mouth to ask if she was, Lily cut him off.

“I-I stayed in the car,” she gasped, looking at him, her green eyes wide.

James swallowed his initial response as she stumbled out of the destroyed taxi, and he reached out, grabbing her hands to steady her. “Be careful,” he murmured, worried her injuries might be worse than what was visibly apparent. He’d gotten too used to the luxury that was self-healing. Lily, on the other hand…

She looked relatively okay though. She wasn’t too pale - well, not any paler than she normally was - and she appeared to know what was going on at the very least. Still… “I think you should let me take you to the hospital.”

“Take me home,” she said, rubbing at the bruise on her cheek. It was swollen a bit, and she had this look of exhaustion on her face that made James’s stomach flip. Maybe she was more hurt than he thought.

James shook his head slowly. If something happened to her, it’d be his fault. “Err...No. I think you need to go, really,” he insisted. “You need to get checked out at the hospital.”

Lily scowled at the suggestion this time, and it was a welcome sight. That was the Lily he knew, the one that crashed cars into famous landmarks. “Look, Spider-Man. If you won’t take me home, I’ve already committed grand theft once today. I can do it again and get home by myself, but I’m bruised and tired and I really don’t care to deal with the traffic this fight has no doubt caused. So, I’ll ask you again. Take me home.”

“That wasn’t a question - more of an order, really. You sure you didn’t hit your head too hard?” She was fine; that, he was sure of now. She was talking normally, didn’t seem too confused about where she was or what she was doing, and though her walk hadn’t been all that steady when getting out of the car, he knew she’d been shaken up. She seemed stable now.

Besides, she’d told him off, so that was an encouraging sign.

James watched with a bemused smirk as Lily narrowed her eyes and then swished around, apparently giving up on travel by web. Her walk was definitely more steady again, which, James supposed, was good. Still, he couldn’t let her drive home. Not when she’d already been through so much that night. Not with that big bruise forming on her cheek. Not with her complete disrespect for her own safety.

Lily had already spotted another taxi and was marching towards it purposefully. James, not wanting her to go off by herself and get in more trouble tonight, ran to catch up with her, leaning on her cab of choice when they got close enough. “So, tell me,” he said conversationally, “do you commit grand theft often? Should I be worried about you?”

That broke through her wall she was building up. He wished he could say the way her eyes lit up, her nose wrinkling slightly at his words, didn’t make him feel anything, but he’d felt this way since he first met her. It didn’t seem like the sort of thing that’d change anytime soon.

“Oh, be very worried,” she teased, leaning against the taxi as well. “Planning to be an accessory to my crimes, Spider-Man?”

“Sorry,” he sighed, crossing his arms as he smirked underneath his mask. He knew they needed to get out of there soon since the sirens from earlier sounded far too close for comfort, but he was having too much fun teasing Lily. “No can do. That sort of thing is bad for my image.”

“Ah, yes. Your image, which as we all know is already so good.” Lily let out a soft little laugh, more of a breath than anything, and looked down at the ground. Her smile faded rather quickly, and he knew she was thinking about the paper. As she pushed off the car and examined the wreckage they’d left behind—piles of rubble in and around the streets, the statue toppled, a destroyed cab—her eyebrows knitted together in worry.

It probably wasn’t the best thing to mention his image to her. She’d want to go and fix it, and he’d seen how reckless she could be. Reckless enough to save his life.

And she didn’t even know she knew him. He was glad that in all the chaos, he’d remembered to lower his voice a bit so it wasn’t as easily recognizable for Lily.. If she had known, James knew she’d want to help more. He could only save her from herself so many times.

Thinking back on the events of the day and watching her with that worried look on her face, he wanted to reach out and tell her it’d be okay. They were just buildings. Sure, his reputation might suffer, but he didn’t care about that. No one had died today, and that was the biggest relief, especially with Lily being involved. He didn’t even want to think about something happening to her on his watch. Of all people, hadn’t she suffered enough from his failures as Spider-Man?

He’d wanted to tell her he was sorry for all that had happened tonight. He wanted to apologize for what had happened at work too, despite the mask. He wanted to plead for her to put herself first for once, to stop being so reckless, but the authorities were rounding the corner now, red and blue lights flashing against the facades of the remaining buildings.

James took a deep breath instead. They had to get out of here. “Let’s go,” he said suddenly, offering her a hand.

Lily looked down at it as if it were a foreign concept to her. “What?”

“I’ll take you home,” he said, trying not to sound too impatient, but he needed to dodge the cops. She knew that. He took her moment of hesitation to shoot a web at an intact building, getting ready to leave whenever she was ready. “You’re far too reckless to get home safely by yourself.”

“Right.” She looked nervously over her shoulder before taking his hand. “What if I slow you down, though?”

As she said this, the tires of the police cars and ambulances squealed as they screeched to a stop. Behind them, a few dozen media vans, including Daily Prophet 24/7 coverage. Their time for questions was over.

Reporters scrambled out of their vehicles. They had to leave, now, while James still had a clear view of his escape route. He wrapped his arms around Lily, tucking her in close to his side. “Hold onto me,” he murmured, kicking off the ground and swinging onto the top of the building his web was on.

As they flew through the air, the flashes of reporters’ cameras filled his vision. Looked like the Prophet got their picture after all.

The city was absolutely breathtaking at nighttime. From within the dark, the soft glow of the streetlamps and the lights inside the different apartments was a warm and welcome sight. At a distance, they almost looked like fireflies.

High above the ground, the people and the cars all looked so small. It was as if all the problems of the world were the same size. Up there, it felt like you were untouchable, undefeatable.

Of course, Lily didn’t know this because her face was smushed against Spider-Man’s chest as they fled the scene. She felt the wind whipping around them, stray pieces of hair tickling her cheeks, but she was not going to look around. Her arms wrapped around his torso tightly, and her fingers clung around the fabric of his suit as if it was the only thing able to save her if she fell.

Most certainly not the webs the superhero was soaring through the sky with.

From above her, she thought she heard Spider-Man chuckle. Lily furrowed her brows but figured she must be hearing things. What was so funny at a time like this?

Then she felt his laugh, his chest shaking with every little chortle. Terrified to look down, Lily moved her head up the slightest bit to peek at the man above her.

Problem was, it was really hard to read his facial expression with the mask situation. From the way his head was angled, it looked like he was laughing at her, watching her. “What’s so funny?” she asked, burrowing her face back into his side.

“Oh, nothing,” he murmured back to her, the two of them dipping down as he webbed onto another building. “I just think it’s funny that you were so...so reckless and brave earlier with everything you did, but you’re frightened of heights. You can run into a stampede. You can crash a car into a statue-a national landmark, mind you. But heights, that’s what does you in.” There was a beat as he thought this over before Lily heard his laugh again. “Honestly, this is probably the safest thing you’ve done tonight.”

But it didn’t feel like the safest thing, not to Lily. She felt like she was moving through the city at a very fast pace, very high off the ground while being held up by a couple of little strings. That felt like a very unsafe thing to do. She was sure her father would agree, but he wouldn’t have approved of anything she’d done tonight.

Besides, he’d done this tons of times. At this point, it must’ve been as natural as breathing for him. “I’d bet you were scared the first time you did this,” she replied somewhat bitterly.

“Sure,” Spider-Man said in return. “I couldn’t close my eyes though. Something tells me that wouldn’t have worked out for me too well.”

A smile tugged at Lily’s lips, but she didn’t dare look up. “Perks of being a civilian, yeah?”

“I suppose,” he sighed, and Lily felt him hold her a little closer. She tried to ignore the blush creeping up her neck when, suddenly, he jerked to a stop. She opened her eyes to see what had happened only to find they were hanging on the side of Big Ben. Lily gasped, tightening her grip on his suit for dear life.

“Spider-Man,” she cried, her eyes trailing down the clock tower to the streets below of their own volition. The buses and cars directly below them looked so minuscule. She felt like she was going to be sick, her skin turning clammy and her stomach churning at the sight. Her heart was beating so hard against her chest she was positive Spider-Man felt it.

“Relax,” he insisted, shifting to place her feet on a close-by ledge. “Li-Let’s breathe, okay?” He tugged her closer, shuffling so she was closer against the tower and more securely on the ledge. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Lily did as he said, breathing in, but it came in as a shudder. Spider-Man nodded encouragingly and she thought she heard him say something like, “good, keep going,” but she wasn’t really paying attention to his words. He was holding onto her with one arm wrapped around her in something of a hug, and Lily was very aware of his hand on her back. His other hand was gripping onto his suspended web, only his toes touching the ledge she stood upon.

She tightened her hold on him, not able to think clearly when she was terrified that now he would fall. It didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest, his head tilted upwards into the open air, looking at something high above them.

Her breath must have evened out with her distraction because Spider-Man looked to her suddenly and nodded his head in approval. “Good. See, you’re alright.” Lily only nodded slowly. “Hey, I don’t want you to be scared, but I think you’d think the city is really pretty right now. Can I take you up a little higher-”

“Are you joking?” Lily snapped, looking at Spider-Man with disdain. “I’m terrified, and you want to go up higher?”

He seemed amused by her outburst. “Are you done?” Lily opened her mouth to speak again, but he cut her off. “As I was saying, can I take you up a little higher where there’s a railing and a real floor? You can calm down before I take you home. Does that sound okay?”

That didn’t sound too bad, Lily had to admit. When she nodded her agreement, Spider-Man scooped her up and began scaling the side of the building. From over his shoulder, she saw tourists pointing them out amongst themselves from the London Eye.

As far up as they were when he first took her to the tower, Lily didn’t realize how much farther up there was to go until she was carried up to the top. The white light from the clock cast their shadows on the city below.

Soon, they reached a railing, and Spider-Man pulled them over it. Finally on solid ground, Lily let out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Better now?” he asked, and she nodded quickly. She’d never been so happy to have her feet on the floor, even if the floor was much higher up than she preferred. As she glanced out over the city, she had to admit that it was rather pretty. The river Thames looked like glass from so far up, its surface calm and dark other than reflections from the surrounding lights and the moon in the distance. Across from them, the London Eye ticked along at a slow, leisurely pace.

“Yeah,” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off the city. It seemed so strange that the city felt so calm and quiet in one place, and yet, in another, it was filled with destruction.

When she finally tore her eyes off the skyline, she found that Spider-Man was staring over at her again. She ducked her head to hide her blush behind the curtain of her hair. “What?” she mumbled.

“Nothing,” he replied, shrugging slowly. “It’s only...what’s your name?”

Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Did Spider-Man call her dumb? Even though she had just sat down, she scrambled back to her feet so she was on his level, looking into his eyes-well, eye markings. “What I did today was I saved your life.”

“And you could’ve lost yours,” he shot back, crossing his arms against his chest.

“So could you!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms out. “You know what you do for a living right? You’re at least a little self-aware? Spider-Man, your job is putting your life at risk. I don’t think you’re in a place to lecture me about safety.”

She crossed her arms too, looking him over. He was tall, but his voice sounded young. While it was hard to tell if he was younger or older than her, he seemed like he was at least around her age range. What was a university-age kid doing sacrificing his life for the city? Lily’d had enough lectures this evening for the both of them. If he wanted to lecture her, fine. Two could play that game.

Spider-Man began shaking his head. “You don’t get it. I didn’t choose this. This was put on me, and like you said, London needs me. But you...you need to stay safe. Surely you have people that worry about you. If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for them.”

Guilt washed over her like a tidal wave. Her father would be so furious when she got home. Surely by now, the news had aired. She knew the reporters had gotten a photo of her. She didn’t know if her face was visible, but with her luck, everyone would know she had met Spider-Man by tomorrow morning.

But Spider-Man was wrong. No matter what her father said, Spider-Man saved people. And no matter how angry her dad was, Lily knew she did the right thing. She set out to help Spider-Man and she did.

He was alive because of her. He’d go home to the people who cared about him tonight because of her.

For all she knew, the whole city was alive because of her. What would have happened if the two masked villains had gotten away? What if that sparking laser gun had exploded like it looked like it was going to?

Because Lily risked her life, so many more were safe. She refused to apologize for that, no matter what anyone else said. Even if that person was Spider-Man.

Besides, she was fine.

He did raise a good point, though. Her father was probably worried sick waiting for her to come home.

Lily felt Spider-Man’s gaze through his mask, and she was vaguely reminded of an ant under a microscope. He must have been waiting for her to respond, but she was so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t noticed.

What did she even say to that? Did Spider-Man not want to be Spider-Man? If she could, Lily would trade places with him, take the weight off his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” Lily murmured, taking advantage of the fact that Spider-Man probably thought she was talking about risking her life. She wasn’t, but at least her words placated him. She wasn’t sorry for what she did.

She was sorry that he had to carry this burden for the city, sorry he had to be responsible for keeping people who didn’t appreciate him safe.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled in return, and Lily watched as he paced for a moment before he stared back at her. “Look, it’s not… I’m grateful that you saved my life and all.”

“Then-” Lily started, but Spider-Man cut her off, looking down at her in a way that she practically felt the intensity through the air.

“But I don’t want you to go risking yours for something like that again.”

Lily nodded slowly in return, even if she didn’t mean it. Something like that. They weren’t talking about saving a couple of buildings or a famous landmark. She’d saved his life. It was worth the risk. If she had to do it again, she would. But Spider-Man needn’t know that.

“Anyway,” she heard him sigh as he stepped closer to the ledge again. “I’d better get you home. Where might that be, Lily?”

She knew she needed to get home before her father went out and started looking for her himself. She’d be surprised if he hadn’t already. Lily murmured her address, joining him at the edge and grabbing his outstretched hand.

This time, she didn’t close her eyes. Whether she had grown used to the sensation or if she’d grown numb, Lily wasn’t sure. Granted, she was keeping her eyes on what was in front of her, deliberately ignoring the ground below them.

Instead, she watched as Spider-Man webbed from building to building. Every time a bit of web was released, he pressed this mechanism built into his suit. As she first noticed it, she had to blink a few times to be sure of what she was seeing.

All this time, Lily had thought Spider-Man had special supernatural abilities, and the webs were only one of them. Although she didn’t understand how Spider-Man would be able to shoot webs from his skin, she’d just assumed he was some type of mutant.

But those web-shooters were man-made. He must have engineered them somehow. Or maybe he’d commissioned someone to or something. Either way, they looked complicated.

Spider-Man must have been really intelligent to figure something like that out, but engineered web-shooters meant he was really just a regular guy.

She did wonder who was truly behind the mask. Not because of any desire to expose his identity to the world, and certainly not to turn him over to the cops. No, Lily was simply fascinated by the mystery.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that this man had sort of saved her life tonight too.

She had so many questions for him, but she was afraid that if she asked, he wouldn’t tell her. Or worse, he’d get upset and think she was trying to discover who he was. So instead, Lily kept quiet the entire way home, watching Spider-Man use his web-shooters.

How did they work? What substance inside that tiny mechanism created those near-indestructible webs? They were strong enough to resist lasers. They pulled both his and her body weight through the sky. Forget their weight, that day at the bridge, Lily watched on the telly as Spider-Man stopped a bus from falling into the river.

And it all started with those little web-shooters.

Far too interested in the web-shooters, she hadn’t realized that Spider-Man had gotten her back home until her feet were placed firmly on the ground. She glanced around, realizing that most of the lights in the building were dark now as people had gone to sleep for the night. Her own home was still lit brightly, and she was sure her father was waiting for her.

Lily turned around to thank Spider-Man for bringing her home, but by the time she did so, he’d already disappeared into the darkness.

She sucked in a deep breath, reaching out for the front door’s handle and turning it until she heard the click. “Dad?” she called, stepping inside. “I’m home…”

#jily #jily*#lily evans #james potter #lily potter #prongs #fnjp #our writing

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obeymebabes · 4 years

Text

Your First (Mammon x MC)

Warnings: Slight spoilers for the Mammon birthday event. Also really fluffy.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMS!!! This is based on a scene from the Mammon birthday event. I’ve done a fic for everyone’s birthday thus far so I might as well continue it! I’m sorry if this isn’t the best, I didn’t plan this out like I usually do and just tried to go with the flow.

Summary: You need to help Mammon try to sleep so the brothers can set up his surprise party. You have offered to stay with him and talk until he gets tired. You also want to be the first to wish him a happy birthday.

Just a few more hours until his big day.

Mammon’s birthday was just around the corner. He was so excited that he told everyone a week in advance. His brothers had everything planned perfectly for him. All thanks to you of course.

The day before was exhausting, making sure everything was ready to be set up later that night while Mammon slept. Of course they stuck you on duty to make sure he would go to sleep.

That night you headed to Mammon’s room. Upon walking through the door you found Mammon standing up and talking to himself, looking visibly distraught about something.

“Aaaaah, damn it! I can’t sleep!” Mammon groaned, trying to rub his eyes to see if it would help.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, making him aware of your presence. He smiled in your direction when he saw you, quickly making his way to you.

“Oh, MC! Perfect timing! I was playin’ this game that Levi recommended, and there was this scary scene with a whole bunch of zombies…!” He explained, shaking his head at the thought.

It’s still shocking to you that a demon, a very powerful one at that, is able to be so easily scared by a game or movie about something that doesn’t even exist. Like zombies. He has seen so much throughout his years of life that surely he would be immune to such “scary” creatures.

“Playin’ something like that right before bed is seriously just the worst…” Mammon avoided eye contact with you, blushing a bit at how ridiculous he sounded. “Not that I’m scared of anything! I’m just too excited to sleep, ya know?” His voice faltered momentarily as he tried to save his dignity by adding that additional information.

He just wanted to seem like the big, scary protective demon that he had portrayed in his own fantasy. He couldn’t let a mere human think he was anything less than what he was. A demon like him shouldn’t be so terrified.

Luckily, the Avatar of Sloth showed up at the perfect time. Stepping into Mammon’s room to join you both, he smiled.

“Did I hear that you can’t sleep, Mammon?” Belphegor asked, ignoring Mammon’s previous comments about being scared of a video game cut-scene.

Mammon laughed a bit as he noticed his normally sleeping brother was awake. His snide comment said it all, “Oh, Belphie! You’re awake too, huh? That’s pretty rare!”

Taking a moment to look around his room, Mammon thought of an idea. Not the best idea, but an idea nonetheless.

“Oh, I know. Since we’re all here, why don’t we stay up together? I got some cards. Wanna play a few rounds or somethin’?”

This wasn’t at all going according to plan. Mammon was wide awake. He didn’t show any signs of being tired, either. Belphie, luckily, had somewhat of a plan. He was the Avatar of Sleep Sloth after all. This was his specialty. Sort of.

Mammon looked impatient, shifting his footing as he waited for an answer from either you or his sleepy brother.

“No. It’s really late. So here, read this and go to bed.” Belphie handed his brother a letter. One of the many letters that he had received over the past few days. It may have seemed like a silly idea at first but you could tell that Mammon really enjoyed having the spotlight.

Mammon took the letter, reading the name of it, “For when you can’t sleep – Part 1.”? Confused by what this meant, he opened it to read the inside. “Please make use of Belphie’s co-sleeping service.”

Looking even more confused than before, he eyed the both of you. Before he had a chance to speak, you spoke up first, “That’s exactly what you need right now!”

Mammon looked back down at the paper then back to Belphie. “What the heck is “Belphie’s co-sleeping service”?” Belphie had a grin across his face. “You don’t have to be shy, Mammon. I’m a pro when it comes to sleep.”

You sat and watched the Avatar of Greed eye his brother. “Only when it comes to your own sleep!” You could see that Mammon was visibly annoyed by being offered such a ridiculous situation. Why did he have to listen to the stupid paper? What did this even mean?

Belphie made his way over to Mammon’s bed. Crawling into it, making himself right at home with his cow-patterned pillow. You couldn’t help but giggle at how frustrated Mammon was getting. Yelling at his younger brother to get out of his bed.

Within seconds, Belphie was out cold while Mammon and you both sat there looking at him. The greedy demon groaned and walked over to shake his sleeping brother awake. None of this was going to plan. How was Mammon supposed to sleep when his brother was only annoying him instead of actually helping him?

Finally shaking him awake, Belphie groaned and looked around to see that he was still in Mammon’s room. He rubbed his eyes and laughed. With a yawn, the formerly sleeping demon looked at you with half-lidded eyes.

“Fine. MC, it’s time for Part 2.” He mentioned, rubbing the last of sleep from his eyes. Mammon turned to you, still very confused about the situation that was going on. Belphie urged you to hand over the letter you had prepared for tonight should the Avatar of Sloth’s plan not work.

You carefully handed him the next letter that you had stowed away in your pocket. Taking it, Mammon blushed, since it was from you after all.

With a grin, he read the words on the front, “For when you can’t sleep - Part 2.” Opening it, seemingly excited he couldn’t help but smile. “MC’s bedtime chat service.”? MC is going to chat with me until I fall asleep?! Yeah that’s what I’m talking about!”

Nearly jumping for joy at the time he gets to spend with you tonight, he rushed to get his brother out of his room. Not long after Belphegor left, Mammon was rushing to talk to you.

You started out talking about the birthday letters, he was telling you all about how happy he was to receive them, since he had never had an experience like this before in his time of living. Looking into his eyes you could tell how happy he was to have you here with him, especially if it meant spending the night in his room.

“Hey, since you’re here, why don’t we chat until it’s midnight?” He offered, smiling as he fiddled with his thumbs.

You smiled at him, looking him in the eyes before you spoke. How could you pass up an offer like that? It was one of the few uninterrupted times you had with him. No one was going to come in and bother you.

“Okay, because I want to be the first person to wish you a happy birthday!” You answered, noticing the greedy demon blush.

With that being said, the both of you talked.

It was getting rather close to midnight, and you had both talked for quite some time. With still a few moments left to spare, the room went silent as you both thought about everything that you had just covered within the last 55 minutes of talking. Most of it was nothing of interest, just his silly stories that made you both laugh.

That was something he really loved to do. Make you laugh. See you smile. As long as you were happy, he was equally as happy.

“Remember when you first got to Devildom?” He questioned, his voice no louder than a whisper. Your eyes met his. A small smile curling from his lips. You nodded as a reply to his question.

“I don’t know what I was thinkin’ when I thought you were all bad just ‘cause you were human. You’re really great ya know. The more I get to know about ya the more I like ya. I don’t know how I did anythin’ without ya for the last… however many years.” He let out a small chuckle. Your heart fluttering from his kind words.

“You know, I was really skeptical about this place. About you, even, but I’ve come to realize you’re just a big softie.” Your words almost seemed to hurt him. He looked a bit offended. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. You were MY first, after all.”

His eyes found yours again and he couldn’t help but smile a toothy grin from hearing that. He loved hearing such praise from you.

“You are MY human. I ain’t lettin’ no one else have ya. Got it?” He gently pressed a hand to your cheek, luring you closer to him. Leaning in to his touch, you could feel his breath against your skin.

“I, The Great Mammon, am really lucky that I have ya. I’d go as far as sayin’ you’re the best treasure I’ve ever gotten, and I didn’t even have to steal ya.” The heat of his breath lingered on your face, making you smile at his kind words.

“Just kiss me already, moron.”

With that being said, he did as he was told. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss. His lips lingering against yours. Savouring every moment he could. Perfection. It was everything he had ever dreamed of and more.

When he pulled away, the room was silent. Averting his eyes away from you and shifting a bit in his seat. He was embarrassed by how much you and your affection really affected him. Never in all of his years of living did he imagine falling for a human. The demon checked his D.D.D for the time, which indicated it was midnight.

Breaking the silence between you both, he looked back to you.

“...Oh! It’s midnight! The start of my birthday!”

You smiled at his excitement. The last time you’d ever seen him this happy was when he got Goldie back.

“My life wouldn’t be the same without you, Mammon. Happy birthday.”

He was shocked by your comment. He wasn’t expecting such a heartfelt birthday wish.

“Oh man, I just felt my heart melt.” Mammon chuckled. “I’m so happy that I’m even more awake now! How am I going to fall asleep?”

Getting up carefully with a grin, you took his hand and brought him over to his bed where you peeled back the covers to crawl in. Complying after turning off the lights, he got in next to you, pulling you close to him.

“I ain’t lettin’ you go tonight. Got it?” His voice was low. You closed your eyes, he had you wrapped tight in his arms, his warmth transferring to your body. You could feel him breathe out a sigh of relief, enjoying and savouring the moment he had with your body pressed tight against his.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.”

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moonlitceleste · 3 years

Text

New Year’s Day

Timari January Day 1 - New Years Day

@timari-month-event

Note: Happy New Year everyone!! This fic is loosely based off of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift.

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before but

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Mmph.” Marinette tried and failed to muffle her tired groan through the thick fabric of Tim’s coat.

It was 2:00 a.m. on New Year’s, and the designer was just about ready to go into hibernation.

Steph had prompted (read: bugged) Bruce into throwing a party, and he eventually complied. It was relatively small and nowhere near as extravagant as the annual Wayne Gala, but one could argue that was a good thing. There was no need to uphold a reputation or make conversation with stuffy rich people, after all. Judging by the rambunctious behavior that had occurred all night, the restricted guest list definitely seemed like a good thing.

Naturally, Marinette was invited—she was Tim’s girlfriend, although it was arguable she was part of the family regardless of her relationship with him.

Her closeness to the rest of the Waynes was evident in the way she was immediately pulled away for some “girl time” upon entering the manor. Similarly, Dick and the rest of the boys stole Tim away for brotherly bonding.

They chatted, played games, ate cake, and eventually joined the rest of the family for the countdown. Joyous shouts and yells filled the manor, and Marinette stole a kiss from Tim when the clock hit midnight.

The party didn’t stop there, though; from then on, it was drinking games and group activities. Well, drinking games for everyone but Damian. He received a glass of sparkling grape juice instead. He wasn’t very happy about being “treated like a baby,” according to his words, but Marinette took her own glass of the substitute and joined him. She had some important designs to work on tomorrow, and she really didn’t want to wake up with a hangover.

After a while, people started going their separate ways again. Some couples had taken to a room in order to ring in the new year together; others decided to split up into groups and do other activities. Dick dragged Marinette to the gym to show her a cool gymnastics trick he had devised, and the rest of the night was spent hopping rooms to find people and make conversation.

The excitement couldn’t last forever, though, and soon enough the adrenaline started to wear. After an obvious change in the atmosphere, Marinette decided to wander the manor in search of Tim.

She scoured far and wide but failed to find him in the unnecessarily large residence. Rather than continue to wander aimlessly, she decided to wait in one spot until he found her. Sending a text would have been more logical, but her brain didn’t seem to be functioning correctly through its tired haze.

Now, Marinette was standing in the middle of the Wayne Manor living room. The din of celebration had long faded, leaving way for a relatively undisturbed silence. The area bustling with movement just hours earlier was now empty, aside from her and Jason, who was passed out on the couch. She couldn’t tell whether it was from drowsiness or alcohol consumption.

“You tired?”

Marinette yelped softly at the person who had sneaked up behind her. She whirled around, startled, and met Tim’s face. He was mid-laugh, no doubt finding amusement in her reaction. She crossed her arms and pouted, but she really was glad to see him.

Marinette had only spent a few fleeting moments with him that night; she hadn’t really had the chance due to his siblings whisking her away at every opportunity. She didn’t mind—the rest of the Waynes were fun to be around. Maybe a little too fun, because now she was absolutely exhausted.

She fell into Tim’s arms with ease and buried her face in his neck, nodding in response to his initial question.

“Let’s go, then.”

Marinette smiled, pulling back to grab his hand. She nearly started walking, but paused and frowned at the living room.

There were streamers strewn across the floor, alongside metallic confetti, glitter, and glass bottles. Board game pieces were thrown in a haphazard pile, and there was a half-eaten cake on the table. It was one of many. The two Marinette baked had disappeared remarkably fast, but Stephanie had bought a large one from the supermarket as well.

“We should help clean up.”

Tim’s brow furrowed as he considered her statement.

“It’s fine. You didn’t make this mess anyway.”

“Just because I didn’t make it doesn’t mean I can’t help! Besides, you’re not going to let Alfred clean all this up, are you?”

“Actually, Bruce would make the rest of the family help. But you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

Tim rolled his eyes at her antics before giving her a peck on the lips. Marinette smiled and gave him an even longer kiss in return, arms snaking around to rest on his waist.

He reciprocated, but to her dismay, gently pushed her away after a minute.

“I thought you said you wanted to clean?”

Now it was Marinette’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The two moved forward to gather the various things littered around, trying their best to be quiet so as not to disturb the body draped over the couch.

Cleaning up bottles together after a New Year’s party probably wasn’t what one would consider romantic or fun, but Marinette wouldn’t trade this for the world.

You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi I can tell that it's going to be a long road I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

Marinette yawned for the millionth time that night, hands flying up to rub at her eyes tiredly.

She could feel Tim’s chest rumble as he chuckled, and she relished in the heat his body provided.

Although the back of a sketchy Gotham taxi was a far cry from her ideal cuddling place, she couldn’t complain—the chilly weather gave her an excuse to stay close to him. Marinette leaned back, snuggling deeper into her boyfriend’s chest.

She startled at the brief warmth atop her head as he pressed a kiss on her crown. The designer melted at the sweet gesture and turned around, twisting her body to meet Tim’s ice-blue eyes. He smiled at her tenderly, a genuine one she loved seeing on his face, and she sent back a nose wrinkle in return.

He let out a silent laugh at her antics and lifted their intertwined hands, giving them a kiss. This boy was going to break her if he kept being so charming.

He leaned forward and rubbed their noses together in an eskimo kiss before giving her a peck on the lips.

Marinette nearly whined at his show of affection. The things he did to her.

She turned back around, but only halfway, so her side was laying against Tim rather than her back like before. She would have kissed him again, but she doubted either of them wanted to be caught making out by the taxi driver.

Closing her eyes, she let herself relax, knowing she was safe in Tim’s arms. And when he squeezed her hand one, two, three times, she squeezed right back.

I love you.

Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or you're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Wait here.”

Marinette tilted her head in confusion as Tim quickly walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of their living room.

The two had just gotten home to their shared apartment and set their thing down. After an exhausting night, what more could he have planned?

Her questions were answered when Tim rushed back into the room, Bluetooth speaker in hand. It was pink, the one Marinette used to play music whenever she was baking. Sometimes Tim would join in, and they’d twirl around in the kitchen and laugh, spatula in hand.

She watched as he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times; seconds later, a delicate melody filtered through the speaker. It was a slow tune—not one she recognized, but the piano notes made for a romantic and dreamy sound.

“May I have this dance?”

Marinette turned to see Tim bent forward at the waist, one arm outstretched like a Disney prince ready to sweep her away. She giggled at his cheesiness and placed her hand in his.

He pulled her forward smoothly, his other arm finding its way around her waist in a classic waltz position.

They stepped off and moved in sync with the music, slowly but surely. Although she wasn’t the best dancer, Tim made it effortless. They glided over the living room floor so smoothly that Marinette felt like a princess at a ball.

It was their own little bubble of bliss, and she could stay there forever, lost in the moment, lost in Tim’s eyes.

And oh, his eyes. She loved all of him, but there was something she adored so much about them. Maybe it was the determined twinkle present whenever he had figured something out, or the happy glint they assumed when he laughed, or the way they softened ever so slightly whenever he looked at her.

Marinette smiled and joined both hands behind his neck. Tim caught on quickly and circled both arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. She closed her eyes and tucked her head under his chin, swaying side to side with the music.

They both had a lot of things to do tomorrow, but right now the rest of the world didn’t matter. It was just Marinette and Tim—her best friend, her partner, her world—and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @jalaluvsu @nathleigh @too0bsessedformyowngood

#celestewrites #maribat #timari january #timari month #timari #timinette #tim x marinette #cel's fics

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Valentine Boy

(MOBILE-FRIENDLY VERS.)

Special Cover Art by @nakayutasama ❤️

Summary:

You’ve been dating College Student!Jaehyun for a few months now. He’s unbelievably sweet, smart, oh..and very handsome. Best of all, he gives you the best love you’ve ever had. He’s the love of your life and you can’t see anything going wrong as your relationship sails smoothly..that is..until you discover his biggest secret. He’s been hiding the fact that he’s a camboy and you start to wonder..Is Jaehyun as sweet and honest as you think he is?

Pairing: female reader X college student and camboy!Jaehyun

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: cursing, cheating, cam boy (video-recorded sex with online audience), deception, manipulation, blackmail, alcohol use, descriptive smut (fingering, overstimulation, face riding, dirty talk, BDSM themes (handcuff usage, spanking), drunk sex, oral sex (m&f receiving), some masturbation, rough sex, vaginal penetration, breast fondling, dry humping, semi-public sex).

(A/N): I received a message saying that Part 3 was difficult to read on mobile, the app would glitch and eventually close (because we love tumblr for being efficient). So I am splitting part 3 into 3 equal parts of about 7K words each for easier reading. Thank you all again for supporting this fic!!!!🥺❤️

—————

You reach to the back of your dress and grasp at the zipper at the top. You want to move fast, to feel him all over you, bringing you to paradise in this large comfy bed. But it was clear that he wanted to take his time as he sat at the edge of the bed and watched you.

“Turn around.” His voice is so low and demanding. He rarely got like this but you weren’t surprised since he had been upset for most of the night.

You turn and take your dress down your legs while bending over to show him your ass in your pretty lingerie.

You stand up straight and wait for his next instruction. You felt..nervous for some reason. You heard the bedside drawer open and jingling, then, he spoke.

“You’re beautiful…come here.”

You turn and walk to him quickly, your heels clinking against the floor.

He looks up at you, through his long lashes, as his arms rest behind his back. “Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

You do as he says the feel his large hands squeeze your waist. He hums as they float from your hips and around to your ass.

“Does it feel good?” He asks as he squeezes your ass cheeks. Your legs shake a bit as you become turned on by his firm touch. You can just imagine the smirk on his face right now.

“Y-yes.”

“Good.” He says before leaning forward and kissing your stomach, he grabs your wrists with one hand then places them behind your back. You exhale, but before you can enjoy his mouth on your heated skin, you feel ice cold metal replace his hand. The handcuffs lock around your wrists as your eyes fly open.

Jaehyun looks up at you with the most devilish smirk across his face. “Oh, my love, we are going to have so much fun.”

You chuckle. “Where the hell did you find handcuffs?”

Jaehyun bites his lips. “I bought it just for you..since you can’t behave and stay still, I’ll have to force you to.”

You roll your eyes. Jaehyun always had an interesting imagination.

“What if-“ You start but Jaehyun interrupts you.

“Do as I say, baby, or I’ll put the gag in you too.”

Your eyes widen as you gasp.

“Get on your knees.”

You kneel before him, your arms still behind your back in a painful bind. His hard member sticks out of his pants. He pulls his zipper down and begins to stroke it in front of your face.

You lick your lips and bat your eyes.

“Do you want it?” He asks as his hand moves up and down his beautiful shaft, spreading pre cum as the tip twitches.

You nod. “Yes.” His long and girthy dick stands before you, making your chest tremble.

He grunts as he watches you stare in hunger. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, please, I want to taste you.” You beg once again, ignoring the pain in your knees as they dig into the hardwood floor.

“Hmmm…didn’t you say something like “I’m never sucking your dick again?” He teases.

“Yes, but come on Jae, you know I didn’t mean it.” Your legs become weak and soaking at the very spot you need him to be in between.

“And here you are on your knees, begging for it.” He chuckles while moving his cupped hand up and down.

“Well, baby, I can’t do it on my own. Get to work.” He pulls his phone out to record you as you practically leap forward to place your lips on his veiny cock.

You lick a long stripe slowly and really wished your hands were free so that you could stroke him while you licked the tip.

You look into the camera as you lick him again slowly. You swirl your tongue around to collect what leaks from the tip then swallow. “Since when do you like to record me?”

You didn’t mind being recorded. In fact, it made everything even sexier.

“I miss you when I’m at work. Sometimes I just need a little break and this will help me during my most..difficult times.” He winks.

You smile slightly then place your mouth over him and finally take it into your mouth. You move your head up and down while hollowing your cheeks. His tip pushes against the plush surface of your cheek, causing him to let out a throaty groan.

You moan as well as you imagine him being inside your aching pussy next, sliding in and out of it easily.

He’s already worked up as you can feel every vein bulge from the movements of your mouth on him.

You pull away to breathe and let a string of spit fall onto him.

“Fuck..you’re beautiful.”

You go back to work on him, doing your best to cover every inch of him, but struggling without the use of your hands.

Jaehyun takes his free hand and places it onto the back of your head. “Let me help you.”

He thrusts into your mouth abruptly, causing you to choke. He grabs a fistful of your hair and thrusts into your mouth again.

You moan as he continues to fuck your throat raw and fast. The vibrations push him along even further. A tingling sensation overtakes the pit of your stomach as his groaning increases. Tears fall from your eyes and trace over your round cheeks.

You whimper as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

“Just a little more, baby.” He watches you below him in your beautiful lingerie set. Your lovely breasts resting in a neat lace bra and your ass looking ever so pretty in a matching lace thong. The garter hugs your waist beautifully and he can’t help but lose it at the sight of your gorgeous body on the floor, your mouth open and drooling over him as your eyes leak tears.

He grunts and thrusts one last time, holding you down onto him as he coats your throat in strings of his essence.

“Ahhh..good girl.” He breathes heavily and pushes into you a few more times. Your jaw feels like it’s locked and your face is a mess.

He lets you pull your head up. Your lips are swollen as you cough a little. He then places his phone down and grabs your waist, forcing you to stand up. He stands behind you and pushes you down onto the bed. You turn your head and exhale as you anticipate what he will do next.

Then, you feel a sharp slap to your ass.

You cry out from the sudden hit and feel your body fall into the bed more.

“That’s for being a slut tonight.” He grumbles but tilts his head once he sees your thin lace thong becoming increasingly wet from the hit.

He delivers another smack.

“And that’s for getting turned on by me punishing you.”

“I can’t help it, baby, I need you.” You cry out.

He slaps you again.

“Ah!” You yelp.

“You should be happy I’m not using my belt.” Jaehyun would’ve loved to go harder on you, as hard as he goes when he’s being recorded. But you weren’t like her…you needed care and love. He wasn’t just fucking you, he was making love, and he wanted to make sure you were comfortable. Tonight, however, he was wound up and angry at you dancing with someone else. He had to punish you just a little.

“Jaehyun, can’t you see how wet I am, baby? Fuck me pl-“

Another hit. He bites his lips once he rubs his hand over your round butt and feels it becoming warm from irritation. The handcuffs jingle as you struggle against them, but you’re the prettiest sight. Your hands tied behind you as you bend over the edge of the bed with your ass on display for him. Essence running down your shaking legs in a steady stream.

“Not yet, and you know why. Now, stop talking.”

“Make me.” You felt your bratty side slowly creep out as Jaehyun became rougher with you. You liked him this way. It made you both more turned on when you role played.

Jaehyun chuckles softly. “Ah you fucking slut, you have no idea what you’ve done.”

He pushes the thin string covering your needy pussy aside, he watches essence drop from your folds and nearly loses it. He then presses his middle and ring fingers against your slit.

You whimper from the feeling of his fingers finally on your throbbing skin. He gently slides his fingers over and in between, pushing them apart slightly to watch your slick. “Mmm…your pussy is dripping and we haven’t even started yet, sweetheart.”

He grabs your hair with his other hand then pushes his fingers inside you without warning.

“Is this how turned on you get just from sucking me off?”

“Jaehyun!” Your legs shift as you try to adjust to him.

He bites your neck as you moan.

He pushes his fingers in and out of you quickly, his knuckles brushing against your folds repeatedly as he slides in.

Your mouth falls open as his long fingers stretch you out so satisfyingly. They explore your silky walls. His thumb rubs circles onto your clit, making you dizzy.

“Ahh..you’re so wet, this is easy..” He whispers into your ear, the sound of his raspy voice mixing with the sound of your drenched pussy greeting his fingers with every push.

You’re already close to cumming as you clench around them.

“Jaehyun..I’m going to..”

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” He says sarcastically.

He moves his fingers even faster. Your moaning becomes louder and you start to ride his fingers on your own. He curves the tip of his fingers so that they press against your sweet spot.

You moan loudly and back into him more. You wished you could see his face and watch him lick his lips as he uses his fingers to bring you to paradise.

You shake around him as he sucks hard on your collarbone once again.

You cum hard, but he doesn’t stop. “Jaehyun..no, I’m sensitive..” you try to push yourself up away from him.

He then grabs your bound wrists to hold you still.

“I don’t care, you’re gonna take whatever I give you. Isn’t that right, little slut?” His fingers pump in and out once more, you whimper and feel tears build up. Your chest feels weak as you are sensitive and unprepared for another orgasm.

“Jae..oh God..”

He grabs your waist and flips you over. “You’re such a whiny brat.”

He pulls his fingers out, a ‘pop’ echoing out into the room. He hurriedly unhooks your garter from your thong and drags it down your legs. He then bunches it up into his fist and stuffs it into your mouth. You choke as he forces it in.

“There..much better.” He smiles, watching as your eyes water and your mouth stays open with your drenched thong inside it.

You breathe through your nostrils and watch as he goes back to finger you. He moves slowly, enjoying the way your bare opening closes around him while trembling.

“Fuck, I love your beautiful pussy.”

You clench from his words and mewl. You just wished he’d go faster now that you were being built up again.

Your hips move down onto him again, but he places his free hand onto your abdomen to stop you.

He slides them a little faster now, using two fingers from his other hand to rub fast and hard circles onto your bud.

He watches as your essence coats his fingers. You feel so good around him. He can’t wait to feel you around his now hard cock.

You cum again, your back arching and eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moan loudly. So much cum escapes you, you wonder how badly you’ve ruined the sheets.

Jaehyun gets on his knees quickly and fixes his face in between your legs. He licks your pussy as you quiver and shake.

“Jaehyun!” You say in a muffled scream, the feeling of his mouth on you being way too overwhelming as you cum a second time.

Your legs kick and your body moves up on the bed. Jaehyun grips your thighs and forcefully drags you back towards him.

“Stop fucking moving or we’ll be at this all night.”

If it weren’t for your hands being behind you, you would’ve pushed his head away, but his strong grip on your thighs kept you still. He easily overpowered you as his biceps flexed under his shirt to hold you still. All you could do was let your sensitive pussy be consumed by him as you cry.

His hands rest in the crook of each leg, behind the knee. His grip is so harsh you swear there would be an imprint of his hands there once he was done.

He licks up and down your slit, licking up your cum and swallowing it just as you did his. He pushes his tongue in between your folds, moving in and out and from side to side.

You moan as his tongue brushes your clit.

You breathe heavily and start to relax.

“That’s it, baby, you taste so good.” He whispers onto your opening, his breath sends electricity through your body, making you jump slightly.

Your heels press into the bed as he widens your legs even more.

“Look at me..” He commands, his husky voice sending delicious vibrations through your core.

You look down to see a string of spit leaving his mouth and onto your opening. The look in his eyes is sinful. He wants you to watch him devour you like some piece of meat being eaten by an animal.

He continues to lay his tongue flat against you, his lips also pressing onto your folds.

He can’t hold back anymore as his erection becomes almost painful, so he presses his face into you more, his tongue going as deep as possible as your back arches. He curves the tip of it before bringing it upwards and downwards.

Your legs become weak while his nose massages your bud. You can feel that aching in your stomach that tells you you are about to cum again. A bundle of nerves just waiting to be soothed. Jaehyun loves to hear your high pitched squeals and feel the unsteady vibrations of your core as you get close.

He circled his tongue around your clit in a fast pace then licked up the juices that had escaped previously and hummed.

His tongue laps up everything between your folds as you grind your hips onto his face now to chase after your high. He hums as he savors your taste and warmth of your pulsating pussy around his tongue.

The vibrations from his low groans made you see stars and with one final flick of his devilish tongue, you cum for the third time and nearly black out.

He takes his face away and watches as you clench around nothing while liquid comes pouring out.

“Fuck that’s sexy.” He takes his shirt off and stands up before taking his pants off.

He then helps you get to the center of the bed where he kneels over you. He takes your panties out of your mouth and tosses them to the side. He kisses you on the lips, his mouth still wet from being coated with your juices.

When he pulls away, he takes a key from under the pillow and opens your handcuffs. He raises your arms above your head and kisses you deeply, smashing his warm lips onto yours as your eyes close. You smile but before you can thank him for letting you loose, he places the cuffs back on.

“W-what?” You ask with furrowed brows and look into his eyes.

That’s when you realize that he has now placed the chain of the handcuffs around a bar in the headboard so you are bound to it. He was distracting you with a kiss as he did it.

“Jaehyun..that’s not fair.” You pout.

“Life isn’t fair sometimes, baby.” He drags a finger down the side of your face while he pretends to pout as well.

His finger traces down your collarbone and dances around the mark he left earlier. Your skin becomes littered in goose pimples from his light, feathery touch

He reaches under your body and undoes your bra in the back. He throws it to the side before placing both hands on your breasts.

He massages them gently, pushing them together and flicking the nipples as he licks his lips.

He then pushes your legs far apart like they were when he was eating you out, only this time, he pushes his dick into you, pushing deep into your silky wet opening.

You both moan and exhale. He thrusts into you slowly, allowing his cock to rub against every inch of your tight, smooth walls. Your eyes shut tightly as you adjust to him.

He places both hands on either side of your head and watches you take him in while your hands are bound above.

Your eyes are still teary and your lips are still swollen from you biting them.

“Fuck…Jaehyun..you feel so good.”

He nearly loses it when you look up at him with wide eyes. You’re like his own personal doll, open wide and tied up for him alone to use. Your legs look longer in your heels and your body looks even better now without any underwear on it. He fights the urge to go faster, to fuck your insides so hard you couldn’t think straight.

He pushes into you even deeper. You whimper loudly.

“Do you like that? Do you like when I fuck you harder?”

You lick your bottom lip and nod. “Y-yes.”

He thrusts into you hard again, your breasts bouncing.

He picks his phone up. “You look pretty like this, baby.” He snaps a few pictures of you in this position with his cock buried so deep inside you, you can’t see the base of it. Your mouth falls open into a moan as he pulls out and pushes in again, sliding against your shaking walls.

“Harder…” You beg.

He puts his phone down and forces into you with a rough thrust. The headboard moves this time.

You feel like a slut. From the way he looks at you to the way he has you splayed out and begging for more. It all made you feel like a porn star. But you loved it, you loved being like this only for him.

He grips the headboard now and moves faster as he anchors himself above you. Sounds of the bed moving against the wall, his grunts along with your whimpers, and the slapping of skin on skin fill the room.

His abs flex each time he pushes into you with a loud grunt. His hair becomes wet with sweat and dangles over you.

He’s beautiful as he ruins you. He makes you weak with just a single glance, so his stare is overwhelming.

He enjoys the way your breasts bounce up and down with each movement, but he also enjoys having you pinned into the mattress below him.

“Y/n…I love you..” he looks into your eyes before kissing your lips.

He lets out a groan and leans into the crook of your neck. He fucks into your body so deep, your head starts to spin. He hammers your insides and groans.

“Jaehyun..I’m going to..cum.” You let out a high pitched squeal as his veiny dick hits that one spot to drive you insane. Your mouth falls open.

“Fuck.” He mutters out. You’re afraid the headboard might break.

His jaw clenches while he climaxes. You reach your orgasm as well, calling out his name as you see stars.

He moves a few more times so you can ride out your climax but he then pulls out and lays down beside you.

He takes your handcuffs off. “I’m not done with you yet..”

What you didn’t know was that he had taken his performance enhancing supplement that day. Meaning that he could endure several orgasms in one go.

He usually only took it on days when he recorded, but he had taken it just for you tonight. He wanted it to be one that you would never forget.

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Turn over.” He kneels in the bed and motions for you to turn onto your stomach.

Your arms are weak, but you do as he says so that your bare ass faces him.

“Touch yourself.”

You groan. “Baby, please I’m so-“

He smacks your ass hard with his hand, the slap being so loud it came as a shock to your ears.

“Fuck.” You groan.

“Do as I say. No whining or I’ll put the handcuffs back on.”

You start to touch yourself with two fingers running along your slit slowly. Jaehyun kneels behind you and watches.

He wraps his arm under you and brings your lower half up more so that your face is down but your ass is up in the air.

“Good girl.”

He pulls his arm away and begins to stroke his semi-limp cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard, again. Do you think you can handle it?”

You snicker. “Again? When was the first time?”

Jaehyun gasps then slaps your ass a little lighter this time. “I should’ve never taken the handcuffs off, you’re a brat.”

“Then punish me, baby, I’m waiting.” You tease him as you push your fingers in and out.

He pulls your hand away and holds your waist, pulling your ass flush against his pelvis as he slams into you.

“Ahh!!” You cry out as he fucks you roughly from behind so soon after your orgasm.

Your head goes upward, but he grabs your hair and forces your head back down onto the bed.

He pushes into you harder and grunts as he feels your tight, drenched walls around him once again.

His speed increases and so does the volume level of your moans. He decides to push hard into you, releasing all of his anger and frustrations out on your body. He grabs your waist powerfully, his fingernails digging into your skin to leave a bruise.

Your ass cheeks slap against him, filling the room with lewd sounds. His tip reaches the low part of your stomach. You cry out his name as he fucks you so hard into the bed. He moves faster and you begin to clench uncontrollably. You begin to drool on the bed, your eyes are watery as tears escape. He feels so good as he ruins your guts and makes you feel raw.

“You like this, don’t you? Being fucked like the slut you are..” He grabs your hair and bends your neck backward so he can growl into your ear.

You see the dark look in his eyes, the way his nose scrunches as he pounds into you and goes harder than he’s ever gone before. “Yes! Yes, oh my God..” He fits into you perfectly, sliding his delicious length in and out like it’s easy.

He brings one of your legs up over his shoulder so he can enter you from a different angle, one that he knows will drive you crazy for sure. High pitched noises escape you. Jaehyun bites his lips, watching your body glisten with sweat and breasts move up and down.

“You’re all mine..you’d never leave me because you’d miss this too much, wouldn’t you? My little slut..” His dick grinds against your walls and hits your sweet spot each time it enters.

“Jaehyun! Fuck!”

He rubs your clit while still thrusting into you so hard, the bed creaks. “Touch me right there…” You moan.

“Good girl..so fucking tight.” He pants and releases into you.

Your bodies shake and collapse onto the bed as you both cum harder than ever before. Something about Jaehyun being so dominating turned both of you on.

Jaehyun pulls out of you, laying beside you so he can just stare at you for a moment. Your body is tired and weak and soon you fall asleep. Jaehyun cleans you up while adoring the way you sleep so fast. You snore lightly and your mouth falls open.

He knows things could’ve gone better that night, but he is still thankful that the two of you are together and cuddling during your last night in Bali.

————

[Last Day In Bali]

The sunlight couldn’t be any brighter as its rays peaked through the slim blinds and onto your bed. You grumble a little bit when you feel the heat on your arm. You turn over slowly, your body still aching from the night before. But you’re able to reach out and tap the fluffy white blanket next to you.

“J-Jaehyun?” You say, peering out through one eye to see your brown haired boyfriend.

But you don’t see him.

As your senses awaken, you hear the tapping of keys in the living room.

“In here, babe!” Jaehyun yells out.

You smile when you hear his sweet voice and lay back down in the bed. “Oh my God, I can’t feel my legs.” You chuckle.

“Ahh..sweetheart..I didn’t even go that hard on you..” He trots into the bedroom with a cup of coffee.

“Here..I’m working on a paper that’s due tomorrow, but I’m almost finished.” He places the cup down on the dresser beside you before ruffling your hair with his fingers.

He looks delectable with no shirt on and just boxers. His soft hair is still messy too, falling into his forehead limply.

You clutch the blanket to your naked chest and smile widely. “Thanks, baby..how do I look?”

“Hmmm..” Jaehyun tilts his head and smirks. “Like someone pulled your hair a few times last night..”

You chuckle a less than sexy laugh, but lick your lips as you remembered the way he pinned you against the bed just a few hours ago.

You sit up on the bed and place a finger into the waistband of his boxer shorts, tugging it teasingly as your eyes lock. “I miss having my hair pulled…”

He bites his bottom lip and sighs as he watches your daring eyes below him. A low groan escapes his perfect lips.

“Mmm..baby, I wish we could..but I have to finish this assignment..”

You pout and withdraw your finger. “Okay.”

“I’ll make it up to you later baby, it’s our last day in Bali..we’ll go to the beach one last time and do whatever you want to do.” He holds your chin and rubs his thumb on it.

You smile. “Okay, my smart baby, get back to work!”

Jaehyun gives your forehead a light kiss and leaves.

“Professors that assign homework to do during spring break don’t make any sense!” You yell out and fall back into the bed.

Jaehyun only laughs and sits back on the couch with his laptop.

After about two hours, Jaehyun finally finishes his work and walks back to the room. He plops down into the bed and places his iPad in the center.

You put your phone down and turn to him.

“Wanna watch some Tik Toks with me?” He gives you a cheesy smile.

“Of course! You look like you could use some decompressing..” You rub your hand on his hair and smooth it out of his face.

He takes the move as an opportunity to kiss your wrist.

“Hey!” You laugh at the ticklish feeling and move your hand.

The two of you watch many, way too many, videos well into the afternoon. But losing track of time with the one you loved the most was okay.

You and Jaehyun laughed together as you laid on his chest and scrolled through his ‘for you page’. You’d look up at his face every now and then just to watch him laugh. His eyes crinkling into thin lines and his dimples becoming deeper than any of the earth’s trenches. The warmth from his chest when something made him echo out thunderous laughs and the way his fingers drew small circles onto your naked back. He made everything feel right in that moment. Your spring break with Jaehyun was working out to be one of the best vacations you’d ever had. You never wanted it to end.

“Alright…I think it’s time we head to the beach..” You rub your eyes.

“Yeah..but remember when you said you missed having your hair pulled?” Jaehyun’s raspy voice entered your ear.

You put your hand onto his chest and looked into his eyes. “That was a while ago, Mr. I-am-a-devoted-student.”

Jaehyun pouted. “Hey..don’t be so harsh, sweetheart…does the offer still stand?” He places his thumb onto your lips, running over it slowly.

You open your mouth slightly then stick your tongue out. You lick over the top of his thumb while looking into his eyes.

Jaehyun’s breath hitches. He swallows hard as he watches you take the rest of his thumb into your mouth and past your gorgeous lips.

You lift your head up and place the iPad to the side. You then crawl over his lap and straddle him.

You bite your lips as you feel his hardening member strain against his boxers. The thin fabric of it being the only thing separating your bare opening from his aching manhood.

He immediately places his hands on your thighs and relaxes into the bed.

You move forward and backward slowly, too slowly. Your hands are resting on his toned chest as he struggles to breathe normally.

He pushes up into your body more, trying to stay at your pace but finding it difficult as your beautiful body moves above him. You’re like an angel. Even with disheveled hair and smudged makeup, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

“Ahh..baby..” Jaehyun licks his lips. “You’re beautiful..so beautiful.”

Jaehyun is fully hard now and reaches into his shorts to pull his dick out. But you hold his wrist and shake your head.

“Not yet..” You whimper, your entire body trembling as you tease him, your folds now dripping from the steady movement. You swivel your hips and grind down onto him a little harder.

Jaehyun groans just as you lean down to kiss him. The taste of alcohol and coffee on his tongue sends a rush through your head.

“Baby..please..I wanna feel you..” Jaehyun looks into your eyes as you pull away from the kiss. He tightens his grip on your thighs.

You give a half smile then lean down to his ear and whisper. “You can feel me..after you shower..”

Jaehyun pouts.

“You smell like alcohol, babe.” You plop down onto the bed beside him and laugh.

He sighs loudly and turns over to you. “Why do you do this to me?”

You run your hands through his hair. “Get washed up baby, we can’t spend our last day here inside!”

Jaehyun hurries into the shower as you laugh.

You hear the water start to run in the shower and get up to get your outfit for the day together. But as you arise from the bed, you see a notification pop up on Jaehyun’s IPad.

It’s a text message.

From someone named ‘R’.

“It was nice seeing you last night ;)”

Your brows furrow. Who could this be? Who of Jaehyun’s friends had a name that started with R? And why wouldn’t he just save their real name? How could he have seen this person last night when you were both at the club together? This person had to be texting the wrong number.

Another text comes in..it’s from the same person.

“Can’t wait til you get back..”

You stare blankly at the IPad, trying to remain calm as you read through these mysterious and yet flirty messages. Or were you over exaggerating? Maybe this person was just a classmate working on a project with Jaehyun, maybe it was someone from your university that just so happened to be in Bali for Spring Break like you guys were, because Bali is a popular destination for college kids, right?

But why were you looking at his IPad anyway? You should’ve respected his privacy, but you had your suspicions still. You just couldn’t push them away, could you?

Another text..

“I’m gonna make up for it when you get back, Jaehyun, gonna show you..”

“Everything alright?” Jaehyun’s low voice speaks out from behind you. He’s so close, you feel his warm breath hit the back of your neck.

You swallow hard and turn to him. You didn’t hear the water stop or even his light steps. Did he know that you were reading his texts?

He stared into your eyes intensely then shifted his attention back to his screen on the bed. You stepped in front of it and smiled.

“Y-yeah..everything’s fine..I just..I got kinda dizzy when I stood up too fast.” You chuckled but Jaehyun only gave you a small smile.

“Are you okay now?”

“Yeah! I’m fine!”

Jaehyun forces a wider smile and nods. “Good! I was wondering if you wanted to shower with me..we’ll save on water. It’ll be good for the Earth.” He raised his eyebrows and winks.

You smile and join him for a shower, forcing the many thoughts you had away. You don’t want to ruin the vacation as Jaehyun had accused you of doing the night before during your little “fight.” You want it to be a good time for both of you, so you continue on and go to the beach.

‘R’ could’ve simply been a classmate or friend of Jaehyun. You shouldn’t overthink it, there had to be an explanation. While walking on the beach together with your hand in his, you try to think of your moments together. Sweet and tender moments of laughter like this morning, or when he held you bridal style when you first went to the hotel. Or when he surprised you with a large bouquet of flowers while you were in class and risked getting scolded by the professor.

That was the Jaehyun you knew. There was nothing to worry about with him. He loved you and proved it many times, so why did you feel this unshakable tremble in your chest that screamed ‘danger’?

—————

[Two Weeks Later]

Back in class, you tried hard to focus on the lessons, but something still upset you.

“I’m gonna make up for it when you get back.” What did that mean? And what else did that person text?

But then, you rubbed your eyes and looked back at your computer screen.

You thought about Jaehyun’s sweet smile and how he loved you during your break together. You smiled to yourself and remembered when he told you he missed you whenever he was at work.

The person next to you then took out their container of strawberries and popped the cover off. The sweet smell filled your nostrils and made you exhale. You could really use some refreshing fruit from Bali right now.

That’s it! You could visit Jaehyun at work and drop off a basket of fruits from the market. It was time that you spoiled him for once. He’s given you so much already, it’s the least you could do. You smile to yourself as you imagine the grin that would grace his face once you surprised him.

Luckily, you remember the name of the place that he works at, even though he mentioned it only once in the past and never again.

You show up to the prestigious building with your best dress shirt and office skirt on. You wanted to look professional as it was a very serious work place. You just hope that you came late enough to deliver these fruits and not upset the manager.

The woman at the front desk looks intimidating, but you put on your brightest smile.

“Hi, excuse me, I’m looking for Jaehyun. I think he’s working right now.” You give a small smile to the older blonde haired lady with a silk Versace handkerchief tied around her neck.

She gives you a small smile and nods, “I’m sorry dear, but there’s no employee here by that name.”

“Oh..um, could you look again? I’m sure he’s just not showing up in the system, but he’s working until 5 today.”

She sighs then takes a look at her screen. “Hmmm..nope! No one here by that name, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re not thinking of ‘Johnny’?”

“No-no it’s Jaehyun…Um there may be a misunderstanding or something..” You blink rapidly.

She shakes her head and turns the computer screen to you. “See…here’s the schedule for next week..”

You scroll through the names.

“Normally, I wouldn’t show this to anyone…” She whispers, but you’re too focused on finding his name to listen.

Taeil.

You continue scrolling until you get to the bottom.

Jaehyun’s name isn’t there on the list of employees..

It didn’t make any sense. Your grip on the basket starts to weaken. You can feel a small crack in your beautiful world start to spread.

Jaehyun lied to you..all this time. This wasn’t even his workplace.

You step back as she turns her screen back to face her. You look at the floor and fight back tears.

“Dear…are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” But you really weren’t. You couldn’t fight back the tears anymore. The floor below you became decorated with one, then two, then three teardrops.

“Here.” You wipe your eyes and hand the fruit basket to the lady at the desk.

She looks puzzled.

“Sweetheart..” she starts.

“Please!! Just take it!..I’m sorry for wasting your time..” you turn and leave the fruit basket on the front desk.

There were too many thoughts running through your mind. You walked heavily, with fury running through your veins and clenched fists.

How could he take you for a fool like this? How could he lie to you? Was he spending time with ‘R’ whenever he said he was “working”?

But you would confront Jaehyun, you would get answers when you met up for dinner. You had to know the truth and let him know that whatever game he was playing was over.

————

[Later That Night]

You meet up with Jaehyun at your favorite restaurant. You wait for him outside and when you see him walk over, you stare blankly.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby!” Jaehyun gives you a bright smile as he trots over. Maybe he didn’t see your frown, or wet, red eyes..maybe he didn’t notice your voice crack before you swallowed hard.

“We need to talk.” You look up at him once he stands over you. His bright smile fades slowly and his grip on the strap of his backpack tightens.

“You’ve been lying to me, where have you been?” You say sternly, your lips pursed as Jaehyun stands tall in front of you now.

“What are you talking about?” He gives you a confused look.

“Cut the bullshit, Jaehyun, I went to your ‘job’ to bring a gift because I’m a nice girlfriend, but to my surprise, you weren’t there. And you know what the icing on the cake is? You’re never fucking there, you don’t work there, Jaehyun! And don’t you dare lie to me with some dumb excuse, don’t insult my intelligence! Because the nice lady at the front desk even showed me the schedule and guess whose name was on it? Taeil’s but not yours!” Your voice raises, but there is no one around to hear.

Jaehyun’s mouth opens and you see a slight panic in his eyes. “Y/n..you can’t be serious.. Why are you getting upset with me? That lady is new! She doesn’t even know how to operate the employee system properly yet! I’ve only seen her once.”

You scoff. “Oh God, here we go..”

“Y/n! I wouldn’t lie to you, okay?”

“Then why aren’t you on the schedule and everyone else is?! Did she just delete your name completely?”

“My name isn’t on the schedule for next week because I asked for time off..after all we’ve been through..” He shakes his head and turns away.

“Don’t give me that, Jaehyun! We just had spring break, why would you need to take time off?”

“Because my dad fucking hates me, okay?!! He keeps putting pressure on me because I’m failing my fucking business classes. They aren’t easy, none of this shit is easy, especially when it comes to being his only son! He’s going to stop paying for my classes if I don’t get pre-selected for the business school by the end of this term, so yeah I need a fucking break!”

He turns back to you once you remain quiet after his outburst. “Listen..I’m sorry..I’m sorry, I’m just stressed out…I should’ve told you I was gonna take time off, but I don’t understand why you are making me feel guilty about this?..”

You feel an immense pain in your heart. You feel guilt, confusion. You had accused Jaehyun without considering his personal issues at home. From the very beginning, he told you just how demanding and controlling his father was. He told you that he loved painting and creating art and hated that he would have to take over his father’s position in a big company one day.

It was something he struggled with constantly. The tug of war between being who he is expected to be and being who he truly wants to be.

“I’m sorry, forget I said anything.” You say quietly now.

“Trust me…please just trust me, I’m not hiding anything, I need you to understand that if we are going to make this work.” Jaehyun steps towards you and places his hands on your arms.

You look away.

“Unless..you don’t love me..do you want to end things? I try so hard, but it isn’t enough, is it?” Jaehyun looks at you through teary eyes.

You shake your head and look back at him with furrowed brows. “Jaehyun..”

“No. It’s okay, let’s just end it since you don’t trust me.” Jaehyun says.

“Jaehyun, no, I love you and I’m sorry. It’s my fault for blowing up at you. But I love you so much..I just wanted to surprise you.” You break down into a sob before he takes you into his arms and holds you close.

“Shhh…it’s okay..I’m sorry too..” He kisses your forehead. You look up at him and kiss his lips.

The two of you stand there for a moment, embracing each other lovingly, enjoying the proximity of your bodies and the way they fit perfectly together.

PART 3.1 | PART 3.2 | PART 3.3

#nct x reader #nct au #jaehyun au #jaehyun smut #nct smut #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun series #jaehyun imagine #jung jaehyun #nct jaehyun

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develation · 3 years

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SCP AU

So @emeraldtrainer1 (Ao3), @writingforfunandbecauseboredom (Ao3), and DarkstarWolf53 (<-Dunno if they have Tumblr) did an SCP AU three-way Convo fic some months ago. I really enjoyed the outline and concept and asked if I could expand on it. With their permission and about a month of research into what the actual SCP Foundation is (and holy cow there is so much, no wonder people are all over this) I've finally managed to get a start on this. There is a decent amount of things that are different from their original Convo (via their permission) but it will basically follow the same storyline that they created. Please go check their Convo out, it's a very long and fun read with a lot of good fluff and Angst mixed in.

I will hopefully be drawing some of my designs soon but for now, writing seems to be the way to go. Here is a link to it on Ao3 -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/33213928/chapters/82464553

I'll also have it below in case you would like to read it on Tumblr instead.

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Error: (The End Of All But Me.) There are too many unworldly traits that spiders have that I couldn't just not give to Error, so I've kind of combined their Puppetmaster concept to my design. He has 4 arms with clawed fingertips, his tail is prehensile and his jaw can split open. He has 5 tongues still, 2 of them are spear-like, and can shoot out and impale victims. The saliva produced under the tips of the barbs on the two tongues can liquidity a prey items insides so he can drink them up (still a clean freak, using the skin as a cup and drinking up any mess leaving a skin bag behind). His other three tongues are prehensile and can extend to an unknown length, they are barbed aswell but do not carry the venomous saliva. Strings wrap along his bones from his eye sockets, which he uses to create a nest atop the ceiling of his cell.

SCP-002's (Apollyon class) cell is a blank room (it ask for a TV later on) that goes up vertically 2 floors. The top half is required to be shrouded in darkness as it likes voids of either white or black. It has filled the darkness of its cell with a nest of strings that it spends all of its time in, even when feeding. It does not attempt to attack staff, when asked why it replied with, "Not yet." Personal have not been able to decipher what it means by that statement. In an interview via speakers and mics within containment cell, it was asked why SCP-002 stares off at seemingly nothing for extended periods of time and never touches the ground. Subject responded with, "Busy." When asked what it was busy doing- "Watching." When asked what it was watching- "The world. Everything." Due to this experience, it can be concluded that 002 can view any place in the world and perhaps beyond via "screens". These "screens" are unviewable to anyone but 002 and 001 as the latter SCP had called them so, hence their given name. SCP-002 has a strange relationship with SCP-001 and it can not be determined if 002 likes or dislikes 001.

Ink created Error on accident. In the beginning, Ink didn't know what he was doing, and the brutality of Earth's natural forces of destruction were uncontrollable. If he wanted to bring life to his chosen planet he needed a way to control the chaos. And so through the storm, a new force was born. And even if Ink didn't create it, he did wish for it.

Error is a ticking time bomb for extinction. He waits and watches until he decides it's time for a "spring cleaning" and starts his work. The Ordovician, Late Devonian, Permian, Triassic, and Cretaceous mass extinctions were all him. He deemed the human race ready for a "cleaning" a long time ago and Ink agreed with him, ready to see and make something new. But Nightmare threatened the both of them by stating that he would make the earth forever inhabitable and they would have to kill him before he stoped his rage. Nightmare fears that if another extinction event were to occur he'd lose his boys.

Ink: (God doesn't care about what's right or what's wrong. God just wants to watch interesting things happen.) His form is always changing, different traits from different animals and organisms he's created. Ink is basically Gaia. Born when Theia crashed into Earth around 4.5 billion years ago, he made everything that ever existed. Since he's made A LOT of organisms he has a ton of favorites and the traits from them are what mostly show up when he mutates. Sometimes it's Kaprosuchus with belonged snout and fangs. Sometimes it's Tylosaurus with its marine reptilian posterior. Sometimes it's Chital Deer and their antlers. More often than not though, his tail has consistently stated having bristle-like hair at the tip of it, which is basically his brush. The concept of paintbrushes is pretty new to him since the human race has been around for a short time compared to other species, so while he does have one, his tail is his broomie. If his next from doesn't have it then he just uses his hands and his blood.

Ink can't be contained. It's that simple, he just can't. He just sticks around because it's interesting and hilarious to see his creations so intelligent but so stupid. (remember how humans are still young in terms of Earth's age, so the fact that they're so smart... on a thought level that could almost match his own is so very interesting to see and watch. even if there ruining his planet.) The SCP foundation just has to let him do his thing and hope that he doesn't override 003's and 004's decision to not have an extinction event.

His cell is basically a mini-ecosystem, with all of his favorite organisms living within whether they are extinct or not. He loves his little sample of the world and it keeps him in his cell for a good amount of time so the foundation let him have it. If any of them even touch what is HIS without permission then he rips them apart and feeds them to the baby Rhamphorhynchus. Don't touch his babies.

...Cross though... he can touch his babies... and Dream... and maybe Error... That's it though!

SCP-001 (Apollyon Class) is a being older than all living things, despite his toddler-like mannerisms. Even more infuriating, within an interview, 001 openly admitted to being the cause of all SCP's and their anomalous effects. It stated that they were all just mistakes and/or experiments, testing the limits of their own abilities. 001's quoted response- "You don't get it do you? I made everything here! All of your little "SCP's" are just of my creation as all of you. Sure there all mistakes but, it just proves my point that it's time to start over again. A clean slate y'know? Pfft- wow you look mad! If it makes you feel any better, I don't like most of them either. They were cool at first but... it's like flicking black paint over a finished painting. Sure, you can try to get over it but eventually, it will just bother you so much that you just can't stand it! Well... I do kinda want some of them to stay... If I could just convince Ru..." -shows evidence to this conclusion. Termination trials were approved by the 05 Council, though have not been able to start since 001's creation of a barrier around its cell, preventing entry of anything that tries to pass.

[Note: Error, Dream, and Nightmare are not included in what Ink views as "mistakes". Y'know when you're trying something new and you don't know what you’re doing, yet it works somehow. That's them, happy accidents. Ink adores them.]

Ink finds the attempt of Termination trials on him to be absolutely hilarious. The fact that humanity's insecurity about their lifespan and control is so great that they'd try to KILL HIM. Amazing. He can't believe he's managed to make the simultaneously best and worst organism ever.

Dream: (When day breaks.) Again he was accidentally created by Ink’s actions in an intense solar storm. The flare drifting over the earth in combination with Ink’s magic still working to bring life brought him to existence. Dream’s design is almost harpy-like, with beautiful golden, sun-like wings with a small feathery crest atop his skull. Two tail-like feathers sprout from the crest that can rise up and down depending on expression and mood. He also has bird feet and legs, and a tail.

Dream adores all life, his is the warmth and growth of the sun (original form being a ball of light and plasma that literally looks like a mini sun). He is basically like a piece of the sun on earth. His cell is kinda like Ink’s, only in the fact that there are just a couple of animal species. Some deer, birds, and insects mainly. Ink obviously just appeared in his cell one day and made it for him. While Dream could be considered to be a Safe SCP, his ability to damage or completely ruin the planet if inraged prevents that classification.

SCP-003 (Apollyon Class) has proven to be a relatively docile creature. It is elegant in nature (like that of a bird) and shows greater empathy towards all life in general. Unlike SCP’s 001, 002, and 004 who view it as more interesting and admirable, more like a pretty crystal than an actual being with its own consciousness. 003 can not be fully contained and has shown the ability to travel through light rays. Its aura has also shown to be some form of anesthesia, and exposure for prolonged periods causes victims to feel more at peace and calm. 003 does have the capability to travel through the “dreamscape”, what exactly that in tails is unknown.

Dream doesn’t agree with the extinction event thing because the Holocene period hasn’t lasted for nearly as long as it should. On the other hand, he does distaste humanity/monsterkind for all it has done to the planet. Even so, he feels like they deserve more of a chance.

Nightmare: (Does the Black Moon howl?)(Death) Complete with the theme of being Dreams opposite, Nightmare was born from a black moon and the combination of Ink’s magic bringing life to the earth. He isn’t an evil force or anything, just the night to the day. His design is pretty true to OG nightmare, although his legs and feet share the same digitigrade format. His tentacles are more ghostly than slimy and they drip upwards instead of towards the ground. His bones also have a ghost;y wisp to them, but it isn’t that noticeable. Instead of only having a turquoise glint in his magic, there are sparks of purple aswell. (His original form being a black sphere of what looks like smoke).

His cell is basically an entrance to a cave system that Ink had made for him. Inside is a galaxy of crystals and gemstones that glow and sparkle like the night sky. A small stream runs through, the light refracting off of the water, adding to the glow effect. It is a nice calm place for Nightmare to just chill in, his separate own little world.

Nightmare is kind of mysterious, in the realm of Error in which he likes to watch things happen. Just lurking in the shadows, a quiet observer. Though, he wasn’t as fascinated by life as the others. So to prevent his boredom Ink made him a present- Killer. Nightmare hated the little thing at first but it didn’t take too long to grow fond of the little guy. Not too long later Ink pronounced his joy in watching Nightmare sigh in frustration by sending 2 more bundles his way -Dust and Horror- and Nightmare had to threaten Ink to stop before any more joined the fray.

SCP-004 (Apollyon Class) is an entity whose intentions are completely unknown. A mysterious being that chooses to dwell in the cave system 001 made for it. The entity refuses to interact with personal unless in interview. And when it does respond, it does so in riddles and metaphors. It seemingly takes joy asking more questions than the interviewer, turning the conversation in its favor. On such question that has been repeated multiple times - “Does the Black Moon howl?” has puzzled personal. Though 004 states that if answered correctly and explained why, then it will share its secrets with that person and that person only.

004 proves to be uncontainable like its counterparts, able to travel through shadows. SCP’s 012, 032, and 024 seem to be “followers” of 004, and regularly go missing from their cells. Most likely 004’s doing.

[Ink created Killer, Dust, and Horror during the era where dinosaurs were still alive, so they have some traits from them.]

Killer: (War) Was created by Ink for Nightmare to keep him entertained. Killer was born as a baby in Ink’s very hands, a little skeleton with curved blades for hands and digitigrade legs and feet (and little quills on his back). Growing up under Nightmare’s care was an interesting experience, but he thought Kill’s everything he needed to know.

-[SCP-012, Keter]-

Killer is fast, very fast. And he enjoys killing things (what a surprise). He’s pretty much the same cocky boi as always. His more SCP side is that he doesn’t seem to ever feel pain and the black liquid that leaks through his eyes. That can be used as a type of venomous toxin to whatever he pleases.

Dust: (Pestilence) You know Epidexipteryx and Therizinosaurus? Those are Dust hands, long with even longer claws. He can also turn into literal dust, more of a phantom or wraith in nature. He can walk through walls, and turn others to dust and grow himself if he wishes.

He and Horror could be twins since Ink made them both at the same time. Holding his little creations in his arms as they wriggled and whined in confusion at suddenly being alive.

-[SCP-032, Keter]-

Dust is pretty quiet and tame. He has his episodes but he stays pretty much the same as bookwrym’s, writing’s, and Dark’s Dust.

Horror: (Famine) Since Horror is a vent crawler I based his design on that. Horror’s second set of arms are like a praying mantis with an extra joint, hands serrated blades almost like Killer’s. He used to sit in trees and wait for prey to walk underneath him, plucking them from the ground with his long arms and eating them alive.

Same thing when in vents, just waits over the openings and plucks a person off of the ground and into the vent (if personal don’t keep up with his feeding times)

-[SCP-024, Euclid]-

Other than his design Horror is pretty much the same as bookwyrm’s, writing’s, and Dark’s concept.

Outer: [SCP-044, Safe] His stardust makes him have luminescent galaxy and star patterns on his bones. He floats regularly without control over it and can sometimes make other objects float, in rare cases people, aswell. Ink made him a jacket where pieces of its hood and aglets float off like a sort of fluffy foam. The pieces orbit him like planets to a star before joining back, making a continuous cycle.

(And yes writingforFUN, he will still keep his anime sparkling eyelight’s).

Cross: [SCP-00X, Thaumiel] Was created by Dr. X to help contain and terminate Keter SCP’s. Being forced to kill his brother when he turned Keter, not completely in control of his actions. Dr. X’s “programing” making him see his brother no longer as such, just an object to be eliminated. When Cross became uncontrollable Dr. X put wiped his memory without the 05’s or administers permission and an MTF was sent after him that came back empty-handed. Cross was brought back soon enough and had his memory wiped.

They bring him back in as a staff member and that’s when the story kicks off, mostly following bookwyrm’s, writingforFUN, and Dark’s original outline/convo.

(I apologize for any typos)

#undertale au #scp au #writing

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keelywolfe · 3 years

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FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.18 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch has already dealt with the local sheriff about his adventures in the local woods. Seems like Edge might have a thing or three to say.

~~*~~

Read ‘Electric Boogaloo’ on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was funny how some things become automatic. Stretch was still thinking about Buford when Edge came into the store not long after the sheriff left. Still thinking about those strange white eyes of his, wondering at exactly how much he could see. How much, how far, how deep did it go. Stretch knew a little something himself about seeing a bit too much.

Still, habits were habits. Even though his mind wasn’t necessarily working in the here and now, Stretch automatically stood up straight and greeted Edge when he came in, customer service skills were a heck of a learned trait, even if he was the only one who worked here that had them.

“morning, hey, what’s up? what do you—" need, he didn’t get to say. He barely had time to notice that Edge didn’t look like his normal gorgeous self, hips notwithstanding. Sure, he was wearing his normal motorhuckle gear and he was walking like he was on his way to kill Captain America. But he looked pale, his skull chalk-white and stark, his eye lights faded to a shade closer to dull pink.

That wasn’t what cut off his ‘can i help you’ spiel. Nope, that was Edge stalking right over to the counter and around it into the register area. Stretch found himself roughly pulled into Edge’s arms and held in a painfully tight hug that nearly threatened to crack ribs.

Okay? This was new but fuck it if Stretch wasn’t going to go for it. He wrapped both arms around Edge and squeezed back, relished the feel of that long, lean body against his own, even buffered under a layer of leather. “um. hi?”

Edge said nothing, only held on, with all ten fingers digging in through the back of Stretch’s t-shirt and damned if he was gonna try fight his way loose. Was it his imagination or was Edge shaking a little? Or maybe that was the earth moving under his feet because Edge smelled so good, no bone cologne could compare. Like spice and woodsmoke, like the heavenly pies he made for Mama’s.

Nothing to be done for it, might as well dive into the deep end and see if he could drown. Stretch closed his sockets and basked in it, reveled in it. Maybe this was some weird frosting on top of an already bizarre cake but Stretch really wanted his slice.

After a minute, Edge was showing no signs of letting up and much as Stretch would’ve been perfectly fine standing like this all day, probably he should say something. It’d be pretty hard to run register if he was stuck to Edge like a conjoined twin and considering that they were sort of the same person, maybe better not to risk it.

It was just a damn shame that Stretch was so shitty at digging beneath the layers of other people’s traumas. Hell, he could barely take a shovel to his own.

He managed to work up enough air to wheeze out, “is…something wrong?” A horrible thought occurred. What if he wasn’t the only person the lady ghoul went to visit last night? Maybe she took the nickel tour of the woods, maybe Buford’s all-seeing eye blinked and missed something. “is frisk okay?”

“Yes,” Edge choked out. His voice was muffled into Stretch’s shoulder. “Everything is fine.”

Stretch shifted in his arms and only managed about an inch in any direction. “don’t take this the wrong way, but as fine as this feels, you don’t seem fine.”

That didn’t get any reply. Instead, Edge loosened his grip just enough to press his face into the hollow of Stretch’s collarbone where he inhaled deeply, mouth opened as if he wanted to taste whatever scent gathered there, get the whole experience.

Um. Holy shit. Okay, well, that was a fetish Stretch never knew he had, and if he wasn’t pinned like a sardine in Edge’s kung-fu grip, he might’ve honest to angel flailed at the feel of damp, hot breath against his clavicles. Every time Edge decided to go through his scratch ‘n sniff routine, it sent willie wonkers tingling right up his spine and right down his pants. All he could do was grit his teeth and stare blankly up at the ceiling as he tried desperately not to embarrass himself any more than the usual.

Finally, all too soon, Edge drew away. He took two steps back, putting some distance between them. He seemed almost embarrassed now and Stretch could only reluctantly let him go.

He was really, really grateful for his work apron right about now; good for catching dust and gook, with a side bonus of hiding inconvenient boners. Hopefully it wasn’t the not-at-all-a-pencil-in-his-pocket that chased Edge away. “not that i mind, like, really not, but you think you could let me in on what that was all about?”

“I’m sorry,” Edge said, stiffly. He crammed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked anywhere but at Stretch.

“uh, nope,” Stretch shook his head, “no apologies, hugs are free real estate.” He’d been this close to Edge before a couple of times but always before there had been distractions. Now looking at him was the distraction and Stretch let his gaze linger on the razer-sharp lines of his cheekbones, the tight narrowing of his eye sockets. The crack that ran through his left socket was obviously old, the edges worn relatively smooth, smoother than their owner.

Edge still didn’t look at him, not directly, anyway. A flick of his eye lights towards Stretch, then back away as he said, tightly. “We came very close to losing you last night. It was…upsetting.”

Oh.

Well, good news traveled fast, didn’t it, basically at the speed of light around these parts. He wondered glumly if Red was in his apartment busily composing a profanity-laden symphony titled ‘I Told You So.’

“How did you know?” Stretch sighed out. Maybe Frisk was tuned in to the local airwaves or Edgar Allen might branch out into branches instead of corn gossip.

“Buford,” Edge admitted. “He is the town constable, he looks after the town. Literally, in his case.”

Also had a big mouth, seemed like. “yeah, uh, he showed me his eyes.”

“Did he?” Edge seemed surprised, then pleased. “He usually wears his sunglasses. He rarely takes them off when he’s on duty because outsiders tend to find his eyes unsettling. But yes, it’s his duty to watch out for problems and he does it well.”

Stretch nodded slowly, “must be tough on him sometimes, seeing all that.” He had a little personal experience in that.

“Buford does his duty,” Edge said with a certain finality. Welp, looked like that topic was done and Stretch was fine with that since Edge was starting to look a little calmer. His eye lights weren’t on Stretch’s but lower, focused more on the mouth region and when Stretch flicked his tongue across his teeth nervously, those crimson lights went heavy and dark.

To his disappointment, Edge didn’t go for Ginormous Hug 2: Electric Boogaloo. Instead, he reeled back, shaking himself visibly and turning towards the door. “Well. I only wanted to check in on you, I should be going.”

“wait!” Stretch blurted and Edge hesitated, raising one browbone. “don’t go, not yet.”

He waved a hand in offering at the stool behind the counter and after a moment of hesitation, Edge stepped around the dog and took it. Mutt never stirred, burrowed down in the blanket Red had laid down for him, snoring away. Good thing they hadn’t been in the market for a guard dog.

Stretch hopped up on the counter to sit, (hey, his butt was cleaner than the whole store had been when he first got here) and wondered what the hell to do now. He’d wanted Edge to stay and now he didn’t know what to talk about. Every other chat they’d had was about some kind of Backwater weirdness, the peanut butter and pickle sandwich version of a conversation. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to have a white bread and butter chat.

Edge seemed to agree. He swiped a finger along one of the shelves behind the counter and checked the results, finding it to be relatively dust-free. “The store is looking much better since my brother hired you on.”

“yeah,” Stretch latched on to that topic gratefully, it was marginally better than bringing up the weather. “try to keep up on it. he’s paying me well enough for it, plus room and board, figured i can do my mr clean impression.” He gave the top of his skull a pat. “i’ve already got the bald part down.”

Edge made a rough, scoffing sound and even that was somehow delicious in that voice of his. “I suspect most of what fills up your board comes from my kitchen.”

Stretch suspected the same but leapt to his landlord’s defense, anyway, he owned Red that much and more. “hey, red is a damn fine microwave wrangler when he puts his mind to it.” Okay, so that was less of a leap than a trip and miss, but he’d tried. Maybe better to steer the topic boat out of the rapids and into calmer water. “my bro likes to cook, too.”

“Is he very good?” Edge leaned forward curiously, propping his chin up on a hand.

Woah, wait, abandon ship, that was not calmer waters, that was a storm a’brewing, a freaking typhoon. “good is relative,” Stretch said stoutly.

“Ah,” One corner of Edge’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Rest assured, I would never force you to disparage your brother’s cooking. If it’s any comfort, my recipes were somewhat unique when we first came here as well. Like the garden, it took some time for my skills to come into bloom.”

“seriously?” There was a little too much naked relief in that one word but fuck it, Blue wasn’t here to hear it, “so how many years until he’s less ‘nailed it’ and more ‘chef’s table’?”

That half-smile widened. “Time is also relative, as are brothers. How is your brother, I’m assuming he’s still back in Ebott. Have you spoken to him since you came here?”

Welp, he’d avoided the storm only to end up in shark-infested waters, wasn’t that just his luck, “sort of,” Stretch hedged.

Edge’s teeth parted in a silent ‘ah’ as he successfully decoded that message. “You texted him. Well, that’s better than leaving him completely in the dark.”

“i think he’s doing okay. he was even before i left.” He really hoped so, but then, Blue settled in easily enough from the start. From the Human’s perspective, his bro looked a little like he’d stepped out of some kind of cartoon. He was small and adorable, his starry eye lights in his huge sockets were as cute as if Disney blessed him from beyond the grave. Stretch didn’t begrudge his brother for that, ‘course he didn’t, but that didn’t make his own experiences easy cheesy. “frisk was pretty right about ebott. when it comes to monsters, it sure isn’t backwater.”

“I’m sorry.” Said with enough quiet sincerity to make Stretch shift uncomfortably.

He shrugged weakly. “eh, not your fault.”

“No, but I can still let you share your pains.” Edge reached up and took his hand. He rubbed a scarred thumb gently over his knuckles and Stretch caught his breath. “You know, I used to dream about coming to the surface. Back in my world, in the Underground. Frisk told you that it was a place of LV, not love. My brother and I spent much of our time there simply struggling to survive.” The reminiscence in Edge’s voice held no hint of fondness, but there was a certain faint wistfulness. “I had such grand dreams of what the surface world would be like back then. Hope was difficult to come by in my universe, I never truly believed a human would come and when they did, well.” Edge chuckled and there was the fondness missing from before. “Frisk was not at all what I imagined.”

“did the surface world live up to your dreams?” Stretch asked, curiously. His own dreams of the Aboveground were shaken to their foundations barely an hour into the sunlight, when the first Humans to arrive greeted them not with welcome, but with automatic rifles.

“In some ways,” Edge said. “Mostly, it’s very different from what I imagine. But like Frisk, not necessarily in a bad way.”

“ebott is sure fucking different then i imagined,” Stretch only realized how hard he was squeezing Edge’s hand when both of their joints popped. He loosened his grip, then pulled away entirely, picking up the pen from the counter to fiddle with; at least if he broke that, he’d be the only one stained. “doesn’t matter, anyway. i’m not there right now, am i.”

“Indeed not. You’re here, and Backwater is probably as different from Ebott as it is the Underground.” Edge stood in a jangling, creaking rhapsody of leather and buckles. “On that note, I do need to get going.”

Stretch stood too, hopping down from the counter. Much as he’d like Edge to stay, he did have some work to get done and who knew what Edge needed to get back to. “thank you for checking in on me.”

“Of course.” Too fast for Stretch to do more than blink, Edge leaned in and Stretch stood frozen as he pressed a chaste kiss to his cheekbone, the delicate scrape of his teeth almost ticklish against sensitive bone. He pulled back before Stretch managed to gather up all his scattered wits, and his smile was the soft, real one as he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

“soon,” Stretch parroted dumbly. He stood there like an idiot and watched Edge leave, only coming back to himself at the jangle of the bell over the door. Then he cursed himself, roundly and in every language he knew, including modified flamespeak. Smooth moves, there, Marvin Gaye, couldn’t even turn your head for a real kiss? Just stood there with crotch plug store book and didn’t even try to kick it up a notch? But he’d gotten one hell of a hug and a hand fondle, that was worth nearly getting eaten by Lady Cthulhu out there.

Well, almost.

“mind not getting your sop all over my counter?”

Stretch whirled around, barely managing not to trip over his own feet, to see Red standing in the hallway entrance. He was leaning heavily on his cane with a brutally unimpressed look on his face.

Fuck.

“i’m sorry—” Stretch began and faltered, unsure of what to say. He’d tried to listen to Red, he really had. He’d warned Stretch against starting anything with his bro from the beginning, offered plenty of warnings against rebound fucks and people getting hurt, and Stretch had tried. Except he hadn’t, had he, not really, and he could try to blame Edge’s hips and that gorgeous voice all he wanted; in the end, it was his fault, just like everything else. He hadn’t really been fighting that hard, why would he, it wasn’t like he wanted to win.

Red only sighed heavily and waved him off. “ain’t nothing to be sorry for. toldja before, i ain’t worried about my bro. you’re the one keepin’ me awake at night.”

“speaking of worrying,” Stretch took a deep breath before plunging forward, away from the sharks and heading into the shallows where the piranhas swam. “look, before anyone else decides to spill the beans, i need to tell you something.”

Red held up a hand and Stretch fell silent. “lemme get my coffee first.”

Coffee sounded better than it had any right to and, in his chest, Stretch’s soul gave an uncomfortable lurch like it could hop out and get a cup of its own. Hopefully, he asked, “can i get some?”

“yeah, sure,” Red turned back towards the apartment and tossed back over his shoulder, “whatcha want in it?”

“honey?” May as well dream big.

“yeah, darlin’?”

What? ”No!” Stretch blurted. “I mean…I didn’t…”

“yeah, yeah,” Red snickered. “i gotcha, brat.”

It was both entirely too long and much too quickly that Red made his way back with two heavy white mugs that looked as if they’d been stolen from Mama’s diner. He handed one to Stretch and settled in to lean against the counter, sipping from his own. “so, this about why you and my bro were cozying up behind the counter?”

“uh, sort of,” Stretch hedged. He stalled by taking a sip of his coffee, glorying in the thick, over-sweetened brew. “he came by because buford got a hold of him.”

Red lurched upright as if someone goosed him right on his tailbone. Hot coffee sloshed over his hand and he hissed, shaking his wet, stinging fingers as he demanded, “he did what now? what the fuck happened?”

“it’s not that bad.”

It was a weak attempt at best, not that it mattered. Red didn’t fall for it in the slightest. He didn’t move, there was no noticeable change in his breathing or posture, but the sardonic humor that seemed to cling to Red like another shirt evaporated entirely and left behind nothing but cold sincerity. “buford don’t exactly text, he don’t get ahold of anyone unless—” Red stopped and gave Stretch a coolly assessing glance that he squirmed beneath. Quietly, he said, “kid, what did you do?”

“i didn’t do it!” Stretch blurted and no amount of defending himself to his own brother or even the Ebott police could have prepared him for this. “the dog ran off, but i didn’t go into the woods! not until—there was this…this thing!” Stretch gestured wildly, trying ineffectively to convey with skinny bone hands the shadowy, awful creature that lured him into the dark last night. He couldn’t hold back a shudder of revulsion, simply thinking about it was filling him with a renewed sense of horror. “it looked like a woman and then it didn’t, she was singing, she was doing something, and i couldn’t stop myself, i couldn’t even think!”

He stopped, panting, and Red said nothing. He only stood there statue-still and Stretch would have given about anything for the door to open, the bell to jangle as someone looking for a fresh supply of ass wipers broke that awful silence.

Desperately, Stretch pressed on, letting out a nervous laugh. “anyway, i’m okay. she didn’t touch me or bite me or anything. i got out okay.” He didn’t mention the bone dragon, wasn’t even sure why, but Red was still frozen and silent over hearing about one terrifying encounter, maybe better not to mention two.

“red?” Stretch tried, hating how his voice sounded so small and forlorn. In a dismal corner of his mind, he was already mentally packing his bags. He couldn’t go back to Ebott, not now, not yet, but where else could he go, what other job could he possibly find? Maybe a waiter at Mama’s or maybe the thrift shop needed a helping hand. He didn’t know. The little money he had wouldn’t last long and definitely not in a bigger city. He didn’t really have any options, no choices at all.

He jerked back as Red suddenly jolted into movement, limping around the counter without his cane. He staggered almost drunkenly and then swung around to violently ram his fist into the first rack of the shelves. The wooden frame rocked and groaned, scattering boxes and cans to the floor on either side. A small bag of cornmeal fell and burst open, scattering dusty yellow across the floorboards.

“i…i’ll just…” Stretch couldn’t say go, he couldn’t, saying it would make this real, and he couldn’t let it be real. He took a step towards the hallway, tasting heavy tears on the back of his tongue.

Red’s voice stopped him, “kid.”

Stretch stood there and watched Red wrap both arms around himself. The fingers of one hand were streaked with marrow, he’d probably cracked his phalanges, but Red only shuddered faintly, drawing in a long breath and letting it out in a shaky rattle as he said, “if i’d’ve known she was awake, i woulda warned ya.”

Oh.

Oh, that made a terrible amount of sense and it didn’t make Stretch feel one fucking bit better to realize that Red wasn’t mad at him.

“it’s fine, red,” Stretch said, gently. It was hard to bank his own fears, but he managed, “it’s not your fault. i’m okay.”

Red heaved out a hitching little sigh and Stretch didn’t need Buford’s powers or his own magic to see that Red didn’t believe that, not even a little.

“okay,” he muttered under his breath, low and indistinct, “okay, okay.” Then louder, “okay, kid, get on out of here.”

“you’re firing me?” Stretch blurted, horrified. He’d begun to believe it was all right, more fool he, hadn’t he had the rug ripped out from under him enough times by now, when would he ever learn?

“what?” Red said, aghast. “fuck no! take a little time off, is all, after a shitty night like that, you need it. go see a movie, ‘wizard of oz’ ’s playin’, think it’ll be right up your alley.”

Relief left him weak, but he made no move towards the door. “but. your hand?”

“what about my hand?” Red raised his browbones and his hand at once and Stretch stared at the clean, pristine bones in confusion, what the fuck, he was sure he’d seen—

“okay, but,” Stretch still didn’t want to leave, some part of him vaguely convinced that if he left he wouldn’t be able to come back, like this shabby little store was some kind of fae place. “here, let me clean up.”

“i can fucking clean,” Red said impatiently. “been doing it since long before you got here.” He hooked his perfectly unbroken thumb at the door, “now, git! scoot!”

It seemed better not to comment on Red’s cleaning skills. Stretch hung up his apron and obediently scooted while Red limped over to the broom.

Outside, the temperature was just above a swelter. Stretch headed towards the theater even as the kids pulled up by the shop and dropped their bikes to head in, about five minutes too late.

Red had the right idea, he decided tiredly. A movie sounded like a good idea right about now. If, that was, he could stay awake through the opening credits.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #welcome to backwater

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