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writingonleaves · 3 months

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and all at once, you’re all i want (i’ll never let you go) - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x original female character

warnings: literally nothing. fluff! some minor worship of nina hischier (the goat), a little love letter to my alma mater

title: "king of my heart" by taylor swift

word count: 10.3k

author's note: first fic in the new year is for @wyattjohnston 's winter fic exchange 2k24!! i had the absolute pleasure of writing for @wildrangers <3 taylor, i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed putting it together and demi, thank you for your endless hard work for putting this on!!

four times where jack hughes and ashley grassie showed up for each other and one time where everyone showed up for them

*****

one - two months

“Jack, are you sure about this?” Ashley asks, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He responds confidently, sparing a look at her from the drivers seat before turning his eyes back on the road. “Everyone’s expecting you.”

“You told them?”

“That my girlfriend was coming with me to a New Year’s party? Of course.” He squeezes her thigh lightly. “They’re excited to meet you. And not while we’re working.”

“I’m excited to meet them too.”

“You sure?” He teases lightly. “You’ve been quiet all afternoon.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about.” They stop at a red light, and he leans over to kiss her cheek. “Ash, baby, they’re gonna love you.”

“But you don’t know that,” she protests softly.

“I do, actually. Because everyone loves you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You can’t promise me that everyone’s gonna even like me.”

He shrugs. “I’ll prove you wrong. You’ll see.” He tugs at her gold sweater. “Is this new?”

“Yeah. Seems fitting for the occasion. Sparkles equals New Years, right?”

“I like it a lot.”

“I know what you’re doing,” she deadpans.

He smirks. “And what might that be?”

“Distracting me.”

“Maybe so. You’re so smart, Miss Columbia Grad.”

“Jack,” she whines, making him laugh.

He picks up her hand and kisses the back of it. “Trust me, okay? It’ll be great. And I’ll be with you all night.”

Ashley swallows, before forcing herself to nod.

The thing is, after two months of dating officially (she’s not counting the month beforehand when there wasn’t a label on things even though there should’ve been), there are still important parts of each other’s lives they have yet to experience together. She’s gone to a few of his games, but has never met any of his teammates (except for Luke, but he doesn’t count), choosing to meet Jack back at his place after instead of waiting for him at the rink. She also doesn’t count that one Devils game she had to fill in for, which is how she met Jack in the first place. The few times he’s invited her along when he does go out with them, she’s been busy with other things.

New Year’s is kinda a big time to be meeting new people. People that mean a lot to Jack. But that could just also be all in Ashley’s head. She’s never really done this before. The last serious boyfriend she had was in high school where everyone knew each other. There was no need for introductions.

Jack squeezes her hand. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Coming with me to this. Taking off work early. I appreciate it a lot.”

She shrugs casually. “It’s about time, right?” She pointedly ignores the look he shoots her, because she doesn’t want him to know how nervous she really is.

Before they know it, Jack’s pulled into the driveway of the Toffolis and her hands start sweating again. She gathers the flowers on her lap and the wine bag as Jack rounds the car and opens the door for her. He grabs the bag, presses a kiss atop her head and hand in hand, they walk to the front door. She lets Jack take the lead as he just walks in. They walk into the kitchen area, as Cat pulls her into a hug and thanks them graciously for the flowers and wine.

It turns out that Ashley really does have nothing to worry about. Getting thrown into a whirlwind of introductions and new names is a lot, but she doesn’t mind. A wave of comfort crashes over her as Luke practically hauls her into a hug.

She finds herself besides Nico after he hands her a glass of wine. “You’re a journalist, right?” He asks.

“I am.”

“Do you ever watch Jack’s media interviews?”

Ashley giggles. “I do once in awhile. Trust me, I have my thoughts. I also met him for the first time from that. And you, technically.”

“Right, right. Will we ever see you in the locker room again?”

“Probably not. I was just filling in for Danny. On the rare chance I do sports, it’s usually for the Jets. Besides, better to watch and support you all without any stake professionally.”

“What do you usually report on?” Nico asks with genuine curiosity.

She perks up, like anytime she gets to talk about her job. As she talks, using her hands animatedly despite one of them holding a drink, Jack looks on from a distance with a lovesick look in his eyes.

“She is way too cool for you,” Dawson says, fixing his cap.

Jack rolls his eyes. “Shut up.” But Jack knows his teammate’s right.

Jack’s not clingy, perse, but it’s hard for him to watch Ashley just…be and not be touching a part of her. Even if it’s just sliding up against her so her body is pressed alongside his, he just wants to be near her all the time.

(Quinn once sent some random thing he found on Instagram about love languages a few years back and Jack had remembered absolutely roasting him. But maybe he had a point)

“So,” Nicole starts, refilling both their glasses up with champagne a bit later in the evening. “Why Jack?”

Ashley snorts. “Your guess is as good as mine.” From beside his girlfriend, Jesper barks out a laugh and from next to Ashley, Jack pouts. Ashley laughs, leaning into Jack’s side. “I’m kidding. Mostly. I was hesitant at first though.”

“Oh, yeah. He told me about this,” Jesper says. “Said he chased you down the hall after post-game media and asked you out?”

“Sounds about right.”

“And you said yes to that?” Jesper asks. Jack whacks his teammate in the stomach.

“Not right away,” Ashley admits. “He gave me his number and told me to text him if I was interested. And I ended up being interested.”

“Lucky for him,” Nicole chuckles.

Jack squeezes Ashley’s waist fondly. “Lucky for me.”

She listens on in interest as Nicole talks about how she and Jesper got together. Somewhere throughout the conversation, she can’t help but let her mind drift. They’ve been together for years now, been living together for a bit and are looking to move into a house. She literally moved away from Sweden full-time for him.

Ashley swallows as Jack asks about how their house search is going. There’s a very little chance that Jack will be leaving Jersey anytime within the next half decade. But her mother warned her that his career could take him places in the future unexpectedly.

And in a way, so could Ashley’s. But it’s not as easy.

She scolds herself for even thinking this far. They’ve been dating for literally two months. That’s nothing in the grand scheme of things. They’re celebrating entering the new year today, but she has no idea if they’ll even be together for all of it.

She’s hoping they are. God, she really fucking hopes so. But she could hope until the end of the world and have it fall short. She smoothes her sweater out with her suddenly-clammy hands, chugging the whole glass of champagne before putting the flute down on a nearby table. She excuses herself politely to use the bathroom, which she does, before getting some air.

She definitely looks a bit crazy outside on the Toffoli’s porch in the dead of winter, but she doesn’t mind the biting edge of cold. It’s grounding her, actually.

“Was looking for you.”

Ashley doesn’t even look at Jack, humming as she hears him walking out to stand next to her. “Did my sparkle sweater give me away?”

“No, Neeks did, actually. Said he saw you walking out.” She finally looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not cold?”

“Don’t even think about offering me your jacket,” she warns. “I know you’re only wearing a t-shirt underneath.”

“Then come back inside so we both don’t die.”

“In a minute,” she promises.

He huffs, rubbing his hands up and down her arms to try and generate some heat. “Everything good?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Just, you know, minorly freaking out at her boyfriend’s teammate’s place about the fact that she might be falling in love with him even though it hasn’t been that long and what a future could look like for them and how that future could fall apart in an instant.

So regular New Year’s Eve thoughts.

“Unlike you, I don’t have a college degree, much less two,” Jack grins. “I can’t read minds.”

“And you think I can?” She jokes back weakly. He just chuckles. She continues. “Your friends are nice. I like them a lot.”

He lights up anytime someone he loves gets brought up in conversation. “Yeah, they’re cool. They like you too.”

“That’s good,” she says softly.

He taps her forehead with his pointer finger. “Countdown’s soon. Come back inside?” He laces their fingers together.

“You gonna kiss me at midnight?”

“Think so.”

“You only think so?”

Jack smirks, kissing her deeply. “Shut up.”

Ashley is absolutely floored.

two - one year and one month

Cam’s wedding crept up on her.

Of course, Ashley knew it was coming, but still. Though she was surprised when Jack told her that he was free of games on that particular early November weekend somehow, only having to miss an optional practice and that he would notify the coaching staff far in advance.

It’s not the act of bringing Jack that she’s nervous about. Cam and Amanda, his fiance, came into the city a few months ago and they all grabbed lunch before heading to a game at The Rock that night. She’ll never forget how ultimately “traitor-like to the Bruins” Cam felt, Ashley and Amanda finding it hilarious. They both had a good time though, and that’s all that matters, and Cam, who has always looked out for her even before she had ever asked, subtly gave his approval.

(“I’ll admit my assumptions about him were wrong,” Cam had said. “He’s awesome, and he really cares about you. If he’s the one, I won’t be mad about it. He’s very lucky.”)

It’s more of a particular person that’s going to be at the wedding.

Weirdly, when she and Alex broke up way back when, one of the thoughts that circled her mind months after was exactly this. If and when the day of Cam’s wedding came, and they were both still close to him, they’d both be there. And here they are.

She’s over him — obviously, considering she’s in a happy, long-term relationship and it’s been four years — but how do you prepare to see your ex-boyfriend when the last time you saw him you had just broken up and you were in tears?

She and Jack drive up to Cape Cod early the day of the wedding and she feels a bit bad that he’s driving after he had a game last night and has one in just two days but he doesn’t mind, happy to be driving as long as she’s in the passenger seat next to him. They’re switching off anyways, and she had driven the first half. Cam and Amanda rented out a bunch of rooms at a few inns for their guests so her and Jack will get ready there before heading to the venue.

From a quick rundown Cam gave her a month ago when they caught up over the phone, she’ll at least be familiar with a good amount of people at the wedding. She’s excited to see them all again and catch up, those memories that were bittersweet at some point, all water under the bridge so many years later.

It’s what you get for dating within a friend group. Ultimately, at some point, sides are chosen.

At the end of the day, it’s Cam, someone who has always been there for her since they were 16, even when she didn’t necessarily do the same. He’s given his friendship selflessly to her for over a decade. The least she can do is come to his wedding to celebrate.

And she has Jack with her. Nothing can go wrong with Jack by her side.

“You okay?” Jack’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts as he squeezes her thigh, sneaking a look before focusing back on the road. “You’re quiet. You’re rarely quiet in the car.”

“It’s a 5 hour drive, Jack.”

“I’ve been playing country nonstop for the last half an hour and you haven’t chirped me once.” She starts playing with his fingers and his eyebrows furrow. “Alright. What’s going on, baby? What are you thinking about?”

“You know what I’m thinking about.” She shoots back with no malice.

He sighs, linking their hands together and bringing them up to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Yeah. I got you though. I’ll be with you the whole day.”

“It’s dumb, really. Four years. And I haven’t thought about him in a long time.”

He shrugs. “He was your first heartbreak, and you haven’t seen him since. This is gonna be some sort of closure, even if it’s four years later.”

“You seem awfully cool about this, considering, you know, your current girlfriend is lowkey freaking out about seeing her ex again.”

“I’m not worried,” he replies easily. “You need this closure. I wasn’t smart like you back then and actually saw my exes probably way sooner than I should’ve. Besides, I’m the one on your arm now. Not him. I’m not pressed.”

She scoffs at yet another country song playing and skips it, snorting when ‘Suburban Legends’ by Taylor Swift comes on. How fitting. “I’m definitely hyping it up in my head. It’s nothing. And Cam told me that he purposefully put us at separate tables, in case Alex says some questionable shit while drunk.”

“No worries about you saying anything questionable?”

“Compared to Alex? No way.” He snorts, amused. But he knows enough about his girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend to not push it. “I wonder if he’s bringing someone. God, I hope he is.”

“Why? Don’t want to rub it in his face that you’re happy and in love?”

“That’s mean,” she says airily. “No. I hope he’s bringing someone because I want to know what kind of girl can tolerate his ass. I did, but I was 20 and stupid. I wanna see what kind of girl can tolerate him at 26.”

“Does he know I’m coming?”

“Cam?”

He snorts. “No. Alex.”

“Who knows? Even if he does, he probably doesn’t care and isn’t overthinking it like I am.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” she looks at him, confused and he bites his lip. “Even if they play it off, guys are affected by that stuff more than you’d think.”

“What is there to be affected by?”

“You,” Jack says simply. “Not that I’m biased or anything, but you leave quite an impact on everyone you meet. And that lucky ass got to date you. As someone who also has had that privilege, I can relate a bit.”

Ashley chuckles before squeezing his hand. “Thanks for coming with me. I know your schedule is really busy with the season and everything-”

“You don’t need to thank me. Isn’t half of having a significant other just bringing them as plus ones to weddings?”

“Fair.” She leans her head on his shoulder momentarily as he pushes the sunglasses on top of his head to his face. “Thank you, though. I feel bad that you’re missing practice.”

He snorts. “Don’t.”

“They didn’t give you a hard time?”

“Not really. It’s an optional, anyways. Nico just told us to have fun and I think Lindy has a soft spot for you somehow. I’m excited. I like Cam. And I’m happy to be here with you.” He smirks, adding. “Come on, baby. Did you think I was gonna leave you to dry when your ex is gonna be there?”

“You don’t know anybody at the wedding. And Cam grew up in a hockey-loving family from Boston. There’s bound to be people who recognize you.”

“So I’m the arm candy for the night. That works perfectly for me.”

They arrive at the inn just past 1, and decide to stop by a nearby cafe to grab a quick bite. Jack decides to take a short nap before they have to start getting ready and head out while she scrolls on her phone and plays with his hair since his head is on her lap. Occasionally she finds herself staring outside the window at the water with a smile. Even if not in the summer, the Cape is beautiful.

Once it hits 4:15, she figures that she should start getting ready, but she can’t move without disturbing Jack since he’s still sleeping soundly on her lap. She gently whispers his name and presses a few kisses on his forehead as his breathing changes, groaning a bit as he stretches and opens his eyes.

“Time to go?”

“In like, an hour. I need to start getting ready.”

He hums, puckering his lips and she takes the hint, kissing him soundly twice before ushering him off her lap. She lays out the few makeup products she has, moisturizing her face before putting light foundation and concealer on. As always, she focuses more attention on her eyeshadow, deciding to add a bit of gold glitter to compliment her pink dress. She clips a matching pink bow in, liking the way it blends with the natural brown of her hair. She decides to save the lipstick for right before they leave and turns to Jack, who’s buttoning his shirt.

“What do you think?” He looks up as he’s buttoning his cuffs. “Too much glitter?” She asks.

“Never too much glitter. You look beautiful.”

She looks at his blazer and tie that he’s laid out on the bed, looking at him with minor confusion. “Since when do you own that tie?”

“Since last week when I bought it.”

She looks at where her dress is hanging. “It matches my dress.”

“Yes it does.”

She looks towards him as he tucks his shirt in, a sudden wave of love rushing through her heart. “I love you.”

He looks up and immediately walks over to her, placing a hand on her waist and kissing her. “I love you too.”

She puts on her dress quickly, smiling when she doesn’t even have to ask Jack as he comes over to help her zip it up, pressing a chaste kiss on her shoulder. His phone ringing interrupts and she brushes her hair before she puts on her accessories.

“Sup Quinny?”

Quinn’s voice crackles through Jack’s phone. “Where the fuck are you going all dressed up on a Saturday? I know for a fact you don’t have a game today, considering Luke just sent a snap of him playing Chel with Dawson 10 minutes ago.”

“I’m in the Cape, asshole. One of Ash’s friends is getting married.”

She peeks into the view of the camera and waves after putting in one earring. “Hi Quinn!”

“Oh! Hey Ash. You look beautiful.”

She beams. “Thank you!”

Jack scoffs. “I’m here too.”

Ashley leaves the brothers to catch up as she starts gathering her things and puts on her lip tint before sitting at the edge of the bed since they still have 15 minutes left before they have to head out and she’s mostly all ready to go. She chimes in once in awhile, always happy to talk to Quinn as Jack shrugs on his suit jacket, ties his matching pink tie and clasps on his watch.

“Looking good, you two.” Quinn says as they both stand in front of the phone. “Matching tie, eh? Good move, Jacky.”

“We look good enough to make an ex jealous?”

She just rolls her eyes as Quinn’s eyes lights up, immediately catching on. “Absolutely.”

“Don’t encourage him, Quinn.”

Quinn just laughs and bids them farewell as Jack smooths down his tie. She puts on her jacket and grabs her boots and slips them on. As she’s about to bend down and tie them, Jack ushers her to sit on the bed and kneels down. He does it too quickly for her to dwell too much on how much she loves him, but he probably knows, if him gently rubbing his thumb over her ankle and the kiss on the inside of her knee tell her anything.

It’s only been a little over a year, but she really does think she could spend the rest of her life with him.

They end up running into Nick in the lobby and even though it’s been…four years since she’s seen him, she corrals him into a tight hug. She introduces Jack and Nick introduces Melanie, his fiancee. The only indication from Nick that he knows who Jack is is a subtle comment that’s delivered in a way that’s so Nick it makes her heart ache — “Jack Hughes. Only Ash would show up after almost five years in the flesh with a professional athlete at a wedding where her ex is gonna be at. Always gotta do some out of pocket shit.” — and makes Jack laugh as she slaps him.

The four of them walk the short seven minute walk to the venue together, with Ashley and Nick mostly leading the conversation. She can’t remember where they left their tentative friendship in their late teens and early twenties when the world was shut down and the future looked the most uncertain it had been. Even though they don’t immediately pick up where they left off, years of rust littered in their interactions and memories, she’s extremely happy to see that he’s doing well.

(Jack’s just happy to be there, holding his girlfriend’s hand as she leads the conversation. It’s nice not having to lead for once. There’s not many situations where he’s the one tagging along)

As they enter the ceremony space, Ashley immediately sees plenty of other people she recognizes. She chuckles to herself as she realizes many of the guys are from the soccer team. It’s touching to know they still keep in touch. Logan, one of said guys, greets Nick goodheartedly, before wrangling her into a hug. As pleasantries are exchanged and people are introduced, she does feel a bit out of place. But that’s natural, reconnecting with people after so long that clearly still hang out with each other and only hear about her through sporadic updates through Cam when they ask.

Sides were chosen, even if not intentionally. Ashley’s learned to be okay with that. Even if she thinks it’s unfair that Alex got to keep a lot of their mutual friends and she didn’t.

As everyone settles down in their seats, she squeezes Jack’s hand, opening her mouth to apologize for…something. Not preparing him in giving the whole lore of how she knows all these people? How the only reason she knows the sport of soccer is so well is because of Alex? Not explaining clearly the mixed feelings of her coming to the Cape this weekend?

But Jack’s enraptured in a conversation with Logan, and she smiles. Of course. Logan played hockey back in high school as well.

(Out of instinct, Jack does squeeze her hand back though, even placing them in his lap even though he’s not looking in her direction at all)

When Alex comes into view, a pretty redhead’s hand around the crook of his elbow, Ashley starts sweating. Thank goodness she has deodorant in her bag. Jack, who’s still talking to Logan, notices, and she’s about to apologize for her clammy hands as he sends her a confused look but the nearby exclamations of Alex’s name answers his question. He just presses two kisses to her temple.

Logan, to his credit, grimaces. “You gonna be good, Ash?”

She waves his kindness away. “Of course. It’s been so long. And it’s Cam’s day.”

And it is Cam’s day, as everyone falls silent watching both sets of parents and the groomsmen and bridesmaids walk down — she chuckles when she sees Sean walking down, forgetting that he and Cam got closer in college even after going to the same high school — before grinning as Amanda walks down in her beautiful A-line, ball gown of a wedding dress. Ashley wipes a tear away watching Cam do the same and she thinks if only 16 year old them could see themselves now.

(She has a moment when she looks at Jack where her stomach flips, thinking of the day they could be the ones at the altar. She quickly focuses her attention back to the front)

Cam and Amanda are pronounced husband and wife and she cheers as he dips her and kisses her, beaming and tearing up and laughing as she hears Nick wolf-whistle. People start dispersing, the large heated patio hosting a cocktail hour before the doors to the reception hall open back up again.

While she’s sipping on a glass of wine, she hears a familiar voice calling her name and she beams, carefully making sure she doesn’t spill any wine on Sean’s tuxedo as he towers over her and hugs her tightly. He introduces himself to Jack and she watches in slight amusement as they talk.

Sean and her never really were friends, more friends by association. He was more in the popular crowd in the school that Ashley herself was never inclined to push her way through. Her and Sean shared plenty of classes together though, and always got along when forced to work together. And in another life, sometimes Ashley thinks that she would’ve had a crush on the blonde boy.

Instead, she dated one of his teammates. And, well, that turned out the way it did.

(Ashley rolls her eyes when Sean makes a comment about how it “makes complete sense that you’re the one who ended up dating a professional athlete” because sure, Sean. Sure.)

Jack may be among many Massachusetts natives who live and die for the Bruins and are not hesitant in chirping him within 5 minutes of meeting him, but he smiles genuinely as his hand instinctively finds a way on her lower back. After dating Ashley for over a year, he’s used to the good-intentioned bluntness of New Englanders. She only starts rolling her eyes when high school gets brought up and stories about her start piling up. In contrast, Jack loves this and just eggs them on, eager to hear the stories.

With a quick glance at the seating chart when they’re all starting to filter back into the reception hall, she finds that the high school crowd is split between two tables, and that Cam kept to his word and put her and Alex at different ones. The tables next to each other, but still. She won’t have to worry about making accidental awkward eye contact with him across her chicken. She’s the slightest bit surprised she hasn’t crossed direct paths with him yet. But there’s enough people that they wouldn’t ever be forced to interact. And maybe that’s for the best.

Dinner passes by without incident, Ashley squeezing both Cam and Amanda tight as they come around to toast every table as Jack gives Cam a tight bro-hug and Amanda a polite kiss on the cheek. The dance floor starts to open up, and as usual, Ashley’s one of the first ones on, dragging Jack and practically their whole table out. She feels light on her feet and happy as she leans into Jack with a big smile. He ditches his suit jacket at the table and his pink tie is loosened and she thinks he looks so handsome. She’s happily tipsy enough where the curious glances and whispers from probably the entire fucking reception hall about why an NHL player is here don’t bother her. She knows he’s used to it. She doesn’t know how.

(Jack may not know everything of the lore and context behind Ashley’s relationship with the people she knows here, but he knows her and how deeply she feels and nostalgic she can get and how that can change her perception of her own memories and how that in turn, can make her extremely self critical.

So this whole evening, he’s tried to make it as easy as possible, talking with her old friends and classmates — which isn’t much of an ask, they’re nice enough — and just squeezing her hand or waist or kissing her temple or cheek when he feels her focus trailing off. If she talks to Alex and wants him there, he’ll be right next to her. If not, he’ll make himself scarce. Whatever she wants)

Ashley’s resting at her chair while Jack’s in a casual conversation with Cam as Alex comes up behind Cam, tapping him on the shoulder. She swallows and sits up straight and Jack automatically places a gentle hand on her back. Cam and Alex exchange a few words she can’t hear before Cam turns his attention back to her and Jack feels a surge of gratitude towards Cam, who looks extremely apologetic.

Jack watches as she stands up and steps towards Alex with a small smile. “Hey.”

Alex blinks. “Hi.” She gives him a quick hug before stepping back next to Jack as he stands up. “Alex, this is Jack, my boyfriend. Jack, Alex.”

“Nice to meet you, man.” Jack says with a firm, polite handshake and he doesn’t really see (or care about) Alex’s reaction before turning back to Ashley again, trying to read her. She gives him an almost imperceptible nod. Jack’s eyes flicker to Cam, who also nods behind Alex and he clears his throat. “I’m gonna get a refill. You two want anything?”

“All good, man.”

“Rum and coke, heavier on the coke?”

“You got it,” Jack presses a quick kiss to her hair before he and Cam walk to the bar.

Jack waves to the bartender for a whiskey sour for himself as Cam gets a gin and tonic. They both lean against the counter and Jack sighs, watching Alex take Jack’s previous seat. “Was that a good idea? Leaving them alone?” Because he knows her, of course, but Cam’s known her longer. And he had a front row seat to her and Alex’s friendship before they got together, their relationship when they got together, and the fallout of their breakup.

“Honestly? I don’t know. But they’re both 26 year old mature adults.” Cam’s eyes flit over to a redhead woman a couple seats away from the bar and waves her over. Jack’s trying to remember if he’s met her tonight

“Hi Cam,” she says lightly.

“Hey yourself,” he nods over in the direction of her and Alex. “You initiate that?”

She snorts, “Of course I did.” She perches herself on a stool and sticks her hand out to Jack. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Francesca, but please call me Fran. I’m Alex’s girlfriend.”

Jack gives her a small smile. This is something. “Jack. Ashley’s boyfriend.”

“I’m aware,” she teases. “I grew up in Jersey and my brother’s a huge hockey fan. I’ve been to a couple of your games throughout the years.”

“Always nice to meet a fan,” He responds smoothly and genuinely. “Especially in a room filled with Bruins fans that could honestly poison my drink at any moment and I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky there are no Rangers fans here.” Cam waves him off as Jack and Fran laugh.

“What a way to meet someone for the first time,” Fran says.

“While our exes are talking for the first time in over four years?” Jack says and Fran and Cam both snort. “You could say that.”

She turns to Cam, “Cam, you can go off and mingle, you know? It’s your wedding. Jack and I will be fine here.”

Jack opens his mouth to agree but Cam just shakes his head. “It’s fine. I need a second to breathe anyways. And also make sure this doesn’t go downhill.”

“Ashley seems like a smart girl and Alex isn’t that stupid,” Fran says. “They wouldn’t make a fuss at your wedding.”

Cam sighs and Jack thinks about how thankful he is that Cam has been there for his girlfriend way before Jack even knew her. Jack then turns to Fran and asks how she and Alex met and the conversation starts there, all three of them turning to the two exes from time to time to make sure there’s no flames or glasses being thrown.

Fran talks about how she and Alex met at work and laughs in amusement when Jack explains that it was the same with him and Ashley, talking about how Ashley had been filling in for a colleague for an interview and Jack practically fell in love with her the second he saw her and had to tell himself to not sound stupid in front of the pretty girl.

And honestly, as Jack talks to Fran, he laughs to himself a bit ironically. She reminds him a bit of Ashley. A bit too much for him personally and harsh in a different way than his girlfriend, but decent company nonetheless. So maybe he and Alex are more alike than they think.

Meanwhile, the conversation happening merely 20 feet away between two exes is not as casual. Not as comfortable.

“Been a long time, huh?” Alex remarks.

Ashley tries not to scoff. “Four years.”

Alex curses under his breath. “Yeah. How are you?”

What a loaded question. She goes along with it. “I’m good.”

“Cam mentioned you’re in New York?”

“I am. Moved out there about a year after college for work. Then went to grad school there.”

“Journalist?”

She shrugs. “More or less. The title’s changed a couple times throughout the years but all in that field.”

“That’s awesome.” He runs a hand through his hair and it looks so familiar yet unfamiliar. “I still remember when you told me you got into BU. Seems like the path was always laid out for you, huh?”

She’ll have to unpack that one later. “Guess so. How about you? I heard you were in Portland. Real estate, right?”

He nods, “Yeah.”

“That’s great. I’m really glad you’re doing well.”

“Thanks.” A moment of silence there. “For what it’s worth, it is really good to see you again.”

Ashley lets out a genuine smile. Small, but genuine. “Same.”

The sound of his laughter kinda aches a bit, but not in a way that has her sad. Just nostalgic. There is some easy banter, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Ashley’s remembering a bit of why she loved him in the first place.

There’s a pause in the conversation, before she continues, “I haven’t gotten a chance to meet whoever you’re here with yet, but-”

“Fran.”

“Fran, right.” she says. “But I’ve heard a bit. How long have you two been together?”

“Are we really going to do this?”

She swallows the urge to fire back, shrugging instead. “Why not? And don’t pretend like you’re not curious about Jack either. I figured I might as well just go first.”

Alex laughs. “Around three years for Fran and I.”

“You love her?”

“I do. A lot.”

She smiles. Genuinely this time. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

“How about you and Mr. NHL Superstar?”

Again, she swallows down her instinct to fire back. “A little over a year now.”

“You happy?”

“Very.”

Alex nods once and doesn’t quite smile but has a pleasant expression on his face. “Cam said that he likes him. Which is a lot, considering I’m pretty sure he used to think that he was a cocky asshole.”

Ashley knows it’s not meant in that way because she knows that her boyfriend has somewhat of a reputation, but she gets defensive. “People aren’t always what they seem. Even if he’s a pest on the ice sometimes, he’s a wonderful guy.” You should know, she wants to say. You were the exact same way in high school.

They’re trickling into dangerous territory. She wonders if he’ll take the bait. If he does, she wonders if she’ll be strong enough not to fall for it. She wonders if he’ll apologize, not because she needs it, but because she knows she deserved one all those years ago.

Alex leans back casually, putting his arm over the empty chair next to him. “From me to Jack fucking Hughes. I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended.”

Ashley doesn’t know at all how she’s supposed to take that. Like everything he’s always done, he says it casually, taking a drink of water as she’s figuring out how to respond. She doesn’t. For the first time, she feels like she doesn’t have control of this conversation.

He notices she has no response and keeps going. “Hey, he’s a decent player and the money can’t hurt. I’m glad you’re happy.”

She swallows. A gold digger? Is that really what he’s hinting at?

Ashley almost sighs in relief when she catches sight of Jack, Cam and a woman who she presumes is Fran walking back towards them. Immediately she plasters on a smile and introduces herself to Fran, because it’s not her fault that her boyfriend still has the ability to get under her skin even so many years after their break-up. Jack presses a rum and coke in her hand silently and she thanks him quietly before making small talk with Fran. Just having Jack next to her has her blood pressure lowering. Soon enough, they all but shove Cam back into his own wedding and bid farewell as Fran excuses her and Alex and heads over to chat with someone she doesn’t recognize.

Jack leads her outside of the main reception hall into one of the hallways, where there are people sporadically chatting and also getting away from the music for a second.

Jack grabs her drink and faces her with a concerned look. “Ash? You okay? It seemed to get a little…tense at times.”

Ashley shrugs and chuckles. It’s bitter though, and he knows it, immediately placing a grounding hand on her waist. “I was how I always am to everyone.”

“Sure,” he responds skeptically.

She sighs. “It was fine. I’m fine. It didn’t go badly. I don’t know if it was good. It just…was.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “It was fine. It’s not a big deal. It’s been four fucking years and it’s not like I love him anymore. I shouldn’t-”

“Hey. Stop. None of that,” Jack says softly but firmly, leaning in closer and kissing her forehead as she bites her bottom lip harshly. He holds her hand gently and presses it against his chest. “Open your eyes, baby. Take some breaths with me.”

She obeys, looking into blue eyes that have become another home for her and taking deep breaths. “Thanks.”

“Always. Wanna talk about it?”

She debates in her mind. “No. It’s a wedding. Let’s go back and have fun and dance.”

“You sure?”

She nods, before placing a peck on his lips. “I’ll probably be more in my feelings tomorrow about it. Or the next week. But for now, come dance with me.”

“Lead the way.”

Ashley doesn’t even look at Alex’s direction for the rest of the night, instead looking at Jack when she feels like the floor beneath her is gonna get pulled away. The stupidly romantic thing is, she knows he’ll catch her everytime.

three - one year and nine months

“What do you think?”

Jack looks up from where he’s sitting on her bed and his eyes pop open, jaw dropping with it. He tosses his phone to the side. “Ash. Holy shit.”

Ashley twirls around in the yellow ruffle dress. “I like this one the most, but I don’t think it’s fancy enough.”

She looks up to see him biting his lip, eyes scanning her body. She blushes as he beckons her to stand inbetween his legs. “Don’t care. You have to wear this one, please. It fits you perfectly.”

She smoothes down the ruffles. “Are you sure it’s fancy enough?”

“Honey, most of the guys probably won’t even be wearing ties,” she settles her hands in his hair. “Wear this one. I know you love it and you look beautiful in it.”

She lets out a breath. “Okay, yeah. I can pair it with those flower earrings and matching bracelet and I think Scarlett has white heels I could borrow and-”

“Woah there,” he chuckles, rubbing his thumbs on the fabric at her hips. “Did you have too much coffee today? You’re talking a million miles a minute.”

“No,” she drawls out. “I’m just…nervous? This is the first thing we’re going to that’s so…”

“Public?” He finishes for her. She nods. He pushes her gently so that she’s sitting next to him. “I get that. I’m a bit nervous too. But I’ll be there the whole time. And you’ll have my parents and Quinn. And Nico will be there too. Besides, you’re great with people. I’ve seen you in action.”

She shrugs modestly. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what is it you’re worried about?”

She swallows at his tone, because she doesn’t think he gets it. Why would he? He’s not the one that’s going to be scrutinized by his fans. At least not to the degree she would be. “Everyone else’s thoughts.”

Jack nods slowly in realization. He leans in to kiss her lips twice. She has to admit it makes her feel a bit better. His kisses usually do. “You know no one else’s opinions mean anything. Besides, it’s very clear to anyone that I’m happily taken.”

And he has a point. She’s made an appearance on his Instagram with two photos in his annual summer dump — one was just of her in the city and the other was of the two of them by the lake in Michigan — and he hadn’t tagged her, but it was clearly a message to the world that he wasn’t a single man. Social media doesn’t matter and it never will, but it had been a decision they both had come to, Jack approaching her gently and asking if he could post them.

But having it through a screen and having it in real life is different.

“I know it’s stupid,” she says. “But you know me. I don’t particularly enjoy being out of my element.”

“I know, I know,” he bumps her knee with his. “It’ll be fun though. We’ll get drunk the night before and maybe I’ll be hungover the next morning and you get to tell Luke if I do anything embarrassing.”

Ashley laughs. “That does sound fun.”

“Exactly.” He cups her face in his hands. “I gotcha, baby. Always.”

She trusts in that when she lands in Boston a few days later. She trusts in that as she gets swept in a world she’s not quite comfortable in, but finds there are a lot more similarities than differences compared to environments she’s been in. She’s a journalist after all. It’s her job in a way to blend into different lives in order to get the best and most impactful stories. She trusts in that as she’s rolling her eyes fondly at Jack, who’s chatting with practically everyone at the bar. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen this many hockey players in one room. She trusts in that as Jack then always drags whoever he’s talking to so that he can introduce her.

For someone who has always valued their privacy, Jack is making it pretty obvious that the “stunning girl in the floral shirt” is his. Ashley can’t say she hates it, even if it’s a little bold for her particular taste.

“He looks happy, doesn’t he?” Ellen asks as they both watch Jack across the room with Auston Matthews. Ashley’s cousins in Toronto would be freaking out right now.

Ashley snickers. “Drunk or happy?”

“Both?” Ellen raises her glass up to knock it against Ashley’s in a toast.

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Thank you for coming. I know it means a lot to Jack that you’re here.”

“Thank you all for having me,” Ashley responds, suddenly a bit shy. “It’s, been, uh, a bit overwhelming, to be honest.”

“I can imagine,” Ellen smiles sympathetically. “All this hockey stuff, business wise, is more Jimmy’s scene than mine.”

“Really?” Ashley thinks to all that Jack’s told her about his mother and all the warmth Ellen has emitted since they’ve met, not to mention how everyone they’ve talked to — player, coach, agent — has gravitated towards Ellen.

To her credit, Ellen chuckles. “That’s fair. Jack tells me that you know how to work a room, which is something that Jimmy’s always said about me.”

Ashley traces the rim of her glass. “I think Jack gives me too much credit.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Ellen says with a knowing smile. “I read your article the other day. The one about the family who’s had to travel across the country to get care for their child. Quinn sent it to me, actually.” Quinn read it? She doesn’t remember sending it to him. Did Jack send it to him? “It’s an incredible piece of work. How long did that take you?”

“From start to finish? Around two months.”

Ellen grins, placing a motherly hand on her shoulder. “You’re so talented, honey. I try to keep up with everything you write, but you do so much that sometimes I lose track.”

"You really don’t have to do that. But thank you, Ellen. T-that means a lot to me.”

“What does Mom not have to do?” Jack asks, squeezing himself next to his girlfriend.

“Read my articles.”

Jack grins. “Why not? They’re so good. Our family group chat is filled with them. Dad always loves your profiles.”

Ashley swallows. She’s pretty confident that the Hughes family likes her, but the fact that they all keep track of her published articles is a bit too much for her to handle right now. She downs the rest of her beer and waves Jack away when he opens his mouth to ask if she wants his. Instead, he asks the bartender for a ginger ale. Ashley’s grateful.

The next day, Ashley smiles as Jack’s walking the carpet. He’s up for the Hart trophy this year and as he squats down to greet a little boy and sign his jersey, Ashley can’t help but let her love and pride for him soar. She’s as out of the way as she can be, trying not to get overwhelmed with all the voices and flashes around her. It helps that Ellen and Jim seem to always be nearby and she makes fast friends with Nina and Luca, who are watching Nico do similar things.

She gets pulled out of her own world with a familiar hand on her waist. “Hey,” Jack murmurs into her ear.

“Hi.”

“Do you wanna jump into a few pictures with me?” Jack asks softly. “It’ll only take a few minutes. No pressure if not.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He beams, offering an arm as he leads them over to where the photographers are. She tries not to blink too much as the flashes hurt her eyes and hopes she and Jack are looking in the same direction.

“You look beautiful,” he pairs his sincere compliment with a squeeze of her waist.

She smiles at the cameras for a few seconds before turning to him slightly. “You already said that.”

“I know. It’s worth repeating.”

Thankfully, it’s only about 30 seconds before everyone else — Quinn, Jack’s parents and Nico’s family — are being ushered in for a group photo. She finds herself inbetween Jack and Nico and giggles as Nico tries to blow his hair out of his face. She takes pity on him after a few tries and she reaches up to fix it for him quickly, Nina laughing on the other side of her brother.

“Stop messing with it,” Ashley scolds lightly through clenched teeth, smiling for the pictures. “You’re gonna make it worse.” She giggles when Nico pokes her side a few seconds later.

When Jack wins the Hart, Ashley leaps out of her seat in excitement. To her, he’s always going to be the best player she knows because she sees firsthand how hard he works, but it’s nice that his peers are recognizing it too. He places a quick kiss on her lips before going up on stage and Ashley’s clapping and laughing to herself. He was dreading having to make any sort of speech.

After the ceremony, she just follows everyone to whatever swanky rooftop seemingly the entire NHL is gathering at. She finds herself flocking towards Nina for a lot of the evening as they both exchange fun stories and memories of their own lives over drinks. Ashley thinks she could keep talking to Nina for the rest of her life. She’s just so damn cool.

The next day, she drags Jack around the BU campus and is happy pointing out buildings that she had classes in, cried in, cheered in and lived her life in. They walk from one end of Com Ave to the other, Ashley dutifully pointing out Agganis Arena (“I’m sure Trevor has some good memories in this building”), their starting point.

She stands in front of the College of Communication building and stops. Jack dutifully stops next to her. “This building kinda looks like shit.”

Ashley snorts. “Yeah, I know. Especially compared to all the science buildings.” She bites her lip. “It all started here.”

“What did?”

“The dream.”

And yeah, maybe that’s a bit dramatic. But Jack said similar things when he brought her to Toronto earlier this year, so she knows he understands.

Almost two years together now, she’s convinced that no one will really ever understand her like Jack does.

He nudges her hip with his, the breeze blowing comfortably through her hair and rustling the plants around them. They watch as a student walks through the front doors. “Wanna go in?”

She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good.” She tugs at his hand while sipping the lavender lemonade from Pavement in the other. “Come on. I’ll show you Bay State. I lived there my junior year after I came back from studying abroad in Dublin.”

Bay State Road is beautiful as always in the Boston summer, Ashley’s hand in Jack’s. She drags him out into the middle of the road and only squeals once when a car is coming and he pulls her to the sidewalk.

Campus isn’t the same when classes aren’t in session, but she hopes Jack can still feel some of the magic in the air through her stories.

“It suits you.”

She turns to Jack. “Hm?”

“This city. It suits you.”

“Oh,” she blushes for some reason. “Thanks.”

“Do you miss it here?”

“All the time,” Ashley admits. “New York is great, but Boston will always be home.”

“Would you think of working here? If given the option?” Jack asks.

“Maybe,” Ashley squeezes Jack’s hand, “But I also have reasons to stay in New York.”

He smirks, but it quickly transitions into something gentler. “Yeah?”

She could throw something snarky back at him, but she looks around the brownstones and lets out a deep breath. This is home, but flashes of Hoboken and East Village flicker in her mind and that’s also home.

She looks at Jack and feels overwhelmed. Oh. It’s Boston. It’s Hoboken. It’s East Village. It’s him. Jack is home.

four - two years

“Big day, huh?”

Ashley just smiles at Carissa, nudging her side. “We’ve come a long way since that phone call at 2 a.m.”

Carissa just snorts. “That phone call got us here.”

“True,” Ashley squeezes her arm as they make their way to their assigned table. “Love you, girly.”

“Love you more. I’m proud of us.”

Ashley grins, looking around as everyone is mingling amongst each other. There are past award winners here and Ashley’s already done some of her internal fangirling, especially when Lynsey Addario came up to her and wanted to talk to her.

She’s still decently new in this industry and knows she has so much to learn, but it’s comforting to see that all of her hard work has paid off.

People are starting to take their seats and Ashley looks around at her colleagues. Everyone’s dressed up and looks so lovely and Ashley smiles, looking down at her midnight blue dress. When Jack had seen her walk out of the changing room in it a few weeks ago, his eyes had popped out.

(“Fuck,” he had said. “Now I’m even more pissed I can’t make it to the dinner.”)

And yeah, it would be nice if he was here. But the Devils are playing the Islanders tonight. It sucks that he’s so close but so far away, but after two years now, it’s just part of the gig. And they make it work. So Ashley isn’t too upset about it, even if Jack is.

She’s a bit confused when there is an empty seat next to her, as it seems like the ballroom is filled. There’s no nametag there either, but her attention soon drifts off to the front. She has to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling too hard.

The Pulitzer Prize Awards Ceremony at Columbia University, also her alma mater in a way. Her 18-year-old-self who was sitting in the front row of Introduction to Journalism in Boston could’ve only dreamed about this day.

Opening remarks start and Ashley really does try to listen, but her eyes glaze over as her mind drifts off. She claps as the first few awards are being presented. She thinks about all the hours that it took to get this piece down, but also all the hours before — in her classes, at her college paper, in her internships, during her job search. The times she wanted to throw in the towel and just do something else. Anything else.

“I didn’t miss too much, did I?” She blinks, turning to the voice next to her. She freezes.

“Jack?” She breathes out. She hasn’t been sleeping much this week, so this could very well be a hallucination.

He beams and she reaches to place her hand on his cheek and she realizes as she scans her eyes up and down. Oh. He’s in her favorite suit of his. And he’s here.

“Oh my god,” she wraps her arms around his neck as her whole table cheers. Thankfully, there’s a lull in the ceremony where the whole room is blanketed in a low buzz. “What the f-don’t you have a game?”

“Technically,” Jack says, nodding at her coworkers with a charming smile. “Took a personal day.”

“What? You can do that?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, like he didn’t just skip a game to be here. He rubs his thumb on her shoulder as he kisses her temple. “This is a huge deal, baby. I wasn’t gonna miss it. I’m so proud of you.”

“Lindy’s not mad? Nico’s not mad?”

Jack snorts. “The second you won, I told Lindy to count me out for the game so he can do what he wants with that. Nico’s lowkey pissed he also can’t be here.” He turns to Carissa on the other side and beams. “Hey Care. Congrats.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Carissa beams. “Surprised you pulled this off.”

“Surprised we pulled this off.”

Ashley looks at Carissa. “You knew about this?”

“Of course. Who do you think made sure he would have a seat?”

She looks between her colleague and her boyfriend. Something creeps up her throat that feels a lot like love.

When her and Carissa are recognized and they have to go up to accept the award and give a short speech, it’s kinda a blur. All she remembers is Jack’s kiss on her cheek and receiving a standing ovation as she and Carissa walk up together. So many hours with her eyes glazed over glaring at the laptop. So many hours interviewing with people and reconfirming facts. So many hours dedicated to this one piece.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

As Carissa is speaking, she locks eyes with Jack. He’s beaming and his eyes are actually sparkling. His hair tousled and he’s so handsome and he’s hers.

(She almost trips walking back to him)

He chuckles, pulling her into another tight hug. “You’re amazing, baby. Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she chokes out. “Thank you for calming me down all the times I was freaking out.”

“Of course. I’m sure all those glasses of cold water helped,” he jokes. She always said the ice cold water he would place next to her laptop would wake up her brain.

She laughs into his shoulder. “They did.”

He pulls away and just stares at her, smile still on his face. Their attention is taken away by someone who wants to congratulate Ashley and has no recognition on their face when looking at Jack.

(Jack looks on with pride)

plus one - three years and four months

Stanley Cups are interesting. Even some of the best athletes of all time have never gotten one. And some that are only slightly above average perhaps were just placed on the right team in the right season.

But this Stanley Cup, in Ashley’s completely unbiased opinion, this one was fully deserved. By every single person on the team.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the absolute joy in Nico’s eyes as he lifted the cup in the air to a roaring crowd at The Rock, or how long the hug between Jack and Luke was when the final whistle sounded, or seeing Ellen cry as her two sons beckoned her in for a picture with the cup, her other son and husband standing close by with pride in their eyes.

The picture of her and Jack by the cup as he’s kissing her cheek as she smiles so widely her eyes are shut might be her favorite picture of them of all time.

Ashley had wondered if Jack was going to bring the cup to Toronto or Michigan. He ended up bringing it to Toronto while Luke brought it to Michigan. It ended up being all the same, since they were both present at both.

Jack winning the Cup is obviously a huge celebration. But he’s not the only one with something to celebrate.

Yesterday, when they were out to lunch with some of his extended family, Ashley had found out by phone that she was just promoted to be a director of her team. After her phone call, she had just covered her mouth in shock as she sat down on a nearby bench. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when a concerned Jack came up to her and asked what was wrong, before she told him and he smothered her face in kisses.

The parade around his pseudo-hometown is absolutely insane. Ashley doesn’t even know how she has a voice by mid-afternoon, much less how Jack has one considering that he’s been yelling all day. At some point, she forces him to sit down and chug a giant water bottle.

But she can’t overthink too hard. Her phone’s filled with pictures of Jack with his loved ones and she just feels proud.

Some of Jack’s extended family who still live in the area offered their home to host a party that night with just friends and family. Ashley did all she could to help prepare, which included coming over to decorate the night before and parking herself in the kitchen the second they got there to offer a helping hand. Well, she tried, before every single person pushed her away and insisted she go join the celebrations.

She finds herself in a long, in-depth conversation with one of Jack’s younger cousins who’s thinking about working in media when she notices it suddenly becomes quiet. Suddenly, the light flickers off and Ashley is confused.

Jack then walks in with a circular cake with candles lit paired with his beautiful smile. Ashley blinks in confusion as everyone’s eyes fall on her and before she can ask what the hell is going on, Luke bounds over to her and swings an arm around her shoulder, shaking her.

“Congrats on your promotion, Ash!” Luke exclaims.

Her mouth drops open and she looks around as everyone in the room cheers and shouts out their congratulations. She chuckles in shock as Jack walks closer. And then suddenly, all she can focus on is him.

“What are you doing?” She whispers, suddenly wanting to cry.

“Come on,” he says with the softest smile. “You didn’t think I’d just keep the news to myself, did you?”

“But this is your day,” she chokes out.

“My day. Your day. It’s all the same, eh?” Jack nods at the candles. “Hurry up. My arms are getting tired.”

A watery laugh from her before she blows out the candles at everyone’s cheers. Jack places the cake on a nearby table before smothering her in a tight hug. Ashley’s heart could burst right now at the love she feels from the people in the room and the person in her arms. She gets a chance to really look at the cake, which is white and sage with “Congratulations Jack and Ashley!” in beautiful script at the center. The lights turn back on and Quinn’s the first one who comes up to hug her. As Ellen is giving Ashley a kiss on the cheek, she sees Jack over Ellen’s shoulder, smiling at her.

She swallows as she pulls away, before glancing at the ring on her left finger. Ashley’s never let herself want much in her life. But if someone asked her what she wants with her life, she would just place them in this room. Right here. Right now.

(They cut the cake together. Ashley feels a buzzing joy throughout her bones)

#the winter fic exchange 2k24 #k writes #hockey fanfic #hockey writing #hockey blurb #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nhl #nhl writing #nhl blurb #nhl fic #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x ofc #new jersey devils

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seireitonin · 4 months

Text

More Nina x Toby hcs

(Bc I luv them and I haven’t talked about them in a minute. I luv my rare pair also once again I hc Nina as black so these will be written with that in mind)

Toby would avoid calling himself emo even though he listens to midwestern emo music and metal core/scremo music

He thinks emos are annoying he also thinks he’s better than everyone

But Nina doesn’t gaf

She introduces him as “my emo boyfriend”

He hates it

He hates it so much

But he tolerates it for her

Although Toby isn’t nice he actually makes an effort to be nicer to Nina because he loves her

He remembers how nice his sister was to him and tries to imitate that

He doesn’t do a good job all the time though

Toby gets jealous over Nina really easily

I mean really easily

If him and Nina are out somewhere and another guy is looking at her he will flash a weapon

Nina whose just a unstable as him thinks that’s so romantic and sweet

Not a red flag at all for her

She’ll just kiss him for it

It’s his way of saying “I love you” basically

Since he’ll rarely or never say it with his words

Toby steals Nina stuff all the time, especially stuff he likes to see on her

Cute shirt? Shoved in his bag. Nice eyeliner? In his pocket. Cute belt? He’ll put it on and walk out

Nina literally jumps with happiness when he gives her everything from his stealing hauls

She tells him to steal stuff for her too

“Hey you should totally steal that piercing jewelry for me”

“Why? We have a bunch at home.”

“Cuz you’re the best boyfriend ever also look these are pink and black like my hair!”

*eye roll* “fine.”

“Thanks :3”

When Nina and Toby are listening to rap music in the car Nina will stare at Toby every time the N word comes on

He looks at her blankly “do you seriously think I’m going to ever say that?”

“Dunno. You get really bold”

“Not like that….besides I know you’d get violent if I ever did and I just don’t want to deal with that.”

“Yeah Id totally beat your ass”

“I don’t know about that…”

“I do! :3”

Nina has totally pierced Toby’s nipples in his sleep because he can’t feel it and she wanted to practice

Nina has a hard time with boundaries and this definitely crossed Toby’s

He got so pissed and immediately took them out

Didn’t talk to her for the rest of the day until Nina let him pierce her

He pierced her bridge

She hates bridge piercings

That’s why he did it

She took it out a day later though

They made up after Nina said sorry

Nina has rainbow piercing jewelry and Toby’s is black

Nina gained relationship weight and hates it but Toby loves it

“It means I’m taking good care of you”

He says it as a joke but there’s definitely some truth in it

He has trouble expressing emotions and being nice so to see he’s actually doing an okay job and his efforts isn’t for nothing is nice

Toby literally had to learn and make effort to show/ feel affection and love bc of his ASPD and Nina loves ever second of effort he puts in

It shows how much he care that he’s literally putting in all this effort for her even if he still struggles a lot

Wrote these on lunch break don’t judge me too hard anyway I luv them sm

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby hc #ninathekillerheadcanons #ninathekillerhcs #nina the killer headcanons #ninathekiller #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby hcs #nina the killer

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peakyswritings · 2 months

Text

Of Biscuits and Memories || Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: During one of their nightly talks, Nina shares with Tommy way more than just biscuits as old memories rise to the surface.

Warnings: mentions of loss of a loved one, no proofreading, English is not my first language.

A/N: written for @look-at-the-soul ‘s grandma’s series. Again, this was such a beautiful way to honour your grandma, and I’m sorry I’m so late🤍

Nina is the OC from my ongoing Tommy Shelby x OC series Heart, Body and Soul. This takes place somewhere between chapter 4 and 5. It can be read as a standalone. It’s also linked to this moodboard and this post.

Word count: 1.1k

Read CH. 6 HERE.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Dividers credits

“Here.” A plate full of biscuits was put on the table in front of Tommy with a thud, the inviting smell immediately filling his nostrils. “Try them.”

Tommy’s lips slightly curled up at one corner, and once again he couldn’t resist the temptation to tease her. Putting on his most serious expression, he squinted his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not trying to poison me, are you?”

In the dim light of the kitchen, a glimpse of mischief shone in Nina’s dark eyes as a grin threatened to make its way on her face. “You weren’t supposed to find out.”

A chuckle escaped Tommy’s lips as he shook his head. They looked delicious, he had to admit. And even though he’d never been a big eater, observing the biscuits he couldn’t help but feel his mouth almost water. Eventually, he grabbed one of the biscuits to take a bite. The pastry easily crunched between his teeth, contrasting with the sweet cherry jam that melted on his tongue. They were delicious. And Nina must’ve noticed the appreciation in his expression, because a smug smile appeared on her face.

“They’re good.”

“It’s my grandma’s recipe. She used to make them all the time, when I was a child,” she explained, her gaze softening at the memory.

When Tommy had met her two weeks prior, Nina hadn’t seemed to him the kind of woman who would make heart-shaped biscuits in her free time. But he had soon realised there were a lot of things he didn’t know about her. And somewhere deep inside of him, he was glad he was getting to slowly unravel her night after night, talk after talk, discovering the hidden parts she seemed to hide from everyone else. It felt like a privilege.

“Tell me about her.”

12 years before

“Can you make them heart-shaped?” the ten-year-old chirped, resting her head on her hands while her legs swung back and forth under the table.

Casting a fake scolding look at her granddaughter, Anna Ferrante poured some flour on the table. “Wouldn’t you rather play with your cousins?”

Nina glanced out of the window, a sad expression crossing her face for a mere second as she watched the other girls chasing each other, their laughter echoing in the big garden. “No,” she shook her head, seemingly recomposing herself. “I’d rather stay with you.”

She brought her gaze back on her grandmother, and observed her wrinkled hands skilfully work the dough. She had always enjoyed watching her cook and bake. There was something hypnotising in the way she added and mixed the ingredients, taking simple elements to give them another shape and create something entirely new. It was as if she was pouring her whole soul into it every time. “Why did you put the flour on the table?” she furrowed her brows.

“So the dough won’t stick to it,” the old woman patiently explained, rolling out the pastry with a rolling pin. “You want to help me?” she asked her granddaughter, handing her a small glass to cut the dough.

Nina’s eyes shone with delight and a big smile lit up her features, showing two dimples at the corner of her lips. Happy to be useful in some way, she quickly grabbed the glass.

“Watch first,” her grandma said before starting to form the first biscuit. “You can use a little spoon to carve a heart inside the dough, after you’ve shaped it. But don’t press too hard,” she instructed, showing her step by step what she was supposed to do. When she was done, she placed the biscuit on a baking pan. “We’ll put the jam when they’re out of the oven, they’re better like that.”

Taking the task seriously, Nina started to carefully shape the biscuits under her grandma’s watchful gaze, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Anna Ferrante took advantage of her granddaughter’s help to slow down. She wasn’t getting any younger, after all, and the things she once used to do with great ease were turning out to be rather tiring tasks. But at the same time, her heart clenched at the thought that Nina felt so out of place with the girls her age that she preferred to spend her time inside. And although her eyesight had lost its sharpness under the weight of the years, she wasn’t blind. Her blurred pupils could perfectly see how much of an outcast she was in her own family.

She was a special child. She had a sweetness to her, a sensitivity that couldn’t be described as anything else but disarming. And it scared her as just as much as it amazed her. Because Nina was good, and the world wasn’t kind, and she would find out way too soon.

“Maybe when we’re done you can go play with your cousins,” the older woman tried again, not wanting to think that her granddaughter actually wished to be on her own.

“They say I’m dark and weird,” Nina shrugged, as if to shake away those words. But then some emotion crossed her eyes, as if doubt was slowly taking root in her mind, and she stopped what she was doing to look up at her. “Do you think I am?”

Anna Ferrante’s lips curved in a sad smile as she shook her head in negation. But watching her granddaughter’s doubtful expression, she was hit by the awareness that she saw and noticed way more than she let on. Without saying a word, she took a napkin and wiped some flour off the child’s nose. Too sensitive, too smart for her own good.

“You’re not weird. And you’re not dark,” she said, looking right in the little girl’s eyes. “You are the sun, Nina. Don’t forget that.”

“Well, it’s gotten late,” Nina spoke after a moment of silence, looking at the clock on the wall. Until then, she had never talked about her grandmother, the pain of her loss had always been too strong for her to even name her. But it wasn’t pain she had felt, while remembering things she had buried deep inside her mind. It was gratefulness. Because she had known her and loved her, and she had been loved by her. Nothing could take that away from her, not even death.

However, there was another kind of grief that kept on raising to the surface, no matter how hard she tried to push it back down. Sometimes she mourned the little girl she used to be. That little girl was not afraid to wear her heart on her sleeve. She was not afraid to be soft. She did not hide herself behind a mask of indifference. A useless mask, because pretending not to care about anything didn’t make the pain any less real. She had butchered that little girl, and reserved her no mercy.

If her grandmother were still there, would she still think she was the sun?

Heart, Body and Soul tag list: @zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark @kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4 @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse @citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @red-riding-wood

Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella @caelys @lucillethings @peakyxtommy @queenofkings1212 @lyarr24 @kmc1989 @call-sign-shark @jomarch-wannabe @ce1iat @red-riding-wood @optimisticsandwichgladiator

Tommy Shelby tag list: @50svibes

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 2 years

Text

Vigilante Shit

pairing: kaz brekker x powerful!reader

genre: fluff

el's thoughts: requested by @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r i'm obsessed with powerful!readers can you tell??

“Sorry I’m late.”

The room fell silent as tall heeled boots clicked on the floor as a girl not much older than the rest of the crows walked into the room. No one dared to make eye contact with her piercing eyes framed by a sharp black cat eye, matching the rest of her black leather clothes. The girl shot Kaz a wink and sat down across from him, “Feel free to continue.” She waved her hand at him before looking around the room. Her leg bounced in place, making her heel click on the wooden floor repeatedly.

Jesper and Inej shared a look and kept their heads down discreetly. Nina furrowed her eyebrows at the sudden shift in the room, and confused at who just walked into the room. “I’m sorry,” Kaz’s sharp eyes snapped to the burnette as she continued to speak. “Who is she? And why is she here?” Nina noticed the pair beside her cringe back into their seats ever-so-slightly.

“I’m right here, darling, you can ask me directly.”

Nina felt chills run down her spine as the mysterious woman spoke. Her voice sounded the way a queen’s would, power and control dripping off her words like honey.

“Y/N L/N is the name, feel free to use it. I’m here because your boss wanted my help with this next heist of yours.”

Clearing her throat, Nina built up a bit of courage, “And why do we need your help?”

“For this heist specifically? Charming the guards.” Y/N brought her hand up and twirled her fingers around, black smoke forming in thick strings moving like snakes around her hand. A gasp fell from the lips of Wylan, Nina and Matthias. “You’re a shadow summoner?”

Y/N laughed, “No, Love. This is magic, much more powerful than silly little shadows. At least in my humble opinion”

Kaz scoffed, trying to hide his smirk. He knew her opinion was the farthest thing from humble, he also knew she slipped into her very best for his crows. He knew more about her than he’d care to admit. She was just a young girl when they met, traveling to the big bad city. Orphans. That’s what they had in common, so she stuck with him and Jordie. She waited for him by the harbor. When he returned, she was quick to build a name for herself so she helped him build a new name. She made the name sound like a curse, a whispered summoning of evil itself. It instilled fear into the bones of merchers and gang leaders alike. All thanks to her.

“Cat’s got your tongue, Brekker?”

The comment caused him to roll his eyes, “I’d like to get back to the plan if it isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you.” Y/N simply nodded her head for him to continue, biting back a smile.

“Everyone knows their rolls? Any questions?”

Everyone shook their heads other than Nina. “I have a quick unrelated question for Y/N.” Kaz rolled his eyes, “Zenik…”

“It’s fine, Brekker, let her speak.” Her voice wasn’t quite soft or kind, but it wasn’t as sharp as her y/e/c eyes were. “I just need to know… Who do you dress for? You can’t possibly just wear these clothes everyday.”

“I don’t dress for women or men.” A smirk found its way to Y/N’s red lips, “I dress for no one other than myself. Oh and a dear little friend called revenge. Dramatic, I know, but I only speak the truth.”

Once everyone left the room, Kaz and Y/N were finally alone. She helped him place the maps and plans away when Kaz spoke. “What did you think of them?” She turned to face him, “Your crows?” He nodded. “Oh, they're lovely. I especially like that Zenik girl, she’s cute.”

~*~

kaz brekker taglist: @juneberrie @sophierequests @whorehalloween @maliciousbrekker @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #six of crows imagines #six of crows x reader #six of crows #ellora.writes #scheduled

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leon-swedfinqs · 2 months

Text

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Summary:

Home was always something that was difficult for Crowley to define. In his youth, it was under the powerful “love” of the looming figure which he admired and loyally followed. Now, he supposed, it was a rickety townhouse filled with people he adored and felt the urge to protect no matter what. But also, his home was amongst the stars — after avoiding it for so long, it was finally time to open that front door and proclaim what was his. It seemed fate was finally getting it’s way.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, BAMF Aziraphale + Crowley, Crowley Whump, Hints At Past Abusive Relationship, Found Family

Word Count: 24,943

READ ON AO3

There is a word block limit on tumblr so I apologize for the formatting :(

“Oh, by the way, Crowley? There’s a letter for you on the table,” Nina called.

“I never get mail!” she heard the tiefling yell from the office.

“Well you do now! Drag your sorry ass over here and open it!”

The tiefling begrudgingly pushed himself up and trudged into the kitchen as Nina slipped past to go out into the back garden and join Maggie on the deck. Whenever mail was sent to their home, it was usually addressed to one of the girls, Aziraphale, or to the business as a whole. Crowley prided himself in the fact that this was something he didn’t have to worry about (alongside the fact that he was still holding the playful grudge he had with Aziraphale over their old PO Box).

Like Nina said, sitting on the kitchen table was a long yellow-brown envelope, addressed to his full name “Anthony Crowley” in golden script. However, as he picked him the hefty letter and flipped it over, he froze as he was met with the wax seal that kept the note shut.

Twin horns.

The all-too-familiar symbol made a pit form in his stomach. With shaking hands, Crowley carefully ripped the envelope open and pulled out the delicate parchment. He took a moment to breathe before unfurling the note.

“Anthony, An interesting name. Masculine in nature. Rough. I suppose it will take some time to get used to, given enough time. I suppose it suits you, in an odd ironic way. Did you know that it means ‘the priceless one’? You most definitely are to me. Surely this has caught your attention, my lamb — it took a bit longer for me to find a way to contact you, considering you were ignoring all of my other calls and star signs. I wish to speak with you. In person, preferably. Wouldn’t that be nice, don’t you agree? We have much to catch up on and discuss. You know where to meet me. You know when you’ll see me.”

~~~~~~

“And he just knows!!” Raphael’s smile was nearly too big for her cheeks, “I was so worried when he asked to meet me because he didn’t say a time but he was there! Isn’t it romantic?” she swooned. Beelzebub had to tilt their chin quite high to meet Raphael’s head in the clouds.

“Romantic…,” they parroted in a far more nonplussed tone, “I don’t see why stalking you is romantic.”

Back then, the plucky overachiever wore her heart on her sleeve, and hardly recognized the fact that her cheeks flushed bright red and puffed out stubbornly. Nothing held her back all that time ago. “It’s not stalking—that makes it sound creepy. He just knows me so well, we’re basically on the same wavelength. Maybe our love brought us together—we both just chose a random time to go to the gazebo and our hearts were so in sync that it perfectly aligned,” she hummed.

“I’m surprised I’m not talking to your feet you’re so head over heels,” Beelzebub grumbled.

“I know! Isn’t it wonderful?” Raphael squeed. She had completely missed Beelzebub’s connotation to their remark, either purposefully or inadvertently while drunken on lust.

Beelzebub rolled their eyes and turned their attention to something else. “Let me know when your next date is,” they muttered.

“Oooo! Why, wanna help me pick out an outfit?” Raphael smiled.

“So I can avoid being within a 200 mile radius,” they groaned.

“Oh don’t be so grumpy,” Raphael tsked as she went to her closet and began to flip through articles, already trying to pick her next date attire, “and besides, I may not even be able to tell you! After all, our dates are more like fate than pre planned. He’ll know where to find me. And I’ll know where to find him too, when our hearts meet and we align in time, place, and space.”

“Go to poetry club or cram it,” Beelzebub snapped as they cracked open a book on their desk.

~~~~~~

Crowley knew he could find Lucifer easily if he wanted to. That still made him sick.

He didn’t know what was going to happen, and that simple thought frightened him.

For years he’d had nightmares about encountering Lucifer—he’d lived through plenty of scenarios, some that seemed obviously impossible and others that felt terrifyingly real. But even with years of time to think and process and theorize, he had no solid foundation now.

The recognition and seeming acceptance of his new name was, well, odd in his eyes. Mainly because each time he had entered a panicked episode imagining once again meeting Lucifer, he was no longer Crowley but instead someone he’d forgone long ago. But now Lucifer had set the standard: he was entering this encounter as Crowley. He is Crowley. And what would Crowley do against the ram?

One thing was clear, not initially recognized but understood the moment Crowley took a step back to acknowledge his own thought process; he was leaving.

Crowley was entering the fight, yes, but the life he built for himself and his family, he would preserve that above all else. It didn’t matter if he wasn’t born as Crowley, that this problem didn’t start with this person, but he would make damn well sure that his legacy was as Crowley.

After nearly a week of planning, debating, and regretting, the rogue slipped out of the adventurer’s guild and started running.

When Aziraphale woke up and didn’t see nor feel Crowley around at first, he didn’t think much of it. The tiefling would occasionally go out into town or sulk out into the back garden on his own and would return later that day when he was awake again. He’s been seeing it in his eyes, his partner hasn’t necessarily been doing too well either — so letting him have those moments where he (hopefully) did something to take care of himself was important.

He didn’t think much of it the second time he awoke either. Sometimes Crowley would forget to come upstairs, too engrossed in what had finally kept him preoccupied, or he had fallen asleep on the couch in pure exhaustion and couldn’t be woken (without resorting to violence, at least).

The third time he woke, he was met with Maggie instead. She looked nervous, upset.

“My dear, what’s wrong?” He had asked.

“It’s Mr. Crowley,” she said with a frown. “We haven’t seen him in a week.”

That’s why Aziraphale found himself standing over Crowley’s desk, holding himself up on the back of the chair as his head spins. Two letters sat neatly on the wood — one ripped open bearing Crowley’s full name requesting his presence, with no clear destination, date, or sender. The flap of the envelope bore a dark red wax seal, with the ram-horns symbol seemingly staring directly into his soul. The second was addressed to him, tightly sealed with light red wax.

“Aziraphale…” Anathema carefully started.

“He rarely told me his fears,” Aziraphale said, his tone flat and emotionless as his eyes flicked over to the opened letter, scanning over the details. “But in his sleep, he cried about a man with horns, begging for his forgiveness. Begging him to stop, to let him go, to let him run.”

He sighed as he picked up the envelope addressed to him and meekly looked over at the witch. “He could already be lost, Anathema.”

Aziraphale glanced down at the note, a frown etched deep into his face. He gently opened it with steady hands, taking extra care to not crumple the paper, lest he ruin the message.

“Angel, I’m not usually one for colorful words or fancy penmanship. You know that. You’ve been doing our paperwork for the past couple of decades. I’m honored I spent my freedom with you. Fate? She’s mischievous. I was nearly a couple of days from turning and running back to what I used to call home and beg to go back, no matter. You’ve always been my home, since then. Even if it took a while for me to come around to the idea. Keep the bed warm for when I come back, okay? Till then, you’ll find me where the stars hang the highest. Look up and smile for me. Promise? - Crowley”

Inside was a ribbon, a hair tie that Crowley would use whenever his hair got too long and Aziraphale couldn’t cut it in a timely manner. It was the same tie they used for their impromptu wedding ceremony, tying their hands together for the hand fasting. He never saw the tiefling part without it since then.

Aziraphale had to quickly thrust the note away and tuck his head into his shoulder to avoid wetting the paper with his tears. If this was indeed the last correspondence from his Crowley, he wouldn’t let anything touch it, let alone his own sorrow.

“Oh…Aziraphale…” Anathema frowned as she carefully drew closer to him and extended her arms slowly. His tears were large and dewy like his normal blubbery sadness, but his demeanor was more stiff and hardened overall, with a struggle to contain his current internal turmoil.

“T-That…fool…” Aziraphale wavered as his hands found the ribbon and clutched it carefully, rubbing the surface between his thumb and forefinger. Anathema feared some sort of divorce from the abandonment of the ribbon, but she quickly dashed the idea when she considered who she was thinking about—if those stupid lovebirds split intentionally, love was dead. Instead she carefully peered over into the cleric’s hands and scanned the message before her breath wavered.

“He’ll be back, Azira. He said so, ‘keeping the bed warm’ and all,” she said as she reached to grab his shoulder. Aziraphale, however, pulled away.

“He knows he may not return. It’s why he left this,” Azi snapped as he held up the ribbon before his shoulders slumped and he gazed at the cord softly, “I can’t honor his note.”

“Huh?” Anathema blinked.

“I’m not just going to lie in bed keeping it warm,” Aziraphale huffed, “I need to find him and bring him back to our Eden.”

“But Aziraphale-“

“-He did the same for me. He’s probably still doing it, knowing what he’s like. Protecting us, protecting me. I just can’t…I can’t let him be self-sacrificing. Again.”

“But we have no clue on where he could be,” Maggie frowned. “There’s no destination or return address. How did he even know where to go, even?”

“Ram’s horns,” Aziraphale said simply. “The insignia on the wax. ‘W-where the stars are hung highest’. He didn’t need to be told where to meet who he has a connection with.”

Aziraphale sighed and closed his fist around the ribbon, wiping away the tears that slipped away from him. “He kept his secrets guarded and close to his heart. But…I have a hunch he went home.”

“No, he didn’t.”

Aziraphale looked over at the source of the remark—Nina looking at him with a stony gaze and crossing her arms.

“Pardon?”

“He didn’t go home. ‘This’ is his home, Aziraphale. Don’t forget that,” she said. The woman walked over to the desk and picked up the note with the rams horn seal. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she scanned over the words. “Crowley kept a lot from all of us because he wanted to leave that life behind; for both his and our sakes, it was better to move on from it. But there were a few rare nights where under the influence of the bottle he let some things slip. And let me tell you, this ex is bad news. Crowley left here because he’s still trying to keep that life separate from the one he built here with us. I’m all for respecting privacy, but this has gone too far — we need to force ourselves into this situation.”

“I completely agree,” Aziraphale nodded. He gave one last wipe of his cheeks before shaking his head and straightening his shoulders determinedly. “He needs us now, I’ll drag him home by the tail if I have to.”

“Sorry to interrupt the moment,” Anathema piped in, “but…well…about ‘home’. I have a prophecy I think I need to share about this whole mess.”

The others all turned and glanced at the witch curiously. She sighed and straightened her glasses as she composed herself.

“I didn’t think too much of it at first when I received it earlier this week, it felt like it was going to be far in our future. I suppose I was wrong,” she sighed. “‘A lamb go runneth from what is to what once was. Its home burns in its wake as thy flock start to speculate. The ram has been virtuous in its patience, for now it shall earn the prize. Child of the stars, accept thy fate and be carried home’.”

“Well…I can guess what some of that means,” Nina huffed.

“That…that can’t be right,” Aziraphale mumbled. Anathema looked at him puzzled — while the others had questioned the validity of her predictions before, he was generally a firm believer and had actually defended and helped decipher her premonitions on multiple occasions. He seemed to know what she was thinking, perhaps a prophecy of his own.

“I’m sorry dear girl, but I refuse to accept that prediction. While I do agree with Nina regarding the speculation of what ‘home’ may mean for Crowley, implying that the ram, or…well I suppose it’s Lucifer, as he told me once…will receive a ‘prize’ is…unthinkable, and I refuse to entertain it,” Aziraphale huffed before immediately turning away and snatching up a nearby wicker filled with random blankets and cloths. He flipped the container and deposited the contents onto the floor before walking over to a nearby shelf and beginning to stare at it.

Anathema shot Newt a look they had long since normalized between each other, one that spoke more volumes than an eye roll and was particularly targeted at the usual bullshittery of their bosses. Still though, she gave Aziraphale a bit of a break, given the current situation. “Azira, I’m saying this as your friend. But even the most powerful denial doesn’t undo a prophecy,” she said as she approached him. The cleric didn’t look at her and instead began pulling books and other bobbles from the shelf to place in the basket.

She sighed. “Come on, I know you’re upset. Now’s not the time to pout and do something reckless.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Aziraphale nodded as he pulled a few more books into the basket, “I hope you understand my dear, I haven’t gone mad. I’m currently trying to pack the house for the impending fire. And I’d suggest you all also procure your valuables if you’d rather they not be engulfed.”

“…oh,” Anathema blinked. “I suppose you’re right.”

“You don’t really think we’ll lose the house, do you…?” Maggie carefully asked.

“It’s not an if, it’s a when. I don’t want us to be unprepared,” Aziraphale huffed. “I have to ready myself to go retrieve my partner, and I’m not going to do that if I’m also going to constantly worry about all of your safety and whether the memories we keep here are protected. I simply do not have the energy to multitask.”

The basket was filled with odd books and random trinkets that were kept on the office bookshelf — were those really that important…?

“Now off you pop!”

“You’re serious…?” Newt asked hesitantly.

“As the plague,” Aziraphale huffed. Newt still didn’t seem fully placated and the cleric took a moment out of his planning to sigh and shuffle to the nearby hall closet. He dug through it before pulling out a bundle of leather satchels. With a quick couple of tosses, each person got their own bag.

“There, bags of holding,” Aziraphale said plainly, “should help you pack. I ask that you pack all that is important to you, but don’t take everything. If we’re seen by any potential prying eyes lugging all of our furniture out, our element of surprise is for naught. I know you will miss the house, I certainly will,” Aziraphale paused as he glanced around the loved walls, “-but we can and will survive and rebuild. Don’t worry about expenses, I will find new furniture and accommodations and whatnot. Just get what you need. We’ll reconvene here in 2 hours.”

“Why on earth do you have so many bags of holding?” Nina blinked as she turned the back around in her hands. “Aren’t these, like…not at all easy to acquire?

“This wouldn’t be the first time we moved,” Aziraphale said simply.

The group stood awkwardly for a moment, before deciding not to pry and to leave the cleric to tear apart the room and pull out things that were most likely private. If they only had two hours to pack, they needed to get started.

Once Aziraphale was alone, he heavily sighed and sunk into his plush chair that sat near Crowley’s desk. He grabbed a notebook out of the basket and turned it around in his hands. It was one of Crowley’s — he rarely ever wrote or kept a journal, but he has caught him doing so recently in the periods where he’s awake. He had a gut feeling it held all the things he wasn’t saying, what Aziraphale was catching in brief moments while he was being taken care of.

“You’re coming home. I promise you,” he sighed

~~~~~~

Crowley didn’t have to wait long. As he stared at the iron gates sculpted with motif of each 12 zodiac figures, he was indeed reminded of the first time he’d encountered these gates with absolute giddiness, though he did take some slight comfort now, in recognizing that they didn’t feel as grand as they had before.

There was a brief moment for him to pause outside of the lock sanctuary before Lucifer finally appeared. The mortar lines in the cobble just beyond the gate gained a faint red glow that emanated from a single point. The cobble shook and shifted as the stones began to reshape and part to form a passage for the ram. From behind the red glow, the towering figure of the near-god stepped through, the light seeming to part as he moved. Once outside, the stones shook again and re-merged.

The two stared at each other in stone silence. Crowley was using all of his energy to form a more neutral and cold expression, while Lucifer seemed calm and content with just a hint of smugness, though that was quite normal for his face.

“Welcome home,” Lucifer smiled. He gestured his chin upward slightly, and the gates instantly pulled apart, granting access to the tiefling, “We’ve much to discuss.”

Crowley didn’t bother agreeing or disagreeing, or even showing any physical indication of his feelings. He refused to let Lucifer win by giving any indication that he was happy, or even content about the current situation. But if he dared fight back, he worried about unintended consequences to himself, and those he loved. The most he did was follow behind Lucifer and quietly, determined not to speak unless spoken to, and to not give any information unless directly inquired about it.

Soon enough, the two found themselves a quiet area of the garden, one of Lucifer’s personal spots that he’d often whisked Raphael to for various kanoodling. A small table, two chairs, and a basket were already set up, awaiting the participants.

Lucifer sat down in one of the chairs as he gestured to the other across the table.

“Come, have a seat,” he purred. “I’ve prepared some lunch. You traveled far to get here, no?”

Crowley was hesitant as he rigidly stood a few feet away from the arrangement. His whole body was buzzing, refusing to move any closer. He had to keep up appearances, however. It was like this was a giant game of chess. Every move needed to be specific and calculated, one thing wrong and he feared what could happen. It was a gamble.

And he was terrible at chess.

Finally, Crowley made himself move and carefully sat in the chair, keeping his hands in his lap and refusing to acknowledge the food’s presence.

‘It’s like he’s looming over us,’ he heard in his ears. ‘His horns are aimed at the heart.’

‘It’s been too long, I’ve grown too much to let him win so easily,’ Crowley thought to himself.

Lucifer hummed as he pulled the basket closer to him and started to carefully unpack the contents.

“So, let’s do some quick introductions,” Lucifer hummed. That caught Crowley off guard, but he was very quick to rein that in. After all, confusion was probably what Lucifer wanted, or anything similar to lower Crowley's defenses. Instead he said nothing and let Lucifer start.

“So, ‘Anthony.’ Anthony J. Crowley. This whole persona you invented to evade me. Shall we drop it now that we’ve finished playing hide and seek?” Lucifer hummed as he pulled out a small tray of meats and cheeses. It was spoken with such calmness, as if it was merely a game to play with a child rather than an over 30 year long conflict. Crowley again mulled over his answer but ultimately decided that if he were to assert his dominance in the situation and not fold to Lucifer’s will, he needed to show enough resistance to gain respect, but not too much as to anger his opponent.

“I prefer you continue calling me Anthony actually,” Crowley said plainly. Further remarks and potential justifications flashed his mind, though he bit his tongue. Lucifer paused before shrugging his shoulders.

“I suppose that’s fine. You have been living with it for quite a while. It’s only reasonable that you’d still be attached. Though I hope you aren’t attached to the other play things you found on your sabbatical.”

Crowley bristled at his words, but tried his best to keep his expression neutral. The ram was just pushing his pawns forward to make room for the rest.

Lucifer hummed as he placed a small stack of meats and cheeses in his mouth, before going back to the basket and pulling out a few glasses and a bottle of wine.

“I find it quite cute, when I think about it,” Lucifer smiled to himself. “I was told you went domestic. I thought they were joking. My energetic lamb settled down in a house in the middle of a thriving village? Not even Leo could predict that with their tarot and foresight. It must’ve been like a game of house, no?”

Crowley’s toes curled under the table. He still stood firm.

Lucifer studied him for a moment, trying to pick up on cracks in his defense, though he was actually surprised at Crowley's newfound poker face. Raphael couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. Still though, he truly believed his lamb was still the same, just disillusioned from their time away, and a few more pokes and prods would break their walls.

“You know, if you wanted that you could’ve just said so, lamb,” Lucifer tsked he poured the dark red wine into the glasses before setting down the bottle and picking up one of them between his fingers. “Honestly, I would’ve preferred if you told me sooner, you know, I can give you whatever you want. And I still can, of course. We’re just also going to have to deal with some of the cosmetic changes that have met you from age. Nothing a few charms or continuous ‘disguise self’ casts, can’t fix.”

Crowley stiffened before exhaling a long, quiet breath. As steadily as he could, he picked up his own glass and swirled the wine around in it. “Already thinking about dressing up your favorite doll? I don’t think I’m the only one ‘playing’.”

“Oh, but dress up is one of the best parts,” Lucifer mused. “You always loved the dresses I would pick out for you. You even took some when you left, do they still fit?”

Crowley huffed as he took a swig of the wine. It felt like Lucifer was carefully dancing around the topic he wanted to broach, pull him into certain feelings before addressing it. He can see right through him.

“Wouldn’t know, they’re long gone now,” he laughed to himself. “Made for some quick petty change when I needed it.”

Lucifer hummed and set down his glass. He reached forward, seeing to grab out for another snack, but he suddenly redirected and suddenly his hand was on Crowley’s face. He carefully cradled his chin and right cheek. Crowley sat absolutely still.

“You did always have that spunk to you. Such an alluring little minx,” Lucifer said gently. His hand drifted upwards and he used his thumb to carefully pull the skin around Crowley’s eyes more taught, “Ah…yes, underneath those wrinkles is still the same goddess. My little lamb. So pure and innocent, obedient to its Shepard.”

Lucifer’s hand moved down and instead moved to hold Crowley's lower jaw entirely, gently, “You’re still my precious lamb, aren’t you Raphael? Not a deceiver, not a rebel, not a snake.”

He punctuated his final word by dramatically tightening his grip, instead grasping Crowley’s face violently and staring him down with a sudden fury that the rogue was not familiar with.

The two had their eyes locked in a silent stare. Crowley tried his best to keep his breathing even and calm.

“You’re far too feeble and sweet to be a predator,” Lucifer purred. “It’s far too much power, it would hurt you.”

Lucifer loosened his grip and trailed his thumb along Crowley’s jaw, the pad of his finger nicking on some of the scales.

“It took your beautiful eyes,” he sighed longingly.

Lucifer’s gaze drifted off. He recognized Crowley was stubborn to engage, but he used that to lead the conversation as he desired. If he wanted a break, he would take one. And now that he was here, practically in his victory lap, he wanted to savor it.

His gaze moved upwards, and although the average person could not see the stars at day through the planet’s atmosphere, Crowley recognized that Lucifer was communing with the cosmos just then.

“Do you remember,” Lucifer started, “at the koi pond, I said I would do anything for you. I would move the stars and heavens themselves if I had to.”

Crowley hesitated as the memory came to the forefront of his mind. Even still, to this day, the memory was painted with love. He heavily swallowed. “I recall.”

“And I would. And I will. Anthony, I’ve found a way to fix this. I could undo this little problem. You could go back to you, and we could go back to us. You’re magic back, your autonomy back, your life back. No more hiding or playing house or scales and golden eyes. I can fix this if you’ll let me.”

Crowley took a sharp breath. His thoughts trailed back to Adam, how his whole presence felt displaced in time as his whole star cycle was forcibly shifted to nearly match his.

Grabbing and pulling a timeline was not an easy feat. It was a dangerous act. Adam was lucky that his soul was still intact.

“Just say the word,” Lucifer hummed. “It’ll be perfect again.”

Crowley and Lucifer had very different definitions of perfect. Right now Lucifer was trying to tempt him, waving candy in front of his face in an attempt to get him to bite before thinking of the consequences.

What if he said no? What was the expectation then—would Lucifer lock him away? Brainwash him? Let him go?

Still though, the prospect of his freedom from a celestial connection was no doubt intriguing.

“…and what if I say no?” Crowley asked carefully.

“And why would you?” Lucifer teased.

“Just…humor me. And if I said no?”

“Wellll…” Lucifer drew out the L, almost as if he was whistling with his tongue poking between his teeth. “I’m sure we would come to some sort of compromise, no?”

Crowley cocked up an eyebrow.

“I don’t believe you’ve ever made a compromise in your life. Seems odd to start now, no?” he said.

“I would do it for you, and only you. Don’t you see? You’re the only one who has this kind of power over me, Raphael. It’s why I need you back. And I know you feel the same, it’s why you called back to me.”ñ

That made Crowley stop. “What…what are you talking about, ‘calling back to you’?” he blinked.

“Oh there’s no need to act coy, lamb. I felt you connect to your power, reach across the stars and call for me. You can put on the stubborn act, and I’m happy to play pretend with you, but I know you want this. Why are you resisting?”

Crowley bit his tongue, holding back a hiss as he felt his anger spike. He never would reach out to the power for him, he only ever did that for Aziraphale. There was no other choice, he was willing to do anything for him.

‘Oh Aries, you think so highly of yourself,’ the voice in his mind sneered.

“That wasn’t for you,” Crowley huffed.

Lucifer stopped, and for the briefest moment Crowley got a small bit of satisfaction from giving him pause.

“…what ever could you mean, my lamb? Who else would it be for? You’re not running around with Libra, are you?” Lucifer asked.

“I’m not ‘running around’ with anyone,” Crowley growled, “I…I was in a desperate situation. Had to help someone in need, so I accessed my magic again. That’s all,” Crowley said. Lucifer immediately smiled — not a good sign.

“You’re a bad liar,” he mused, “I felt it, you didn’t just access your magic, you called upon the power of the cosmos itself, darling. That’s not standard healing fodder.”

“Why I accessed my magic is not your concern,” Crowley huffed.

“Oh, so it’s your magic now?” Lucifer grinned. “When it encroaches and uses my domain, I would definitely say it is worth my concern. I know you. You didn’t touch it for decades. And then you prayed. You begged.”

Crowley frowned. Seemed the point wouldn’t be let go. Still, he hoped talking around it would be sufficient. Not quite lying, but not quite answering.

“I saved the world, you know,” Crowley suddenly said. It was strange, he’d never really thought about it that way (it was more a matter of “I rescued my husband” really) but in all technical senses the unintended consequences of his actions did probably save a lot of people.

Including Lucifer himself.

“Where did this sudden ego come from?” Lucifer asked.

“You were asking about the magic. The only reason I reconnected to the stars was so that I could stop the Eclipsian’s attempted magical genocide from a few months ago,” Crowley huffed.

“…you’re bluffing, that wasn’t you,” Lucifer said

“But it was. I utilized the power of the zodiac and I took down a crazy cult with it. That’s the only reason I accessed that magic. If I didn’t do anything, who knows? Maybe neither of us would have our magic anymore. I believe I had a fairly good reason,” he smiled.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion. “I wasn’t informed that you were there, you know.”

“You didn’t need to be,” Crowley said simply, “though I do think this is important for us to talk about. See, you mentioned this power was too much for me. But considering that was my first time using it, I’d say I’m using it pretty well, no?”

Perhaps he was getting a bit too ballsy here, but he’d managed to throw Lucifer off guard and figured drilling the point may give him the upper hand. However, he’d misspoken.

“First time?” Lucifer parroted quietly.

Shit.

“Well-“

“You’ve kept it suppressed but still connected all this time, haven’t you? But you used it, really and truly, so why didn’t it connect?” Lucifer mused, though almost to himself at that point as he finally stood up from his chair and approached, immediately breaching Crowley's personal space and grabbing his shoulders. He stared into his eyes before a glimmer of realization. "Oh but you have. You're a ticking time bomb, Raphael. Everyday the sky gets closer to you, you're probably already hearing it calling, aren't you?"

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Crowley huffed.

‘He’s just messing with you,’ it whispered. ‘You’re safe. It won’t happen unless you say so.’

Lucifer hummed as he gently pushed a strand of Crowley’s hair behind his ear. “The tips of your ears turn pink when you lie, did you know that?”

Crowley flushed bright red and looked away.

‘This isn’t what you’re meant to do. Don’t let him take your life away,’ it whispered, trying to ground the star child though only causing further turmoil.

“Shh…” Crowley mumbled.

“You’re hearing it,” Lucifer affirmed before tsking. “My lamb, please. We need to act quickly if you want to sever the connection.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” Crowley quickly spat.

‘Don’t let him!’ it yelled.

“Oh, it wouldn’t hurt. You’re not thinking straight if you’re hearing double, of course.”

Crowley squirmed, trying to slip out of his grip. “Y-you don’t have power over me, not anymore.”

Those eight little words were enough to set Lucifer off. His fist tightened harshly, enough that Crowley let out an accidental pained moan. The divets in Lucifer’s horns began to glow a reddish orange, and his next exhale from his nose was signaled by visible vapor.

“You’ve forgotten your place!” Lucifer growled through clenched teeth, “You’re so fucking stubborn! Know your place! Don’t you see you’re mine?! What are you even resisting?! What do you want?!”

“I want to go home!” Crowley blurted out as his own serpentine features flared. The whites of his eyes disappeared into a pool of gold, his fangs sharpened, and the patches of black scales began to creep further. Lucifer paused for a moment, almost confused.

“You’re already…” he mumbled silently before the realization hit him and his fury blossomed, “You’re still attached to that play family of yours?! You’re mental!”

Lucifer suddenly thrust forward, tossing Crowley to the ground and stumbling out of his garden chair. When the tiefling righted and looked back up at him, Lucifer had manifested a small sphere floating in his hand. The image was blurry but he recognized it instantly — the house. Home base for the adventurer’s guild.

“You know, I didn’t think I would have to result in this,” Lucifer tsked. “But they’re getting in the way, and frankly, it’s getting a bit annoying!”

“L-leave them out of this!” Crowley shouted as he scrambled up to his feet, hitting his against his chest as an aggressive motion. “Your fight is with me!”

“My fight is with Raphael,” Lucifer snapped, “and I will destroy all that is this ‘Crowley’ to reach her. This is for your own good.”

Lucifer’s fingers curled, and his middle finger met his thumb, readying a snap. As they just barely began to slide against each other, Crowley screamed so desperately and quickly that his words barely made sense.

“I’LL DO IT!”

Lucifer paused and stared at him. Crowley’s heart was beating out of his chest at the moment and his nerves were shooting off the charts. There was a 50/50 chance his next words would instead be replaced by vomit.

“I’ll…change back…” he struggled out before cringing as he dropped his head and fell onto his knees, “Please…help me turn back…I’ll do anything you want, I’ll be whatever you want, just don’t hurt them…”

Lucifer smirked as he watched the tiefling grovel at his feet, his whole body shaking.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Lucifer purred as he got down to a crouch to look down at him. His hand was still up, prepared to snap as the sphere of flame floated besides it. “Though I do like to keep all of my eggs in my basket, I’m sure you understand. Take this as a warning. If you’re lucky they might not even be in there.”

Crowley heard a sharp snap, making his breath hitch and whole body shudder knowing the meaning. If the ram had done so with the intent he hinted, then he was sure that the image would’ve shifted, with fire bursting out of the windows of the home, and the whole building collapsing. Instead the image simply disappeared as the fire was extinguished in a puff of smoke.

“We have a deal. Do not break it, or I’ll make sure to guarantee that they’ll be out of our way. Understand?”

Crowley was shaking hard, but managed to nod his head yes hard enough to discern itself from the residual trembling.

“That’s the spirit,” Lucifer hummed as the image in his hands dissipated into a flutter of sparks and he smiled, “Well then, no reason to delay.” He leaned down just slightly and held out his hand, though it felt significantly more demanding than chivalrous. Still, Crowley extended his own shakily and let himself be led, rising to his feet and walking with his head down. He barely registered the passing surroundings until Lucifer finally stopped and his eyes scanned the floor. It was instantly clear where he was — Aries’ personal chambers.

“Let’s begin,” Lucifer hummed.

~~~~~~

Beez groaned as they lumbered up from the desk once they started to hear frantic knocking on their dorm door. They were only just getting settled and starting to relax! Well, there goes that moment of peace.

As they flung the door open, they just narrowly missed as the hand that was knocking whizzed by due to the lack of surface, with the tiefling attached looking a bit frazzled.

“Ah! Uh, hello, hi, is this uh, is this room BD-02?” she sputtered as she read the room number scribbled on the back of an envelope. Seemed she only had two bags on her, satchels that were fraying and a bit overstuffed with clothes and other necessities.

Beez blinked. “Yeah, what’s it to you?” they huffed as they leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh, perfect! I’m Raphael, I’m your roommate!” she grinned as she held out her free hand.

Beez huffed and smirked to themself. Well this would make for an interesting first year. They grabbed their hand and gave it a firm shake. “Beelzebub, but I go by Beez. Keep your stuff away from my side, and I think this will go just fine.”

The tiefling eagerly nodded and grabbed her bags, dragging them inside of the dorm and plopping them down on the free bed. A few pieces of clothes and some pens fell out onto the sheets, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Despite how their personalities partially seemed to clash with each other, the two weren’t the worst roommate pairing. Beez would sit back and act as a wall for Raphael to ramble on at all hours of the day, and in return the tiefling would help them with their class work and provide study material. The kid was smart, they gave her credit for it. Near the end of their second semester her ramblings devolved from her usual drama over classmates and the work to her revelations over the cyclical zodiac calendar.

“I have a theory that it’s wrong,” she said to them one day as they both set up their second year rooming arrangement (they decided to stick together). “Everything is slightly shifted by around 20 days, give or take. It’s not really that noticeable, it’s just that the cycles per zodiac are actually shorter and there’s this missing gap.”

Beez heard bits and pieces of this mad-house theory she kept creating. These rambles have devolved into a cork board covered in papers and notes, and late nights between homework and studying she would be going through library books and analyzing the sky from the roof of their building.

If Beez was honest with themself, they had a hunch that she was onto something. While they didn’t really notice any difficulties with connecting to the elements, their power fluctuations were just a day or two off from what the calendar said.

However, Beez didn’t see too much of the progression of this theory, as Raphael’s attention had shifted to something else.

~~~~~~

“I never liked the guy to begin with, even as a professor,” Beez huffed. “But I do know that he’s predictable and doesn’t like to stray far from his precious territory. They only had a few meeting spots — your best bet is to check there.”

“Aries was always a bit too brash,” Tracy hummed. “I couldn’t handle the heat, but my sister did — she’s still on the council. I can probably ask her as well.”

“Really any sort of input would be great right now,” Aziraphale sighed. “I believe we’re running on limited time.”

“I doubt he’d stray far from campus,” Beelzebub shrugged, “Unless he took him to the old alabaster creek where they used to skinny dip and shag.”

“Oh my, does that bring back memories! I had my fair share of forays on those banks,” Tracy giggled.

Aziraphale let out a small noise of discomfort under his breath as he turned his attention to the parchment map laid out before them, examining the terrain around the perimeter of the campus.

“Right, Beez, can you mark down all of the places on the campus that you think we’d potentially find them? Depending on how many there are, we may be able to safely split up our forces to stake out each one so that we don’t have to-“

“BITE YER TONGUE!” Sergeant shadwell suddenly shot up from his place at the table and a hefty spray of saliva left his maw with his sudden proclamation. “There be a particular devious force approachin, Mister Fell. A witch and its gaggle of black hearted soldiers of the damned are closin in!” Although this ranting was frantic and difficult to decipher, they were able to discern that his face nodded vaguely in the direction of the door.

Maggie curiously blinked at him before turning and pulling the door open. She cocked her head, “Oh! My I’m…not quite sure how you kids found us. Um. Selling biscuits for scouts are you?”

“You see kids at your door and immediately presume we’re part of some organization built on foundations of uplifting the patriarchy and promoting consumerism via the social pressure of appeasing impressionable children? Do you think kids only care to interact with their communities if there’s some junky prize in it for them for selling overpriced treats for a larger corporation who are underpaying bakers to produce them?” A voice asked. Maggie immediately flushed red and raised her hands defensively.

“T-That’s not what I- I-I- mean-“

Anathema instantly took from the table and briskly walked over to stand beside the embarrassed orc.

“Kids! Wh-how did you find us? What are you doing here? Why did you-“ Anathema immediately began to fire off questions, but just as quick as she started, she suddenly halted and quieted. She was struck with a sudden realization before straightening and frowning. “No.”

And with that she shut the door.

“Anathema!” Another voice, that was most distinctly belonging to Wensleydale, cried from behind the door. “Come on, please?”

There was another knock as Anathema huffed and backed away from the door.

“I felt the shift too,” Adam’s voice said simply. “It felt right, like it was supposed to happen. He’s going to try to reverse it.”

“We want to help Mr. Crowley!” Brian chimed in.

“Guys, please, the last thing I want is for all of you to get hurt,” Anathema heavily sighed. “We’ve got a full enough party as it is.”

There was a quiet chime, followed by the doorknob rattling and the door easily swung a bit open. Anathema blinked in surprise — she was 100% sure she had locked it. Before she could even attempt to close it again, Warlock had pushed through and opened the door the rest of the way, with Adam trailing behind him.

“I want to return the favor,” he said, his eyes a little saddened. “Do you want our help or not?”

Before Anathema could get out another denial, a hand rested on her tricep. It was steady, but still something in it gave the lightest touch of desperation. She paused and turned to see Aziraphale standing beside her. Carefully his hand left her and he instead slowly sunk lower to the floor, landing on his knees though his stature kept a strength to it. He gave one glance to Anathema then looked back at the Them, as if he were talking to both.

“Please.”

The kids seemed taken aback for a moment—even though they had a feeling of what was happening, it was very rare to see an adult be so sincere in wanting them and not only trusting but pleading for their skills. In a strange way, it was empowering.

Adam was the first to shake off the feeling and brought his best confident smile to match.

“Of course, Mr. Aziraphale. However we can,” he nodded. The cleric nodded back, his eyes full of pure appreciation. Although it was brief, the Them understood the satisfaction adventurers get from accepting a quest for someone who needed their help, and it may or may not have influenced their decision to form their own guild someday in the future. But for now they wanted to help here.

“You said you felt some kind of ‘reversal?’ What do you mean?” Nina asked

“I felt the powers shifting forward, and something is trying to pull them back again,” Adam shrugged. “It’s like fixing the time on a clock by moving the hands backwards.”

Nina’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s that-“

“Adam’s star chart was forcibly shifted forward by Lucifer so that he would be ‘blessed’,” Aziraphale explained as he rose back up to his feet and faced his teammate.

“He also just says odd things sometimes,” Pepper huffed.

“Yeah, but those odd things are usually true,” Brian shrugged.

“I denied whatever it was he tried to give me,” Adam continued to explain. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t feel it sometimes.”

“The more things these kids say the more concerned I get,” Maggie muttered under her breath.

“I don’t feel the hands of the clock grinding anymore, but it’s like I can hear another set of them straining on the other side of the room,” Adam explained. “It started two nights ago, I had a dream of a place that I hadn’t seen since…well…that whole ordeal. I was sitting in the middle of a circular room lined with red curtains and accented with these glittering jewels.”

“Diamonds,” Beelzebub chimed in.

“I mean literally decorating everything with diamonds seems like overkill but-“

“No, I mean. They were diamonds. Actually diamonds. What the kid is describing is Aries’ personal chambers, secret lair of sorts. Crowley told me about it once. He wasn’t allowed there often, it wasn’t a ‘date spot’ per se.”

Aziraphale blinked before making his way back to the table in a few quick strides. “Do you know where it is on the map?” He asked.

Beez slinked up next to the cleric and narrowed their eyes at the map, before pointing to a section in the top left corner. “Behind that gate are their residences, their personal homes. It’s a bit off campus. Being one of the ‘heads’, or conduits, his place is near the center. I’m not 100% sure, but your best bet is there.”

“I see…”

“I wouldn’t go running off now,” Nina warned as she placed a firm hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “We need to be smart about this. What if he was expecting this?”

“It feels like it’s way too obvious,” Newt frowned.

“Whether he’s concerned about us right now or not, that bastard has left us in a tough position,” Aziraphale frowned. “I agree we need a plan but…like young Adam said, there’s a clock ticking too.”

He seemed to retreat in on himself for a moment, flipping through a mental catalog of various potentially fatal plans. Having a large team to work with had pros and cons — more manpower was wonderful, but more meant more lives he had to account for, to protect.

“How good is his constitution?”

“Like a ram,” Beelzebub sighed.

“Could we pass any spells under the radar?”

“Against him? No way. He’d pick up on it instantly.”

“Well what about…brute force?”

“DUMBASS. HE IS THE CONDUIT FOR A CELESTIAL GOD BASICALLY!”

“I am trying to think rationally here!” Aziraphale spat. “I want to form a proper plan so that we all don’t get unnecessarily hurt!”

“The only way to take down a god like him is to be on his equal footing or even above that!” Beez yelled back. “None of us are even close to that level, nor less combined. We can’t fight him! We just need to get Crowley and get out!”

“But the only way to get to him is to get through Lucifer first!”

“I KNOW!”

Beelzebub groaned and angrily turned away, tugging at their hair as Aziraphale collapsed down at the chair sitting in front of the map on the table.

The room was quiet for a moment before Muriel let out an uncomfortable, small cough and sheepishly asked, “Well…do you think there’s any chance Ecliel would help?”

Aziraphale sighed and shook his head, “I love Ecliel, but my years of praise have also come with acceptance that she doesn’t step in.”

“Pssh. Could’ve fooled me,” Beelzebub grumbled.

“Huh?” Muriel blinked.

“I mean, a few weeks ago the supposed ‘Ecliel’ and her mortal army was trying to overthrow the world. Don’t tell me you forgot. Anyway that move didn’t exactly scream ‘subtle’,” Beelzebub sniffed.

“Like we’ve already said! That wasn’t Ecliel, it was a god posing to be her! She would never actually want to hurt people!” Muriel huffed.

“…but what if she did,” Aziraphale said.

“Huh? What-“

“None of us are gods, but I mean, one of us kind of-sort of was one just a few weeks ago,” Aziraphale pointed out.

“Wh-Aziraphale, no,” Anathema frowned. “That was a god using you as a vessel, you don’t have that sort of power anymore. And even if you tried to tap into something like that, I don’t think your body will be able to handle it.”

“Yes, I know,” Aziraphale sighed. “I was trapped underneath a god’s curse.”

“You don’t need to give us a recap of the past month,” Nina frowned. “What are you implying here?”

“You were all able to chip away at him, yes?” Aziraphale prompted. “But the only way to break a god’s curse is to have equal or higher power.”

“Or to use the ‘power of love’ apparently in yours and Crowley's case,” Nina said with all her might being used to suppress an eye roll.

“Actually…no power of love I’m afraid,” Aziraphale said, “Though I’m sure that’s what pushed him to tap into it.”

It took a moment for the realization to settle in. One by one each person's face seemed to react to a different emotion: confusion, disbelief, and shock to name a few.

“So…Mr. Crowley…” Newt trailed off.

“He broke my halos all by himself,” Aziraphale confirmed, “among other things. During my time in the sort of purgatory host’s encounter while possessed, he did…access me, so to say.”

“Aziraphale there are kids around,” Anathema frowned.

“Not like-! Good heavens, no, not like that!” he huffed. “Even in that dark and strange void, whenever I would look up I was met with the night sky. Constellations and zodiacs like Scorpio, Sagittarius, and Aquila would blink at me. But only one, well two I guess, ever moved,” he explained. “Ophiuchus came close to me once, when I first entered, and comforted my confused spirit. Serpens had detached from its pairing and stayed with me nearly the whole time to keep my spirit grounded, only leaving once it was called to action, I believe. I prayed to those stars — even when I couldn’t remember I trusted and reached out to them.”

Sometimes, when he let his mind wander, Aziraphale still felt the presence of Serpens wrapped around him, as if it was holding him close in a protective manner. Much like how Crowley’s hugs felt, or how he’d be completely wrapped by him after they had a rough night’s sleep.

A look of realization dawned on Beelzebub’s face. “Oh…oh my gods,” they muttered. “That’s what he was going to present.”

“Pardon?” Aziraphale blinked.

“At the start of every moon cycle, we held a symposium,” Beez explained. “Crowley was researching something for nearly a year, I half paid attention to all of his ramblings about it because frankly he always sounded a bit nuts whenever he opened his mouth. But I remember he was excited to get a spot to talk to the council at the symposium about it, Lucifer helped arrange it. But the week before, his tune changed and a challenge was declared for a formal fight.”

The dark elf sighed as they scratched the back of their neck, trying to properly gather their memories. This even happened decades ago, and had nearly become a myth and a story that would spread amongst the students and was kept like a dark secret between the faculty on campus. Very few remembered or would admit the truth anymore.

“They fought, and the entire wing of the school was lost in the fire, and Crowley ran away. I suppose you all know the rest from here,” Beelzebub said before glancing vaguely upwards, “Still though…if all this is true, then Crowley is literally riding the line between becoming a full fledged zodiac…that imbecile becoming a literal God of sorts.”

“But…he’s not a god,” Newt pointed out, “Why didn’t it work back when he discovered it?”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of failing,” Aziraphale said as he tapped his chin, “More…resisting. Holding it back. Keeping it at bay,”

“Like he helped me do,” Adam added.

“Can’t our lives ever be normal?” Nina heavily sighed in disbelief.

“If I’m understanding correctly,” Maggie started, “does that mean Mr. Crowley is the one who is going to have to fight?”

“But wouldn’t he have done that already?” Muriel frowned.

“Not necessarily,” Aziraphale sighed, “From what I’ve gathered, this Lucifer fellow has quite the history with Crowley. Even after so much time there may be residual trauma responses and fears associated with him.”

He looked over to Muriel and smiled softly, “Think about it, do you think you could easily defeat one of the clergymen back at our old parish?”

Muriel bit the inside of their cheek nervously. Of course they had turned their back on the church as an establishment while still praising the same gospel, but their history and upbringing still remained a strange dynamic. Even though they knew they were strong, just imagining that change in the power dynamic was strange.

“Point taken,” they frowned, “So he’s the only one who can fight…but he won’t…”

“We have to help him fight and give him that push to finish what he started,” Aziraphale hummed. “Which means we have to find him, and based on what we know, it’s at those secret chambers.”

“These past few weeks are starting to make a lot more sense now,” Nina muttered. “I thought he was just being weird because he was acting like a mother hen over you and wasn’t getting any sleep or a proper break.”

At her words, Aziraphale’s features softened sadly and wistfully. Although he was aware Crowley had been fussing over him during his recovery, he truly wasn’t cognizant for the full extent of it. He wanted desperately to feel better, to show his husband that all of his care had been effective and healed him fully. And most of all, he wanted to say thank you.

And so, while it may have seemed slightly counterintuitive, Aziraphale made a pledge to himself then and there that he would show his appreciation and the result of Crowley’s hard work, even if it was the last thing he did. And if he wasn’t leaving with his husband, he wouldn’t leave at all, regardless of what any prophecy said.

“Everyone,” he started, “thank you all for everything. I really do appreciate your help. This situation is reaching its fever pitch though, so I want to make this clear now; if you want to back out, now is the time to do it. There is no shame or weakness, it’s simply a matter of personal protection and safety. I don’t want to risk others getting needlessly hurt on my watch. So, take a moment, really think. If you’d really be willing to help then…gather around the table.”

With that, Aziraphale gazed around the room and smiled. Afterall, even though he had no intention of dying, he was aware of the possibility and made sure for the sake of those that would leave that their last image of him would be positive. He gave one final nod before ducking into the next room to grab a few more supplies. Just as he bent down for the first bundle, he heard the sounds of bustling and moving in the other room, doors opening and closing. His breath caught in a dry patch of sadness stationed in his throat, though he eventually breathed out with the satisfaction that although people were leaving, they would be safe.

He gathered up the rest of what he planned on taking and walked out, ready to take in any potential remaining manpower and make a plan. However, he was surprised to see nearly everyone still gathered. The door on the far side of the room swung open to reveal the kids having gone to retrieve more chairs before pushing them up to accommodate.

“…you’re all…are you sure you want to stay?” He asked in disbelief.

“We’ve taken down a god once, what’s one more,” Nina shrugged smugly.

“Exactly! Why would we back down now? Especially when Mr. Crowley is in danger?” Maggie smiled

Aziraphale felt warm as he felt the love emanating from his teammates and their friends. Oh, if only who could see how many truly did care.

“Thank you, really,” he hummed as he approached the table. “We’re running on limited time here, so we need to plan a quick way over there, okay?”

~~~~~~

“Oi, Raph,” Beez huffed as they dropped a pile of mail on their roommate’s desk. “You’ve been forgetting to pick up your mail for the past week.”

“Uh huh,” Raphael nodded as she continued to scribble in her notebook and paging through calendars and sheets of paper.

“Have you even left for class at all? I mean, you’re usually here when I get back from my clubs and I wake up early, but, still.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it,” Raphael waved off.

Beez groaned in annoyance and walked off to leave their roommate. They decided to just leave her to her nonsense and instead focus on their studying for the night.

Late in the evening, Raphael heavily sighed and leaned back in her chair, stretching out the knots in her neck and back from sitting still for multiple hours. The moonlight was gently shimmering through the window over her bed, and the silence was occasionally cut by the odd snore from the elf. Her eyes drifted over to the pile of mail the dark elf had dropped haphazardly. Biting her lip, she picked up the envelopes and rifled through them.

Celestial observer subscription…letter from her mother…random spam…

She stopped at a slightly larger envelope — it had a bit of a heft to it, and was carefully sealed with wax. Gold was lightly dusted on the design in the seal, making the twin horns shimmer under her lamp light. There was no return address, and just simply had her name and dorm number written on the back.

Humming to herself, Raphael lightly tossed the other letters back on her desk and leaned back in her chair, turning the envelope around in her hands. She grinned to herself.

“Finally.”

Although all projects were supposed to be debuted at the symposium, Raphael of course wanted to give a pre-release demonstration to their mentor. If what she discovered was correct, this could change their understanding of zodiacs altogether. Though given her position, she thought it incredibly sweet and ironically fitting that the hidden Ophiuchus was nestled into Aries, companion to the ram as she was to Lucifer.

She popped open the letter excitedly and only needed to read the words “I accept” before she began to pack her bag in a flurry that caused Beelzebub to stir, though luckily not wake. Multiple notebooks, charts, scrap papers with spontaneous notes, and more were stuffed into her carrier bag before she quietly slipped out of the dorm room and headed to the meeting point — the observatory.

Raphael wasted no time pasting up her research materials before waiting nervously, only finding slight comfort each time she tilted her head skyward and reaffirmed her discovery by tracing the new constellation with her gaze.

The sound of the heavy door swinging open snapped her out of her mild panic and she instead stood straight and proud.

“Luci, thank you for coming. I know you’re busy right now with-“

“Never too busy for you, darling,” he purred as he glided over and took her arm. Carefully he began kissing up its length, though Raphael just blushed and gently pulled away.

“I-I’d like to show you my findings. Could you sit over there in that chair please?” She asked.

“Mmmm,” Lucifer hummed as he circled around her. “Everything in time, lamb. I’ve had a long day, I need to refill,” he reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to his body.

“L-Lucifer, please-“ Raphael whined, “After, okay? This won’t take long, I promise. We can do…that after.”

Lucifer kept his steely gaze as he tried to keep control over the situation, but Raphael’s pouting made him sigh and relent.

“Okay, okay, fine. I know you’ve been working very hard on this. Go ahead and wow me,” he grinned. He gently kissed the top of her forehead before pulling away and taking a seat in a chair she had set up earlier.

Raphael beamed and immediately ran over to her display of maps. Her heart was pounding with adrenaline and nervousness.

“O-okay! Before I get started, I want you to look up — what do you see up there?”

“Lamb, you know-“

“Humor me, please?” she pleaded as she batted her eyelashes. Lucifer huffed out a laugh and glanced up.

“Well, I see Libra, Scorpius, and Sagittarius,” he said simply.

“Ah, yes! Of course!” She grinned. “Three of the twelve major signs and integral parts of our calendar. They represent the end of the year, as the sun passes through when the nights are their shortest. However, I want you to look more closely at what’s nestled in between them.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and scanned the sky. There were a few smaller constellations there, such as Aquila, Scutum, and Sagitta. And just slightly above Scorpius was the body of Serpens and the man who tamed it.

“Just some minor groups,” he shrugged.

“Yes! There’s so many brothers and sisters being protected by those on the ecliptic,” Raphael continued as she approached her papers, flipping them to show the path of the sun with a lot of modifying lines surrounding it, as well as a note sheet covered in math. “I have talked with my classmates a lot, and we have all shared a mutual frustration that our fluctuation cycle seems to be around 16-20 days off its proper rotation. I have been tracking mine ever since I have been aware of it, and I have consistently reached my peak in the winter earlier than I should be. We generally understand the ecliptic to look like this-“ she said as she pointed to the diagram, “-but after intensive observations and math, it turns out our understanding is off by a few degrees!”

She felt a burst of manic energy as she was reaching the exciting part. Lucifer had gone silent and was leaning forward in his chair, watching her closely. Grinning to herself, she flipped the papers again to show a larger diagram of the zodiac circle paired with the ecliptic — however, a new symbol was placed between Scorpius and Sagittarius.

“We understand that the sun is what causes these power fluctuations, and with those who are fire inclined experiencing a slightly different cycle, and our current ecliptic line being off by a few degrees, what does that mean? Well, -“ she slapped her hand against the sheet right next to the new symbol, “- what if I was to tell you that we have had 13 leads all along!”

Between her manic explanation and frantic movements between diagrams, Raphael only then realized that she was out of breath; panting and flushed red in the cheeks. In fact, her entire form numbed and tingled, no doubt from the burst of adrenaline. However, it would only take one more breath to finish, and so she gulped a large breath of air and proudly said, “Lucifer, I-“

“No.”

Her exhale retreated back into her throat suddenly. Lucifer’s voice was strange now, it didn’t seem to have come from his mouth but rather reverberated around from every point of his aura encompassing them both. She was startled and rattled, only able to move her mouth wordlessly as the feeling wore off.

“B-But…” she mumbled as she gestured vaguely to a star chart, “it’s here-“

She didn’t see him move and instead only first registered his action by the harsh ripping and shredding of her hard work. The fractured remnants of the past year of her life fluttered to the floor like harmless snow at Lucifer’s feet as he stared at the empty board now nearly devoid of anything that once resembled paper.

“Forget this. You’re entirely wrong, lamb. You foolish little thing,” he seethed as he turned to her. She’d hardly even registered the situation yet, but tears were inevitable once her sorrow caught up to her shock. “There are 12 zodiac signs, that’s all. And I am one of them, don’t ever forget your place.”

With that, Lucifer turned back towards the doorway and began to leave, swaying across the floor rhythmically and gracefully as if nothing had happened. And all at once he was using his own lips to speak again with a much more casual tone, “It’s a good thing you practiced that with me, dear. You would’ve made a fool of yourself if you’d’ve presented that at the symposium. See if you can throw together a real project in the next week, or else drop out, why don’t you?”

He didn’t look at her, only instead hearing the pitiful, soft “plop” as her knees weakened and she dropped to the floor. Raphael reached out to the pile of her research, torn and tarnished, and scooped up a few stray strands. Before she could contemplate fixing it, the pile ignited along with the strips in her hands, scorching her flesh as she scrambled back.

“Forget it,” Lucifer scolded again, giving particular emphasis to the “t’s” of the phrase, “If you can’t, I will make you forget.”

He still didn’t look at her, but all he heard was her quiet sniffles and her trembling breath. After no more sounds, he sighed contently and stepped forward to continue out the door.

However, Raphael wasn’t content.

Her loyalty had been to Lucifer surely, but she couldn’t deny her own personal energy and effort invested in this project. This was big, her magnum opus, and now it was ash. The disrespect, the hard work wasted, the belittling and suffering, it all crashed down at once. With nothing left to lose, she didn’t care about scolding or punishment. She was furious, and came to one final decision that she didn’t know would change her life forever. She shot back up to her feet and wiped the tears from her eyes. With a growl she turned and faced Lucifer as he reached the door to the exit.

“I challenge you to a duel by fire!” she spat, her words feeling like venom on her tongue. “I’ll prove to you that I’m right! You, me, and only the stars to back us up!”

Lucifer froze, his hands on the door handle. In an instant, the metal was crushed and bent under his grip.

“You’re smarter than this, lamb,” he said through clenched teeth. “Think about what you’re asking. I am the conduit for your celestial power, child. You really think biting the hand that feeds you will solve your disillusioned little temper tantrum?”

“I’ve already called the duel. You know the rules, name a time,” she hissed.

“I could put you in your place right now-“

“The rules,” Raphael snapped, enunciating the words harshly, “call for a battle past dusk.”

“You really won’t let this go,” he groaned. “Fine. You have until dusk tonight to realize you’re challenging the arms dealer to a shootout and to call this off.”

“I’ll see you on the stage,” Raphael said plainly as she kept a steely gaze on the ram. The other man didn’t say another word, instead glaring daggers straight into her, before slipping out of the observatory and slamming the door behind him.

It was like she deflated, how quickly Raphael released the breath she didn’t know she was holding and collapsed to the ground on her knees again. She let herself fall back the rest of the way, her gaze turning up towards the stars once again. The constellations of Ophiucus and Serpens seemed to shine just a bit brighter as she acknowledged their presence.

Even if he happens to prevent the physical zodiac of Aries to let her into its shared power, she still felt confident at her chances. He has no control over that in which she could claim for herself.

If Raphael was just a little bit less angry or upset, her unhealthily developed reliance and subservience to Lucifer may have kicked in and triggered her learned response; suck it up. But not now, not when something she was so passionate about was dashed before her eyes. She had no regard for any potential ramifications for her actions, only the immediate road ahead. With fury she stomped back to her dorm room, threw open the door, and pulled her spellbooks and studying materials off of her shelf. With a snap of her fingers they set themselves up on her desk perfectly for optimal studying and plopped down with a hearty sigh. The loud and emotional entrance had caused her roommate to stir and wake up, glancing over at the commotion.

Now, Beelzebub normally didn’t care of course, but they were still nosy. And the fact that Raphael came in all huffy and obviously emotional while NOT ranting and tea-spilling was beyond tempting. Rarely would they ask for Raphael to speak because it was hard enough to get her to stop, but they couldn’t resist.

“What crawled up your butt?” Beelzebub asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Raphael only grunted and tapped her foot furiously a few times before huffing, “You said you wanted my Madame Rosaria ceramax crystal ball if I died, yeah? If there’s anything else you want me to add to the will for you, let me know.”

Beelzebub sat up a little in alarm. Usually they were the one who made jokes in that vain, but they tried to keep their surprise a little subdued. It was far too early to be considering all of this, as the night could still be seen through the windows. “Your combat boots,” they said simply.

“Got it,” the tiefling nodded as she pulled over her notebook and started writing and rifling through other papers.

Now that they were fully awake, Beelzebub slowly started to go through the motions of their morning routine as Raphael worked at her desk, her whole body rigid. The air surrounding her was filled with negative and angry energy.

This energy did not waver as the sun started to rise and Beelzebub grabbed their stuff to head to class. Standing near the doorway, they bit their lip and looked over at their roommate.

“…did something happen?”

“A duel was called, me and Lucifer. Dusk, galley A,” Raphael grumbled.

Beelzebub stiffened and blinked, replayed the sentence in their head, and blinked again.

“Why the- why would he challenge you to a duel?!” Beelzebub asked in an uncharacteristic moment of dropping their cool demeanor from the stark shock.

“He didn’t,” Raphael answered simply, “I did.”

“Do you have a death wish?!” Beelzebub gasped. Raphael still seemed so nonchalant, focused on her materials and turned away. She hardly even acknowledged her roommate when they’d hopped out of bed when the sun rose and went through the motions of their routine, and now didn’t even notice as they approached and bent down beside the desk, “Seriously, what’s gotten into you Raph?”

“He burned my research.”

Raphael’s eyes flicked around as she glanced at the papers strewn across the desk. Many of them were now covered in his frantic manic scribbles that could barely be classified as writing.

“That work was my soul,” she said simply. “Everything that I am, written in clean ink. I laid it bare to him with hope for approval, and he snatched it and burnt it right in front of me. I’m loyal to him, but I also am loyal to myself, and I do not let myself get burned.”

Beelzebub blinked as they watched Raphael deflate a little, a frown etched on her face as she refused to make eye contact with them.

“You’re one of his kin,” the dark elf reminded. “He can block you out. He can get the others to block you out too.”

“I’m not concerned about that,” Raphael sighed. “I have a plan. I just…”

Finally, it seemed that her walls were finally starting to crumble as her reserve fell apart and emotions flooded in. She sniffed and bowed her head.

“I’m going to m-miss you…” she sputtered. “I’m going to miss all of this. I…” She paused as she shivered, pulling up a hand to rub at her eye. “I can’t stay. I-if I live, no matter the results, I can’t stay.”

Beelzebub was entirely unequipped to deal with feelings, both their own but especially the emotions of a spastic roommate. Not only that, but they’d never seen Raphael like this, this upset and this devastated. But even all emotional components aside, from a completely logical position this situation was hopeless.

Awkwardly Beelzebub extended their hand and laid their palm gently on Raphael’s back. Even through her breakdown, the sudden physical touch from Beelzebub was enough of a surprise that her breath hitched for a moment before devolving into a frustrated mix of sobs and gasps.

There were really no words that could help, no advice or encouragement that wouldn’t be pointedly false. Instead Beelzebub just tried to mutter reassurances of “you’ll be okay” without any actual basis for the sentiment. Raphael did what a person in her situation was supposed to do; cry. And she continued to cry, even as the sobs died to whimpers, but she didn’t run or even entertain the thought of going back on her challenge or backing down.

Once it seemed she had calmed down enough that Beez wasn’t incredibly concerned for her, the elf awkwardly patted the top of her head.

“I have to head to class, but look, I’ll be frank. I am excited to watch you beat his ass,” they grinned. “It’s a long time coming, honestly. You better give it your best shot, because I’ll be watching and if you don’t, I’ll make fun of you for it.”

Their comment made the tiefling emit a snort and grin, which satisfied Beelzebub enough to finally slip out of the room.

That was the last thing they ever said to each other, and for the longest time they’d assumed that was the last thing they’d ever get to say.

Somehow gossip spread. While Beelzebub was already distracted by their own concern for Raphael, the constant whispering from classmates who were speaking about the duel certainly wasn’t helping. The class seemed to stretch on forever, but once the bell rang and the students let out, it suddenly changed to feeling all too short.

The orange sun just barely peaked over the horizon, and many students, including Beelzebub, went right to the battlefield. They’d almost hoped to see the match called off or Raphael having forfeited, but no luck. They pushed their way to the front of the crowd only to see the two figures standing on opposite sides of the dueling grounds.

“Raphael. This isn’t funny anymore. Give up, now.”

The disgruntled thought echoed with a forceful intrusion into Raphael’s mind. She winced in annoyance as the sound grated her ears. Shifting her feet, Raphael sturdied her stance as she glared at the man.

“No,” she sent back through the link with as much force as she could muster. “This isn’t a game, especially not to me. If you’re so afraid, you can back down.”

The reaction from the ram was immediate as his anger flared up in annoyance, the emotions seeping into the aura surrounding the field.

“Calling for a battle against your conduit? A bold choice. A stupid choice,” he spat out loud, his voice putting strong emphasis on the word stupid, making the descriptor cut through the air like a dagger.

Inside her mouth, Raphael’s teeth ground together. Her fist clenched so hard it almost hurt the skin that was stretched white around her knuckles and stung the areas of skin where her nails dug into her palm.

“Evidently I’ve made a lot of stupid choices while I’ve been here,” she growled lowly. A few of the spectating students let out quiet gasps. Afterall, even though there was much more to her, Raphael was mainly known as Lucifer’s protege. Seeing her challenge him was shocking enough, but now outwardly mocking and defying? That was a spectacle.

Lucifer fumed. The grass at his feet began to singe and smoke. With a swift and fluid motion, he tore off his usual robes, leaving only a much lighter set of still quite elegant fabrics covering his form. It looked to be some sort of beautiful, ornate uniform, the shimmering, slightly sheer fabric covering him in light reds, oranges, and yellows. “If I decide to be kind and allow you to live, you will be groveling at my feet tonight. Even if I sever your spine and leave you paralyzed, you will remain to kiss my boots to repent for this idiocy, lamb.”

Raphael rolled her head and shoulders, popping out a few cricks in an attempt to prepare herself. Outwardly, she looked disinterested in his rage — she looked calm and prepared. On the inside, however, she was full of panic as she tried to stretch her essence and grab onto what she needed. Before the man even spoke, she felt that he had blocked her out from her main celestial source, and also seemed to have convinced the other heads to do the same as well to prevent her from accessing any backups.

“You’re saying that as if you’re confident you’re going to win,” she hummed as she looked at her nails in an attempt to keep the outward persona going.

Lucifer barked out a laugh. “Like you’re going to be able to do anything? Ha! Like I’d let you!”

Raphael’s eye twitched in annoyance. With one last desperate burst, she felt a click within her soul.

Bingo.

She smirked as she felt a sense of pride.

“Oh really?”

Fully turning to face him, Raphael held her head up high and smiled at him. Her eyes had this wild and manic look to them.

“When all others have abandoned me, I can still prove my bond with the sky,” she said as she released her stiffness and instead took a deep breath. Her eyelids shut gently and her fingers extended skyward.

All at once she felt a sensation that had been but a faint memory, but now returned renewed and reinvigorated. It was the same connection and tingling she felt as a child on her rooftop when the stars reached back to her outstretched hands. Raphael smiled, and a solitary tear slipped down her cheek.

Finally, she finished her presentation.

“Lucifer, I’d like to introduce you to the 13th zodiac, Ophiuchus.”

Over the many months studying the constellations, Raphael had developed a sort of kinship with it, though it was purely built from fascination and a pseudo-mutual regard that stemmed from her energy investment. But once the words left her lips an entirely different bonding sensation struck her like a 6 foot steel bolt driven directly through her body.

She faltered for a moment as the energy seemed to spread to extend to every part of her body, overwhelming her senses with a light coating of stardust. Through the fog that seemed to cover her thoughts, with what she could muster she snapped to attention, holding back the excess like a dam so she could keep her focus.

This new and unfamiliar energy seemed to wave off of her and crackle in the air, causing the bystanders to shiver and step back, and for Lucifer’s eyebrow to twitch as he growled. He was feeling a shift in the total power and shared presence of the bearers push against his soul, demanding for more room so it could be let in. It had squeezed its way through his reserve like a snake through a hole in the wall.

Not wanting to allow her a moment longer to settle, Lucifer was the first to launch an attack directly at her.

She reacted swiftly as her hand swung upwards. Instead of dodging, the power concentrated into her palm, and with one swift move she batted the attack off course.

Jaws dropped in the crowd. Some students even began to cheer or rave without thinking about how it may have come off as disrespectful to their head master. Still though, they were held suspended in awe as Raphael pulled her elbows in, grunted, and pushed out a 10 foot flood of flames.

Lucifer was frozen in shock for just a few seconds — a few seconds too many as some of the flames licked against his cheek and caused his skin to prickle. But he quickly regained control and spun his arms in a wide half-circle, gaining control of the flames and redirecting them around himself.

“All this time!” Raphael yelled. “All this time you had a kin you refused to acknowledge! We’ve been wrong all along!”

She stomped her foot into the dirt and dragged it, kicking up dirt. The particles began to pop and burn, as a cloud of smoke enveloped them, the embers burning so white they nearly looked like snow.

The crowd frenzied, struggling and clamoring over each other to try and see through the smoke and haze. However they were only able to catch the aftermath, it seemed, terribly scorched patches of lawn or a stray spray of molten sparks.

The two continued their furious clash, and although Raphael was aware of fatigue that her body should naturally feel from fighting, a new strength seemed to be sprouting and spreading like heat in her veins.

Back to back to back, Raphael dodged and blocked an onslaught of flames. The smallest flicker in her periphery and she’d spin, brace, and power through. She was keeping ahead of attacks at first when at once she saw just the slightest movement of yellow and maneuvered to deflect it. Just as her palm made contact though, she realized what the small bead of light truly was: a delayed blast fireball.

The spec erupted beautifully and violently, petals of flame blossoming outward in a burning peony. All Raphael could do was brace and try to protect herself as she was overtaken violently and thrown to the ground.

Her back and head slammed violently against the hard dirt, and for a moment her weakness caught up to her. Her world spun. She stared upwards through the swirling smoke and embers to the distant sky shining down on her, though she was struggling to see it then as her eyes began to water and burn. It must’ve been from the soot in her eyes, right?

With significant strain and shaking she raised her hand over her face. It certainly felt wrong, and after making contact with that last attack she frankly wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d been left with no hand at all. However, through her blurry vision she was able to make out her hand and fingers, though they certainly seemed worse for wear—singed black entirely. Probably burnt to a crisp.

All she could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears and her desperate heavy pants as she tried to breathe through the smoke. Attempting to move her fingers felt strange and foreign, as if she was wearing thick gloves that were simultaneously caked in dry mud, the skin crackling and scraping against each other with the movement.

The world was blurry, the colors around shifting — her senses were incredibly overwhelmed, making it difficult to think and focus. There was a choir, screaming and singing, begging, but all she wanted was to shut them out and sleep.

Why was she here? She tried to gain control of her thoughts and memories as other presences kept pushing against her mind.

A blast of fire to her left, bringing her a brief moment of clarity as she desperately scrambled to her feet to run off, stumbling as she struggled with her balance. Her mouth felt dry and abnormal, as if her teeth were slightly too big and she couldn’t make them fit.

The large angry presence that she could just barely sense was still, seemingly standing and watching as she desperately tried to make sense of everything around her.

Everything grew to a fever pitch, abnormally bright and loud and alarming. Her body felt hotter and heavier, while her lungs felt smaller and smaller with each breath. A rush of berating stimuli blended with the sudden internal and overwhelming sensation was enough to make her feel sick. In a panicked flurry of fear and pain, she made a last ditch attempt to finish the duel.

With a piercing screech, Raphael became an inferno. Scorching winds licked by a golden flame rushed upwards and threw students to the floor. At the center of amber and auburn she burned like a wick. With a flourish of her hands she cast out a magical spray of grease towards her shadowed opponent, creating long sprays and flecks of hot oil spreading out from her flame.

She couldn’t tell if the attack made contact, but a sudden blast of anger and pain emanating from the shadow told her more than enough. There were roars from the anger and from the flames surrounding her, screaming and singing, their indecipherable words filled with celestial energy.

Her arms feeling heavy, she covered her ears and blocked out all contact, before she sharply turned and blindly started to run in the direction her soul told her to follow. She focused all of the energy she had left on the run, to her legs, to the will to just keep moving as flames danced around her ankles and trailed behind her like sparks.

‘I don’t think you won,’ the wind seemed to whisper in her mind. ‘This is more like…an interlude.’

Time passing wasn’t something she actively processed. Finally, everything gave out as she collapsed against a tree and fell into soft dewy grass that tickled her skin and cooled her burns.

Where to now?

~~~~~~

“You know, if Crowley really is a zodiac or a pseudo-zodiac, or like a conduit or whatever, I bet the inferno came from him,” Beelzebub mused to themself.

“Huh?” Newt asked.

“Well for years the story was that Lucifer killed Raph-Oop, I mean, Crowley with that final blast of fire during the battle. It wasn’t until Lucifer himself told me in private that he wasn’t dead that I even knew he escaped the blaze. But now…I’m wondering if the blaze came from him. It was incredibly powerful, yet uncontrollable. That’s why the old battle arena and surrounding school buildings burned. See?”

Beelzebub pointed forward from their perched hiding spot. Newt traced their direction to a more secluded spot on the school campus that looked like nothing more than singed ruins. It was hidden behind the current buildings, though they could see it well enough from their hiding spot from the perimeter of the campus.

“Lucifer always took credit for that attack. But it just never felt like him, I guess,” they shrugged.

“Crowley can do it again. And even better this time, I bet,” Aziraphale huffed as his eyes scanned the old forgotten battleground sadly, “Where’s Lucifer’s sanctum then?”

“Just over that hill,” Beelzebub said simply as they tilted their head to the right. “Just a bit off of the main campus you can find the housing of all of the zodiac conduits. They’re placed in calendar order, so if I remember correctly Aries should be in the middle. Honestly, with how hoitytoity they are, who’s place is whose will be pretty obvious.”

“Do we just…break in or…” Maggie said hesitantly. “Like what kind of defenses are we going to be going up against?”

“As much as we’re preparing for a large battle, this is going to be a stalling match for most of you,” Aziraphale said as he looked back towards the gathered group, “It’s best to avoid a conflict for as long as we can, so we need to be inconspicuous. What is more inconspicuous at a school than children? Gifted ones at that,” Aziraphale smiled as he looked back at the Them. His gaze stalled on Adam with that same pleading but confident look, “Adam, I’ll need you to try to cast a spell. It’s a difficult spell, frankly. But I know you can do it. Are you willing to try?”

“Willing and determined,” Adam smiled. Aziraphale returned his grin before pulling out a small letter from his bag — a familiar letter with the infamous rams horn wax seal. Aziraphale blew on his middle finger, index, and thumb before holding the letter back together and touching the seal. All at once it seemed to reform, once again intact.

“If you show an invite with his formal insignia, you should be able to get to Lucifer’s house,” Aziraphale winked.

Adam gave a hearty nod and went to take the paper, though Aziraphale drew it back. “Wait, before we do this, I really need to ask, are you comfortable with this Adam? I know you want to help, but Lucifer personally hurt you. I don’t want to put you in a situation with him where you feel uncomfortable or scared or unsafe.”

“Well…” Adam hesitated for a moment as he thought about it. The thoughts turned in his head, before making eye contact with Aziraphale and beamed. “If I’m honest, I never really physically met the guy. Sure, he kinda messed with me, but I didn’t let him win, right? And I won’t let him win again! I’ve got my friends with me, I can out smart him. Right?”

Aziraphale smiled. While, sure, he could see some nervousness through Adam’s posture, clearly there was some true confidence in his faith. From his time tutoring him, Aziraphale knew that Adam was truly talented at magic and was able to pull off some powerful spells if he put his mind to it, or combined his effort with his friends.

Aziraphale regarded him proudly and gave Adam a quick supportive pat on the shoulder before turning to the rest of the kids. “This role should keep you all out of harm's way as much as possible, but it’s still incredibly important. Young Warlock, do you think you could conjure a few uniforms for you and your friends to blend in?”

Warlock perked up automatically before quickly remembering he was a preteen and wanted to appear cool. “Psssh. Without breaking a sweat,” he hummed smugly. Warlock began to stretch out partially; twisting his torso on a hip pivot to crack his back, stretching his arms and bending his fingers. It was completely unnecessary in physical terms, but very vital to the novice magician still. With one last cracking of his neck and a flourish, the Them’s clothes transformed to match the zodiac school’s uniform, complete with a matching vest for Dog with the school’s logo embroidered on.

While the imitation uniforms were spot on, there was one small issue.

“If you don’t take me out of this skirt and give me the pants right now I’m going to sock you,” Pepper frowned.

“I’d have to use another spell slot thoughhh,” Warlock whined.

“One less spell slot or a broken nose. Your choice,” she said. With a huff, Warlock cast the spell again, with much less grandeur and showmanship this time, and Pepper was given the same pants as the other kids.

“Thank you,” she said in a voice that was not grateful, but satisfied at least.

Beelzebub smirked at the interaction. They’d had a similar one when first attending the school. The only difference was that their opponent did not relent before the nose breaking and Beelzebub did get a two weeks of required service assigned to repent for said breaking of the other person’s nose. Still though, they were content cleaning classrooms and taking out garbage while wearing their trousers.

“You all look wonderful,” Aziraphale hummed. “You can all go ahead, scope out the area and see if you can get in. The rest of us will not be far behind.”

“Make sure to use Send Messages once you guys have an idea on where the chambers are,” Anathema reminded. “And to let us know that you’re safe. Okay?”

The Them curtly nodded in quiet understanding. With a grin, Adam encouraged Dog to start running down the hill towards the campus, allowing the others an excuse to excitedly follow.

“I suppose that means we should start splitting up into teams, right?” Maggie guessed. “You…you do have some form of a plan past this, yeah?”

“Of course, dear girl,” Aziraphale nodded as he looked to Beelzebub, “We’ll be splitting our forces. Beelzebub will be taking Tracy, Shadwell, and Maggie. We’ll need you all to be hubs of distraction — cause scenes and make trouble to limit the amount of available forces to interfere with the central attack. As for the rest of us, we’ll be tucked into a Demiplane and waiting for Adam to infiltrate Lucifer’s sanctum. Once he reopens the plane, Muriel, Nina, Anathema, and I will try to rescue Crowley. And Newt, we need your abilities to protect the kids, especially Adam after he casts the spell — it may be especially draining for him. Keep them safe.”

“This should help,” Anathema hummed as she snapped, instantly changing Newt’s clothes to resemble the faculty so that he would blend in a bit easier.

“Just make sure to keep yourself low and under the radar,” Aziraphale reminded. “Watch for any signals.”

“Do not try to fight,” Beelzebub stated. “Student magic is a bit wild and untamed, and the faculty are incredibly well trained. Got it?”

“Understood,” the others nodded.

“Right then, thank you all again for this. No time to doddle,” Aziraphale sighed as he straightened and stood. He turned to the space beside him bare of obstructions and took a long, deep breath before holding out his hands. Within his mind, tendrils began to twist and dance out to the ether, until snapping together a telekinetic connection with Adam that went one step deeper from communicating to entirely sharing sensations.

“Adam…watch closely now, this is the spell I’ll need you to replicate when you reach Lucifer’s domain,” Aziraphale thought. The feeling of his outstretched palms radiated and reached Adam like an afterimage. The tips of Aziraphale’s fingers began to glow a brilliant white, and for a moment it almost appeared like a bright band flickered in front of his face too before disappearing. An unseen wind blew through, whipping up the leaves and clothing of everyone nearby. Out from the underside of Aziraphale’s soles, a shadowy dancing of dark fog slipped through and rolled in, concentrating in front of him before the wind funneled it upwards into a taller and rectangular silhouette. As the smog concentrated, Aziraphale reached out with his illuminated hands and clutched his hand around a bare area in front of the door, only when he did, a golden doorknob that wasn’t there prior was present and allowed him to actually open the door.

On the other side was a small room, decorated cobblestone flooring and wooden walls. It was admittedly cozy, though the small size and lack of any other windows or doors was off putting.

“Memorize this Adam. It should be easy for you to remember this,” Aziraphale hummed.

“…it looks just like home,” he heard Adam’s voice meekly answer with a hint of joy and giddiness. The spell had allowed Aziraphale to make the plan resemble what he desired, within the bounds of physics and the constraints of only floor to ceiling aesthetics, but because Adam would need to effectively remember the characteristics of someone else’s Demiplane to connect to it, he to thought it clever to make it naturally resemble somewhere familiar for the young boy.

“Of course,” Aziraphale hummed. “When you need to escape, just think of home, okay? We’ll be waiting there for you.”

“Thank you Mr. Fell,” Adam answered earnestly. “We should be approaching the building soon. Me or Warlock will update you as soon as we learn anything.”

“Thank you, boys,” Aziraphale nodded before taking another long breath and finishing his work. The frame of the door pulsed and as he rubbed his fingers down the smooth frame. It was stable, it would definitely hold them safely. He was more worried about leaving.

“Well then, all that’s left to do is finish this,” he sighed before turning back to the doorway. However, as his gaze lingered on it, he stood still for an uncomfortably prolonged period before biting his lip.

“Perhaps…maybe we need more forces on the outside, holding other people back. I’ll enter the Demiplane alone,” he said, facing away from the others.

“What?” Nina blinked before frowning, “That’s just stupid. I mean, you already made the other plan, why are we changing it last second? Plus leaving you all alone to distract Lucifer and save Crowley seems ineffective, full offense. If he has a single guard or aid, you’ll be completely outnumbered.”

“Not to mention the rest of the plan makes less sense. I mean, if Newt doesn’t emerge from Adam’s end of the Demiplane with you, how is he going to protect the Them?” Anathema added.

“It’s just…there’s a hitch with this plan. If Adam can't connect to the Demiplane, I can’t reopen it from inside. Unless someone else recreates and imagined it perfectly, all those trapped inside can never escape and are trapped in an inescapable room,” Aziraphale muttered as he continued to stare into the conjured room.

“Wh…why didn’t you consider that in the plan earlier??” Nina gawked. “That feels like a very major thing to consider.”

“And leave you to be the one lost in the plane? Are you stupid?” Anathema frowned. “You said you can’t reopen it from the inside. Why not wait on the outside?”

“Because either circumstance wouldn’t work out!” Aziraphale huffed in frustration. “Either I get lost there, but the rest of you are safe and maybe something can be figured out, maybe, hopefully, at least you and the kids will be unharmed. Or if you’re there instead of me and it doesn’t work and I cannot fathom the idea of you all getting lost forever if I also happen to fail at casting the spell. Or…or you’re there, and the spell works as intended and the kids are protected and he is confronted, but I am not there and cannot be of assistance, and quite possibly-“

“I think you may be misjudging the situation and overthinking things,” Anathema spoke up.

“You don’t need to be there Mr. Fell,” Newt quickly interrupted after her.

“Yes I do!” he snapped back as he finally turned around to face them, keeping his grip on the door. “T-this isn’t my ego talking dear boy, but I need to be there.”

“But…why?” Muriel frowned, “Do you not think we can rescue Mr. Crowley?”

“N-not at all,” Aziraphale mumbled as his posture slumped and he deflated, “I just…I need to be there. For him. And…perhaps for me too I suppose.”

“What do you mean?” Muriel asked. Aziraphale sheepishly bit his lip and looked down. He hated to admit it, but there had been something antagonizing him.

“I’m upset that he left, regardless of the intention. He ran off to a jewel from the past without even a note explaining why. And I worry that a part of me suspects that even if we go to rescue him, he won’t…he won’t be rescued. ‘The ram claiming his prize,’ and all. I’m worried that even after all of this, he’ll still refuse to come home, so if that is the case, I need to hear the words from his mouth.”

“Mr. Fell…” Muriel sighed as they approached him and grabbed his arm, “Mr. Crowley loves you! You know that-“

“But he ran.”

“He still loves you! I’d even hasten to say he loves all of us, past his snarky exterior.”

Aziraphale heavily sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I know that he does, my dear. I just…it’s that who knows what is going on there, and it may result in him changing his mind, whether on his own or not, and I want to be there to try to dissuade him in the case that…”

He silently trailed off, biting his lip. This is a high leveled sorcerer, nearly a god, that they’re directly going up against. A god, who, from the stories he has been told and what he has seen, will do anything to get what he wants in the end. And he understands that his partner is one of those desires, for one reason or another. The thought of potentially losing him like this makes him feel helpless — not just because of the selfish reason that he doesn’t want to lose him, but that it may not end up being Crowley’s choice in the end.

Aziraphale shook his head in a desperate attempt to ward off those thoughts, lest he fall down a dangerous slope. He couldn’t let his doubt seep into his faith and love and possibly permanently corrupt it. He needed to reel himself in and reevaluate.

“R-regardless of my own personal feelings, I fear that the plan still needs to be workshopped again. I simply cannot travel with you through the Demiplane in the case that Adam falters with the casting, not that I don’t have faith in the boy. I will not be able to rescue ourselves from the inside. However, I cannot stay outside of the plane either, because I will not be able to tell if the spell doesn’t work unless I am physically there to watch Adam, which I cannot be as that would raise much suspicion if I was to follow or stay nearby,” he heavily sighed. “There’s no good way around it.”

“What if you had a signal, like a flare…?” Newt carefully spoke up. “If you stayed outside of the plane, and if there was trouble you would be signaled to get as close as possible to the base, or if it was successful you’d be teleported or would know to approach?”

“Unfortunately, dear boy, there does not seem to be a spell which could fit all of those requirements,” Aziraphale frowned. “Communication between planes is tricky. The Demiplane itself is also difficult, as I am yet to find out where it lands between the other known planes. There’s too many unknown variables.”

The half-orc seemed to satisfyingly smile to himself. He pulled over his bag of holding to his front and shoved his arm inside, rummaging around its expansive contents.

“Sometimes I forget that I’m a proper artificer,” Newt laughed to himself. “Everything I make never really works as intended. However, as you spoke, I realized that one of my creations finally fits within a specific circumstance in which it seems to finally become useful for.”

With a flourish he pulled out a steel sword, one of Aziraphale’s practice blades that he offered to the young man to tinker with on a rainy afternoon. There were runes scratched into the surface of the handle, and it seemed to emanate a magical essence.

“I wanted to make an enchanted sword, originally. One that had extra firepower or could cause more damage, or even poison if it slashed an enemy. Unfortunately, the only thing the sword seems to be able to do is to return to whoever the wielder is when it is summoned with the intent of being used. If you leave the sword behind, but suddenly decide that you need the sword and mentally plan to use it, the sword and whatever is attached to it will return to the owner. It doesn’t cross planes, as I tested it with the ethereal plane and Anathema casting Blink. And when it can’t return to the owner, the metal would tremor as if it was struggling in its attempt. It can be used like a signal flare and a teleport! Either you’ll get the signal to approach and cast the spell on your own, or you can be brought directly to the battle without using a spell slot!”

“That gimmick feels like it would only work once because its use is so specific,” Nina frowned.

“A lot of my creations are like that,” Newt nervously laughed. “None of them are particularly useful on a day-to-day basis. It’s why I’m not 100% sure if they work to begin with, since they’re a bit hard to test.”

The more Newt spoke, the more bright the cleric seemed to become, more hopeful. It was like a near perfect bandaid over the bleeding mess he had created. He beamed and smiled at the young man, his heart filled with pride and renewed hope and faith.

“My boy, you are brilliant,” Aziraphale grinned. “That is just the thing we may need.”

~~~~~~

“You’re not trying hard enough!” Lucifer snapped as he clutched Crowley's face in his hand harshly. By now Crowley was nearly unrecognizable, or rather, a long forgotten face was re-emerging. His cheeks had found their long forgotten freckles as they were smattered across his upper cheeks and nose, the peppering of obsidian scales had resolved to raw patches of red skin where they once covered, and his eyes had lost their striking amber, instead returning to his brilliant natural brown. Aside from new wrinkles and a different way of carrying himself, Crowley heavily resembled his persona of his teens and early twenties in a way that was more unsettling than nostalgic.

“I promise, I’m trying,” he grunted through partially smushed cheeks and continued straining, his body clenched with concentration

“I don’t have all bloody day to wait for you to figure this out! Or do you want me to do it for you? It’ll make this whole process so much easier!” Lucifer snapped.

Crowley’s whole body was buzzing in pain as he desperately tried to concentrate on Lucifer’s demands. The passage of time has since slipped him, as he was once haphazardly counting the seconds that would pass but has since lost count. It felt strange, getting to see things more clearly now while his mind was swimming and screaming like the day he lost that clarity. Decades younger yet decades older, everything was confused

Lucifer grunted and shoved Crowley away again before taking in a deep, frustrated sigh.

“One last time, lamb. You have one last try,” he hissed. The matted curls hung over Crowley’s face to hide his expression behind the curtain of ginger, though the sad and shallow nod was enough to give Lucifer the go ahead.

Crowley was positioned in the center of an intricate sigil created with a complicated arrangement of chalk mixed with stardust and astrology maps projected onto the floor below.

Lucifer returned to his spot outside of the circle and with one last huff, he held out his hands and tried to cast the spell once more

As he muttered under his breath a spell in an ancient language Crowley struggled to decipher, a subtle wind started to pick up and spin, causing the stardust to sparkle and fly in the air around Crowley.

The reaction was near instant as the tiefling’s ears started to sharply ring with a high pitch shrill and his skin prickled like it was on fire. With a grunt, he closed his eyes and desperately tried to focus his energy as he stretched out his arms and held up his palms, trying to will a ball of flame into existence.

He was burning, the earth shifting and spinning beneath him.

He was burning, as his hair kept flying, length growing longer and curls becoming a bit more tight.

He was burning, his body shivering as if dumped into a cold ocean.

A guttural moan crawled from his throat, shrinking his fangs as it dripped from his jaw. Just then, a brilliant spark flicked to life just above his hands, spinning and growing and feeding off of him like a miniature sun becoming an independent inferno. An invisible force slid past his arms, almost like thick invisible coils were carefully winding away from him and twisting further and further away. The power grew more distant with each turn, swirling towards and getting sucked within the manifested flame. More of his energy began to sap away painfully and slowly, though there was a sort of catharsis from purging the pent up magic that had cursed him for so long.

The room began to bend and stretch, and the image of the stars above him seemed to dim and shrink further and further away. His gaze unfocused from them, knowing he was instead supposed to abandon the wider sky and put all of himself into the flame, into Aries. The stars faded to hazy pinpricks before the sky went dark.

Almost.

“See that? That’s Horologium, it’s a part of the La Caille family of constellations.”

Crowley’s eyes drifted to an unseen vision. The forms of two figures lying down beside a small tent and a recently snuffed fire found him.

He remembered the moment keenly—it was from one of his earlier adventures with Aziraphale. The two had fought a manic mechanic clockmaker. Aziraphale had nearly gotten crushed between two giant gears in their clock tower battlefield, and although he tried to hide it, he was certainly frazzled. As much as Crowley had avoided the zodiacs that shaped his past life at the time, he still recognized stargazing as therapeutic and used the opportunity to try and give Aziraphale some peace of mind.

“The stars are said to resemble a clock and pendulum,” Crowley’s memory added.

“Hm,” Aziraphale hummed uncomfortably before taking a long, drawn out breath and releasing some pent up tension, “At least not every clock will try to kill me I suppose, then.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Crowley added. Aziraphale didn’t respond verbally, but he did flush a considerably innocent pink and scooted a little bit closer to the rogue.

Crowley couldn’t help but feel the smallest smile and warmth that combated the overwhelming discomfort of his body. However, the soothing feeling was quickly replaced with panic as the shadows in the memory too began to dim and drift away into the dark.

He struggled to hold on to what was fleeting. The feelings of terror yet comfort as he once faced the inferno to protect the young boy, but was shielding by a comforting light and brought back to earth. The drunken laughter as he leaned against who would become a close friend and spill his secrets to a well guarded vault. The rush of power in a desperate attempt to free the one thing he truly loved and still lived for.

The memories were quiet and unreachable.

The cold shock of a tear falling from his eyelashes down to his cheek felt like the gentle brush of tall grass covered in wet due. He was back in that forest, wheezing as he tried to clear the smoke from his lungs and ignore his burnt skin as he stared up at the night sky through the trees, thinking to himself, “what now?”.

He was burning, all of it falling and concentrating into the warm ball held above his hands, presented to the ram like a sacrificial offering.

Lucifer drew closer, holding out his own hands and closing in on the brilliant flame. The ram’s fingers outstretched and enveloped the ember. Just as he nearly plucked it away, Crowley's heart peeled with anguish and the fire exploded with a clatter of sparks that bounced playfully onto the ground below. The color returned to Crowley's cheeks, along with his fangs and usual hairstyle.

He panted, losing all energy as he practically collapsed onto the ground. The moment Lucifer made contact with what was essentially his essence, everything screamed and pushed against the ram in a desperate attempt to protect itself.

“I’m sorry…” Crowley heaved. “I-I tried, I tried, I’m sorry…”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” Lucifer snapped as he clapped his hands together twice and a shimmering orb appeared before him. Within the warbling lines of the spinning sphere was the familiar image of his home, once again taunted through the magical vision.

Crowley’s struggle in trying to complete the spell to sever the celestial connection was long and painful, arduous and exhaustive. However, Lucifer did not afford any courtesy to even acknowledge the agony he was undergoing.

Rather than taunt him, Lucifer was too frustrated to let Crowley beg and instead clenched his fist violently. The movement was mimicked by a violent crushing blast within the vision as well, and a frightening explosion tore into his home before Crowley even realized what was happening or had a chance to scream.

“I’m through with these games,” Lucifer hissed. “There’s nothing waiting for you anymore. Either you are going to cooperate and finish this nonsense, or I’ll grab and pull it out myself.”

Crowley was in a stunned silence, his mind and body numb as he watched the shimmering image of his home crumble and fall. Everything he was doing was to protect them, to keep them out of this mess. But now he has failed that as well.

‘There is still hope,’ the all-too-familiar voice hummed in his ear.

Crowley’s breath shuttered. He had no energy left to fight or even quip back at what he so desperately wanted to silence at this point.

Voices continued to speak, both inside and outside of his mind. He couldn’t fathom either, though. His world was too busy burning after all. He wanted to throw up, but his entire being felt completely void and empty. He realistically knew a tsunami of feelings was somewhere within him, but all he felt like now was an empty shell of a man. Utterly destroyed. And the worst part is that that truth meant that Lucifer had technically gotten what he’d wanted — Anthony J. Crowley was no more. He had gone with his family, may as well have passed among them in the fire. But the husk of him stood here, trembling at the feet of Aries.

“Please…” the broken spirit breathed as it bowed its head in defeat. A simple request, a simple plea.

Lucifer hummed as he crept over and crouched down, gently cupping their face so that their eyes would meet. There was barely any fight or resistance.

“Please…” they sighed again.

“Come to me, Raphael,” Lucifer whispered with a satisfied grin. His hands grew warm from the places they touched on Crowley's body as they sapped away the power. Crowley swayed and slumped further, and as the reality solidified with the prolonged lack of interruption to call this all a hoax, he felt the knife in his side twist further and his body grow colder.

All at once, a grand noise clattered through the space.

The diamonds and crystals that decorated the walls shimmered and chimed as a door violently swung open. There was the distinct pop of a ward being broken, a protective spell falling away.

Crowley could barely process what was going on as Lucifer harshly gripped onto his arm and he felt the rest of his body grow cold before being tossed to the ground.

There were voices, it seemed. Quite a few of them. But all he could really sense was the pure anger radiating off of the ram.

He laid there for a few more moments, head still pounding and unsure of what was going on. Through narrow slits he could detect that harsh lights were moving around the room, though not much else without actually looking. The sounds of voices mixed in with a symphony of clashes and explosions. Still, nothing roused him until he felt a hand touch his arm again. Although he instinctively flinched, he registered that the touch was different from Lucifer’s — far less harsh.

A gentle white filled his vision — not the sort of sharp white light that would burn and hurt, but the comforting shine of the North Star. He let himself physically relax within the warm light as the chaos continued around him outside of his senses.

The noise and figures faded into the background as he willed himself to focus on what was becoming his shield, as the comforting touch held onto his other side and pulled him in close.

With all that overwhelmed him, the sudden relief and comfort was almost unbelievable — a whiplash of emotions he didn’t know he could actually feel after having seen what had happened to his…his…

The image of his home burning returned, and as the tightness refilled his chest, Crowley let out a miserable, wet sob.

“-ley? Crowley, oh my dear, I’ve got you, I’ve got you…”

A voice finally broke past the haze.

Crowley shuddered as he was surrounded by Aziraphale’s presence and scent, which was distinctly like cinnamon and old parchment.

It felt like he was hallucinating, like this was a ghost, but the warm body against him was so distinctly real and grounding.

“‘Ziraphale, I…I-I thought-“

“Shh, breathe my dear,” Aziraphale gently hushed. “We’re all okay, I promise you.”

Crowley had a million things to say, but he only had one thing to do that override all words; with an incredibly raw and overjoyed cry, he buried his face even further into his partner’s chest and clutched onto Aziraphale as tight as he could, determined to never let him go again. In fact, he felt the urge well up to protect all of his family right then and there at all costs.

Slowly, he pulled away slightly to look up at Aziraphale’s soft expression watching over him. Frankly he still wasn’t entirely convinced that this wasn’t all a vision or rather his first view in heaven with the rest of his teammates. Even their immediate surroundings seemed a little too surreal and dreamy — perfectly calm and protected. Still though, a few glimpses of the fighting going on past the swirling mist of Otiluke’s Resilient Sphere surrounding them alluded to the fighting occurring outside.

“We’re perfectly safe for now,” Aziraphale said gently. “The sphere won’t hold up forever, and we certainly can’t leave the others to the fray on their own.”

It seemed he was speaking more just to himself than to Crowley, but still the tiefling hung onto every word regardless.

“H…how are you…wh, I, huh?” Crowley sputtered, his mind trying to catch up to even form words.

“Anathema’s predilection came to the rescue. We packed up the house and relocated to a safe bunker once we anticipated the explosion. Since then we’ve all been planning to come here to save you, dear. And now, well, the plan’s in motion,” Aziraphale said as he looked up through the fogged layer of the sphere. Although obscured, the moving shapes were enough to imply the battle outside. It seemed from the great diversity of blurred attacks that the others were holding their own, though that didn’t mean they were out of the woods by any means. Still though, he resolved to use any time he could to prepare Crowley for the rest of the fight, especially considering the state they’d found him in.

Aziraphale turned his attention back to the tiefling in his arms and carefully traced his fingers along his cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re alright, Crowley. I’ll have a word with you later about how cross I am regarding your sudden disappearance, but I can’t say I don’t understand why you did what you did,” he sighed as he gently touched one of the areas that was previously covered in scales, “Still though, when we first made it in here, I didn’t quite recognize you at first. Took me a second look, but no doubt you’re still my dashing serpent.”

There was some relief in knowing that the others were truly okay, that they had avoided most of the trouble and even the horror of the explosion he was forced to watch from a distance. He had to remember to thank Anathema profusely for her visions — they have saved their lives more times than they can really count at this point.

Crowley shivered at the touch, the skin still a bit raw and sensitive and unused to being exposed. But even still, he reveled in the feeling, in the comfort from the tingling knowing who it was from.

“He didn’t leave me a choice…” he sighed, his voice quiet. “He did this…well…we both did…”

The thrum of magic still danced on his senses every now and then, the mixture of their two energies against his soul that turned the clock back.

“Oh Crowley…” Aziraphale frowned as he leaned down and pressed his lips against the other’s forehead. When he pulled away, his hand slid down slowly and rested against Crowley’s chest. He was quick to notice the hard thump of his heartbeat.

“Let me help you, dear. Anything you want, however you wish to be. What do you need?” He asked softly.

Crowley hesitated as he glanced out of the sphere to watch the blur of a mess just beyond it. He frowned as the distinct sight of bright fire flared and shot across the room.

“I just want to go home…” Crowley heavily sighed.

“I’d love nothing more than to take you there,” Aziraphale hummed. He began to loosen his grip slightly, but Crowley instinctively hugged back.

“I’m sorry dear, but if we’re to take you home, we’ll need to get past Lucifer first,” Aziraphale explained carefully as he shifted back again. This time, Crowley didn’t clutch onto him as tightly, though he still lingered.

“B-But…you shouldn’t fight, Azi,” he said breathlessly. After being laid up in bed, Aziraphale was hardly ready to face off against a conduit to a minor god.

Right?

The cleric smirked at him as he stood carefully. With a surprisingly elegant flourish, an enormous pair of wings unfurled from his back and one flick of his wrist summoned a brilliantly fiery sword.

“Beautiful…” Crowley breathed as he looked up at his partner in awe. The words came out of his mouth before he even got to consider the implications of what he was seeing. Aziraphale blushed and bashfully looked off to the side in slight embarrassment.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said with a light laugh. “But, I feel more than ready to fight, and I have you to thank for that my dear.”

“Huh?” Crowley blinked. Aziraphale smiled and knelt back down in front of him, briefly setting down his sword to grab Crowley's arms.

“You took care of me — you can be so sweet, dear. Let me take care of you now,” he sighed before leaning forward and pressing a sweet kiss to the tiefling’s lips before standing up carefully and grasping his sword once again. With a quick snap of his fingers, he created a small gap in the sphere for him to slip out of before the surface reformed, protecting Crowley inside while he rushed towards Lucifer, currently rallying blasts against Nina’s barrage of arrows.

It took a moment for Crowley to process what had just happened before he quickly shot to his feet and stumbled to the edge of the sphere.

They were all crazy! He had faith that they could hold their own for a while, yes, but the ram is not one to hold back and most definitely has way more stamina and health than the rest of them combined. It was practically a death sentence!

In a frenzied panic, Crowley attempted to rush forward — although the situation seemed considerably helpless and marked for certain death, the urge to protect his family superseded reason. However, he was quickly struck with the fact that he couldn’t escape Aziraphale’s sphere, not when it was made of magic.

“ShitshitshitshitSHITSHITSHIT!”

The tiefling started to anxiously pace in a circle and tug at his hair in frustration. He had no weapons, he was surely not strong enough physically to just tear away at the sphere to let himself go — Aziraphale certainly wouldn’t budge either and wouldn’t let him out until the spell wore off on its own.

Now, stuck in a perpetual bubble, he felt threatened by time, but also somehow safe and calm enough to think rationally — to view this situation from a wider lens.

Lucifer had hurt him. Lucifer was abusive. Lucifer wasn’t good. These were things Crowley had acknowledged in his time since leaving, but sentiments that he needed a reminder of since he’d fallen back into his trauma responses under the ram’s thumb.

Still though, he being here brought back other memories too, not just the ones regarding his former mentor. This place, his old lifestyle, had been so thoroughly tainted by Aries that he’d rejected it outright. But admittedly, there were things he had to sacrifice simply due to the association with his abuser.

The stars, his whole identity, his magic, heck even his own intelligence and love for academia he completely buried and desperately tried to throw away in an attempt to distance the new from the old.

It hurt, he adjusted over time, and was better as a result. But even as things got better he refused to let the two partially merge and let himself accept that those things shouldn’t be ruined.

For the longest time, “Crowley” was a persona, a coping mechanism to deal with what had happened. But eventually he’d realized Crowley was himself, regardless of whatever he’d initially justified it as: a fake identity to hide undercover, a made-up man to entertain his “ridiculous fantasies,” in Lucifer’s words, of being male presenting, whatever “justification” he’d used prior was more for ease of denial. But Crowley was Crowley, and he loved being Crowley.

But that also didn’t mean that “Raphael” was a different person either. In accepting Crowley, he’d inadvertently shut away another truth of himself.

Crowley slowly backed away from the barrier and gently slumped back down onto the floor. The stars had been calling him for so long.

Perhaps it was time to answer.

With a heavy sigh, he held his head back and glanced up towards what would be the sky and closed his eyes.

Before, it was all out of desperation. The need to make a point, selfish in nature. He had forcibly grabbed it without asking for permission, really, latching on like a hook to a fish.

This time, it was so much more.

“Please, forgive me,” he whispered in his thoughts. “If you’d let me?”

The stars seemed to hesitate before twinkling.

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ the familiar but unknown voice asked.

Crowley breathed in a long stream of air that was old and stale, but admittedly nostalgic. It was a goodbye to the air itself.

“Yes.”

There seemed to be a moment of hesitation from the other being, before his senses were quickly overwhelmed with a strong, familiar, and sudden energy. The sparks of fire spread out to every limb, making his skin prickle and burn. The tiefling didn’t even flinch, reveling in the warmth. Somehow, despite the whiplash of emotions he’d suffered in the past 20 minutes alone, he was not scared. For as overwhelming and stressful as change was, he did feel ready.

From their vantage point outside, between glimpses of fighting with Lucifer and the sphere still standing on the far side of the room, the spell seemed to become a sort of chrysalis, glowing and changing with a flourish of colors that certainly weren’t there before.

“Oh…oh gods he was right,” Nina said in awe once she noticed the lights.

Aziraphale glanced back at the sphere and warmly smiled to himself. He could practically feel the warm energy radiate from it.

Lucifer followed their gaze and looked up in horror at the sight. In a blaze of fury, he released a violent attack, spears of flame shooting out in all directions and throwing all of them backwards.

“What have you done!” He shrieked as he hurled a blast at the glistening dome. Although the powerful blast yielded a few cracks, Aziraphale managed to recoil in time and raised his hands, reinforcing the shield as much as he could to give Crowley the time he needed.

“All you did was delay the inevitable!” Aziraphale yelled. “You knew it was going to turn out this way eventually!”

“The gods do not play games like this! Disrupting the balance!” Lucifer growled as he launched another attack.

“Where the hell have you been??” Nina gawked.

With a frustrated, guttural roar, Lucifer snapped, his form dripping with a spastic, molten power.

“I tried destroying you once, cockroaches! I’ll do it again!” He snapped with a subsequent wave of his arm. At once, glowing tendrils of maroon sprang forth and snatched the four of them by their throats, “You had to get involved, didn’t you?! Idiots! I will revel in snapping your ne-“

The sphere suddenly burst in a flair of color and orange sparks, the pieces falling like crystals of snow. A form jumped and collided with Lucifer, causing the ram to lose his focus on the spell and drop the others from his grip.

He’d hardly gotten a chance to register the sudden impact before two sharp talons harshly gripped him under the arms and flung him violently into the nearby wall with a shattering impact, followed by a barrage of furious and fiery blows. After the final blast landed and no more force kept him against the surface, Lucifer pitifully slid off and tumbled into a heap on the floor below. The others hesitated, waiting to see if he would move. The conduit seemed still, lying against the rubble. He emitted a low groan and shakily pushed himself up to his feet, holding his body up against the wall for support.

Before him was a new silhouette.

Crowley stood as a powerful force before him, refreshed and radiant. His hair a blazing copper and reaching his lower back, portions braided in snaking sections that tied it together elegantly. His previous patches of scales had returned with an additional smattering, though this time the patterns appeared more purposeful. The obsidian had fully covered his hands now in dark black talons. Despite Lucifer’s best efforts, Crowley's eyes had now returned to their gold, serpentine appearance.

Among the other changes, the biggest and most notable was his morphological metamorphoses; no longer did Crowley have legs but instead he supported himself on a grand black and crimson snake tail.

“These games are over, babe,” Crowley lowly hissed. His voice seemed to reverberate throughout the room, as if he was speaking directly into everyone’s ears. “Like I said before, your fight is with me! We can either attack each other senselessly until we rip our throats out, or you can give up — stand down. Give me the same respect you give to any other zodiac and leave my family alone," Crowley growled with a quick glance back at the others before turning his attention back to the ram, “What do you say?”

Lucifer straightened himself with considerable effort, and although he seemed shaky, he regained his normal stature.

“No way in heaven or hell or anywhere in between,” Lucifer hissed before pouncing forward with a shockingly quick parade of small fireballs, whizzing around and firing towards Crowley from multiple directions.

Crowley rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance. Well, at least he gave it an attempt at the bare minimum.

With a quick flourish and snap, a blaze of fire followed the movement of his arm and effectively blocked all of the attacks, as well as carefully shifted to the side in order to avoid Lucifer from grabbing on.

Lucifer fumbled when he failed to latch onto Crowley as intended. Crowley quickly used that to his advantage, turning and shifting his tail to instead whip up and snatch Lucifer’s outstretched arms. Once he’d gotten a good grip, Crowley twisted his body harshly, dragging the ram with him and whirling Lucifer around to smash against the ground below. Crowley was quick to pin him down in the spots

“Know when to stop. You don’t need me, I don’t need you. We have different priorities — I’m giving you a chance to walk away! I have so many years of fury and hatred for you pent up, it’s taking more energy to hold that in than to fight you.”

Lucifer loudly groaned, both in pain and annoyance as he slumped against the stone, still within Crowley’s grip. But even as his whole body buzzed with pain, the conduit started to loudly laugh as he wheezed.

“A-ah…so you’ve still got it after all…”

“This isn’t just continuing where I stopped,” Crowley said as he snapped his fingers as if lighting a match. A brilliant spark appeared floating between his fingers, “This is more. I’ve grown since then. Even without practicing magic, I’ve matured and gained strength in other ways.”

Suddenly his chest puffed, and the small flame in his hand intensified, shifting to a brilliant blue.

“Now’s not the time to underestimate me.”

The ram seemed satisfied, in an odd way, as he continued to shove his way into Crowley’s thoughts and make him more and more reactive to his words.

“Prove it to me,” Lucifer smirked.

With a frustrated grunt, Crowley plunged his fist forward, down into Lucifer’s chest and above this heart. The blue flame sparked with a furious blaze, and soon a raging inferno blasted forth, encapsulating both of their forms in flame. It was hot, and in spite of his kinship with fire and infernal bloodline, the pure strength of the fire stung. But still, the intense emotions clouded his current awareness and Crowley hardly registered the pain. Running off of pure adrenaline it seemed like, all of his energy was put into this flame, aggressive and angry and full of regret for past mistakes. The heat ate at his skin and hair, causing them to prickle and burn along with the rest of him.

There was a yell, deep and guttural and almost ethereal in the way it echoed. Which from the two it was coming from was hard to tell.

“Mr. Crowley!” Muriel gasped as they instinctively rushed forward.

“Careful, careful!” Anathema gasped as she tried to snatch them back, but in running forward she realized in tandem how broiling hot the fires emanating from the gods really were, “oh damn…”

“Crowley! Don’t hurt yourself!” Aziraphale called pleadingly.

“Yeah! He’s trying to goad you on! He’s toying with you!” Nina yelled.

The intensity and harsh roaring of the flames was difficult to hear over, not to mention the intense focus he had on his foe served to block out outside stimuli.

As he stared down at ram with pure anger, his arm shaking as he pressed further and harder into his chest, Lucifer let out a cough and a wheezing, mocking laugh. There was a look in his eyes past the pain — satisfaction.

“Even now…you’re still obsessed with me,” he smirked. “I should feel honored, really…I’ve captured your full attention.”

The pleas of his family continued to fall on deaf ears as the serpent lowly growled in annoyance and focused more pressure he put into the hold and flame. His talons clenched with the distinct feeling of flesh tearing and pulling beneath them.

“I just am curious to sssee if you can properly die,” he spat, his s’s slurring into a proper hiss.

“Always the intellectual!” Lucifer laughed with a maddening cackle. He managed to wrangle one arm free, but instead of fighting back, he snatched Crowley's wrist and pulled it down further, almost assisting Crowley in antagonizing himself, “You know the zodiacs like the back of your hand, and now those hands are your own! You wish to know how we perish so badly that you will be the one to bear death on your conscience! Do it then! Spill my blood, coat your fingers in me!”

Crowley released a beastial cry as he sank deeper into his power. His flame was so bright that it hurt his own eyes to see, but he kept plunging further and further to destroy that who he despised, that who cursed him, that who hurt-

A strange, foreign sensation struck him.

It was a feeling he’d never felt before, a touch that almost made him shiver from the surprise. It was enough, at least, to distract him and grab his curiosity. He turned to find the source of the sensation, and through the blaring light made out Aziraphale having grabbed the tip of his new tail, desperately bracing against the flames with blue aura around him, some sort of protection from fire it seemed from the fact that he currently wasn’t scorched. However, it was clear the spell wasn’t foolproof, the edges of his covering beginning to flicker and warble enough that flames licked the edges of his clothes and small patches of skin.

There was a quiet plea in his eyes when they both met each other.

“Please.”

Aziraphale pulled himself closer, wincing as the flames kept grazing him as he got closer and closer to the center, to the source. If he wasn’t surrounded by a deadly heat, there would’ve been tears gently falling from his eyes. He started to speak, but the roar of the flames made it hard to hear him clearly, but Crowley was able to read his lips.

“You’ve won, please, come home,” he pleaded. “You’re burning up.”

Crowley stiffened and reflexively tried to breathe, but was quick to choke on flames and bitter ash. Reality and clarity hit him. With a careful nod, the flames extinguished themselves, shrinking back into Crowley's body until they fizzled into residual smoke.

His eyes flicked back up to Aziraphale, who returned a shaken but proud smile. Now calm and in control, Crowley turned back to Lucifer.

“This-“

He didn’t get the word out before a sickening squelch and a moist plunging sound tore out from beneath him. In one moment, Crowley was looking at Lucifer. In the next, he was staring at a dark red fistful, throbbing and dripping with blood with a familiar “tha-thump. Tha-thump.”

His whole body froze as he stared down at what his mind was refusing to comprehend was real. The blood trailed through the scales coating his claws and dropped down his forearm to finally fall down to the stone from his elbow. It was cold and thick, and he distinctly felt every drop as it moved.

He was painted in the blood of the ram, splattered against his skin and scales like raindrops. In the end, Lucifer had gotten exactly what he wanted, exactly what he said. His death on his mind, and his blood covering his hands.

When has he ever really killed? There have been a few times, over the years — each time out of desperation and necessity in order to keep living and to protect what he loved. Was this all done to protect, or was it pure selfishness?

The others stared on, slack-jawed and almost horrified at the sight. There was something so primal about watching their boss, their friend not only kill someone, but to do it with such brutality with their hands.

While everyone stayed still, Aziraphale managed to snap out of his shock and awkwardly clamor forward, maneuvering around Lucifer’s body and instead push himself into Crowley’s vision. It was obvious he was frazzled, but trying to work quickly in some awkward attempt to prevent a panic.

“It’s over, it’s over now dear,” he fussed as he used an arm to slip around the side of Crowley's ribs and cradle his back. The other arm gently took the heart from Crowley's other hand and calmly set it on the floor beside them. He didn’t even flinch as he felt it twitch in his grasp. Once it was placed on the tile, he reached back up, quickly wiping the blood from his hand on his shirt, and caressing Crowley’s cheek, though with the secondary motive of using his hand to partially block the corpse from Crowley’s vision as much as possible.

It looked like he was lost, barely even blinking or registering that Aziraphale was gently moving him around. At the very least, he was breathing.

“It’s over now, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Aziraphale breathed as he gently smoothed down Crowley’s hair. “We can go home now!”

The air was stale and silent, no one dared to breathe a word.

With Crowley still deeply and thoroughly dazed, Aziraphale prayed the others would be a little easier to snap out of their shock.

“Erm, Muriel! Dear! We should find our way out of here now, yes? If you and Anathema can manage, it would be very helpful if you were to gather the others and teleport everyone back to our initial rendezvous point. Then once everyone is accounted for we can-“ he quickly turned back to Crowley, “-go home. We’ve all deserved a thorough rest after this.”

Muriel stood stiff for another moment but eventually managed an awkward nod and began struggling with a standard teleportation spell. In their defense, they were still a bit frazzled and distracted by the body still bleeding fresh blood before them, but they eventually managed.

In an instant, the other three quickly disappeared as the spell sent them back to where the closest group was currently hiding. Aziraphale hoped that they decided to just quickly get to work and get out of here rather than panic and spread what had happened. He’d rather sit and discuss this properly.

He silently looked over at the heap of the ram, who was lying there still and in an awkward heap when he fell from Crowley’s grip. He frowned as he contemplated — should he feel grief or ever guilt over the man? His tired and frazzled mind didn’t want to bother considering that right now.

As he tried to maneuver his partner, Crowley slumped against him, his whole body weak and limp as he continued to be unreachable, his gaze still empty and terrified. It was a little awkward to get him into a proper position that didn’t seem to aggravate either of their burns.

“Crowley, don’t speak unless you need to, save your energy, dear. Just let me, umm…” he mumbled, mainly to himself aware his partner wouldn’t respond, as he took Crowley in his arms and held him gently, swaying him just slightly. With a free hand, he carefully snapped his fingers to cast Create Water. As a gentle stream manifested and started to flow, he carefully directed it towards Crowley’s arms, washing away the deep and sticky maroon that was coating his new scales. Still, there was no reaction from his partner, even as the cold water trickled down his skin, but the cleric tried not to let that bother him as he carefully finished cleaning him up and held him securely in his arms. Unfortunately, Aziraphale felt spent, so casting any large healing spells was off the table, but hopefully one of the others had a potion or two on them to help. After the intense battle, and returning to the center stage after being out of commission for so long, casting powerful spells boarded on dangerous for Aziraphale at times due to how much energy it simply took to cast anything.

“We’re going home now, dear,” Aziraphale whispered, “I’m going to pick you up, okay?”

It was admittedly awkward to speak at a moment like this, but with the state Crowley was in, Aziraphale thought it very important to be clear and communicative about his actions, even if the recipient of his words didn’t seem particularly receptive. Gently he readjusted and maneuvered Crowley sideways, though it was quickly apparent how much his weight had changed with the complete change of his body; the tail would need some getting used to, especially since he didn’t want it dragging on the ground. Once the cleric felt that he was holding him properly and comfortably, the tiefling in a pseudo-bridal style position with his upper torso draped across Aziraphale’s shoulders and head carefully tilted to the side, he huffed and stood, finally leaving behind what felt like a strange prison cell.

It felt like the stars were finally happily singing, the balance they so desired finally reached. The absence will be only temporary, as it will restore once the cycle renews. But now, it was finally at peace after crying and reaching for so many years.

Unbeknownst to them, at that moment an entire faction of the star-studying students felt a shift. Something had changed, and those students who were under false understandings of their true zodiac felt the sudden shock as Ophiuchus breach its role in the sky.

No one understood what had changed, but everyone agreed that something certainly had.

As the just anointed pseudo-god and his husband left the chamber, Crowley swore that among the many other senses overwhelming him, he began to feel the unseen chords of celestial power drawing him to students and bridging the gap to the universe. While that pressure was towering, among everything else that had happened it felt like a mere headache. Perhaps he’d have more time to realize the weight of it later, but for now he was simply too exhausted.

It seemed that Crowley finally left his state of shock when he slumped and fell asleep in Aziraphale’s arms, at peace and his expression free from pain. That moment finally allowed the cleric to breathe and put himself at ease — for now, it was over, they won and they were free. Even with thoughts and memories of which he’d probably encounter later in his dreams, he smiled as he approached the gathered group of heroes and let himself beam with happiness and relief.

“Thank you, all of you,” he said barely above a whisper to avoid disturbing the sleeping serpent in his arms.

The Them stared at the interesting changes Crowley appeared to have undergone. Newt stared as well, though Anathema was quick to elbow him to discourage his gawking. Thankfully, it had seemed that the others who were present for the main battle had kept the sights to themselves, but even then that still didn’t dissipate the awkward feeling in the air. Aziraphale was already mentally planning on sitting with them and letting them talk — even if they all came out of this physically okay, he still made it a top priority for everyone to debrief after long-term quests like this.

Noticing the hesitancy and partial confusion on where to go and leave the premises, Beelzebub bristled and stepped up, haphazardly pushing the team to leave in an attempt to be an escort and prevent them all from potentially getting caught once the ram’s current absence was noticed by anyone else.

The sun was setting, the stars starting to peak out into the sky as they traveled. No one admitted it to each other, but they all swore they could hear them happily singing like a heavenly choir of hosts. They couldn’t make out any lyrics from the ancient sort of language that echoed, except for one distinct phrase that rang between the trees.

’Welcome home.’

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aphroditestummyrolls · 4 months

Note

between hope and desperation for the game? if you're still doing that, if not, have a lovely day <3

Hi anon ❤️ I’m so so sorry for how long it’s taken for me to reply to this. The holidays are just so busy, and visiting home makes writing a slower type of process. And for some reason, BHaD takes so much longer than other stories! I think I just want this one in particular to be perfect, and that’s tripping me up.

Thank you asking for this story, though. I love it, and it is coming! 😅 slowly but surely!

I have a job for you, Brekker had said when she was summoned to his office. The words were out before she even had a chance to breathe. But, I need your utmost discretion. Is that clear?

Nina barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes— they’d been constantly searching for nearly two days! She was too tired to waste her breath coming up with comebacks for the likes of Kaz Brekker.

And besides, she heard his heart. It was hammering away in his chest— terrified.

Instead, Nina just raised an expectant eyebrow.

There’s a property manager in the Zelver District by the name of Smeet— he does all manner of work with the assets of different merchant council members, and anyone else with secrets they can afford to pay him to hide. He handles the more conventional things, yes, but is also known in the right circles for being discreet. He likes gambling at the Club Cumulus, and has a penchant for young blondes who aren’t his wife. He takes these blondes to a set of rooms he rents in the Garden District.

And what does this have to do with me? Or Jesper and—

Patience, dear Nina. He was snide, choosing to condescend to her rather than snapping. It was absolutely worse than his usual short temper, and her chest went hot with the flush of anger. I’ll answer questions at the end.

I have it on good authority that these rooms aren’t just where he keeps secrets from his wife. They’re also where he keeps his clients' most clandestine paperwork— the things they want records of without them ending up on any official books. They’re kept in a safe behind the mirror in the bedroom. It’s bolted into the wall, has a gaudy old frame— you can’t miss it.

Nina blinked. Are you asking me to sleep with some crusty old lawyer?

It was a strange kind of relief, watching the way Kaz’s face twisted at the idea. He shot her a look that was an emphatic no, if ever she saw one. She felt herself exhale. At least that was one less fight she needed to have.

I want you to flirt your way into his secret rooms, and get answers from him. He said it as if that was obvious. Use your power to learn what you can, then take him out. The safe combination is 6-8-3-4– take duplicates on anything you find of note in the Van Eck file.

I still don’t understand what this has to do with Jesper or Wylan. Your crows are missing! Your best friend! And his—

I know what Jesper is to me. Kaz snapped, slamming a drawer. He had a blonde wig in his gloved hand. But what do you actually know about Wylan?

At the time, it had stalled her heart. Kaz’s blood pressure had spiked on Wylan’s name, and his eyes were like pieces of ice.

Thanks so much for your patience! And thank you for playing my little game ❤️❤️❤️

#six of crows #wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #nina zenik

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stefanmikaleson1864 · 1 year

Text

City On Fire

Nina and OA Story

The actress who plays Nina also plays in a tv show called the sniper where she’s the wife to a ex-soldier and has a little girl and they are hunted down,I had a crazy au story what if Nina had a kid with someone who was ex-military but they didn’t get married but it was like she was in high school and stuff when it happened and Oa finds out she has a little girl and is there for her and they end up together

Requested by @CSCVS

A/N: I really hope you like this ! I was so excited to write this !! If you like my work please comment like and reblog it means a lot to see interactions on my work

NIna’s POV

Working for the FBI was a dream come true. I didn’t think it would happen considering everything that happened.

But looking down at my FBI badge it was all surreal. Everyone always told me that being a teen mom I couldn’t achieve my dreams

. But i was determined to show my daughter that I could. I wanted nothing but a better life for her.

I bounced around a little bit and I was doing some undercover work. Then i got tapped to help out in the JOC and i jumped at the chance. I knew it would lead me to some good things ahead. It was a too good opportunity for me to pass up.

The nerves were real though. Always starting somewhere new was hard. Getting to know everyone was always so awkward.

The big day was finally here and i pushed down the nerves. I woke up a little earlier to get dressed.

Luna was still sleeping so i had to be quiet. I got up and got dressed and did my make up and everything for the day.

After i walked down the stairs and had a little coffee mediation. Trying to clear my head and calm my nerves down.

After a little bit of time. I was broken out of my million thoughts when I heard Luna moving around upstairs.

I knew it was time to get going and grabbed my stuff and doubled checked I had everything.

“Hey Luna can you come down here for a second” I yelled

“coming “ she yelled down

She ran down the stairs still her in PJ’s of course. I just looked at her and rolled my eyes of course she was pushing to be on time.

“Hey baby i gotta go i don’t know how long i’ll be tonight so be careful and be safe” I said walking over and kissing the top of her head.

“Bye mom i’ll be fine like always good luck today you got this” She said trying to squirm underneath my touch.

“I love you” I said

“I love you” She said

She ran back up stairs after that. I just prayed she was on time for school today. I walked out the door and headed to my car.

The ride down was quiet. I didn’t even turn the radio because I was so in my thoughts i totally forgot to.

I got to the Fed building and pulled in . A building I was so familiar with but this feeling was just so different.

I took a deep breath and then headed inside. I was fidgeting with my ID i was wearing the entire time up my anxiety was kicking my ass today.

The ride up stairs felt like it took forever. I just wanted to go upstairs and at the same i didn’t i couldn't explain it.

Finally i reached my destination and i just looked in awe at the commotion. I didn’t spend a lot of time up here so it was cool to see everything happening in real time.

I looked around to see if I could see Jubal or Isobel anywhere. I was busy looking every where but in front of me because i accidentally ran into a tall man.

“Wow omg I’m so sorry” I said looking up at him.

He was cute there was no denying that. He was tall and tan and had black hair that you could tell had some curls in there. He flashed a big smiled and he looked down at me

“No worries I’m Omar but everyone calls me OA you must be Nina” He said

“Yeah that’s me how um did you know” I asked scrunching up my face.

“I know mostly everyone around here and Jubal gave me the heads ups” He said

“Oh yeah right makes sense sorry” I said

“Don’t even worry about it here let me get this” OA said grabbing my bag.

“Wow what a gentleman thank you” I said

“Come on your over here with me” He said.

We walked over to my new temporary desk and sitting in Maggies old desk just felt wrong like I was taking her space. I could feel OA look over at me and It just made me feel more bad.

“Hey it’s okay Maggie wouldn’t you mind keeping her space warm and don’t worry were all excited your here�� OA said.

He made me feel better instantly and that giant smile just melted me.

“Thank you really and I know under better circumstances that I wouldn’t be here but I appreciate you saying it” I told him

“Look of course I love Maggie and she’s gonna get better but in the meantime were all glad you stepped up we heard a lot of good things about you” OA said

“Thank you and same to you Jubal told me all about you guys ex ranger that’s incredible” I said to him

I swear when I said that his whole face turned red and he had this even bigger smile on his face it was really cute to see

“Thank you and you to Undercover ops that’s hella bad ass” He said to me

“No thank you and yeah no big deal honestly” I said trying to push it down and not over talk. ‘

I could also feel my face heating up and sense I was hella white it showed a lot more than him.

Suddenly we were broken out of our conversation when Jubal walked over to us smiling.

“Hey you guys meant already cool good yeah let’s go we got a case let’s go” Jubal said.

“Come on” OA said to me

We walked inside the JOC and some people looked around to see me and gave me that awkward smile.

I nodded and smiled back and kept my head up and tried to focus on the case that was being presented.

Kelly was presenting. A young girl was murdered last night and it hit hard because she was just a little older than my daughter.

“Alright you guys go to the scene Tiff and Scola will head and let the parents know” Jubal said.

“Okay let’s go” I said

Me and OA headed back to our desk when suddenly my phone started ringing and when I looked down I was upset by who it was.

Josh my ex and my daughters father. He was constantly in and out of her life and blamed his time in the military for it.

He always seemed like he had stuff going on and said he was struggling. Which was hard because when we were kids stuff just seemed different between us.

Like we were in love and we were happy and I thought we would be together forever.

That was a entire life time ago and now I was over it and had moved on. My heart just broke for my daughter. Because I knew she deserved better.

I hesitated on answering and decided on the end not to. What ever he wanted it wasn’t that important and it could wait.

I put my phone away and I think there was a look on my face because OA looked at me with a confused look on his face.

“Hey is everything okay” He asked

“Yeah it’s good I’m okay it was nothing” I said

OA gave me a look like he didn’t believe what i was telling him. He seemed worried but he didn’t want to overstep.

We grabbed our stuff and we headed out after that. The elevator ride was quiet down and it seemed like there was some tension in the air.

There was a part of me who wondered if i should address it or leave it be. I was worried because i didn’t want to seem standoffish and rude.

I didn’t want to start off this partnership in the wrong way so I decided to speak up.

“Hey uh sorry about earlier I didn’t mean to sound rude it was just my daughter’s father” I said

OA looked at me with a surprised look on his face. I was starting to wonder if i had over stepped.

“Wow is everything okay between the two of you it seemed rough” OA said

He then looked at me with instant regret and he was probably feeling awkward just like I was.

“No no it’s okay and yeah your right it’s hard between us we were teen parents and then he went to the military and he kind of changed ever sense that” I said

The elevator went off and we both got out. We walked out to the cars and then OA spoke up

“I’m sorry about that you deserve better that” OA said

“Thanks I really appreciate that” I told him.

“Of course yeah Im here if you need anything” OA said

“Same here” I told him.

We walked over to the car after that. We got in and the car ride was silent after that I just kind of looked out the window.

We reached the crime scene and got out. We walked over and a detective walked over to us

“Georgia Bailey 18 years old no suspects but the murder weapon a knife is right over here” She said.

“Anything else we know” I asked.

“Nothing this is where you guys come in” She said.

I looked down at the poor girl and she looked like she was sleeping. But at the same time it was hard to see.

She had multiple stab wounds and there was blood every where. Just looking at her hands she fought like hell.

She had her whole life ahead of her and some horrible bastard took it all away from her.

“You okay” OA whispered to me

“Im fine sometimes it’s just hard seeing a young girl like this hits close to home” I said.

“Yeah i get that It’s gotta be hard you need to take a moment” OA asked me

He even gave me a look and his face was so soft. It just made me melt like I could tell him everything and he would listen.

“I’m okay I promise” I said smiling up at him.

“Let’s get ERT in here and then head back” OA said

I saw something out of the corner of my eye that really caught my eye. My heart sunk into my stomach.

It was a bracelet and I knew Instantly where it came from. Josh was a part of that club. It was full of ex-military men and they all got together and would get drunk and share stories.

The bracelet was sitting just a little bit away from the body. It looked like it got ripped off when they were running away.

OA could see the look on my face.

“Nina hey what’s going on” OA asked

“This bracelet I know it. It’s from the Warmen club” I said

“Okay and how do you know that” OA asked

“Because Josh is involved with them there up to no good over there” I said

“So we got a lead can you talk to him see if he knows anything” OA asked

“Uh yeah I can try I’ll call him back” I said

“Are you sure about it” OA asked as he had a worried look on his face.

“No but we need a lead and this can help” I said

We both walked away and we walked over to the car. We got in and I pulled out my phone.

I pulled up Josh’s number and dialied it. After a couple if rings he picked up and I could feel my heart stop beating.

“Hey Nina nice surprise” Josh said

“Hey you called earlier” I said

“Yeah uh is there any way we can meet and talk it’s kind of important” He said

He said it with a worry in his voice and it was something I never heard from him before. I knew it was serious.

“Meet me at Chai on 6th ave i’ll be there in 15” I said

I hung up the phone and looked over at OA. He gave me a look on his face with a mix of worried and confused.

“He said he wants to meet said it’s important and I never heard him like this before so something is definitely wrong” I said to him

“Okay let’s go i’m coming in though” OA said

“Look he’ll get spooked just stay a table over okay I can handle him” I said

“Fine, let's go,” He said.

We drove off and there it was again this awkward silence. I felt bad because the beginning of this partnership was already starting on the wrong foot.

I decided to say something again because I didn’t want this to be drawn out.

“Hey again I’m sorry we just meant and this all getting real tense real fast” I said to him.

OA let out of a breathe and he looked over at me taking his eyes off the road for a brief second.

“Hey no it’s okay were just rolling off the punches none of this is on you okay were doing everything we can to help this girl and I got you back” OA said

“Thank you” I said

I could feel my face heating up and I wasn’t sure why. It was like I was nervous and gitty at hearing him say he had my back.

The rest of the way was quiet and I couldn’t help but think over and over what was going on. Was Josh involved ? Was there something else going on

We finally made our way to the coffee shop and I got out first. OA went and parked and would come in a few minutes after me. I looked around to see where he was.

I could feel my hand shaking and I tried to control my breathing. I finally spotted him sitting in the corner and he was bouncing around.

I walked over to him and he finally saw me.

“Hey Josh calm down what’s going on” I asked.

“Nina hey hey thank you for coming” He said

“Let’s sit down and talk about this” I said to him.

“Fine okay it’s about the club” Josh said

“What’s going on” I asked him

I looked down and noticed his bracelet was missing. I never saw him without it and my anxiety instantly went through the roof. This did not look good. I looked around and saw OA standing at a table drinking coffee.

There was a bad feeling in my gut. Something about this wasn’t right I could feel it. I kept looking around and saw another member of the group sitting at another table.

What the hell was happening here.

“Hey what is going on and why is Erik here” I asked

“Nina I’m sorry okay I messed up they said they would take her” Josh

“Take who Josh” I yelled

My anxiety was at an all time high now all I could think about was Luna and was she okay.

“Where is Luna where the hell is my daughter” I yelled again

“I don’t know okay” Josh yelled.

I was so worked up I didn’t even notice OA had walked over.

“Hey what the hell is going on” OA asked standing in front of me

“Who the hell are you” Josh asked

“Don’t worry about me now answer the damn question” OA said

He puffed up his chest and he was mad. I could tell how protective he was being.

“I swear I don’t know where she is okay that’s why I’m calling” Josh said

“What did they make you do” I asked

“Some things i couldn’t I wouldn’t so i need to make sure she’s okay” Josh said

I picked up my phone and dialed Luna. It just kept ringing and ringing and my heart just went slower and slower.

She didn’t answer so I kept trying over and over. OA walked over to me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“We gotta let the team know” He said in a soft voice.

“Yeah yeah I know” I said my voice cracking

Suddenly i got a text on my phone. And it was a picture of Luna and she was tied up and sitting somewhere that I didn’t know.

“Oh my god” was all i could get out

I turned and Josh and started running after him

“What the hell did you do” I yelled.

OA caught me and held me so I didn’t fully attack anyone.

“Nina I’m so sorry” Josh said

“Were going to get her I promise you but this is not the way” OA said.

“Yeah” Was all I could get out.

We walked out after that Josh was yelling in the background and I just blocked it out. I was going to find Luna without him.

I knew Josh was bad but for it bring our daughter down with him was another level. My poor girl all alone out there and scared.

This damn city should be afraid of the hell I was going to give them to find her

#Nina chase #oa zidan #NIna chase imagine #oa zidan imagines #oa zidan imagine #nina and oa #fbi cbs #fbi x reader #FBI imagine #oa zidan one shot #zeeko zaki #shantel vansanten #Nina chase one shot #omar adom zidan #omar zidan

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boxwinebaddie · 9 months

Note

psst! nina! -slides you $20- record store stan and comic book store kyle hanging out on their lunch break…plz 😩🥺💍

excuse me!!!! i am an upstanding law abiding citizen! i would never take a bribe!!!!...but if it somehow ended up on the floor or in my purse while i wasn't looking sahdhdkjs

but bestie i would have done it for free <3 i fucking...Love stan and kyle having edgy boy nerdy boy boyfriend solidarity they're so fkn cute to me oh my god aaaaa

also they work right across the street from each other so they do be shamelessly ogling each other all the time when they're supposed to be working. they also call each other on their work phones all the time and kyle is like "stan i told u not to call me when i'm working!!!!" and stan is like "but i MISSED u!" and hes like "bitch i am literally across the street" and stan is like "so cross the street and give me a big wet sloppy kiss dummy!" shdkjsa

they also totally badly prank call each other which is so funny bc its like I CAN SEE U STUPID!!! and also sometimes jealous kyle calls in like STAN IF YOU DONT TELL THAT BITCH W THE LANA DEL REY ALBUM AND THE BELLY BUTTON PIERCING U HAVE A BOYFRIEND RN IM COMING OVER THERE SHSKHD my hero oh my god!! stan is like ITS FOR HER GIRLFRIEND GENIUS SHE ALSO BOUGHT GIRL IN RED skahsd hes like that man in there tho with all the hair products in his hair!!!! he is not trying to score spiderman hes trying to score ur number sex-c!!! tell him ur closed...also my hero

i am like in the trenches of writer girl hell writing thirteen and trying to put good vibes back into my life so i...unfortunately could not put actions in it ( if u slide me $10 tho...i might consider it ) it's just dialogue but its funny i swear help!!! theyre cute!!!

...i hope this was worth your 20 dollars that ended up mysteriously in my pocket. Please Clap.

*DING!*

“Hey! Welcome to Vinyl Tap! My name is Stan, how may I help you—“

“Yooou know you’re not allowed in here anymore, sir!”

“And why is that…” “Kimberley?” *they never made stan a name tag*

“Because!” “You’re too tall…and good looking. No one will buy anything when you’re in here. They’re too busy looking at you. Me included.”

*stan winks and waves* *kyle rolls his eyes and does a sarcastic twirl*

“And management told me you keep checking out the check out guy at the counter. Absolutely unacceptable behavior.” “You disgust me.” “At least buy me dinner first.”

“I bought you lunch, actually, Asshole.” “Here’s dessert, bitch.” *kyle flips stan off*

“Aw! So sweet, bro! Just for that, you can have a bite.” *stan flips kyle off* “Sorry, your blood sugar looked low.” “And listen, If you’re gonna flip me off at least flip the sign around, you skyscraper! Mmkay?”

“Mmkay.”

“Ooh, ooh, oooooh! What is it?”

“Sniff.”

“NO!”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god?! Is it the super fucking delicious marinated tofu bahn mi from that new vegan Vietnamese food truck that parks next to City Hall? That I’ve been talking about—“

“For weeks. Yes. Please shut the fuck up now.”

“Did you add extr—“

“Extra jalapeño. Obviously, dipshit. I’m surprised you still have working taste buds.”

“Annnnnd—“

“And a Laaaarge Thai tea, sub oat milk. Yeah, yeah, yeahhh, whatever P r i n c e s s.”

“MY KY TEA!”

*holds his orange drink up to his kyles orange head excitedly*

“I totally forgot to pack a lunch earlier and everything! This is going to save my Life. Ugh, Dude, KP! You are LITERALLY the Best!”

*leans across the counter to hug kyle n almost crushes him 2 death*

“I know. And I have several awards and accolades that will back that statement up.”

“Also, I fucking K N E W it!”

“Knew what, motherfucker?”

“That you forgot to take your fucking ADHD medication again!”

“Nooooo…”

“Maaaaaybe…”

“Stan…”

“I know, I know, I knoooooow! I’m sorry! But also, if I am ‘chemically imbalanced’ or whatever and have a hard time remembering shit and focusing, why the fuck would they give me this thing I have to remember to do every morning? Like, it’s just so—“

“Babe.”

“Bro?”

“Food, drink, pill.”

“Fooooood, driiiiink, pillllll~”

*stan is very pleased with his stan-wich*

“Oh my god. D A N K.” “Best lunch EVER. I’m sooooo happy, I could totally k i s s you right now!”

“So kiss me, Dumbass.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

*alexa play pony by ginuwine ;)*

*...did stan jump up on the counter and wrap his legs around kyle's waist...i can neither confirm nor deny these allegaytions ur honor*

“Peppermint.”

“Cherry.”

“Swap?”

“Swap.”

“Cherry.”

“Peppermint.”

“Way better.”

“Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

*kyle pulls back n eyes stan incredulously...and indecently ;)*

“Hold on a second…” “Marsh…”

“Broflovski?”

“Where is the rest of your shirt?”

“Out to lunch?” “Boo! Are you seriously dissing my fit, right now, bro?”

“Your fit would not FIT an eight year old boy!"

“Take it up with Kenny! He did it last night. He said it would help bring in sales.”

“He would say that.” “And what kind? OnlyFans?”

*deflecting and distraught bc...Hot*

“Kyle, c’mon! It’s c u t e!”

“It’s a CROP TOP.”

“It’s fun!”

“It’s INDECENT.”

“You’re staaaaring~” *stan shamelessly teasing kyle vc*

“It stared at me first.” *kp scowl insult combo bc hes nervous rip*

“It’s hot out there!”

“It’s hot IN here.”

“Ooh, say that again.”

“That.”

“Nevermind, I fucking hate you.” *more middle finger*

“I love you too.” *kissy noises*

“Ew, cute.” “But my eyes are up here. Pervert.”

*stan props kyles chin up on his finger so they can make sexually charged eye contact...seek jesus*

“They’re pretty…”

“Pretty weird looking.”

*stan looking crispy because he just got roasted*

“I’M weird looking!? Have you SEEN yourself?”

“Oh, HELL no! I am not taking smoke from a dude with frosted tips wearing low rise jeans and a shirt that looks like it could have been purchased from the junior girls section of Target. All you need is Kenny to tattoo a butterfly tramp stamp on you and you’re good to go, Paris Hilton.”

“And I'M not taking SMOKE from a dude wearing his dorky Cosmic Comic work uniform hat forwards instead of backwards like anyone over the age of 12.”

*stan totally takes his hat off and wears it like a backwards fuckboy snapback, kyle starts choking help sdsjh*

“Basketball shorts and…a Batman baseball tee that looks like it could have been purchased from the junior BOYS section of Target.” “Even if it does make your arms look really good.”

“Really? Ah-ahah. T-Thank you. Your a-arms also—” *nervous kyle stuttering* “Clever diversion tactic, but Stan, do NOT start this fight with me again! I reeeeally do not want to have this fight AGA—“

“Dude, he’s like, not even a Real superhero! He literally BOUGHT his way into being a superhero! He has no superpower! His superpower is being RICH!”

“Bro, so did IRON MAN!”

*cue stan and kyles regular n daily marvel dc fight to the death*

“OKAY! Well, Tony Stark has a wicked sweet robot butler and Bruce Lame-yne just has that weird creepy old guy who should probably have his name on the sex offenders list.”

*kyle absolutely fucking aghast*

“I’m sorry — Did you just refer to Alfred as ‘that weird creepy old guy’?”

“—Who probably wants to diddle little boys, but yes, that’s exactly what I said, Kyle!”

*eye twitches in rabid comic book boy*

“…And are you implying that Jarvis is cooler than ALFRED?!”

“I am not just implying that information…”

“I am d e l i n e a t i n g it to you.”

*stan using his english hw vocab rizz like kyle look look i studied*

“Mwah.”

*stan flabbergasted dramatic boy sounds*

“EXCUSE ME!!!! DID YOU JUST THROW MY KISS IN THE TRASH!?!?”

*he shoooooots, he scooooores*

“No, I threw in it in recycling because I know you’re a hoe for the environment.”

*stan abt to ask kyle to help him find something in the stock room...i really hope its the bible*

“…Okay, w-wowz—Jesus Christ. Ky, you know it’s seriously so hot to me when you recycle responsibly, but..."

*rizzed stan so hard oh my god hes blushin omg is it hot in here*

“Hope you heal from being a DC dickrider.”

“And I hope you heal from gargling Marvel’s balls.”

“Y’know, I still cannot believe you don’t like Batman, Stan. Like you are literally a DICK GRAYSON variant!”

“Woah, you said Dick with a loooot of confidence. Watch out; people might think you’re gaaaa—“

*kyle mad as hell bc he got dusted by his sbbf*

“Yeah, very funny, Stan. It’ll be way funnier when I bury this shithole on Yelp when I accuse you of a hate crime.”

“Okay, concept: hear me out. No hate crimes, just…” “Date Time?”

*stan vana white hand flourish w the emo boy rings*

“How about…we call you in some chicken strips, curly fries an—“

“CANIHAVEACHER—“

*absolutely feral diabetes boy behavior*

“Yes, oh my goood, you fucking FIEND…You can have a cherry coke. But…BUT! it has to be MEDIUM, KP! M e d i u m! Last time you had a large you got totally cracked out on liquid candy carbonation and started talking CRAZY. Like, you literally sounded like a cult leader. I thought you were going to start having religious visions and shit; it was scary.”

*stan shiny eyes emoji*

“Then…can we pleaaaase eat at the pond?! Please, please, please? I bought a mason jar full of oats in my backpack so I could feed the ducks! The little ones are soooo cut—“

“You remembered a lunch for the DUCKS and not yourself?!” “Ugh, and Stan, I HATE Stark’s Pon—“

*three fingers in the air assistant troop leader stan vc scouts honor*

“I promise to protect you from children, frisbees, the elderly, unpredictable water fowl and people with petitions…Do we have a deal, Kyle Pile?”

*oh no not the eyelash flutter...its super effective*

“…If one of those sick, feathered fucks bites me or shits on me, I’m turning that pond into duck soup.”

“YAY!” “Okay, let’s go. Hold my hand?”

“Stan, are you five years old?”

*stanley marsh signature pout...ur litrally proving his point bff*

“Kyle, you KNOW crossing the street freaks me out.” “Now hold my freaking hand, Assface!”

*aw romance*

“Wooooow, trying so hard to hold my hand. Watch out; people might think you’re gaaaa—“

*stan like five centimeters away from kyles mouth*

“…P l e a s e, baby?”

*more extremely nervous flustered kyle stuttering*

“I—W-whatever.” “There, happy?”

“Extremely.”

“Your hands are sweaty.”

“You make me nervous.”

*bebe vc* And Scene ;)

#aw...true love #bestie im sorry this is not my finest work but i hope u laugh thank u for buying me lunch #SPEAKING OF BUYING PEOPLE LUNCH kyle remembering stans crunchy boy lil lunch order...AW STAN CALLING KYLE HIS KY TEA LIKE PLS #idk why i put stan in a crop top but also i know he looked good kyle was mad as hell and wanted to makeout abt it smh #they really do b bickering like an old married couple #THEY HAVE THE DC MARVEL FIGHT EVERY DAMN DAY ITS SO UNSERIOUS #them being like damn thats pretty gay bro watch it bro people might think ur gay bro #my sons...who i raised...myself...with sharon and shelia...amen...<3 #THEM DOING THE MMKAY CALL AND RESPONSE IS LIKE THEIR RUNNING INSIDE JOKE #kyle talks abt recycling and stans like im going to do terrible and obscene things to u in the stock room...smh

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countessofravenclaw · 6 months

Text

I am having fun with this chapter, so have another snippet:

“Look,” Nina showed her own notebook to Luna, “The way you calculate the amount of substance is by looking at the balanced reaction equation. The relation between the compounds is the same. If you know one, you know the other. Plus, you have too much oxygen on the product side so the numbers are off.”

“Oh,” Luna tilted her head while looking at her calculations, “Right… How are you so good at all of this?”

“I’m not good at everything,” Nina shrugged, “I just manage. Some come naturally, some don’t. Physics for example, it’s not easy for me all the time. I have been needing help with some of the things this year.”

“Who has been helping you?” Luna questioned, “Because it has not been me. I suck at chemistry, but it’s not like I am any better at the other sciences.”

“Gastón has been helping me,” Nina smiled, “He has such a mind for physics and mathematics in general. He’s also amazing at teaching, has been way more patient than someone else would be with me and my thousand stupid questions… but he also loves me so… Actually, the things we had today in physics, I need to ask him about those. The new teacher is not helping at all. I miss Mr. Cretá.”

“I think Mrs. Ìlko is sweet,” Luna rolled her eyes slightly, “But I didn’t get any of it either. Have you told Gastón that you’re here?”

“Not yet,” Nina smiled again. In her personal, absolutely biased, opinion, she really loved the whole set up. Now that Luna was also here, she was able to see Gastón so much more often, given that she now spent most of her time with either one of them when they weren’t at Roller.

She sometimes didn’t always let Gastón know when she was there, because she loved the surprised look on his face when she showed up in his room unannounced. If he thought her being jumpy, she thought him being surprised was extremely cute. And when he was so happy to see her, it always just did something to her.

“I still don’t get what difference do molecular and normal mass have?” Luna was leafing through their chemistry book, “I barely even know what those words mean—”

“We need to talk about this at some point.” They turned around as they started hearing voices coming behind the kitchen door that faced the living room. Nina recognized the voice at once to be Isla’s.

“Yeah, at some point—” another voice responded. It was Gastón. “—which is not now.”

“You need to start thinking about all of this.”

“And how do you know that I haven’t? You can’t see inside my head, can you?”

Nina didn’t know what they were talking about, but Gastón was clearly agitated.

“This is important for you, for your future. You know that we think…”

“Yes, I know what you think,” She could practically hear him rolling his eyes, “It’s all you ever talk about. But it’s my decision, and I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“You can’t just avoid the subject forever. Your father and I have an appointment we need to get to, but we will need to talk about this after.”

“Great… Then go.”

“You’d really think there would be better soundproofing in this place,” Luna said looking around after the voices stopped.

“Most of the rooms do,” Nina responded… She kept replaying the conversation in her head. “I’m sorry, I have to go talk to him, see what that was all about.” Nina got up from the table, “Gastón and Isla don’t usully fight like that...”

“Okay,” Luna nodded, “It’s not like all of homework is going anywhere…and my brain is alredy fried. I need a break, so I might raid the fridge.”

Yes, The plot is being moved forward by the kitchen in Gastón's house not having soundproofing... As I have said before, I can't just cut the Oxford stuff, but I can make it make more sense and cut the frustraring part. Since Nina is hanging out more at Gastón due to Luna, she has more direct access to be able to just talk to him directly, instead off wallowing in her head about a form that she saw and stringing a narrative on her head which won't even be the real case. So we have communication and opportunities for it.

#soy lun #soy luna fanfiction

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bey0nd-1he-stars · 2 years

Text

Take care - Wylan Van Eck

𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

Pairing: Wylan Van Eck x platonic!reader

Warnings: wounds, hurt crows, crying

Wordcount: 1330

Summary: After a heist, 4 of 7 crows come back hurt. And as Wylan helps you get patched up, he has a hard time holding it together.

It had been a rough heist. It had succeeded, but not everyone had came out of there whole. Inej had gotten a stab wound in the arm, Kaz had taken a hit to his already bad knee, and Nina had taken a bullet in the leg. It was just a scratch but it still looked nasty and she couldn’t walk alright. You weren’t very badly hurt, just a few scratches, a few knives had managed to cut your skin open at a few places and your head was pounding after Kaz needed to push you into a wall, head first, to save you from a bullet between your eyes. Wylan, Jesper and Matthias were alright, just a bit shaken up.

As you pushed yourselves though the door to the slat Matthias spoke up,”I’ll go help Nina.” His voice was low but the others nodded. Inej took off up the stairs to treat her wound. Kaz started going for the stairs as well but his leg wasn’t really cooperating.

“I’ll come help you, Inej, I’m just gonna help Kaz up the stairs,” he shouted after her and Inej gave him a thankful nod. Kaz threw him a glare but accepted his help when Jesper reached him. Wylan turned to you, his eyes flying over your bloody body and taking in all the wounds.

“Come on, I’ll help you with that,” he said, took your hand in his and started dragging you up the stairs behind him.

“Thanks, we can take my room,” you breathed out and gave Wylan a soft smile. You unlocked your door and pushed it open and walked in, letting Wylan close the door behind him.

“Let’s take the bathroom,” he said after watching you peel your jacket off, following it with his gaze as you threw it on the bed. He didn’t want to see how many wounds would cover your body, but he knew he couldn’t abandon you and let you stitch yourself up. The two of you walked in to the bathroom and you carefully hoped up to sit on the counter. Wylan placed a few cotton balls, alcohol, bandages and thread and needle on the counter beside you. You watched his mop of blind curls as he worked, seeing how he avoided to meet your eyes or even look at you.

"Wylan, I'm not that badly hurt. You can look at me, you know?" you stated softly and lifted a hand to pull away a few curls that had fallen in his eyes. Wylan stood up straight and met your gaze. His blue eyes were lined with tears and your gaze softened at the sight. Wylan tried to blink them away but instead they started to fall, rolling softly down his cheeks. He quickly whipped them away but more started to fall just as fast.

“I’m sorry I’m crying, I just-“ Wylan spoke up breathlessly and turned his gaze towards the roof to prevent more tears from falling. You smiled softly at him and took his hand in yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He met your gaze again, giving you a weak smile as he whipped his eyes with his free hand. "I don't like seeing you hurt. Any of you. And you're like my sister, and I love you. I just can't bear to see you hurt. And today Inej, Kaz and Nina also got hurt it just... it became a bit too much, I guess," he explained softly, his eyes not meeting yours. They were fixed on your intertwined hands, your thumb softly stroking over his knuckles. He let out a shaky breath and shook his head softly,"I should get you stitched up," he mumbled and turned towards the pile of cotton balls he'd placed on the counter beside you.

You winced slightly when he cleaned a particularly big gash under your collarbone. Wylan paused his actions, waiting for you to tell him to continue. You bit your lip and gave him a firm nod. He glanced up on you before continuing with his job. But he couldn't help but notice how your hands gripped the counter 'til your knuckles turned white. He noticed how your body was stiff and how you bit your lip until it almost started bleeding. And the tears started to blur his vision again. His hands shook and he decided that he probably couldn't get your wound any cleaner without messing something up. It wasn’t necessary to get it stitched but Wylan decided to at least tape it, just in case. But cutting the tape was suddenly very complicated. The thought about loosing the crows haunted him. And the sight of you infront of him, with bleeding wounds and pain rushing through your body, it almost gave him a panic attack. He didn’t realise that he’d frozen in place until your hands rested upon his shoulders, shaking him slightly.

”Wylan? Are you okay?” you squeezed his shoulders, bending down a bit to meet his gaze. With a clinking sound, the tape and the scissors in his hands fell to the floor. He gave you a faint nod as answer to your question and bent down to pick up the things.

”Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m fine,” he said, nodding a bit more convincing and returning to cutting the small tape bits. You looked up to give hims access to your wound easier and Wylan’s careful, but shaking, hands delicately placed the tape over your wound, helping it close itself.

"There," Wylan mumbled and carefully stroke his fingers over the newly taped wound. With gentle fingers you titled Wylan's head up to meet your gaze. The tears were gone but the same expression still rested over his features.

"What is it, Wylan? What bothers you, hm?" you pushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen in his eyes. Wylan stayed quiet for a moment before answering. The tears started to gather in his eyes again and he furiously swept them away before they even managed to fall. Then he spoke up, voice soft and carefully but still filled with emotions.

"I can't loose you. Any of you. Wether it'd be Kaz or Inej, Matthias or Nina, or you or Jesper. Today, I know neither of you actually died, but you're hurt and just hurts to see," tears fell from his, now dark blue, eyes and you cupped his cheeks with careful hands and whipped the tears with your thumbs. "I'm sorry I'm crying, you're the one who got hurt, not me," he gave away a weak laugh and met your eyes, resting his hand upon yours on his cheek.

"It's okay, you know. It's okay to care, Wy," you smiled reassuring and bent forward to press a kiss on his hairline. Wylan fell into your embrace and let himself bury his head in the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped themselves around your waist, hugging you tight. He let out a huff, hot air fanning over your neck.

"Thank you," he mumbled. You almost didn't catch it. The smile on your face grew wider, "for what?" you wondered out loud.

"For not judging me. Or thinking that I am... well, anything bad."

"You're our Wylan, I love that you are, and I love who you are. Don't think that I could ever even think a bad thought about you," you pulled away slightly from the hug to be able to meet his eyes. His gaze darted to your wound but you promised him that you were fine. He gave you a thankful nod and helped you down from the counter you'd been sitting on.

"Let's go check up on the others. I'm worried about Kaz's leg," you mumbled the last part to yourself, but Wylan heard it. He gave you a teasing smile, threw his arm around your shoulders as you made your way out of the room, and said:

"It's okay to care, you know. Or what was it that you said?"

#wylan van eck x reader #wylan van eck #soc wylan #wylan van sunshine #wylan hendriks #six of crows imagine #six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #shadow and bone #jack wolfe #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #jesper fahey x wylan van eck #seven of nine #matthias helvar #shadow and bone imagine

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parkersbliss · 3 years

Text

My Reason | K. Brekker

pairing: kaz brekker x female reader

warnings: cursing? maybe slightly out of character?

wc; 2k

synopsis: kaz brekker makes a desperate attempt to protect you, but it backfires for both parties

prompts: 015: “You’re everywhere I go!” 020: “I just wanted you to be happy.”

a/n: kaz brekker: *breathes* me: I LOVE YOU YOUVE DONE NOTHING WRONG MY SWEET CHILD

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

—

You felt like crying.

Scratch that. You were going to cry.

You were going to cry and possibly throw something, anything. You wanted to grab a knife and chuck it at the wall repeatedly until there was a hole.

You wanted the wall to feel the same pain as you.

Like there was a hole in it.

Ironic.

Kaz Brekker, dirtyhands, the bastard of the barrel, shattered your heart. And he probably didn’t even know it or cared.

Kaz only cared, for one thing, money. You couldn’t blame him for that. Money was something necessary in Ketterdam. You needed money to stay alive and above the rest.

But money also puts a sign on your head. A big red blinking sign that probably says something like “big kill, big money.”

You weren’t stupid. You were very well aware of how big of a sign Kaz had on his head. Plenty of people wanted his head on a spike. You almost want to add yourself to the list.

“What?” You asked, voice small.

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

Kaz doesn’t bother to look at you. His eyes stay trained at his desk, filing through paperwork for the slat. He scribbles on them, whether it be a signature or a check.

“I don’t understand.”

“I’ve made myself clear.”

“No.”

“I’m not asking.”

“I don’t want to.”

“(Y/N), this isn’t up for debate.”

“Well, it should be! I should be allowed to have a say in this.”

“You don’t get one!” Kaz said harshly, finally meeting your eyes. “Out.”

You want to refuse, sit there and scream at him for the rest of the night. But you can’t. Kaz Brekker won either way. It doesn’t matter if you sat in his office the rest of the night and argued. His say was final. You would only be denying the inevitable by fighting.

You stand up, blinking through the tears forming in your eyes. The words slip past your lips before you even realize.

“I hate you.”

You slam the door shut behind you, missing the way Kaz’s face drops, and his pen explodes from the force of his grip.

He had kicked you out like that. Stripped you of everything you are. One mission gone wrong, and you were booted back onto the streets of Ketterdam.

He had kicked you from the Dregs.

It wasn’t even your fault. You didn’t understand his reasoning. You got shot, and the next thing you know, as soon as you've recovered, you’re alone.

And honestly, if Pekka Rollins himself asked you to murder Kaz, you just might. The Dregs weren't a gang; they were a family. They were home to you.

A home that you hadn’t had in a while, but it wasn’t just the Dregs. It was Kaz Brekker. The bastard of the barrel was also the person that held your heart in his hands. He was the person you went to at midnight when you didn’t know what else to do.

He was the person that listened to you.

He was your person.

But you weren’t his.

You grabbed the knife off the table and throw it as hard as you can at the wall.

You miss.

You grab the knife, wiping away the tears blurring your vision, and aim again. This time it lands in the wall. You clutch it and throw it again.

And again.

…

The Crow Club is still as lively as ever as you walk past it. You contemplate going inside, but you know better. A shadow catches your eye behind you, but there’s no one out here but you.

And yet, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. Then again, any member of the Dregs was constantly being watched.

You shrugged it off.

Work was easy to find in a place like Ketterdam. It was also easy as one of the top assassins. You busied yourself in easy missions with easy targets.

It was the one thing in your life that remain stable. It was after one of these missions while cleaning your knife, did you see her.

“Inej?”

The said girl steps out of the shadows, silent as ever, and pulls down her face covering. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

“The same thing as you.”

You use your knife to gesture to the dead man on the floor, and she nods.

“Looks like I beat you to it,” You joke, tucking your knife away and rolling your shoulders.

“It would appear so.”

You want to ask how everything is, and despite every bone in your body, how Kaz is.

But instead, you turn around to leave.

“We miss you,” Inej blurts.

You freeze, letting your shoulders fall. “I miss you guys, too.”

“He’s an idiot.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.”

Inej nods, stepping back into the shadows, and you leave, an aching in your heart.

But that wasn’t the last time you ran into Inej. You saw her everywhere after that and nowhere at the same time. At first, you didn’t mind, but then it became unsettling.

You felt like you were being watched in your own home, but there was no one. It was hard to explain. You always saw her in town, but the feeling of being watched couldn’t be shaken when you got home.

You didn’t know how to explain it. You wanted to call her out on it, but you said nothing.

Until you did catch her in your house.

You let her off with a warning by throwing a knife into her corner. It was never going to hit her, neither of you would allow it, but she stepped out after that.

You raise an eyebrow at her. “What are you doing?”

“Checking on you.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m just looking out-”

“You’re everywhere I go!” You shout, “Everywhere, Inej. If you wanted to look out for me, you could use the door and ask!”

“I’m sorry,” The Suli girl said.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing. You feel bad for yelling at her. Inej was one of your closest friends, and she was only looking out for you. “Inej, it’s fine I just-”

“It’s Kaz.”

“Kaz?” You question, voice softening.

“He wants to know that you’re okay, and not dead. Every time you go on a mission, he sends me as unofficial backup.”

“I can take care of myself. If he’s so worried about my safety, he shouldn’t have kicked me out in the first place," You snap.

“Maybe you should tell him that.”

You turn to face Inej, but when you do, she’s gone.

Kaz? This was his doing? You didn’t believe her, but you also knew she wouldn’t lie. You sit on the edge of your bed, staring out the window. Kaz wants to know if you’re okay.

Kaz Brekker, the man that kicked you from the Dregs wants to make sure you’re okay. The thought should be comforting, but it’s more infuriating to you. At first, you thought maybe he had changed his mind, but this was worse. He didn't trust you to take care of yourself or respect you in the slightest.

You were angry at him. You didn’t understand why, and he refused to tell you. He was so stuck up, thinking that keeping his feelings from others would make him appear stronger.

But the strongest thing anyone can do is admit them.

You stand up, grabbing your knife from the wall and tucking it into your belt.

There was someone you needed to see.

It’s bitter cold outside, biting and chilling. It forces you to walk faster towards the Slat. No one questions you when you walk in; it’s normal to them.

In fact, they look happy to see you.

Jesper’s eyes light up, and he goes to hug you, but Wylan pulls him back.

“That’s her pissed-off face.”

“I would wear earplugs if I were you,” Nina warns, “(Y/N) doesn’t back down from a fight and certainly not with Kaz.”

You make no comment and step past them, making your way up to his office.

You don’t bother knocking and throw open the door, eyes blazing.

Kaz’s head snaps up from his work, equally pissed that someone dared to open his door without permission, but then his eyes soften.

“You’re supposed to knock first, you know that,” Kaz said sharply.

You roll your eyes, slamming the door behind you. Nina smirks as she sits with the other crows outside the door, all wearing earplugs to reduce the sound of your screaming that's bound to come.

“I don’t care about your petty rules, Brekker.”

Venom drips from your voice, and Kaz sets down his pen, leaning back in his chair. “Is there something you want?”

“An explanation.”

“I can’t offer you that.”

“Kaz, you promised.”

His lip twitches ever so slightly at that.

“You promised me this. We made a deal. And Kaz Brekker goes through with all his deals.”

Kaz is silent. He’s at a loss for words. Dirtyhands did not have the upper hand here, and it seemed he was finally stunned.

“You can’t just send Inej out to watch over me after you kicked me out, okay? If you don’t have an explanation, at least let me live the rest of my life without you watching over.”

Nothing.

You sigh, pushing the tears back, ready to make your way out of the slat for the last time, but then he speaks. His voice is raspier than usual but soft, almost like a whisper.

“I just wanted you to be happy.”

“Happy?” You scoff. “Why would that ever make me happy?”

“It was a way out.”

“Out of what, Kaz?”

“This!” He shouts, standing up and gesturing to the walls around you both. “This lifestyle of doing the dirty work to survive and always having a sum of money plastered on your forehead.”

“I don’t want out!”

“It was a way for you to escape…. to escape me.”

There’s silence as you process his words. You wanted to be angry at Kaz and continue to lash out at him, but you understand. He had given you your reason, and you're damned because it's a good one.

But you didn't want to escape him. Kaz was the only reason you stayed in Ketterdam; he was the thing that kept you grounded here. He was your person.

“Why would I ever want that?”

“You hate me.”

You shake your head, “Kaz-”

He cuts you off, switching topics. “This lifestyle isn’t meant for you.”

“It’s not meant for any of us.”

“I gave you a chance.”

“You gave me a reason.”

“A reason?”

Kaz waits for an answer, but you’re afraid to give it. The hardest thing anyone can do is admit their feelings. And you're unsure if you're strong enough to face them.

Kaz Brekker was stone cold, and you don't know if he'd drop the facade, even for you.

“You are the reason I deal with this lifestyle,” You finally said, voice barely above a whisper as you feel the weight lift from your shoulders. “Because it’s worth it. You are worth it.”

“I am not worth anything,” Kaz dismissed.

“Kaz Rietveld, you are worth everything to me.”

The boy freezes, and you take a step forward, placing your hand inches from his. Your heart beats madly in your chest, and you feel like you're suffocating as you wait for an answer, a reaction, anything. You expect him to pull away, but he doesn't. He stares at your hand inches from his on his desk.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” You said.

His eyes meet yours, and you can see the fear in them. His hands are shaky, but he manages to take yours in them. He still wears his gloves, and your hands are just barely resting on top of his, but it means enough to you.

“You’re worth everything to me,” he repeats back to you.

Your heart bursts in your chest as Kaz squeezes your hand lightly. The action means everything to you.

Nina screams in triumph with the rest of the crows outside the door.

You and Kaz laugh, still holding his hand.

And at that moment, you know, you are his everything, and he is yours.

#AYE FIRST KAZ ONE SHOT #I LOVE IT SM #FREDDYS EYES 😩#this gif is my will to live #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #soc kaz #six of crows #six of crows imagine #shadow and bone #grishaverse #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker one shot #kaz brekker imagine #crooked kingdom

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

My King

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: burns, violence, injuries

Author’s Note: This was so cute omg, I hope you enjoy love!

Requested; by anon, Hi love I absolutely adore your writing and I was wondering if you could request the ‘who did this to you trope’ with Nikolai please Thank you

Summary: the request!

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Nikolai Lantsov, King of Ravka, was the only man in this world that could make you actually visibly flustered. Boy did he love that. He used it to his advantage whenever he could and even managed to make you laugh here and there.

You stood behind him, looking down at his radiant blonde hair. You brushed through it carefully, making sure there were no tangles. He looked at you through the mirror and you pretended not to notice.

“You have to talk more with the suitors today,” you muttered, focused on combing through his hair.

“No I don’t,” he said. “I’ve picked my Queen.” You rolled your eyes. He caught it and couldn’t help but smile softly.

“I can’t be Queen Nikolai.” You met his eyes through the reflection. He looked effortlessly handsome, though he always did. You were always amazed at his stunning looks. Nikolai was a regal man and if nothing else, looked like he was fit to be a King.

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because I’m not royal.” You put your hands on his shoulders and leaned down, tilting your head to see him face to face. He met your gaze, that charming look in his eyes. “And you won’t get any prospects from being with me. You won’t get any money. You won’t get any land. You’ll get only me and that is not enough.”

“It’s plenty!” he protested. “I don’t need land or money or prospects. I just need you.” You shook your head and turned around, walking over to his bed. You handed him the clothing that his people had picked out for him to wear.

“No you want me. Ravka needs someone suited for the job.” Nikolai hated when you brought Ravka into this. If he was a low servant boy the two of you would have been married ages ago. He stood and turned around, holding his clothing in his hand.

“I will convince you.”

“No you won’t,” you muttered absentmindedly. “I have to call Genya to get things prepared for next week. You get dressed.”

“I won’t get married to anyone else.”

“We can have an affair on the side, will that make you happy?”

“No. I will not produce a bastard and make our child suffer the way I have,” he grumbled. You met his eyes kindly.

“Who says I want children with you?”

“You can’t keep your hands off me, I’m fairly certain your actions betray your words.” You rolled your eyes and put your hand on his chest as you walked past.

“Get dressed Nikolai. I’ll be with Genya if you need me.”

You left the room and he was left alone with his mind and his clothes. He stared at the door for a second, shaking his head. He knew that you were right. He knew that you understood this situation better than most. But he also knew that as long as you were alive, he could never love another person. He didn’t want to and he didn’t need to. You would make a wonderful Queen.

He would convince you one day, he was sure of it.

====

Genya held a clipboard in her hand. You wondered briefly if she had different colors to match what she wanted to go for that day. You almost never saw her without some sort of planning ability.

“I wish you would just marry him, save us all the trouble,” Genya said softly. You rolled your eyes.

“Trust me, if I could I would.”

“You’re completely able. You aren’t repulsed by him like some of the women coming. You aren’t his cousin, you aren’t underage. You’re both in love and that should be enough.”

“It’s enough for him. Not enough for Ravka.” You let out a small sigh and was about to say something else when a guard entered the room. You raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t announced himself or anything which was unusual. You are one of the closest to the King and usually was shown that respect. But this man looked very worried.

“There’s a Grisha at the gates, demanding to come in.”

“Do you know who it is?” you asked. He shook his head. You pursed your lips and spared Genya a glance. You were a very talented Heartrender and could use your power for defense if necessary. “What kind of Grisha?”

“Inferni.” You let out a soft sigh. That wasn’t great news.

“Should I find Zoya?” Genya asked. You shook your head.

“Zoya isn’t in Ravka.” She was out with Nina, hopelessly spying on others. She had protested quite often but you made her go. She could do good out there and could come back to lead her post later. You turned to the guard. “Come.”

===

You didn’t bother stopping to tell Nikolai. You could handle this yourself, you were sure. It was one Grisha. You had fought plenty before. You could handle one Inferni. You did wish you hadn’t told Zoya to go though. She was much more powerful than you.

You reached the gates and saw the fire immediately. Your few Tidemakers were doing their best to battle the flames but the Inferni looked skilled. You wondered if they were a member of the Second Army before the war.

You saw him standing at the edge of the gates.

“Let me see the King!” he yelled at the guards, shooting flames aimlessly. You focused, slowing his heart rate at your will. He looked frightened as he realized what was happening to him. You approached cautiously.

“The King is busy today,” you said. He clutched his chest. “Can I help you?”

“I want…” he breathed heavily, “to kill the King.” You shook your head.

“That isn’t going to happen today.” He looked up at you and before you knew it he had shot a ball of fire in your direction. It knocked you down, causing you to lose your focus. Pain flew to your limbs as you put the fire out. You raised your hand to him and crippled him down to his knees more harshly this time. You took the air from his lungs, your own body singed and smoking as you did so. You guestered to a Tidemaker and some guards. “Take him.”

They did as they were told, dragging him to the dungeon. He gasped for air until he was out of your sight.

You sat in the courtyard for a moment, reveling in your pain. No one approached you for a moment, unsure if you were able to stand on your own or not. You wobbled to your feet and guestered to a guard.

“Send for Genya Safin.”

“Should I get the King?” the guard asked.

“Saints no,” you breathed.

You walked back inside the castle and soon enough saw Genya rushing towards you. Her eyes went wide in horror.

“Why didn’t you ask for a Healer?” she exclaimed.

“I wanted you to take me there,” you breathed, laughing gently. She held you up and started to walk towards the nearest Healer when you saw Nikolai coming down the stairs, a guard trailing after him. He ran up to you, putting his arms around your waist and holding you up. Genya let you go into his grasp. Your eyes narrowed on the guard. “You disobeyed me.”

“He insisted on knowing whenever you were hurt,” the guard said quietly. You shook your head.

“Who did this to you?” Nikolai almost growled. You tried not to think of the monster inside him as he spoke in an animalistic tone.

“Inferni at the gates.”

“You should have called for help.”

“I can handle myself.” He turned to Genya.

“Take her to the Healers, I’m going to see this Inferni.” You gave him a look as he put you back into her care.

“Nikolai don’t do anything stupid unprotected,” you muttered, wincing in pain.

“He’ll get what's coming to him,” Nikolai muttered as he walked away from you.

====

The Healers tended to your wounds quickly and were able to avoid having any serious burns. You had gotten lucky. Nikolai was right though, you should have sent for help. You rested in your room, bandages over your various injuries.

The door opened without a knock which meant it was no one but Nikolai. You looked over at him.

“What did you do?” you asked evenly. He quickly sat at your side, grabbing your hand in his. He leaned forward and brushed your hair out of your face.

“He will be tried for high treason.”

“He didn’t commit high treason. He can’t even be tried for an assasination attempt, he never got close to you.” Nikolai smiled slyly and met your eyes.

“First off, I’m the King and I get to say who is tried with high treason. Second off, it was not an assassination attempt on the King of Ravka, it was however an assassination attempt on the future Queen of Ravka.” You went completely silent for a few moments, his words hanging in the air.

“You didn’t tell him that, did you?”

“I did. In fact, I told Genya to stop planning for the suitors' arrival next week.” He paused for dramatic effect. “Then I told her to get an official announcement prepared.”

“Nikolai-”

“Be quiet for a moment,” he said, meeting your eyes. “You got rather lucky today. You’re very lucky actually that you happened to be at the castle where there are the best Healers around. If you hadn’t been, your burns could have been much worse and you could have died.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Shh!” He cleared his throat. “I won’t lose you. You are the most fit to be Queen and we will secure the Lantsov line with our children.”

“I’m Grisha thou-”

“Darling, if you interrupt me one more time I will poke an injury.” You smiled a bit and rolled your eyes. “My decision is final. I am your King and I have made my choice.” He paused. “If you’ll have me.” You had a feeling that he was telling you the truth. There was no way to talk him out of this. Truth be told, you wanted nothing more than to marry him. You had wanted it since the moment he laid eyes on you. You closed your eyes for a moment and shook your head, laughing gently.

“Fine. Yes, Nikolai, I will marry you.” A bright smile went over his face as he clapped his hands together and then turned to you, kissing you gently. You moaned in pain and he pulled away.

“I’m sorry. Just excited. Oh Genya is going to love this. She’ll have a ball planning our wedding. Oh and I have so many ideas for the honeymoon, you’re going to love it.” You grabbed his hand and couldn’t help but feel equally excited.

“We can talk more about it in the morning. Right now, I’m exhausted.”

“Oh yes of course. Scoot over.”

“Nikolai, you have things to do today.”

“Scoot.” You rolled your eyes and did as you were told. He laid on the bed beside you, putting his arm around your shoulder. You rested your head on his chest.

“Goodnight my darling,” he whispered, kissing your forehead.

“Goodnight my King.”

Grishaverse Tag List: @elisaa-shelby

@chameleon-junkie

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagines #grishaverse imagines

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jungkxook · 4 years

Text

—stay. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader

⟶ genre: popstar!jungkook x groupie!reader + smut / sprinkle of angst and fluff

⟶ words: 8,083

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you but the fact that you’re sleeping with two of his band mates too makes things a tad bit complicated.

⟶ warnings: multiple smut scenes, slight dom themes, oral sex, finger sucking oops, boob fondling, hair pulling ft. jungkook’s undercut, doggy style, missionary, thigh riding, spitting, jealous kook!!, unprotected sex, kind of slight possessive themes? but also just general sweetness tbh

⟶ disclaimer: my time jungkook still has me in my feels! also, this is a repost of an old fic on an old blog.

“Stay with me?”

Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. It’s just that, lying there with you on the hotel room bed, there’s no other place he’d rather be ━ and there’s no one else he’d rather experience the moment with than you. Legs tangled together on top of the duvet with your fingers tracing circles onto his bare chest, Jungkook swears he’s in love with you ━ only, you’re not his to have.

“I have to go,” You pout, though your fingers continue drawing constellations on his skin, treading down his arm and over the tattoos that adorn him. You’re focusing now on the lily on his forearm, around and around, sending his head spiralling. “Promised my friends we could hang out today. Besides, don’t you have Mina or Nina━” You wave your hand in the air to dismiss the thought━ “coming over soon?”

“Who?” It takes him a moment to even remember who you’re talking about. Truthfully, he hasn’t seen that girl in well over six months but he’d never tell you that. In fact, he hasn’t been seeing anyone else other than you but he would definitely never tell you that. “Oh, yeah. Well, I think she’s coming over later tonight.”

“Well━” You trail off, and Jungkook knows it’s because you’re stalling. You want to stay, and he knows it well enough, but every question you ask him is just meant to further reassure you that it’s okay if you stay. That he wants you to. “Aren’t you busy with work today before the second show?”

Jungkook shrugs. “We still have lots of time before the day starts.”

You shake your head at him but he knows he ultimately wins out when you start to smile to yourself. You prop yourself up beside him and he has to admire momentarily how you’ve never been timid in front of him when you’re naked. His hand reaches out to brush his fingers against your cheek and you smile down at him. But then something seems to dawn on him that he can’t believe he foolishly hadn’t thought of first.

“Unless… Unless you need to see one of them soon.”

“Who?”

“Taehyung or Namjoon.” It takes all he can muster to say their names without a trace of bitterness. He lifts himself up on his elbow. “Are you still seeing them?”

You shrug innocently. Sitting up a little straighter, you brush his hand away and fidget with your hair. “Would it matter if I was?”

Yes, he wants to scream but he refrains. “No. I just━” he stops. “Just curious. Is that what you meant by work then? You have to go see Tae or something right after me? ”

“No, you prick.” He’s relieved you giggle at him, fingers poking at his chest despite the fact that he was mentally cursing himself for being a dick the minute the words left his mouth. “Believe it or not, I do have a life outside of sex. Friends, too.”

“I know, I know,” he says sheepishly. “Sorry, I━ I know. You said you wanted to go shopping downtown before the show tonight, right? One of your friends ━ Dahyun ━ goes to school in the next city over and she’s taking the day off to see you. I do listen when you talk, y’know?”

He doesn’t miss the warm smile that spreads across your face. You finally return to him, kissing him slow and steadily. In the meantime, he flips you over onto your back and then parts from you much to your dismay. He’s nestled himself between your legs in an instant, kissing up your thigh and sending shivers down your spin. Your hand flies down to twine your fingers in his hair, now much longer than usual.

“I guess I could stay a little longer, if you’d want me to,” You say.

“I do.”

He wastes no time in swiping his tongue at your folds, his mouth wrapping perfectly around you. You’re already mewling with delight. That’s all it ever is with the two of you. Sex and more sex. And while Jungkook isn’t complaining, he sure does wish he could just have more of you. Jungkook burrows a little deeper, his nose rubbing against your clit as he eats you out.

“Morning sex does sound nice,” You manage to say, breath shaking.

“Yeah,” he rasps against you. “It does, doesn’t it?”

Your thighs are already threatening to squeeze shut around his head, fingers tightening in their hold. His own hands find purchase on your waist, stretching outward to hold on to you, and nothing can break you both apart. Not even the muffled sound of rapid knocking on the front door of the too grand hotel room. At least, not the first two times. On the third time when it’s followed by the sound of Jungkook’s manager irritably calling out through the flimsy wood panel, does Jungkook groan into your cunt and poke his head upward, craning his neck to look over his shoulder as his manager’s voice carries infuriatingly loudly to you both once again.

“Get up already, will you? We’ve got several business meetings to conduct today and we haven’t got time for you to sleep off a hangover or whatever it is you’re doing━”

“Gimme ‘til noon!” Jungkook asserts gruffly. He settles himself back between your thighs, and you surely don’t miss the devious way he smirks just before burrowing his head into your heat. There’s an inaudible sound that he makes, that you and certainly his manager can distinguish as being, “I’m too busy right now.”

Busy is an understatement, pointedly made clear when his tongue delves into you, lapping at your leaking wetness as if he were terribly quenched and only you could save him. You don’t think Jungkook taking his morning to eat you out is a good enough excuse that will run over well with his manager later in the day, but it drives him away for now with only a grumbled chorus of words left in his wake. But the silence only lasts for so long. Just as Jungkook is getting comfortable once more, you speak up.

“I don’t think tardiness is a very good quality to have as a celebrity,” You ponder aloud through a heavily pleased sigh.

“Ah, or it’s exactly the thing I need,” he counters with a shit-eating grin. “Being late is a very celebrity thing, isn’t it?”

“When the fame gets to their head,” You snort. Your voice splinters off into a whimper as he tilts his chin up a little higher, lapping deeper into you.

“Then I guess I’m bad.” His voice murmurs against you, rattling you to the bone.

“You’re definitely far from bad. Everyone thinks you’re an angel.”

“Wonder if they’d think the same thing if they saw me now━” He pinches lightly at the inside of your thigh, “head between your legs, and you coming on my tongue.”

You roll your eyes, but your wittiness falls short when he tugs with his teeth at your folds. Your back arches off the bed at once, hips pressing harder against his face.

“Namjoon called last night,” You say. No, you don’t say it. You moan it and even though Jungkook knows it’s because of him and how he’s making you feel in that moment, he still hates hearing someone else’s name roll off the tip of your tongue that isn’t his. “If you must know. Said he wanted to see me in the morning━”

Jungkook grimaces. He grunts shortly, “Guess you’re gonna have to let him down.”

“I’m sure Joon will love that━”

“Don’t,” he hisses. He bites down a little harshly on the inside of your thigh but you don’t mind. When he glances up to look at you, his stare is dark and hooded. “Don’t say their names. Not now. Please.”

You almost miss the desperation in his voice, the way he almost whines his words. You don’t ask, even though you’re curious. You don’t ask, even when he eats you out that morning until he’s made sure you’re crying his name and nothing else. You don’t ask, even when fucks you slow and deep and measured and almost, dare you say, loving like he never has before, clinging onto you as if he can’t live without you. You don’t ask, even when he may get a little rough (just how you like it), as if he’s afraid you’ll leave him right then and there. You don’t even ask when he sucks not one but two hickeys on your neck, large enough for anyone to see. For Taehyung and Namjoon to see.

You never really do ask, even though you notice things have become different.

It’s not as if you haven’t always been close to one another. There are more times than not in which you both physically can’t keep your hands off of one another in public, though in the safest and simplest ways possible. It’s there, in the way you sit next to him with your legs crossed regally on the couch in the green room backstage before a set, playing with the rings on his fingers on the hand resting on your shoulder; there, in the way you sit draped across his lap, leaning into his chest, in the studio as they blur through recordings. When you give advice on composing or lyric writing, Jungkook listens. When you giggle into his ear and whisper lewd things when you probably shouldn’t in the middle of a party with important business men and other celebrities, Jungkook is captivated.

It wasn’t always supposed to be like this. Jungkook wasn’t always so madly in love with you, but he always knew there was something about you he just could not get enough of. You had chosen him first, approaching him late one night at a bar, and he was instantly head-over-heels. Even if it was mutually agreed upon ━ and oftentimes never really outwardly mentioned ━ that you could sleep around with him, Namjoon, and Taehyung, then Jungkook would have to deal with it. He would do anything, if it meant getting to see you more. At first he didn’t even mind. What was one more groupie to the ever growing list he had already accumulated? He’s never gotten feelings for any of them, so surely he thought he would be okay with you; that maybe whatever he was feeling for you would go away.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

After he asks you the question the first time, he finds himself stuck in a greedy months-long habit of asking you wistfully every time he finds you in his bed. He asks it a thousand and one times, but only ever gets one response from you. You’ll say no, that you have to leave, and sometimes you will. But sometimes ━ sometimes when he knows he wins out because he knows you let your guard down long enough to become besotted by him, a tangible mess with his every touch ━ you’ll linger just a little longer and the notion alone is enough to instill a sense of hope in Jungkook even if he knows it’s wrong.

And maybe you shouldn’t play along. Then again, he takes all your time and you devote what little you have left afterward to him anyway, pretending that you’re still seeing Taehyung and Namjoon when you’re certainly not.

Sometimes Jungkook catches you when he doesn’t mean to, or isn’t expecting to, and it’s all different moments that physically pain him. Sometimes those moments come from paying one of the guys a visit and stumbling upon you there, too.

After having not seen you for the whole day, and just before the concert begins, Jungkook is called over to Namjoon’s room within the hotel to discuss some last minute changes to the show (which Jungkook’s positive he would have heard about if he hadn’t ignored his manager early in the morning). Only Namjoon doesn’t answer the door when Jungkook arrives. There’s a crescendo of giggling on the other side of the threshold and then it’s you, and you’re standing there wearing nothing but a baggy shirt of Namjoon’s that barely covers your bum (and shorts too, he thinks, but Jungkook’s much too focused now on you in Namjoon’s shirt). Namjoon’s standing a bit further back, leaning against the wall of the hallway without a shirt on and he’s grinning at something that’s just happened.

“Took you long enough,” Namjoon calls out. “Come in, we’ll get started. I’ll just be right back━ Just hopped out of the shower━” And then he disappears into another room, most likely to find another shirt that isn’t taken by you.

“Jungkook!” You greet him so cheerfully, as if the sight of you half naked in another man’s home isn’t eating away at Jungkook. You pull him into a hug that’s so tight he can smell your familiar perfume and probably Namjoon’s lingering scent if he focuses hard enough. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jungkook says. He doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so standoffish. He hopes you don’t notice. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah. The girls had to leave but that’s okay.” You’re smiling so bright and wide that it almost hurts. “Namjoon━”

“Wanted to see you?” Jungkook finishes for you, remembering your words earlier in the day.

“Yeah━” You’re rambling on now but Jungkook isn’t listening. The pain is still lingering and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He knows it isn’t right but he can’t be bothered to care. In that moment, he realizes he’d rather be anywhere but there and he’s never felt that way before.

“Uh━ You know what?” He cringes slightly when he interrupts you. “Forgot I had to do something actually. Mina called earlier ━ said she wanted to talk or whatever.”

Your face immediately drops at the mention of the other girl and it pains him even more to know that you don’t see through his blatant lie. What’s worse is that Mina had called him the night before, but he had turned her down promptly before she could even say what she wanted.

You glance over your shoulder fleetingly as if to look for Namjoon, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip. “But I thought you needed to talk with Joon about the show?”

“Can’t, sorry. Tell Namjoon he can do whatever he wants. I don’t care. Seems like he’s got his hands full with you here anyway.”

He hates himself for it ━ he hates how petty he can be, how rude he can sound without truly meaning it ━ but before he can explain himself or apologize in a way that would probably make him look even more like an idiot, he turns his back to you. It’s the first time he’s really ever done something like that. Usually, he puts up with it ━ with you draped over Namjoon’s lap or Taehyung’s hand on your waist because usually he hadn’t always had feelings for you.

Truth be told, Jungkook doesn’t know how Namjoon or Taehyung feel about “sharing” you. He doesn’t even know how you feel about it or if you’ve noticed Jungkook’s short temper lately. He tries to contain it but he can’t and he hates how he’s become when he’s not alone with you. Lately, he’s started to think that maybe this isn’t right anymore. Maybe he shouldn’t keep meeting up with you if he’s going to feel this way all the time, and it wasn’t fair to you for him to be sulking so much. He’s not supposed to be in love. He’s supposed to be having fun.

After all, that’s what it was to you, wasn’t it?

But that night something happens.

Jungkook only notices you half an hour into the show later that night even despite the fact that you’re in the same place that you always are, standing on the side in the part of the pit closest to the stage where only family and close friends are allowed to stay. Of course you’re dancing along, just like you always do, and of course you’re watching him and the rest of the boys with starry eyes, just how he loves. You smiled wide at some point when his gaze locked with yours ━ him, drenched in sweat and nearing exhaustion, and you, face-flushed and looking as if you’re having the time of your life.

But that’s the thing about you ━ you’re not like the others. Sure, your eyes tend to drift to him more often than not and linger on him longer than necessary but you don’t just come for him. You live for the music, admire the rest of the boys that have treated him so dearly and make the group what it is.

And the way he performs ━ you wonder if he purposely exerts himself more because he wants you to only focus on him. Every rough thrust of his hips, every time he grabs at his crotch, dark and hooded eyes meets yours and you know he’s trying to tease you. Trying to make you suffer.

Later, when the concert is finished and you’re at a private room in a club with the boys to celebrate the evening and Jungkook has had one too many shots, he finds you at the bar. He sidles up from behind you, one palm sliding onto the small of your back. You know it’s him even before you look, judging by the familiar stature of his chest pressing against your body, and his usual scent. His lips press to the crook of your neck and your lips unfurl into a smile. You reach up blindly to grab at the nape of his neck as he starts to sway against you to the beat of the music, hips digging into your ass.

“I’ve been dying to be next to you all night.” He whispers this into the shell of your ear and you wonder vaguely how you’ve maintained enough self-control to not drop to your knees and suck him off then and there. Even worse is the fact that he’s still adorned in the makeup from the concert. Your fingers scratch at one of the newly shaved sides of his head, the rest of his long locks only maintain some of its original style pushed back and off his forehead, though now messily mused as it splays out on either side of his head and threatens to hide the undercut once more.

“You’re drunk,” You point out. He doesn’t seem to register the fact that you only point it out because otherwise, if he wasn’t so smashed, you aren’t quite sure he’d even be touching you the way he is now after the way he’s been acting lately.

“So are you,” Jungkook hums. “Let’s get out of here?”

And you can’t possibly say no.

He thinks it’s a shame, really, because you had looked quite pretty that night wearing a velvet red dress. Because after somehow calling a taxi and stumbling back to his dorm, he gets lost in you for a while and completely ravishes you, impatiently ripping your dress off you and pressing you against the wall, hips eagerly digging into yours until you hook your legs around his hips and he carries you off to bed to finish.

When you’re spent from your first high, Jungkook moves from your sprawled out positions on the bed and gets up, pulling on a pair of discarded sweatpants from the floor. You watch him as he combs his hair back that’s fallen into his face again, muscles in his biceps rippling as he does so. He reaches for an acoustic guitar in one corner, then sinks onto the edge of the bed. He’s not usually this quiet after a night spent together, though you don’t quite seem to notice, thinking nothing of it as he starts plucking away at the guitar with a melody in mind if only because when he’s frustrated and stuck on a lyric, he usually goes to you in seek of help in terms of finding relief. You get to your knees, crawling over to him so that you can drape your arms around his shoulders from the back.

“That’s pretty,” You sigh dreamily, nodding to the guitar and the lazy strumming he had been doing. In the distance, you realize there’s been music playing faintly the whole time from the dock where his phone is plugged in. You recognize one of the boys’ songs playing, then realize it’s Jungkook’s solo, his own voice singing beautifully back to you. Above all else, you realize all at once that he isn’t really playing anything at all, or brainstorming a new song, but plucking along absentmindedly to the melody of his own song.

He’s distracted but he tenses at your touch, then relaxes at once, melting instantly against you. “Just messing around,” he sighs.

“Nonsense,” You giggle. He glances over at you just in time to see you reach for his hand, and he watches as you play with the rings on his fingers. “There’s magic in these hands. In more ways than one.”

You press a chilling kiss against his palm, and then the tip of each of his fingers. Time seems to slow, and all he can suddenly focus on is you.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” His voice has a dull, stubborn whine to it that he can’t shake. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Once or twice,” You smirk. You busy yourself by focusing on lining the bottom of your palm with his, measuring your hand in his. He’s much bigger than you, his fingers nearly towering over yours and they’re always so snug and warm.

“Well, it’s true,” he says. “You’re the kinda girl songs are written about.”

“Unless I’m mistaken,” You say in a matter-of-fact tone, “you have written songs about me.”

He feigns a look of doubt, though a smile threatens to tug at his mouth, especially when you delicately lace your fingers with his one-by-one. “Ah, is that what you think, baby girl? Don’t let the fame get to your head.”

You laugh, dropping your head and leaning your temple against his knuckles in an attempt to hide your sheepish face. With his free hand, he sets his guitar back onto the floor and then unravels his other hand from yours. His palm is calloused and hot as it slides onto your cheek, and you nuzzle into it even despite him guiding your face back up to look at him. He can’t help himself; he leans in to kiss you, biting at your lower lip and earning a delicious moan. As his hands come to grip at your sides just over your ribs and the underside of your breasts do you crawl into his lap to straddle him. For a while, he lets himself get carried away, feeling your hands roam his chest, but then with such vivid intensity, he can only imagine Namjoon and Taehyung in the same position as him and it almost makes him want to vomit. Either that, or it’s the alcohol. Gathering his wits, he shakes his head, pulling apart from you.

“I think I should write━” He fumbles uselessly with his words. “Namjoon’s gonna kill me if I don’t finish these songs━”

You arch your chest against his, warm and soft and palpable, and your hips dig into his a little more roughly, rubbing against his straining erection. You can be heard whining sluggishly as you kiss the underside of his jaw, “But I want you inside me, Kook.”

His breath hitches in his throat, but he can’t think straight anymore. Is the scent he smelling even you anymore, or just a mix of Namjoon and Taehyung? And when you tell him he’s the only one who can ever make you feel the way he does, do you tell that to them too?

His silence is answer enough, and is what ultimately forces you to look up at him. You’re met with an empty expression, then your own countenance is contorting. You sit back on his lap.

“I don’t understand you anymore, Jungkook,” You say. There it is, he laments to himself. The familiar pang to his chest, the dreaded realization that maybe he’s fucked this whole thing up forever. “It’s like sometimes you can’t get enough of me, touching me here and there and just before shows when you’re supposed to be on in ten minutes, telling me that no one will care if you’re late. Then sometimes it’s like you won’t even look at me. Like you can’t get me off of you fast enough; like you can’t even touch me anymore.”

Jungkook avoids your stare, which he knows is exactly the sort of thing he shouldn’t do. But you already have your answer. You clamber off of his lap at once to slide back onto the bed and he wants nothing more than to pull you back but he knows he shouldn’t. Now, you seem flustered, or maybe just disheartened. Your arms come to cross over your bare chest, as if to hide yourself.

“You don’t want to touch me anymore,” You say dryly.

It’s not a question so much as it is a statement. Either way, he shakes his head. Rubbing a tired hand over his face, he mumbles, “Maybe you should go.”

You clamp your mouth shut. “You’re not serious, Jungkook.”

He still doesn’t dare to meet your gaze, his jaw set hard in place.

“You’re kicking me out? Now? Now?”

“I’m not. I’m just━ Not in the mood tonight.”

“What a liar,” You gasp. “I had your stupid boner poking my ass the entire time we were at the club, and you sure as hell spent the better part of the night fucking me.”

He can’t quite tell if you’re mad. Your tone dances a fine line between incredulousness and amusement, though he assumes it all boils down to disappointment in the end anyway. You refuse to move, though, pushing yourself onto your knees beside him.

“Tell me the truth, Jungkook,” You plead carefully. “Something’s wrong. Has been for a while, and I want to know what it is.”

He takes a deep breath and finally meets your stare and, god, you look irresistible. Your lips are bruised red from him biting and sucking at them, and your exposed chest is too tempting, beckoning him to touch you. His mind is a whirlwind of emotions ━ plus, he’s just a little bit tipsy, and so he blames it on that for caving into you so easily.

He grimaces. “I’m jealous, all right?”

You don’t respond at first, and he decides he wants to curl up into a hole and die. Then, you snort, which isn’t exactly the sort of reaction he was expecting to hear from you, and suddenly you don’t seem so angry at him anymore. “I knew that. Was wondering when you’d tell me, though.”

“You what?”

“Well, it’s not that hard to see. You’re always giving Namjoon and Taehyung death glares when I’m around.”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.” He says this sheepishly, and at least you giggle at him. “I just━ I’m selfish. I want you to myself.”

“I’m not a thing to have,” You retort.

“I know,” he says, and then groans the words again. “Fuck, I know. I’m sorry. I know you’re not a thing to have, and you’re not mine to have but, god, I hate it that they know everything about what it feels like to be with you.”

Gently, he grabs at your waist, tugging you onto his lap, rough hands spreading your thighs to sit perfectly on him once more. Then, with his hands planted on your hips, does he guide you back and forth on him slowly. He reaches out to brush his fingers along your bare arms, then across your collarbones, and down to your breasts. He leans down as if to kiss the valley between them, but his mouth never really does meet your skin; instead, his lips graze faintly against you.

“That they know your body.” He brushes his nose against your chest as he lifts his head. His mouth ghosts across your breasts, almost catching your nipples in his mouth, his breath warm and tingly against the sensitive flesh, just to tease you. His hand follows his lips, grasping firmly at the underside of your breast, his thumb flicking over the perked bud. “Have touched it where I’ve touched it.”

Your own hands flail out to grasp at his shoulders, your breath hitching in your throat. “Why? Why do you hate it so much? That’s all I want to know.”

“Because they don’t even know how lucky they are,” he mutters. “Because you probably do all sorts of things for them and they just think you’re another groupie. Because they aren’t in love with you.”

“You’re in love with me?” Your face is hot now, your body trembling. His hands are still on your chest when he starts kissing your throat.

“Yeah. I am.”

“What if I told you I’m in love with you too?”

“Well, you are fucking my band mates. I think that makes things a tad bit complicated.”

“You’re such an idiot.” You’re certain if he wasn’t making you feel like heaven in that moment, you would have snapped the words. Instead, you’re already shamelessly grinding your hips against his even without his guidance. “I called it off with them a while ago, actually. They were okay with it, too. Said they felt something was different. You’re the only one in my life, Jungkook.”

Jungkook stops suddenly. He pulls his head back to gawk at you and is greeted to your hooded eyes watching him. “You━ What? What about this morning when you said Namjoon wanted to see you?”

“I lied,” You admit timidly.

“And when you were in his room━”

“We never did anything,” You promise. “I just wanted to see a reaction from you. Honestly, so did Taehyung and Namjoon. I mean, Namjoon purposely told me to come to his room to see if you’d be jealous. And I think I went along with it because I really just want to know that when you ask me to stay with you, in your bed, do you really mean it? I just…” You trail off, biting at your lower lip, asking him apprehensively, “What about you and that Mina girl?”

“I haven’t seen her or talked to her in months,” he says earnestly.

“Of course not.” You say this in a breathless laughing manner, as if it’s just now dawning on you. Then, you reach up to cradle his head in your hands, grasping at either side of his face. When you speak next, your voice is an ardent whisper. “I want to be with you, Kook. Like really, really be with you. I didn’t know how to tell you because we were so used to just having sex and nothing more and I figured if that’s all I could get with you, then I’d learn to live with it even if it’d kill me to hear you hooking up with other girls.”

Jungkook blinks. He takes a moment to comprehend what’s happening, but then he’s feeling that tension in his chest loosen and he’s just so relieved.

“There’s only you,” he says. “Has been for a while.”

You smile, so big and soft and pretty, and he kisses you just to bask in the moment. Suddenly, he’s just overwhelmed with love for you and almost doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“Maybe I should get you jealous more often,” You muse pensively. “It’s kinda hot.”

“It’s mean,” he pouts. Then, his demeanour changes and he’s smirking wolfishly. “Besides, they can’t fuck you like I can, can they?”

“N-No,” You croak feebly. “It’s always been you, Jungkook. Even with them. I’d never tell them but… you’re all I could think about even when I was with them. Imagining you touching me instead of them. Imagining it was you when they laid with me.”

This seems to grab his attention, having him groaning into your neck. “What’d I say? Gonna be the death of me.”

You shiver at the sound of his hoarse voice. You whisper aloud, “The feeling is mutual.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so stupid lately,” he says. “Let me make it up to you. Do you want that, baby girl? But first you gotta show me you mean it. That you’re mine.”

As he tongues a pattern against your throat, you muster a nod. You wonder if it’s obvious how badly you want him in that moment, with the way your hips continue to grind against his.

“I want you to fuck yourself on my thigh,” he murmurs against you. “Can you do that for me?”

The thought entices you and has you scrambling to nod your head again. His large hands come to grab at your ass, shifting you until you’re seated on one of his legs. Your eyes never stray from his as you start to grind against his thigh, the rough material of his sweatpants rubbing at your core. Slow and steady, he guides you back and forth, watching as your pretty mouth pops open into a silent gasp.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he coos. “God, you look so pretty. And you’re all mine. Touch yourself for me.”

“Where?” You ask breathlessly.

“All over. Anywhere you want me.”

You whimper at the thought, imagining the feeling of his rough hands on your body. You start at your chest, grasping at your own breasts, squeezing at your perked nipples. You pinch them until they’re hard under your fingertips, kneading the soft flesh of your breasts with your palm as you try to picture Jungkook doing the same. Then, you slide one hand down the front of your stomach, past your navel. He watches as you dip lower and lower before finally reaching between your legs, fingers rubbing small circles against your clit. The mingling feelings of you rutting your hips against his thigh and the way you touch yourself under his burning stare has you writhing on his lap within seconds.

“Oh, Jungkook━” Your eyes clamp shut, brows knitting in concentration. “Wanna feel you so bad━”

“Uh uh,” he tuts at once. Grabbing at your chin, he yanks your head back up in his direction and taps his thumb against your jaw. “Keep your eyes on me. I want to see how I make you feel.”

“But it feels so good,” You whine. Still, you listen, prying your eyes open just slightly enough to meet his stare again. Now, you’ve started to grind a little harder on him, rubbing at your heat a little faster. “Please, Jungkook━”

“Cum for me first,” he coos, his tone gentle despite his obvious demands. “Then I’ll do whatever you want. You can do that for me, right?”

You muster a nod, eyes threatening to flutter shut again but you refrain. He moves one of his arms to wrap around your waist, his large hard encompassing almost all of your back as he pushes you closer to him and the action alone is enough to make you hum with delight.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he says. “The things they could never do for you.”

He doesn’t say Taehyung’s or Namjoon’s names for you to understand and, truthfully, you’re glad he doesn’t. Your mind is much too focused on Jungkook to care about anyone else.

“I want you━” You cry out suddenly, biting at your lip. “I want you to touch me, anywhere. I want you to use me, and make me yours. I want you in me. I just need your dick, Jungkook, please. You always make me feel so good. Please, please touch me━”

His jaw sets hard in place as he continues to watch you, fingers itching to please you however which way you want, but he waits. He knows you’re close to your high when you start whimpering and moaning his name, your hand falling from your chest as your other hand rubs harder at your clit the faster you ride his thigh. He flexes his muscle beneath your core, and the simple action is enough to have your head spinning. As you reach your high, his hand that is still wrapped around your chin slides upward and his two forefingers poke into your mouth. Instantly, you’re sucking against them, tongue laving at his digits desperately as you imagine his cock in your mouth, in your cunt, stretching you wide.

“God, you’re such a good girl,” he grunts. “Keep your eyes on me.”

As you unravel in his arms, body twitching into his chest, his arm tightens its hold around your back and envelopes you in his warmth so much to the point where it feels as if you begin to melt against him. You grab at his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth until you almost gag, muffled moans meeting his ear as you climax. When you’re spent, your pace on his thigh slows to a steady occasional gyrating of your hips as you suck and lav at his fingertips.

“That’s it, baby girl,” Jungkook hums, his free hand stroking your back as you calm your nerves. When you’ve regained most of your wit, you pop Jungkook’s fingers from your mouth and he takes the liberty of guiding his palm down your chin to your throat to your breasts. “You’re doing so well for me. Bet you never listened as well to them as you do with me. Will you get on your hands and knees for me?”

You scramble to obey, crawling off his lap and onto all fours on the bed. You crane your neck to watch as he gets to his knees behind you, shoving the material of his sweatpants down to his knees in haste. He’s already impossibly hard, grasped in his knuckles, precum leaking from the head of his dick. He wastes no time in pushing himself into you, and though he’s stretched you wide hours ago, the same feeling of him slipping in snug to your heat does wonders on your body still.

“Mm, Jungkook!” You cry out as he buries himself balls deep into you, coaxed so easily by your slick arousal. He sputters at the sensation, palms pawing at your navel as he yanks you further down his cock. “F-Fuck━ You feel so good━”

“Show me,” he gasps, pulling his hips out once and rutting into you so vigorously you feel it shudder throughout your whole body. Then, he’s thrusting into you at a rhythmic fast pace that has you clenching so tight around him, his head spins some more. “Let me hear you. I wanna see how I make you feel. Let me see how you belong to me.”

He tugs at your elbows, yanking you up off the bed, and you clumsily follow suit, pressing your back flushed against his chest.

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” You whine. “I want you to wreck me so bad. Only you know how to wreck me so bad.”

“Yeah?” he taunts. “Only me? Gonna prove it?”

“Please, Jungkook━ Harder, please━ I’ll do anything you want!”

He quickens his pace and slams his hips up into yours harshly. It has you moaning with delight, nearly slipping from his grasp, but he holds you tighter in place. He reaches round to grab at your chin again, twisting your head in a careful yet prompt manner so that you’re looking over your shoulder at him with your flustered gawking expression.

“Open up.” He taps at your mouth and you do as you’re told. Almost instantly, he pulls your chin closer until your mouth is hovering over his, and spits. It’s a wordless command and gesture, as if to further prompt you to prove your point. You welcome it entirely, swallowing his own saliva completely. What doesn’t make it into your mouth, dribbles down your chin and onto your throat. Then you’re chasing his mouth, hearing him hum approvingly, “That’s it, baby.”

You almost miss his lips the first time from the way he’s being so feral now as his hips continue to slam against yours. You’re fortunate when he guides your chin, still pinched between his fingers, in a much too tender manner for the crude moment that has your heart swooning despite all the hysteria. A hot open-mouthed kiss which is still entirely sloppy as your tongues ravish mid-air, and his teeth nip and suck on your lower lip any chance he can get.

“Gonna tell them how well I fuck you?” he asks breathlessly. You bite at his lip this time, tugging at it hard. “Let them know you’re all mine? Fuck━”

“Mhm!” You rasp. “Oh, Jungkook━”

By now, his pace is relentless. You threaten to ricochet from his grip with each rut of his hips, knees wobbling beneath you. He hand falls from your chin finally to grab at your breasts, replacing your earlier efforts, pinching at your nipples, squeeze at your soft flesh. He lavs wet kisses along your jawline, your neck, and shoulder. Your own head leans back onto his shoulder, a hand reaching out to grasp at his hair. Your fingers first scratch at the shaved sides, then thread through his hair, yanking at it tightly enough to have him grunting in delight.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna━” You whimper. “I’m gonna━”

But you don’t finish your thought. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook already knows you’re close to your high with the way you start to clench around him. You pull even tighter at his hair, a pleasant burn evoking a hiss from his throat. His hips move even faster than before, desperate to try and carry you to your high. So riddled from your first orgasm not long ago and the one before that, you’re quick to crumble beneath him once more. Twisting and turning, you cry out his name in a repeated mantra, like music to his ears. When the scorching heat between your thighs and blinding your eyes subsides enough for you to be somewhat coherent again, you meekly find your voice.

“Tell me I’m yours,” You beg despairingly, voice barely a ragged panting whisper. The aftershock of your orgasm still shakes through your body that the way you’re clutching at his hair now is only so that you can still have some sort of hold on reality still. “Please, please. Tell me. I wanna be yours so bad. You already have me, just wanna hear it from you. Tell me you want me as much as I want you. Please, Jungkook━”

A nerve flutters in Jungkook’s heart. And his dick. He marvels momentarily at the idea of how he wants to continue to wreck you and simultaneously love you all over and grows impatient. Without warning, and with much difficulty, he pulls out of you. Before you can register what’s happening or miss the warmth of his cock in your heat, he pushes you onto the bed and flips you around so that you’re on your back. Then, hovering over you close enough so that he can hook one of your legs over his shoulder, he pushes himself back into you.

“You’re all I want,” he says, smoothing his mouth over yours once more. He moans against your lips, then rests his forehead against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you. You make it so hard to think sometimes. Everything about you drives me wild.”

His pace isn’t as harsh as before, though he’s careless as he abandons all form in an attempt to ride out your high and reach his own. Each thrust he makes jolts you back and forth on the bed, the sensitivity between your thighs a mild burn that starts to crescendo as you gasp each time his cock slides back into you. You reach out tiredly to grab at his face with soft motions despite not bothering to move him from where he still rests with his forehead. One large palm of his comes to grasp at your side, pushing you further into the mattress as he hammers into you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum━” He moans. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby? Gonna let me make your cunt mine?”

“Yes, please,” You rasp. “Wanna feel it so bad.”

It’s different this time despite knowing the sensation well enough from all those times before. Every event since then has been a build up to this, and when he finally releases into you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make the both of you whimper and whine, mewling with delight the longer he cums in your heat.

Then, he slumps against your chest and the room falls silent once more safe for the sound of your mingled panting. He burrows his face into the crook of your neck and your fingers rake through his sweaty hair in a soothing manner until that too ceases after a few silent moments.

“Not falling asleep on me now, are you?” he asks after the thrill of both your highs have subsided. He lifts his head to look at you and finds that you are, in fact, beginning to doze off.

“No,” You lie. You pry one eye open to look at him as you bite back a sheepish snicker. He pulls out of you at long last, and the lack of warmth has you immediately protesting. You reach out blindly for him before he can move too far. “Come back here. I want to cuddle you.” Then, letting your surroundings register once more, you realize suddenly that music has still been playing all this time. Most specifically, Jungkook’s solo which has been left on a loop. You meet his curious gaze in the dark and deadpan, “Did you seriously just fuck me to your song?”

“It’s not fucking when we were making love,” he wriggles his brows suggestively. You wonder how he’s always so quick to go from one extreme to the other. Whereas five minutes ago, you wanted nothing more than to have him demolish you with his dick, now he’s just his usual lovable idiotic self that you want to kiss all over. He’s not wrong though, you discern. The song isn’t a bad one either, and the thought of him having sex with you to his own music is undescriably hot anyway.

“You can’t say you were making love to me when you just took me raw.” Amongst other things, you think to yourself, but you’re certain he’s well aware of that. His snickers warm your heart to no end and you can’t help yourself when you lean forward to kiss him.

“I can and I will because I love you,” he says proudly. Then, as if tasting the words on his tongue and favouring the sound of it, hums more pensively again, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

And this time he knows you mean it because, in the morning, when you both wake up feeling sore and marked all over by one another (so that Namjoon and Taehyung can know), you’re still curled up into Jungkook’s chest. You’re half asleep, your nose nuzzling against the crook of his neck and making him smile. You’re only roused awake by the feather-light strokes his fingers make as they rub small circles into your back.

“Stay with me?” Jungkook asks this hopefully, of course, but he already knows the answer. This time, he even knows it’ll be different.

He sees your sleepy smile widen when he kisses your temple sweetly, and decides quickly that he likes this, right there and now, as it is, and especially when he hears you whisper finally, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”

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