#every fic I write that she appears in I am just constantly shaking my head about her poor soul | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ptersparkers · 4 years

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summary: you’re high out of your mind for the first time and rafe’s surprised by your sudden and explicit confession.

warnings: smut, y’all.

notes: the rafe in this/all my fics isn’t canon and i just love drew but i feel weird writing for a real person ok. also let me emphasize (again) that i am NOT excusing his behavior by writing my stories with him. this is my imagination in it, there’s literally nothing canon about his character. okay bye happy reading.

writing this is pure wish fulfillment. BYEEEEEEE.

For the better half of six months, Rafe Cameron had been lucky enough to call you his girlfriend.

Rafe could remember the exact moment a mutual friend had introduced the two of you. Topper, his best friend since the beginning of freshman year, put together a welcoming party for his new apartment that he leased at the beginning of senior year of college. You were a starting junior at the time and knew Topper because he was a teaching assistant in your introductory economics class, and the unlikely friendship between the widely popular frat boy and the bookish wine drinker was born.

You were sitting on the couch’s arm rest when he arrived and Rafe hadn’t taken notice of you in favor of congratulating Topper on the new place, setting a bottle of wine as a warming gift. Engrossed in a conversation, you didn’t notice Topper introducing his best friend to everyone he didn’t know at the party until Rafe greeted your counterpart and looked at you.

You smiled at him and stuck your hand out for him to shake. Rafe could vividly remember how soft they were and how you hadn’t broken eye contact with him when he returned the favor. Neither of you spoke to one another for the rest of the night aside from small talk when you offered to help Topper clean up the living room when the majority of the guests began to leave. Rafe decided to forego a ride from a friend in favor of helping you pick up wine glasses and paper plates from the floor and bookshelves.

What started as an innocent introduction became a case of pining; Rafe saw you everywhere he went after that party and swore the universe had an agenda. You would enter the library as he was leaving. Whenever he’d stop by the coffee shop on campus, you’d be chatting with a friend at a table by the window. Rafe would see you walk past his advisor’s office whenever he appeared early for his appointment. He concluded that it wasn’t just a coincidence and he knew he had to say something to you sooner rather than later.

Constantly seeing you started the fluttering feeling in his stomach and the smile he couldn’t seem to wipe off his face. It was a coincidence that you bumped into Rafe and Topper in the mess hall one evening and spent two hours in the same spot, laughing about a conversation Rafe couldn’t remember. All he could recall was feeling like he had nothing to worry about for the first time.

Topper was the one to give Rafe your phone number after noticing how long he’d spend staring at you and picked up how innocuously shy Rafe would act when asking if you were coming to one of their frat parties. Rafe always knew the answer was no, because he learned you weren’t the party type, but that didn’t stop him from wishing he’d have a reason to see you. Topper wasn’t shy about putting your number in his phone and Rafe put it to good use an hour later.

Rafe didn’t go to the frat party at the biggest house on the property. Instead, he chose to stay sober and drive to your dorm hall to pick you up, heading to a local spot to pick up food before driving to the edge of a cliff’s edge for a peaceful night underneath the beacon of stars that seemed brighter, truly, for the first time.

He knew he was in deep when he chose to decline alcohol-driven nights to listen to your favorite songs in your dorm room. Rafe knew you’d never force him to separate himself from things he loved to do, which made it easy for him to choose waking up next to you in the morning sun over waking up slouched over a couch in a room he wasn’t familiar with.

When he gained the courage to make a move, and when you said yes to being his girlfriend, there was no shortage of tenderness on both ends as Rafe became accustomed to having you pressed against his tall frame. You’d steal his clothes and he’d love the scent of your perfume on them when you gave it back. You’d support him through tough finals and he’d be your study partner until late into the night. He’d take you on dates until you two forgot what time it was and he lived to see when you were too happy to realize you should head back to your dorm hall.

It was circumstantial, this relationship, but neither you nor Rafe would change a thing.

The both of you were invited to go to a local bar just outside of the city by mutual friends to celebrate the end of finals week. You and Rafe hadn't seen much of one another due to conflicting schedules and reached an understanding that there wasn’t going to be much time to spend together until the semester was over, and you both jumped at the chance to let loose and forget the horrors of testing.

One of your friends, Violet, had been smoking a joint by the time you got to her apartment to get ready, and because the stress of finals was over, you decided to let loose and enjoy the first night of freedom by smoking to celebrate. You weren’t quite sure how fast it happened due to the lack of experience when it came to smoking, but time passed and it felt like the clouds had landed on the ground specifically for you to walk on. Violet had texted Rafe on your behalf to let him know the state of you were in before hopping into an Uber to the bar.

Rafe arrived first and saw the place wasn’t as packed as the bars back in the city and appreciated the stillness. Pool tables were situated in every corner and he could see his friends throwing darts as he grabbed a drink from the bartender who gave him a friendly smile before leaving to help another customer. Rafe didn’t know what to expect from you tonight. The only other time you had been high was a few months prior, and even then you were quite tame after taking a single hit from Topper.

“Baby!” you said louder than usual when you saw his frame from afar. Rafe turned around and grinned widely at the sight of you sauntering to him, his arms reaching out to pull you in an embrace as he lifted your frame off of the ground. He let you greet the rest of the party before settling his arm around your waist, your head leaning on him. JJ, one of your mutual friends, helped you regain your balance when you accidentally bumped into a stool chair.

“You havin’ fun?” he asked. Rafe chuckled at the state of your red eyes and kissed your temple when you nodded shyly.

“I feel really good right now,” you said. “Violet thought it would be better if I wore flat shoes.” You pointed at your white Converse high tops. “I came wearing heels but I think she had a better idea.”

“Thanks, Vi,” he said, looking up at the girl who you had walked in with. She gave Rafe a friendly nod and resumed talking to JJ, her long term boyfriend.

“I literally feel like I could die happy,” you said, aimlessly looking around, not focusing on one thing or the other.

“We definitely don’t want that tonight,” Rafe said. “Better keep you close just in case.” He maneuvered himself so that his back was resting on the bar and your body was resting in his chest, your head on the fabric of his shirt, nuzzled as if you were in the comfort of your own bed. Rafe grinned at you and stroked the side of your head, watching the rest of the party interact with one another.

“Hey, man,” JJ said, nodding Rafe in acknowledgement. “You gonna get a drink, Y/N?” JJ noticed the lack of alcohol by you and Rafe, but you shook your head the same time Violet did.

“She’s pretty high,” said Violet, who had been pressed against JJ’s side. His grip on her waist tightened when she laughed at your state of being, watching as you dug yourself a spot on Rafe’s chest. “I think she shouldn’t be crossfaded tonight, at least.”

“That’s why you’re the smart one in this relationship,” JJ said before pressing a quick kiss to Violet’s lips. “Kelce, Pope, and John B. are on their way. I think they should be about ten minutes?”

“Don’t worry, man,” Rafe said. “I’m gonna keep Y/N company and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself.” Violet and JJ leave the two of you in favor to start a conversation with Topper and his girlfriend Maddie, whom you met during an economics class and became food friends with, would periodically check up on you throughout the night.

For the duration of the evening, you don’t leave Rafe’s side very often. When he’s talking to your mutual friends, who come to understand that you’re incredibly high and are experiencing this for the first time, they stick to playfully teasing you including you in the conversation when you’re turning in, accommodating when you zone out.

Rafe can’t help but think how adorable you look with glossy eyes and the tip of your nose a fair shade of pink. Your cheeks are tinted red and your lips are wet from constantly licking him. He squeezes your hip when you silently beg for attention and periodically presses kisses to your temple, leaving you in a state of bliss.

By now, your arms were wrapped loosely around him and he swayed the both of you back and forth to the song you didn’t know the name of. You looked between him and the exposed chest from four open buttons on his shirt and he looked down at you with the corners of his mouth lifted into an amused grin.

“You’ve been so clingy all night, baby,” he said, giving your hips a squeeze. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled. You could feel your tongue in your dry mouth and licked your lips. “Just enjoying this feeling.”

“Of being high?” he asked. You nodded.

“God, I don’t know why I didn’t do this before,” you replied. “I feel so good. Maybe it’s because finals are over or maybe I just really like being high.” Rafe laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to your temple and you could feel his warm mouth on your skin. When he leaned back to look at you, he could see that your eyes were trained on him and your mouth parted slightly.

“You okay, baby? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking,” you began, but paused. He could see your eyes were trying hard to focus on his facial features and he brought his hand up to your jaw and used the pad of his thumb to stroke your cheek.

“Yeah? What are you thinking of, pretty girl?” You licked your lips once more and your gaze flickered from his chest to his eyes.

“I’m thinking about how much I want you to eat my pussy in the back of your car.”

Rafe’s eyes widened and he didn’t hide the fact that he was taken by surprise. Out of the time the two of you had been dating, things didn’t go farther than kissing or grinding against one another in the bedroom, and Rafe never wanted to pressure you into doing something you were uncomfortable with. As far as he knew, you were comfortable with the amount of sexual activity that had taken place, which is why he was so surprised when you openly expressed your desire.

“W-What?” he asked, choking on his words. He looked around to see if any of your friends were paying attention but they were too busy engrossed in a conversation or were incredibly drunk themselves. You were running your hands over his chest and touching his jeans to the point where he was aware of how close your fingertips are to his member and had to shift himself so that his friends can’t see what you’re up to.

“I need your mouth so badly,” you whined, a pout forming on your lips as you do. Rafe looked at you and he swore his cock had hardened by the desperation in your glossy eyes and wordlessly took your hand in his and pulled you out of the bar and into the near barren parking lot with the exception of a few cars. Where he parked was barely lit, off to the side of the gigantic light that illuminated the open space. He unlocked his car and pushed you gently into the backseat until you looked situated enough. Rafe squatted outside of the backdoor as your legs dangled out the side and you've managed to take your jean shorts off so that it’s pooling at your legs.

“Babe,” he said. “You sure?”

“I need your fucking mouth on my pussy,” you whine, reaching down to put your hand over your clothed entrance to move your panties aside. Rafe watched as you worked your already glistening slit, your hands delicately moving as you looked at him, a silent message that he can only interpret as you silently begging for his mouth.

Rafe wasted no time giving you what you want other than to take your panties off completely and throw them into the front seat. His tongue flattened against your core and you let out a loud and obscene moan, but neither of you cared to check if anyone was in the dark parking lot or not. His hands were on both of your thighs and he could hear your breaths become increasingly shallow as his tongue worked wonders, moving like he needed to lap up every last drop if he wanted to live to see another day.

He would feel your legs shaking and did his best to keep a hold on you, his arm on your body to hold you down as you squirmed and bucked your hips. Your legs could spread only so wide in the confinements of the car, but that didn’t stop you from trying to spread them wider for easier access. Rafe moaned against your body and you shuddered at the feeling of his vibration being sent up your body, your ears ringing with pleasure.

Your boyfriend could feel your hands wander to the back of his head and didn’t mind you tugging on his roots. It encouraged him to move his tongue faster and harder as he felt you pull his hair and moan with approval. The tip of his tongue darted in and out of your entrance and you screamed in euphoria, mumbling about how you were going to release any second.

Rafe prepared by lapping your core with his tongue like he needed this. His chin was covered in your slick and his head was moving with the rhythm of his tongue, listening as you told him you were coming and felt your legs tremble beneath him. White pearls escaped your core and Rafe was quick to catch them with his tongue, enjoying the feeling of you sliding down his throat. As you were coming down from your high, and as Rafe was cleaning the mess he made, you reached for his hand and put it where his mouth was.

“Y/N?” he asked timidly, looking up at you. “Are you sure you want this?”

You knew him too well. You knew Rafe would ask you if you were comfortable with doing anything before he made his move and he would reassure you that you had nothing to worry about when you were with him. Before deciding to smoke a few blunts upon coming to the bar tonight, you had considered asking Rafe to experience this euphoria with you in full without him holding back. But because finals rolled around, you thought it was best to wait until it was over, and your current state heightened your preexisting feelings.

He mistook your silence as a sign to stop, so he pulls his hand away.

“We can stop if you want,” he said. You shook your vigorously and put his hand back to your entrance.

“Rafe, I’ve wanted this for so long,” you said, grinding your hips against the palm of his hand. “I’ve been so shy about asking you to fuck me but I’ve been thinking about your cock so much that I can’t focus.” Rafe’s eyes widened at the sudden confession. “I just want you to use me until you’re done with me.”

Rafe choked.

“Baby-”

“Do it,” you said forcefully. “I want you to use me.”

Rafe’s jaw has gone slack and all of his fantasies with you came rushing to the front of his mind. He looked at you and you nodded, telling him you trust him not to hurt you because you knew that’s what he was thinking about.

“Baby, I’ll never be done with you.”

His hands started to tease your entrance slowly, and when you whined and begged for him to move faster, he placed a harsh and prominent slap on your pussy that made you jump in surprise. Rafe waited for your reaction and upon seeing the dirty smile on your face, he did it again.

“So fucking wet for me, huh? Baby wants my fingers?” he taunted.

“I want them inside of me,” you moaned. Rafe’s heart was still beating fast and he tried to slow his heart rate when he heard how vocally expressive you are, not used to the idea of you being open sexually. But he embraced your confidence and promised himself to give you what you wanted and what you could handle.

“I can’t say no to you, can I?”

Rafe’s got you sat up properly in the car, your back against the rest as he moved his arm to move his fingers against your clit, which made your eyes close shut. He covered his fingers in your slick from the previous time you came and put his middle finger inside of you, relishing in the feeling of you moaning with your head tilted back against the headrest.

As you emit high-pitched moans, all Rafe could think about was how lucky he was to have someone who trusted him. You were willing to drop your panties in a public parking lot, and moaned so loudly that he wa’s sure the patrons in the bar heard you over the loud music. His eyes looked at you in adoration as he added another finger and pumped his hand faster while you moaned louder. Rafe didn’t bother fixing himself because he knew his cock was hard by the sight of your legs spread for him and your mouth begging him to make you come.

He used this moment to unzip his jeans and push them down far enough to palm himself through his boxers. His half-hardened member was aching and he desperately wanted to pull himself out, but he stuck with focusing on making you orgasm for the second time before pleasuring himself until his vision grew hazy.

“I’m gonna,” you said, not bothering to finish your sentence. Rafe couldn’t say anything and when you let out the moan that signaled what was about to come, you held onto his wrist as he kept his fingers inserted inside of you and he felt your come drip onto his fingers, smirking at the way you were holding his fingers in place for him. He moved his hand from your core and brought them up to your lips with a smirk. You didn’t have to be told twice and he watched as you welcomed his long digits into your mouth, your tongue working to lap yourself from his hand.

Rafe stood there with his mouth opened slightly and his heart beating faster. You moved yourself onto your knees and pulled your top of your head and discarded your bra, leaving you completely naked while Rafe was still fully clothed. Your hand reached out for his boxers and Rafe looked down at you.

“Babe,” he said. “It’s okay.”

“Rafe,” you deadpanned. “I want you to feel good too. I want to take care of you. Can I do that?”

When Rafe nodded, you pulled him out of his boxers and bit your lip at his already impressive size for being half hard. You looked at Rafe and saw as his eyebrow creased when you stroked him slowly, allowing yourself to bask in his glory before moving your body down the car seat to put your mouth around his head.

Rafe had received blowjobs in the past, but the combination of being semi-public and realizing the girl he loves was willing to make him feel good for the sake of seeing him happy made his mind race a million miles per hour. You pushed his jeans down with his boxers for more access and, slowly, your mouth began to take him farther into your throat.

His hips bucked voluntarily and he cursed himself for taking it too far with you until he saw your body inch forward to take more of him into your mouth until the entirety of his cock disappeared into your mouth. He groaned and knew you were okay with him being rough with you, and reached his hand out to place it on the back of your head. Rafe was unapologetic when he moved his hips to fuck your mouth, caressing your body until his fingers reach your entrance once more.

When you felt him delicately put his fingers into you once more, collecting the remnants of come, you moaned against his cock and it sent shivers down your boyfriend’s spine. It taunted him to reach his orgasm quicker and when you look up at him through your lashes, he gives little to no warning before moving your head down to the base of his cock as he releases into your mouth.

Your dirty smile was apparent, trying to accommodate to the surprise. When you were able to take him out of your mouth, a string of spit connects his tip with your tongue and you stroke him to keep him hard.

“My love,” he whispered to himself, eyes shut and head tilted back. You watched him as he tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he fumbled with the buttons. His cock was still standing, erect and proud, when he remembered he had an extra joint and a lighter in the glove compartment.

You watched as Rafe pulled it out of the messy box and you licked your lips as you made room for him in the backseat. The both of you were completely naked and your leg swung over his lap, making yourself at home by sitting directly on his still-hardened cock. Rafe watched as you ground your bare pussy over him and did his best not to be too distracted as he lit the joint, grinning when he successfully lit the piece and brought it to your mouth to take the first hit.

Your lips lingered around the joint for a moment before releasing, a faint cloud of white smoke filling the space of the car. Rafe realized the door was still open and reached over to slam it shut before you passed the joint to him. You watched as his lips enveloped the joint and he puffed in the opposite direction, and the both of you can feel the atmosphere change. Rafe was bucking his hips to meet your movements as you moved down onto him, and he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet and sloppy kisses on your skin. You were too busy enjoying yourself to realize the both of you had passed the joint back and forth so quickly upon seeing it crumble.

Rafe took the remnants and smoked what he could before you hastily put your mouth on his. You were taken by surprise and released the smoke into your mouth, and you kept yourself from shaking at the sheer pleasure. His mouth moved against yours in what you can describe as wonder; Rafe’s hands roamed your body while his tongue explored every corner of your mouth. When you felt his mouth move your breasts and his whimpers at the feeling of you on his cock, you looked at him.

“Rafe,” you moaned. Rafe’s attention moved from your breasts to your gaze and he could feel your hand moving his cock to your entrance. He moaned loudly when you moved your body to sink down on him completely and he recalled that your core was coated with two previous orgasms.

He could barely believe that you, who he thought was too shy to talk about taking it farther in the bedroom, was bouncing on his cock like you’d done it before. Your hands were planted on his shoulders and he could feel as your ass dug itself into his lap before lifting yourself up just to press yourself back down on him. His hands found their way to your ass cheeks and he gave them a harsh slap simultaneously, your head falling to his chest as you winced, followed by a pornographic moan.

Your hips moved like clockwork and he tried to match your pace, lifting his hips up to meet your pussy. The sound of skin against skin, and the smell of the joint made Rafe’s mind think this was what Heaven was, and he would be damned if he didn’t get to experience Heaven with you.

Rafe could tell you were getting tired of the heavy lifting and took the liberty to hold your body with his arm behind your back. He lifted you above him only slightly before he lifted his hips up and down repeatedly to drill his cock into you hard and fast, causing you to moan directly into his ear. He let curses leave his mouth and you said his name like a prayer when you felt himself in you fully, the sound of your wetness coating his cock.

Your third orgasm, his second, was approaching. He pulled your hair back to give himself access to your neck and didn’t bother to be gentle; his mouth left marks on your neck and you encouraged him by begging for his mouth on your skin.

“You gonna come soon, baby?” you asked after regaining your breath, teasing him when you saw his eyes wired shut and his jaw clenched. Rafe’s eyes snapped open and his hand attached itself to your jaw, jerking your head to look into his eyes directly. You laughed seductively and left your mouth hung open when you felt Rafe slow his motions, thrusting into your particularly hard at your choice of words.

“Do you enjoy using me to get yourself off?” he asked in between thrusts. You were barely able to answer and he tightened his grip. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you struggled to say, looking him directly in the eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he grunted. “Where do you want it, tits or mouth?” You shook your head.

“Inside of me,” you said. “You have to come inside of me, okay? I don’t want to get your car dirty.”

“Fuck,” he said, his voice cracking.

“Baby, I need it so badly,” you coaxed. “All I’ve wanted is your come inside of me and we can’t ruin your car, okay? Can you do that for me, please? Come inside of me?”

Rafe didn’t utter another word. You bit your lip and smiled when you felt his come coat your walls and pushed yourself onto his cock when he let out a loud, deep, and vocal moan in your ear. His chest was pressed against yours and neither of you cared about the heat generated between the two of you. He kept your body close as he orgasmed for the second time and you followed soon after.

He left delicate kisses on your shoulder and you moved your body to ride him slowly, and both of you can feel the cum dripping out of your pussy and onto his cock. Rafe took this opportunity to put his hands back on your ass cheeks and guided you up and down, using your come as lubrication. He could hear the wet sounds and watched you from the rearview mirror as your body moved against him one more time, and he promised the both of he was going to make you come one last time.

The both of you could tell the final round wouldn’t last very long, but neither of you cared. Rafe reached up to press his lips messily against yours and moved your bodies as if they were in sync the entire time. His thrusts were getting sloppy and he could tell your body was getting tired of moving in the same position, which coaxed him to thrust his hips up into you, ignoring the numbing feeling to hear you moan over and over again until you come on his cock, again for the fourth time.

He released inside of you once more and allowed you to calm down to catch your breath. You were the first to move off of him and both of you witnessed the white, creamy mess you had made. Rafe reached down to your pussy once more and used the pads of his fingers to move it in circles against your clit and you moaned in ecstasy until it became too much, and he pulled his hand away before finding a tissue box to clean the both of you up.

The windows are foggy and both of your hand prints are visible. You open the car door to let fresh, cold air enter the space and sigh in relief as he works to clean the mess. When he discards the tissues to the floor of the backseat, promising himself he’d put it in the trash later, Rafe pulls you towards his chest and you lay your head on the free space as he strokes the back of your head and kisses your temple over and over again.

“Didn’t expect that tonight,” Rafe said after regaining his breath with a laugh.

“Me either,” you replied. “I think you fucked the high out of my system.” Rafe chuckled and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger for a brief moment before pulling away.

“I didn’t know you were thinking about this,” he said, motioning their naked bodies. “I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”

You lifted your head and used your hands to cup his jaw and the pads of your thumbs stroked the apples of his cheeks. You nodded slowly and leaned to press a kiss to his lips. It was a short kiss, but Rafe grined when you lean back to look at him.

“You’ll always be my number one, okay?” Rafe noded. “I feel safe with you. I always will.”

“Let’s go back to my place and sleep, yeah?”

***

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triptuckers · 3 years

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Two Homes (part 5/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: no Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: even though you were determined to leave the palace as soon as you could, you now find yourself waking up in a luxurious room of the palace months later Warnings: angst Word count: 4.7K..... yea A/N: for the sake of this series, nikolai never gave alina the lantsov emerald lol also this turned out longer than I planned it to be but do I regret it? maybe a bit not in the slightest, enjoy reading! :) (also I know I posted part 4 like yesterday but I want this one out there cause a lot happens & I want to post part 6 & 7 so bad) PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting@im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 add yourself to my tag lists here

For someone who had dreaded going to Os Alta, you find yourself starting to actually like it. After pulling you aside, out of earshot of your father, Nikolai explained to you why he told your father he’d picked you as his bride.

When he told you it was to ensure he couldn’t control your life any longer, you got confused, asking him why he would do such thing. In response, he recalled the conversation you had at the gardens, when you told him your father had been controlling your entire life, and how people had made decisions for him his entire life as well.

Nikolai merely said he thought you deserved to make your own choices for once. Even if it meant living at the palace, far away from Ketterdam.

You had agreed to stay at the palace. You knew you couldn’t go back to Ketterdam now. The news of Nikolai picking you as his bride would probably travel faster than you’d like to.

While you did like Nikolai, and you enjoyed the little time you had spent with him, you made it clear you still didn’t want to marry him. That a part of still longed for Ketterdam.

Nikolai listened to you explaining your choices, and respected them. While both of you knew all eyes would be on you after announcing the engagement, you also knew you couldn’t push it back any further. Not after all the rumours.

He did agree to wait with picking an actual wedding date, giving you enough time to get used to your new life. You had told him you had no intention of marrying him, but over time you found yourself thinking more and more about it.

You’re amazed by the palace, and the life you live now. Every day, you walk around the palace, finding new routes and rooms. You start to think you might never see all of it in one lifetime. And you visit the gardens as well.

You keep the yellow flower Nikolai had given you next to the mirror in your room. But you’d never tell him that, he’d tease you endlessly about it.

As more weeks pass by, you spend more time with Nikolai, as well as his triumvirate. He’d invited you to few of their meetings, telling you if you ever did get married, you’d have to attend them as well. And the sooner you got used to it, the better.

At first, it felt a little weird. You walk around with Nikolai and everyone knows you as his future bride. While it feels odd, Nikolai’s presence is a comforting one. And the more you get to know him, the more you actually start to like him. Maybe staying at the palace wouldn’t be so bad as you thought it would be.

He spends a lot of time getting to know you. You have long conversations about your life in Ketterdam and his time in the army. About both of your dreams for the future, and what you want to achieve. But you also talk about small and simple things such as your favourite dish, or a book you love.

Most of the talks take place in the gardens or your room. You like getting to know the Nikolai beneath the mantle of king. You start to realise the two of you aren’t so different. If you had been born in a different city, you might have been childhood friends.

On a particularly sunny spring morning, the two of you walk around the gardens again. Nikolai doesn’t even have to offer his arm to you, you already place your hand on it. After some time, you’ve slipped into an easy morning routine, which sometimes includes a walk through the gardens.

‘How long until the Summers Week blooms again?’ you ask him as you walk past the familiar bush.

Nikolai glances at the same bush. ‘Probably a couple of months.’ he says. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘I think they’re beautiful.’ you as the two of you sit down on the same bench you sat on so many months ago, when you had escaped the ball. ‘It really is a shame they only bloom for such a short period of time.’

‘Do you still have that one flower I gave you when we met?’ asks Nikolai.

You glare at him. You just know he’d never let you forget it if he knew you kept it. ‘Yes.’ you say. ‘I wouldn’t throw it away.’

And indeed, a smug look appears on Nikolai’s face. ‘I’m delighted you didn’t throw it away.’ he says.

You playfully roll your eyes. ‘I expect a new one when they bloom again.’ you say.

‘I’ll make sure to give you one, sweetheart.’ he says with a smile.

You feel your cheeks heat up at the mention of the nickname. He’d called you nicknames on more than one occasion. You still weren’t used to it. Maybe it had to do something with the fact that Nikolai seems to always look good.

You look at the bush again, getting lost in your thoughts. Nikolai seems to notice. After a while of silence, he speaks up.

‘What’s on your mind?’ he asks you.

You wonder when get got so good at reading your face. ‘I’ve been thinking about, well, all of this.’ you say, gesturing to the gardens and the palace behind you.

Nikolai turns so he can properly look at you. ‘And?’ he says.

‘I have to admit, life at the grand palace isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. And it has been nice not to have my father following me around all day long. I still miss Ketterdam, but maybe not as much as I used to.’ you say.

You briefly look at Nikolai and notice a faint smile on his lips as he’s listening to you.

‘Plus, the company isn’t so bad.’ you say. ‘I know I made it clear I didn’t want this. But the time I've spent here has been very nice. Everyone is so kind, and I love the walks around the palace.’

‘What exactly are you saying, Y/N?’ says Nikolai, though the look on his face tells you he already knows.

You take a deep breath. ‘I’m saying I’m willing to do this. I think I could be happy here. I’m willing to marry you. Even it it’s just for the sake of Ravka. I’d rather marry you than some old merchant back in Kerch.’ you say.

Nikolai smiles. ‘That’s good to hear.’ he says. ‘Was it my dashing smile or charming personality that made you decide to stay?’

‘Don’t get cocky now, Nikolai.’ you chuckle.

‘Sweetheart, have you actually met me? I’ll always be cocky.’ he says.

You laugh and Nikolai reaches out to take one of your hands in his.

‘But on a more serious note, I really am glad you decided to stay. I didn’t lie when I said you’re nice company.’ he says. ‘And now I can finally give you this.’

He gets something out of his pocket and holds it in his closed fist.

‘Close your eyes.’ he says.

You slightly raise your eyebrows. ‘Really?’ you say.

‘Really.’ says Nikolai, smirking at you.

You do as he says and close your eyes. You feel how Nikolai lifts your hand and slides something on your finger. You feel the weight of it on your finger and can tell what it is before Nikolai tells you to open your eyes.

A ring with a beautiful green emerald sits on your finger. Your lips part in surprise. He doesn’t even have to say it, you know this ring.

‘This is the Lantsov emerald.’ you say as you look at him.

‘It’s really just an emerald like any others.’ says Nikolai, looking at your hand which is still in his. ‘But that is what most people call it, yes.’

You admire the ring on your finger. ‘It’s beautiful.’ you say. When you look up, you see Nikolai looking at you with an odd expression on his face.

‘What is it?’ you say.

He simply smiles at you and shakes his head. ‘Nothing.’ he says. He gets up and offers you his arm again. ‘Shall we go back to the palace? It’s almost lunch time.’

You nod and get up as well but instead of laying your hand on his arm, you grab his hand and intertwine your fingers with his instead. The two of you walk back to the palace, and you try to ignore the way people look at your left hand, clearly eyeing the emerald ring.

This would be yet another rumour that would spread impossibly fast. You had to write another letter to the Crow Club soon. You’d rather have your friends find out through you, than because of rumours.

You’d been writing letters to the Crows since you decided you stay at the palace. You told them about your life at the palace, and in return they told you what was going on in Ketterdam.

You loved receiving letters from them. They each took turns writing you, and all of them signed the letter.

Once you had lunch, Nikolai got called away to another meeting, and you went to your room to write a letter to Ketterdam. As usual, you started off by asking them how they were doing, if any jobs went wrong, and a new prediction on how many card games Jesper had lost.

You then wrote about finally accepting the fact you’d marry Nikolai. Despite the chances being low they could attend, you invited them to the wedding anyway. You told them you’d send them a formal invitation with the date as soon as you picked a date.

And then the chaos started. Genya insisted on being in charge of the planning, and she also sketched you a few designs for your wedding dress. They were all equally stunning, and you couldn’t pick one. Eventually, Nikolai picked the one he thought would suit you best.

Zoya was in charge of putting together the guest list. When she asked you who you wanted to invite, you gave her the names of the Crows. She seemed a bit taken aback you’d invite them because after all, they were criminals. You hadn’t yet told her you’d been part of the Crows for many years as well.

When you looked at the list she was writing, you noticed your father’s name on it as well. He’d sent you many letters, which you ignored. You took the pen from Zoya’s hand and crossed his name off the list without a word.

Time seemed to fly by at an alarmingly speed. Before you know it, you wake up on the morning of your wedding. Until this day, it seemed like a strange concept somehow. As if you couldn’t fully realise it.

But when your eyes land on your wedding dress, you feel like for the first time, the realisation of what’s about to happen finally sinks in. You would marry Nikolai. You would take his name and you would become a queen. Of a country that’s not even your own.

A knock on your door catches you off guard and you call for them to come in. Genya enters, followed by a few servants. She’s beaming at you, clearly excited about today.

‘Are you ready?’ she says.

‘More like the most nervous I’ve ever been.’ you say.

Genya smiles at you as she sits down on the bed next to you. ‘I understand you’re nervous.’ she says. ‘But I promise you it’ll be alright. We’ll all be here right beside you. And it’s just one day.’

‘One day of ceremonies and traditions and then I’m a queen.’ you say, having an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

‘Nikolai will be there by your side. And we will be there as well.’ says Genya. ‘Now let’s get you in that dress.’

She rises to her feet and motions for you to get up as well. You hesitate.

‘Could you, um, go and get Nikolai?’ you ask her, avoiding her eyes. ‘I want to talk to him.’

‘Of course.’ she says and she immediately leaves the room. You get up and start to pace the room, ignoring the servants who are patiently waiting for you. It doesn’t take long for Genya to return with Nikolai.

Nikolai smiles at you and asks the servants and Genya to leave the room, which they do.

By the looks of it, Genya caught him while he was getting dressed. His hair is still messy and his shirt is hastily tucked into his pants. He walks up to you, looking at you.

‘What can I do for you?’ he says.

‘I’m nervous.’ you say.

‘If it helps, I’m nervous too.’ he says.

‘But you always manage to hide it behind a curtain of flirty comments and confidence.’ you say. ‘I wish I could do that.’

‘Y/N, just because I always know what to say, doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous.’ says Nikolai.

He reaches out to take your hand in his and walks you back to your bed, where you sit down.

‘Listen, it’s completely normal to be nervous. It’s a big day. A lot of important people are going to be present. But I want you to be okay with this, so do you still want to do this?’ he says.

You look at him and frown. ‘Yes, of course!’ you say. ‘We’re not going to cancel this whole thing because I’m nervous. I just hope I won’t throw up because of the nerves.’

Nikolai chuckles. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fine.’ he says. ‘If it makes you feel better, we could practice.’

You frown again. ‘Practice what? I know how weddings work, Nikolai.’ you say.

‘It wasn’t the entire wedding I was talking about.’ says Nikolai.

You look at him, waiting for him to continue. He looks at your lips instead.

‘Oh.’ you say softly. That was what he meant.

Nikolai slowly inches closer to you, leaning in. His eyes switch from your lips to your eyes, silently asking permission. You give the barest of nods and Nikolai closes the remaining space between you, softly pressing his lips against yours.

You close your eyes and focus on the feeling of his lips on yours. All of the nerves seem to leave your body as you easy into him. When he pulls away, your faces are still close to each other.

‘Well if that’s what you call practicing, I wonder what the real thing is going to do to top that.’ you say.

Nikolai laughs at your words. ‘You’re getting better at your comebacks with every passing day, sweetheart.’ he says.

‘I learn from the best.’ you say, smiling at him.

‘Are you ready for this?’ says Nikolai.

‘I am now.’ you say with a hint of newfound confidence.

Nikolai nods and gets up. ‘I’ll call Genya back.’ he says.

You get up as well and walk with him to the door. Before opening it, Nikolai takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. With a wink, he opens the door and steps out into the hallway.

Once Genya and the servants enter, she immediately drags you over and pushes you into a chair to do your hair.

‘You don’t seem nervous anymore.’ she says.

‘I’m not.’ you say. ‘Nikola and I, uh, talked about it.’ you say, unable to stop your cheeks from turning red.

Genya smiles knowingly at you. ‘I’m sure it was a good talk then.’ she says, emphasising the word “talk”.

‘It was.’ you say, avoiding her eyes.

The smile never leaves Genya’s face as she finishes with doing your hair. The servants help you to get in the dress, and you finally look at yourself in the mirror. Genya had really outdone herself with the dress. It looks beautiful on you, as if it was meant to be.

You turn to look at her. ‘Thank you.’ you say. ‘Truly. It’s perfect.’

‘Don’t thank me. Nikolai is the one who picked the dress.’ she says. ‘Are you ready to go?’

You take a deep breath and nod. Genya links her arm through yours and you start walking toward the small chapel on the palace grounds. The guests had already arrived and were gathered inside. You can hear them talking and chatting excitedly even outside the chapel.

Genya hugs you tightly and disappears inside the chapel. After a few deep breaths to calm yourself again, you firmly plant your feet on the ground. No going back now.

The doors to the chapel open and you watch as the guests all rise. A last deep breath, and you start walking. Were there really this many people on the list Zoya had put together?

You start to feel nervous again, but then you see Nikolai looking at you. He’s smiling brightly, and looks very handsome. You remember the feeling of his lips on yours, and find your confidence once more.

You slowly walk down the aisle, smiling as well, and your eyes are fixed on Nikolai. When you finally make it to the front of the chapel, Nikolai smiles as you stop walking.

‘Still nervous?’ he whispers softly, so only you can hear it.

‘Not anymore, thanks to you.’ you whisper back.

You take a quick look at the crowd. You only recognise the people that lived at the palace as well. Thankfully, you don’t see your father in the crowd. But your heart sinks as you don’t spot your Crows either. They didn’t come.

You had invited them. Maybe they feared being captured if they risked coming to Os Alta? Whatever their reason was, you’re sure it was a good one. You’d send them a letter after the wedding, asking them if maybe an important job had come up. But still, it hurt a little they wouldn’t attend your wedding.

The wedding itself seems to last minutes. You’re only focused on Nikolai. He holds your hand and you’re grateful he does. It helps keep you grounded. You had expected the wedding to be grand because after all, it is a royal one. But once you leave the chapel, hand in hand with Nikolai, you realise it turned out to be even better than you expected.

The two of you are silent as you walk through the halls of the palace. You see the door to your room in the distance, but Nikolai walks right past it. When you raise your eyebrows in question at him, he points at the door to his room in the distance.

‘They’d expect us to share a room. It’d be a bit weird if we got married but sleep in separate rooms.’ he says. ‘Don’t worry, the bed is large enough to fit both of us without having to cuddle close. Not that I would mind if you did.’

You chuckle at his words as he opens the door to his room. You’re thankful to be away from all the guests. You appreciated that they all came to attend the wedding, but you got tired of listening to their congratulations over and over again.

Once the door closes behind you, you immediately bend down to take off your heels. You watch as Nikolai shrugs off his suit jacket and runs a hand through his hair.

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ he says.

‘It wasn’t bad at all.’ you say.

Nikolai studies your face. ‘But there’s something on your mind.’ he says.

‘I just...’ your voice trails off as you try to find the best way to voice your thoughts. Nikolai takes your hand and pulls you down to sit on the bed with him.

‘I thought they would come.’ you say softly. ‘I invited them, and I know I haven’t seen them in a while, but I thought they’d at least come to my wedding. I spent years with them.’

‘Maybe something else got in the way? Maybe something came up and they simply couldn’t make it?’ suggest Nikolai.

You shake your head. ‘Even if Kaz would plan a job, Jesper and Nina would burn down all of Ketterdam if a job prevented them from attending my wedding.’ you say. ‘I can’t think of a single reason why they wouldn’t come. I thought I meant more to them.’

‘What if you write them another letter? I’m sure if you just ask them, they’ll explain why they couldn’t be there.’ says Nikolai.

‘I was going to write them about it anyway.’ you say. ‘But first I want to change. As beautiful as this dress is, it’s incredibly heavy.’

‘I had a servant move some of your belongings here already.’ says Nikolai. ‘A part of the closet is now yours.’

‘Thank you.’ you say and you walk over to the closet, opening it. You pick one of your comfortable dresses and go to the bathroom to change. When you get back, you see Nikolai hasn’t changed yet. You didn't mind. He really looked good in a formal suit.

You move to sit behind Nikolai’s desk to write a letter to Ketterdam. You try to sound polite, but a part of you wants to just write what you’re actually thinking. But the Crows mean the world to you, and you don’t want to hurt them or piss them off.

Once you finish the letter, you seal it and hand it to a servant, telling them it’s urgent.

When you get back to the room, you find Nikolai sitting at his desk, fidgeting with something in his hands. Curiously, you walk over to him.

‘What are you doing?’ you say.

Nikolai looks up and holds out his hand to you. On his palm is a small boat, made out of a piece of rope. You carefully take it from his hand to examine it.

‘How did you learn how to make this?’ you as him.

He shrugs. ‘A lot of practicing.’ he says.

You smile and hand the little boat back to him. ‘It’s nice.’ you say. ‘Could you teach me how to make one?’

Nikolai nods and pulls out a second chair for you. He spends the rest of the evening trying to teach you how to make a boat out of a piece of rope. While his fingers move smoothly and create the boats with ease, you struggle with it. After all, he had probably done it for many years, whereas you’re only trying it out for the first time.

When you successfully finish your first boat, you decide to call it a night and go to sleep. Nikolai hadn’t been lying; the bed was big enough to fit the both of you comfortably without invading each other’s personal space.

Your usual routines don’t change much. Except for the fact you know share a room and a bed. And you notice there are more lingering glances between the two of you.

Like Nikolai had said, you’re expected to attend important meetings as well. You try to listen to it, but sometimes the meetings just aren’t interesting in your eyes. Luckily you always sit next to Nikolai, who is able to nudge your leg with his boot if he thinks you’re starting to zone out.

You have breakfast together every morning, expect for the mornings when Nikolai isn’t at the palace. You practice making boats out of rope, and you’re improving. Nikolai’s still turn out better than yours, but you’re getting there.

Every day, you ask if there’s mail for you. But somehow the Crows don’t send letters as frequently as they used to. And they had never given you a proper explanation as to why they didn’t attend your wedding.

Most of the times when you’re lost in thought, you’re thinking about Ketterdam. You hadn’t been there in months, not since the ball. It’s as if the longer you stay at the palace, the more you miss Ketterdam.

The city had always felt like home. And no matter how much you like spending time at the palace with Nikolai, you can’t help but to feel guilty for being away from Ketterdam for so long. You miss the city, and you miss your Crows.

Nikolai must have noticed something is bothering you, but you dodge his questions. You try to come up with excuses, but eventually, he pulls you aside and stands in front of the door, preventing you from slipping away.

‘Out with it.’ he says. ‘What is going on?’

You look at him, not sure what to say.

‘Is it our marriage? Do you regret it? Is that why you’re avoiding talking with me?’ says Nikolai.

‘Of course not!’ you quickly say. ‘Nikolai, I do not regret our marriage. I happen like you a lot.’

‘Then what is it?’ says Nikolai. ‘You’re not yourself and I can tell something is bothering you. Let me help you.’

‘I don’t know where to start.’ you say softly, lowering your head and looking at your feet. It all seemed so childish now.

‘I miss Ketterdam.’ you say softly. You feel tears burning behind your eyes. ‘I miss the harbour, and the tourists flooding the docks. I miss playing card games with Jesper, and going out with Nina. I miss talking with Inej and going over Kaz’ plans with him. I even miss reading to Wylan and trying to win a drinking contest from Matthias. I miss the Crow Club, and their laughter. I miss all of it.’

You see how Nikolai’s feet step closer to you and his hands cup your face, tilting it upward so you look at him. He brushes a tear away with his thumb.

‘It’s alright to miss Ketterdam.’ he says. ‘You left everything behind, I understand it if you miss it. It’s been your home for so long.’

‘But this is my home now.’ you say, your voice trembling slightly. ‘Here in Os Alta, with you. I shouldn’t long to go back to Ketterdam as much as I do.’

Nikolai smiles at you, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. ‘I told you a long time ago I won’t let anyone else control the choices you make in life, sweetheart. If you want to go to Ketterdam, I think you should go.’ he says.

You stare up at him, letting his words sink in. ‘But I’m your wife. You’d let me go just like that?’ you say.

‘You are indeed my wife. But I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. If you think you’re happier in Ketterdam than you are at the palace, then you should go. Go and be happy.’ he says.

‘But I'm happy with you too.’ you say. ‘I just miss my home, that’s all.’

He smiles again. ‘Then you should go home. This is not goodbye forever, you know.’ he says.

‘Not goodbye forever.’ you say, repeating his words.

You stand on your toes and lean up to kiss him. Nikolai pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around his waist in response. When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.

‘Go.’ he says softly. ‘Go to your Ketterdam, go to your Crows. I’m sure they’d love to see you again.’

You nod and pull yourself out of his embrace. Nikolai watches you as you quickly pack a bag with some essentials. You can’t bear to look at him again as you walk past him, out of the room.

You didn’t know Nikolai followed you from a distance, to see you off. As soon as you got on a horse and left the gates, he stands at the top of the stairs that lead to the entrance of the palace.

He watches you as you become a smaller and smaller dot on the horizon. The triumvirate, who had seen the two of you leave, joins him on the steps, wondering what Nikolai is looking at.

‘Was that Y/N? says Zoya. ‘Where is she going?’

‘Back to Ketterdam.’ says Nikolai.

Zoya turns to Nikolai. ‘You let her go?’ she says. ‘Saints, Nikolai, why did you let her go?’

Nikolai doesn’t say anything and continues to look at the horizon. Genya is studying Nikolai’s face as he looks at you in the distance. Her lips part in surprise, but her eyes are sad.

‘Because he loves her.’ says Genya.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#HA 😌#me writing this & knowing what's gonna happen: hehe #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfics #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fics #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fics #two homes series

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nazyalenskyism · 3 years

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Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans

Summary: A Zoyalai fic based on the prompt: “Some angst and comfort. Some reunion after a very, very long time.” send me a promt and i’ll write you a blurb

“Do you see her?” Genya called out, scanning the waves of people disembarking the ships on her tiptoes. It had been months since Zoya had been stationed in the Wandering Isle, a position she had specifically asked him for before the war had ended as they walked through the streets of Ketterdam. Despite Genya’s insistence that Zoya not leave, the two of them had known that it was a necessity. They were too close to crossing a line that they couldn’t afford to, and they had silently agreed that distance was the only way to remedy the problem. Nikolai had known that leading the country into a peaceful era was going to be taxing, but he hadn’t imagined how difficult it was going to be without Zoya at his side. He had come to rely on her, not only for matters of the state, but for matters of the mind too, and ever since she’d left all those months ago, he’d only felt the discontent in his heart grow. He thought he could temper his want for Zoya if she wasn’t constantly at his side, but he’d come to learn that there was a reason for the famous saying, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’, being so popular. Nikolai could hear his general’s voice in his ear, could picture the roll of her eyes at the confession, how she would threaten to call Tolya into the room so that the two could lament over forlorn poetry while she got drunk with Tamar, Genya and Nadia. Saints, he missed her.

“It’s dropped anchor late,” Nikolai called back, slipping his timepiece back into his pocket, brushing his fingers against the cool velvet ribbon before turning to Genya. “And besides, it’ll take them a bit to disembark and--”

“Nikolai,” Genya gasped in response to a sudden commotion at the gangplank. Nikolai’s head snapped up spotting the daub of blue silk descending down the plank, supported on either side by First Army soldiers. Zoya. “Move,” Genya yelled, elbowing her way through the crowd, Nikolai hot on her heels. If the sickly pallor of her face and droopy lids of her eyes weren’t alarming enough, the way that she crumpled into his arms was and matted blood in her hair were.

“Commander Nazyalensky? Zoya?” A low, unintelligible groan sounded from her lips and Nikolai’s heart dropped. What had happened to her? At Genya’s command, he laid Zoya out on the ground, letting Tamar assess her condition. Tamar’s hands hovered over Zoya’s form, and after a long moment, the Heartrender spoke. “She should be fine, but we need to get her back to the Dacha, we need more healers.”

Genya grasped at Tamar as Nikolai carefully lifted his general into his arms, “is it that bad?” “She’s lost a lot of blood, it’s a messy and difficult process that I don’t want to try in the back of the carriage. She should be okay.”

“She has to be fine. I can’t lose her too.” Tamar squeezed the other girl’s shoulder at the words before hopping into the driver’s seat with Tolya, briefing him on the situation while the others settled into the coach. “Come on, Nazyalensky. Hold on a little while longer,” Nikolai whispered as they tore down the road, Zoya’s unconscious form limp in his arms, Genya’s shaking fingers curled into the blue silk of her kefta, as if she could force Zoya to stay with them.

The next few hours were a blur in his mind. As soon as the carriage stopped, the Tolya offered to take Zoya in his arms but Nikolai refused to leave, carrying her to his chambers. For once his head was clear of anything but the situation at hand. They’d lost so much, they couldn’t afford to lose Zoya. He couldn’t bear to lose Zoya. He stood by the window as the healers got to work on his general, applying their training in the small science to replenish her blood and heal her wounds. Nikolai knew that the Corporalki were more than capable, but he knew as well as anyone the potential for things to go wrong, no matter how good the odds were.

Nikolai was brought a basin of water to wash off with, a stack of urgent letters, and the reports from the crew of the ship and their account of the events that had left Zoya in this state. Once he’d read the reports, he sent the letters away, nothing was more urgent than this. After what seemed like an eternity, Tolya sent the healers away, stating that he and Tamar could finish the job themselves, but he knew the reason they did this. It was because Zoya would’ve hated to appear vulnerable before this many people, she would probably admonish them all after she woke up for having the audacity to view her in her injured state, despite being her closest friends. It was when they were alone, Genya in one corner of the room, Nikolai in the other, with the twins standing over Zoya when the silence was broken once more. “You’re not allowed to let her leave again.” He scrubbed a hand over his face before turning to Genya, “even if I tried, do you think she would listen? Zoya Nazyalensky takes orders from no one, we all know that.” “Don’t let her look for reasons to leave. Give her a reason to stay. ” Before Nikolai could fully process the meaning behind her words, a low groan caught their attention. “Nikolai?” I’m here, he wanted to say, but for the first time in his life, apprehension held him back. “Where’s Nikolai,” she mumbled again, writhing enough to disrupt the twins’ work. He was at her side in an instant, sinking onto the mattress and taking her reaching hand in his. “I’m here,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from face, watching the crease in her brow ease as she unconsciously leaned into his touch. Her movements stopped, her body relaxing back into sleep, and Nikolai felt his heart tighten at the way she curled into him. He felt stares from their friends, but no one said anything aside from Zoya’s occasional calls from him whenever he stepped back to let the twins continue their work. Every time she called, he was there, brushing back her hair, holding her hand between his, murmuring words of encouragement he knew she wouldn’t hear or remember. Around twilight, Nikolai realized that his friends had left them, the quiet of the room felt suffocating now that they were alone. It felt wrong that she was the one injured and asleep while he watched over her, for months their positions had been reversed, and while he hadn’t missed being chained to his bed every night he had missed the time it had given him with her. She had been the first thing he saw in the morning, the last thing he saw at night for months, and he hadn’t realized just how much he missed what that particular practice of theirs had given him. He slowly pulled his hand from hers, easing into a chair at her bedside. “I’m sorry I let you go,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment before he heard her voice.

“Nikolai?” “I’m here,” he replied, helping her into a sitting position, and filling up a glass of water for her before settling down himself. “You’re really here?” “I know it’s hard to believe, as handsome as I am, I’m not a dream.” He smiled at her irritated exhale, “long time no see, Nazyalensky. You’re looking as darling as ever.”

“You look worse. Much worse than I remember.”

“I know I must be devilishly handsome in your fantasies, but a day spent tirelessly at your bedside may have me looking a little worse for wear, I’ll admit.” “Where are we?” Her dark lashes fluttered against her golden cheeks, voice hoarse but the colour seemed to have returned to her face.

“Udova. The twins said that you needed more Corporalki to help stabilize you. You lost a lot of blood.”

“This is your ancestral estate?”

“Given how my father is Fjerdan, I don’t think it’s technically mine.”

“You used to come here as a child?” faint amusement lit her eyes, “baby Nikolai reigning terror on everyone, or holed away in the library, reading books until you couldn’t see straight?” “Both.”

“Of course, I would expect nothing less.” A lingering silence followed her words, neither sure of exactly how to proceed. “How are you feel--”

“You look tired,” her hand reached out, and before he could react, she was cupping his face softly, thumb gently stroking along his cheek. “Have you been sleeping?” “Yes.”

Her stern gaze met his eyes, “your lies don’t work on me.”

“First you’re immune to my charm, and now my lies. Keep this up and you’ll put me out of business, Nazyalensky.”

Zoya’s hand dropped suddenly, her whole body recoiling at his words, leaving him to shudder from the absence of her warmth. Was she so horrified at the mere idea of being charmed by him? Nikolai sank back into his chair, unsure of how to proceed. Zoya sat staring down stubbornly at her intertwined fingers, and he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed answers. “What happened out there? You almost died Zoya.”

“I was protecting the crew.”

“You were unnecessarily throwing yourself in harm's way and you know it. I got the report from the Captain, he said that they would’ve made it safely to port without your heroics.”

“I had no choice! It was either me or them.” Nikolai laughed humorlessly, running a frustrated hand through his hair, an action he had repeated countless times today. “That’s not true and you know it. Four years as Commander of the Second Army, of working with me and you couldn’t come up with an alternative? Do you get joy out of nearly getting yourself killed?”

“No,” she hissed. “You would’ve done the exact same thing without a moment of hesitation, don’t act like you wouldn't have.”

“It doesn’t matter what I would’ve done. What matters is that you shouldn't have done it in the first place.”

“I’m a single soldier, I’m expendable. The intel we gathered, my unit, the crew, they weren’t. It was an easy choice, one I’d make again.”

“For Saints sake, you’re not expendable Zoya!” he burst out. Why was she so convinced that she was?

“I was there to lead them--to protect them. If you’re worried about being down a general, you know there are more than capable replacements for me, Nikolai. ”

“You’re not replaceable! I don’t need anyone else. I need you, Zoya!” The words were breathless, and once they were out he couldn’t reel them back in.

His words hung in the air before she began to nod slowly, as if she had been expecting the outburst, “as your general.” It wasn’t a question, but it was.

“Yes, but it’s more than that.” Why was he having such difficulty saying it? How did he explain the all encompassing nature of his feelings to Zoya? Brave and beautiful Zoya, with her eyes hesitantly, maybe even hopefully trained on him? Nikolai wanted to take her into his arms and explain that ever since they’d been dragged into the Fold by Saints, he had felt a connection to her, that he could taste the ice wine they shared on quiet nights, smell her signature scent of wildflowers on the wind wherever she was near. He wanted to tell her that he felt a connection between them, as palpable as a golden thread binding them together, and wondered if she felt it too. Nikolai desired to tell her that at her departure, he had felt like the thread had been pulled and pulled until he couldn’t breathe, only for it to suddenly snap back like an elastic at the news of her return, an overwhelming sensation of longing overtaking his senses. He wanted to tell her that when he first saw her today, it had felt like someone had pierced his chest with a lance, an agony rivaling only what he’d felt when being impaled by the thornwood that day in the Fold, the same day he’d felt his fate be irreversibly bound to hers. He wanted so much, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward in his chair, uttering words he could never take back.

“I want you. I want you all the time, Zoya.”

“You want me, but will you have me? Are you not bound to your duty as king to choose the best person for your country?” To anyone else her face would appear impassive but he knew the way her eyes widened slightly, the way her lips parted, when she was holding her breath, afraid to hope that something was true. She wanted it to be true.

“If my country and I are one and the same,” he began, taking her hand in his, “then I shall only give it what it most deserves, and hope I am worthy of it too.”

“Can you let yourself do that?” “A king can do as he pleases, can’t he?” She turned away at those words, and Nikolai reached out, cupping her face and bringing her gaze back to him. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t stay. I thought we both knew what was right at the time, and it’s clear that we were both wrong.” “Go on,” she whispered, her shining eyes locked on his. “I don’t want you to leave again. I want you here, by my side, for as long as time will let me, if that’s what you want.” “What are you proposing?” Her hand slid up to his and she leaned further into his touch. “A coquettish courtship, a exuberant engagement, a whirlwind wedding and when all that’s said and done,” he angled his head towards hers, “hopefully many, many years of peaceful and quiet companionship.” “Sounds perfect,” Zoya breathed, her gaze trained on his lips, “except for one thing.” Nikolai pulled back, afraid that he’d alarmed her, “what?” She wrapped her arm around the back of his neck, pulling him down towards her, “you expect me to believe that a single moment with you will be quiet.” “I can think of several ways you can shut me up if I ever get to be too much. I think you’ll find that I am easily--” Zoya crashed her lips against his, and despite the harsh words she always seemed to have readily on hand, he felt her smile against him. For once in his life, Nikolai let himself relax, knowing that the rest of the world would still be there when they were ready to face it, together.

#zoyalai #zoyalai fic #row fic #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #my writings

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my-unmanageable-mischief · 3 years

Text

In This Together

For the Anon who requested : Could you write a fic where Draco and his twin (Y/N) have to go back to Hogwarts after the war and now they are the ones being bullied after bullying others for all those years? maybe a lot of angst?

Angst and a bit of sibling fluff for you!

Draco Malfoy x Sister!Reader

You stopped walking as you approached the blank expanse of wall between platforms 9 and 10, your brother was walking ahead of you, and stopped when he no longer felt your presence. You were just standing there, eyes big, a large frown on your face. Draco responded with a frown of his own.

“What’s that matter?” He asked, and you looked away from the wall to gaze up at him.

“I don’t want to go.” You stated, clinging to your owl’s cage for dear life. Your brother let go of the trolley he was pushing with both of your trunks and beckoned you towards him. You came to him, eyes downcasted.

“Look at me,” He spoke softly, placing a hand under your chin and tilting your head up so you were looking into his eyes. His face was soft, a look he reserved for only you in moments you were alone. He moved his hand and brushed some of your hair from your face. “It’ll be alright, Y/N.” He promised you, but you couldn’t believe him when you knew even he didn’t believe his words.

“It’s not going to be how it used to be, everyone.. Everyone knows..” Knew what? You weren’t sure specifically. Knew your family was rotten, knew your father was a death eater up until the moment it no longer served him. He was a coward, and the Malfoy name was tainted with blood.

“Nothing ever stays the same for long,” He reminded you. “We are Malfoys, we will hold our heads high, and we will triumph. If not today, tomorrow.” He assured and you felt slightly better. That was until someone banged into you, sending you into your brother's chest. Draco grabbed you and looked over your head. A group of 6th year Gyffindor girls past you, sending you withering looks as they smirked and giggled to themselves.

“Alright traitors?” They asked, all lifting their sleeves and pretending to touch their wands to invisible dark marks.

“What ever will you do without a master to serve?” They asked, and you winced. Draco glared, putting an arm around your shoulder and turning you away from them, grabbing the trolley again and stalking away, guiding you with him.

“Ignore them, they’re idiots.” He whispered.

“They’re right,” You muttered mostly to yourself. Draco looked at you and sighed before nodding towards the wall.

“Go first,” You nodded back and held your cage close to your chest as you jogged towards the wall, passing through it like it was air. A moment later and Draco was by your side again. He steered you towards the train, giving your trunks to a worker to load before ushering you onto the train. You walked down the corridor, met by an array of stares, and glares, and whispers. Draco found an empty compartment and pulled you into it, shutting out the rest of the world.

“This is going to be hell,” You whispered, eyes welling slightly with tears, but you wouldn’t let them fall. He was right, you were a Malfoy and you had to hold your head high, even now.

“It will be alright. Once were settled in, kids will find something else to occupy themselves with, I assure you.” You sighed, leaning against the window and looking out at all the people milling about and smiling. Nothing ever stays the same for long, you repeated your brother’s words to you as comfort. Even the bad. Nothing ever stays the same for long.

However, this time, it did. The entire school was out to get you and your brother, at least that’s how it felt. The first week of class a group of Hufflepuffs of all people had cornered your brother, hexing him. He was in the hospital wing for two days, you by his side every moment. And it didn’t get better from there. Wherever you went you were met with glares and snide remarks.

Between preparing for your NEWT exams, enduring bullying like you’d never experienced before, and battling your brother’s rotten attitude; you were spiralling. So far only Draco had been physically assaulted, but you were constantly on edge, paranoid, watching your own back was hard and you were beginning to think your brother had given up. He wasn’t eating, and judging from the bags under his eyes, he wasn’t sleeping as well.

You were alone in a 5th floor corridor, sitting on the floor and writing an essay. The common room was becoming too much for you, too many people, too many stares. But you couldn’t go to the library either, without people bothering you with rhetorics on your family and mean words about how pathetic you all were. So you sat, alone, in the hallway.

Suddenly there were footsteps, and you looked up, seeing the same group of Gryffindors who had shoved you on the first day of school, and they were coming your way. Grinning ear to ear as they came to stop in front of you.

“Yes?” You asked, trying to hold your head high like your brother always reminded you to, but you had to admit, you were scared and terribly outnumbered.

“Hello little traitor,” The lead girl greeted you, “Kicked from your own common room? Even the Slytherins are embarrassed by you.” She sneered. You frowned, shaking your head. You didn’t need to explain yourself to this lot.

“No,” You replied simply, “Now kindly leave, I’m busy.”

“Awe, she’s busy.” She came towards you, ripping the parchment from your hands, you stood up, reaching for your wand.

“Give it back.”

“No,” She laughed, mocking you. She ripped the parchment into a million little pieces and tossed it into your face, “Stupid cow.” You winced, wand held loosely in your hand. “What are you gonna do about it? Gonna use an unforgivable curse on me?” She asked, and you turned away, picking up your bag to try and walk away but another one of the girls grabbed your strap, pulling you towards her.

“Hey!” You yelled, stumbling and tripping, you fell to your knees and looked up at the group with wide eyes.

“Awe she’s scared!”

“Petrificus Totalus” One of them pointed their wand at you and your entire body locked up, causing you to fall and land on your face. They flipped you over and grinned down at you. “You and your shitty family should have gone into hiding.” She informed you, and you couldn’t help but mentally agree.

“Furnunculus.” Another girl spoke and suddenly you were covered in violently painful boils and pimples, you would have cried out in pain if you weren’t immobilized.

“Now she looks as rotten as she is on the inside,” One of the girls spoke and they all laughed. Pain shot through your face as one of them kicked you in the nose, you felt the hot blood streaming down your face, but still couldn’t move. There was another set of footsteps from somewhere far away and the girls went running. You laid there, unable to move. The footsteps grew closer, and suddenly broke into a run, and your brother’s face appeared above you, eyes wild and wide.

“Y/N, Y/N!” He cried, afraid to touch you. He pulled his wand out and spoke the counter curse to unfreeze you. You shot up into a seated position, tears streaming down your face. The boils and broken nose were another story, Draco couldn’t fix those, “I’ve been looking all over for you,” He stated, reaching out to touch your face, causing you to wince in pain, “What happened? We need to get you to the hospital wing.”

“They ganged up on me, I was writing an essay,” You sobbed and Draco gently wrapped you into a hug, rubbing his hand over your hair, smoothing it down.

“Shh, it’s alright,” But it wasn’t, nothing was alright. “Come along,” He spoke softly, standing up and helping you up as well. He took your bag and slung it over his shoulder, offering you his arm for support. Together you slowly walked to the hospital wing.

“My goodness!” Madam Pomfrey cried when you came in, “Sit! Sit here!” She motioned towards a bed and Draco helped you towards it. You were thankful she didn’t ask what happened, she probably already knew. “Don’t move, let me get my potions.” Draco nodded and sat beside you on the bed, holding your hand. Pomfrey came back with several bottles and handed you one.

“This should take care of the boils.” You drank it quickly, gagging on the putrid taste of the thick liquid. You handed the bottle back, Draco never taking his eyes off you. “This is for the pain,” She handed you another bottle, and you drank it. This one tasted slightly better. She took the bottle back and handed you one more, “And a peppering up potion, you look.. Exhausted, my dear.” You thanked her and took it, drinking it quickly. She took her wand out, and reset your nose, causing you to cry out slightly in pain, making your brother wince in sympathy. She handed you a wet rag and you cleaned the blood up.

“Thanks,” You muttered and she nodded.

“Of course, darling, you will have to stay the night, maybe two, just until all the boils are gone.” You nodded and Draco thanked her as well. When she left, she pulled the curtains around your bed shut leaving you both alone. You laid down on the small hospital bed, your brother joining, laying beside you. You sat in uncomfortable silence for some time.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spoke and you turned to look at him confused.

“For what? You didn’t hex me.”

“I haven’t been taking care of you, I haven’t been watching after you,” His eyes were slightly red, was he crying? “I should have been. I was so caught up in my own misery, I forgot you, you were going through the same thing.” Your eyes welled with tears and you leaned into him.

“Don’t be sorry.” You whispered, and he wrapped you in a hug, pulling you close to him. You cuddled up into his side, the pain potion helping, you no longer hurt when you were simply touched.

“I am sorry, I am your brother. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe and I failed you.” He sniffled next to you, as you cried into his chest.

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” You sobbed out, voice cracking and his arms tightened around you.

“We will graduate soon, and we will never have to see these people again.”

“I don’t want to go home either,” You admitted, “I can’t stay here! Forever, just my surname will leave me plagued. We won’t get jobs, we won’t make friends, nothing.”

“So we will leave.” He assured you, “We will get through these next few months, together, and then we will leave. Somewhere where nobody knows who we are.” You pulled back far enough to look at him, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” He swore, placing a hand over his heart, “Anywhere you want to go, we will go. We will be okay. Nothing ever stays the same for long,” He reminded you and you began crying again. He pulled you back into an embrace, allowing you to bury your face in his chest as you both cried it out. Together, you and your brother against the world.

#Harry Potter #draco Malfoy #draco Malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x sister!reader

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marvelousstevetony · 3 years

Note

Could you do team on a mission, and Tony gets some pollen or something in his suit somehow? So he’s either sneezing or holding back sneezes the whole battle with Steve being all concerned and taking care of him after?

Love your writing. Thank you so much for all of your content ❤️

Ahh, thank you so much💖 I can’t even tell you how sorry I am for being this slow to write this, but I finally got around to doing it, so I hope you enjoy this small fic <3

~ ~ ~

“Iron Man, what’s your status?”

Cap’s voice sounds slightly tinny in Tony’s ear after the suit took a hit and apparently interrupted the connection to the comms. It’s stable enough for now, though.

“Just took out three in Central Park,” Tony reports, catching his breath, and glances over his shoulder to see the fragments of destroyed androids in the grass. “There was a fourth, but I think it got away.”

Tony looks around, but there’s no sign of another android, so he slides off his faceplate and takes in the scenery.

It’s a nice spring day; not too hot and not too cold either. Before the attack, families had been gathered around the park, children laughing and playing as their parents tried their best to keep them in check. There had been picnics and people eating ice cream as they soak up the sun that finally decided to show for the first time this week.

Of course, all good things have to come to an end, Tony grumbles internally.

The emergency alarm had gone off around noon, and within twenty minutes, the Avengers were spread all across the city, fighting of an army of robots. So, really, it’s just another Saturday for him and the rest of the gang.

“Alright,” Steve’s voice rattles in his ear. “Widow and I could use air support at Madison and 33rd.”

“On it, Ca— ugh.”

Tony groans as something comes at him from the side, the android clinging to the armour as they’re thrown several feet into the air, soaring through the trees and scrambling through the branches. He manages to shake of the android enough to blasts his repulsers at it, sending splinters of metal flying in every direction.

“Iron Man?” Steve prompts, slightly concerned at the grunt Tony had let out.

“On my way,” Tony assures.

As he hurries to help Steve and Nat, Tony slides his faceplate back up, only just realizing that it had been off while fighting the fourth robot.

When he arrives, hovering above the corner of Madison Ave and 33rd, Steve is fighting off three foes, slinging the shield around like a frisbee, the vibranium ricocheting off the androids and returning right back to him. Nat has on on her back and one between her legs, and somehow makes taking them out look effortless, just like everything else she does.

Though they’re standing their ground, Tony sees an army of about 25 coming their way, now understanding the need for assistance.

About to engage, Tony aims his repulsers at the group of bots, but suddenly, a sharp prickle in his nose distracts him.

Tony sniffles, trying to make the tingle back down, but to no avail. After a few seconds of wiggling his nose back and forth, the tickle grows too strong, and Tony has no choice but to deal with it.

“ng’tCHh! hh’NGxt! snff-snff!”

Tony stifles the sneezes the best he can, but they bring him no relief. Actually, the buzzing in his nose is only aggravated by this, and his entire face just feels itchy. Especially his eyes, which are now watering intensely as he gears up for another set of sneezes.

“h’h’huhh… huh-CHshoo! Ehh! IIShhoo! Guh…”

Though the second double is more satisfying than the first, Tony can still feel the lingering tickle in the back of his sinuses. Inside the helmet, Tony shakes his head in the hope that he could get rid of it that way, but instead it just sets off another sneeze.

“h’iish!”

“Tony, are you okay?”

Great.

Steve’s calling him by his name instead of Iron Man or Stark, which Tony knows means that he’s worried. He can hear in it the tone of his voice, too, and he can picture the crease between Steve’s eyebrows very clearly in his mind.

“Juuhhst peeh— peachy,” Tony manages through hitching breaths.

Knowing he’s on the precipice of the yet another fit, he slides the faceplate off and turns off the connection to the comms. He needs to just get the sneezes out of his system as fast as possible, but having the entire team listening in on it is definitely not something Tony wants. That’ll just be another distraction none of them have time to deal with.

“H’uhh… ehhh’usshhiew! H’usshoo! uhhEISHhoosh! h’h’h! huhESCHh’oo!”

God, what is happening? He doesn’t remember sneezing this badly since that time he and Steve went on a picnic and he had forgotten to take an allergy pill, but— oh.

Normally, the suit’s filtration system takes care of keeping the pollen from entering. But then, normally Tony doesn’t fly through what was unmistakably oak trees without his faceplate.

“huhhESHH’oo! EIIISHH’IEW! heH’eHSSCH’uh!”

Tony sighs exasperatedly after pitching forward with a triple that ripples through his body, sneezing freely and harshly. They’re so strong, too, that Tony can barely see through the allergic tears that have gathered in his eyes. He does make out a cape and blonde hair, though, and then there’s the sound of metal hitting metal.

When the itch has backed down a little and Tony can blink away the blurry vision, he sees Mjölnir return to Thor’s hand and about 10 androids worth of scraps splayed across the sidewalk.

The remaining androids are changeless against the assassin, the Demi-god and the super-soldier, but Tony has never been good at keeping himself out of a fight, even if they’ve already won. Besides, with Iron Man’s help, they should be able to finish this off rather quickly.

He puts the faceplate back on, though not without wincing slightly, knowing he’ll probably be an allergic mess later, what with how he voluntarily gets back inside the cloud of yellow-greenish dust.

He keeps the comms off for the rest of the battle, though, stifling the occasional sneezes back to the best of his abilities. Sometimes he can see Steve touching his earpiece and looking directly at him, trying to get through to him, appearing both confused and worried.

When the last of the robot is cut in half by the shield and the streets of Manhattan are covered in metal fragments, the team gathers right outside 200 Park Avenue. Bruce sat this one out after a unanimous decision that this wasn’t Code Green appropriate. Tony hadn’t really seen Clint throughout most the the battle, but he had probably been on the roofs as usual, taking out the enemies from a distance. Thor, Nat and Steve are all sweaty, the latter two probably more so than Thor. They don’t look half the mess Tony feels, though.

They agree to meet for debrief in an hour, giving them enough time to shower and grab something to eat before going over the details of the battle and initiating clean-up. Tony keeps mostly silent, uncharacteristically just giving an affirming nod before taking off to his room to get himself together.

“Tony!” Steve calls after him, but Tony is too busy getting out of there before another sneezing fit overcomes him to turn around.

He steps out of the armour as soon as he hits the landing pad, gasping dramatically as if he had been holding his breath the entire time, which, okay yeah, he had probably unconsciously been trying not to breathe in the pollen too much.

The relief washes over him for a few seconds, but the tickle that had been building for the better half of an hour hits him full force.

“H’ehhh… eiiiSH! ISH! h’h’h’Ish! ishew! Jesus Christ,” Tony mutters after a series of smaller, more itchy sounding sneezes as he heads towards the bedroom. They’re more rapid now, too, a real sign that this is his allergies getting to him.

Just as he reaches his room, he hears footsteps approaching. Tony is fidgeting with getting his shirt over his head, distracted by the buzzing that has him right on the verge of another sneeze, when the door opens.

“What the actual hell, Tony?”

Steve doesn’t yell, but his tone is slightly sharper than usual, more frustrated than angry.

“You can’t just…” Steve sighs. “I was trying to get in contact with you, Tony, you—“

Tony just manages to rip his shirt off, stripped down to his undershirt, when he can’t hold back the urge to let the sneezes out anymore.

“h’eiSH! huh’Ushh! Tssh! h’Ish! ish-ish-ish!”

The sneezes shudder through him, coming at a rate that leaves Tony no time to catch his breath in between. Fumbling for the nearest surface, Tony holds onto the chest of drawers to keep him from stumbling. His head is suddenly spinning from the rush of sneezes, knocking him off balance, and he feels as if he might’ve crashed onto the floor if Steve hadn’t immediately been at his side to stabilize him.

Steve’s hands are comforting and strong on his shoulders, calmly guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. He squats down in front of Tony, brushing his fingers through the brown curls, all messy from wearing the helmet. Then, as Steve about to cup Tony’s tear-stained cheek, Tony swats his hand away, jerking to the side.

“Tschsh! h’Chissh! Tsschoo! Oh… thanks,” Tony says breathlessly as Steve reaches to snag a tissue from the nightstand and presses it into his hand.

“Bless you, Tony.” Steve winces, a concerned frown plastered on his face. “What happened to you?” he asks, taking in the sight of Tony; the teary, red-rimmed eyes and constantly twitching nose instantly noticeable.

Tony gives a futile blow. “Got into a f-fiihhght with an oak treeehh… he’Ishh! snffSNFF!” he explains, gesturing vaguely to his face with the tissue.

“Looks like the oak tree won,” Steve guess, smiling a little now, because even though Tony looks truly miserable, he also looks quite cute when he’s all sensitive and sniffly.

Tony nods, then snuffles into the tissue again. “Didn’t want to distract everyone, so I turned off the comm. It wasn’t working properly anyways, so…”

Steve sighs. “You still should’ve told me… I was starting to get worried.”

“You always worry,” Tony argues lightly. “But I know. snff-snff! And I’m sorry…” Looking over the edge of the tissue, he focuses on the way the corners of Steve’s mouth twitch, slowly curling into a soft smile.

“It’s okay, honey… Bless you,” he adds, chuckling as Tony catches a stray IIh’tsh! in the tissue, both hands cupped over his nose and mouth. Tony shoots him a disapproving glare as he lets out sudden t’Chiew! that leaves him sniffling madly. “I thought the suit took care of all that,” Steve says, referring to the filtration system that should’ve kept the pollen out but funnily enough didn’t this time around.

“Y-yeah, well, it does.” Steve’s brows furrow in confusion, so Tony goes on to explain: “I had my faceplate off for a minute and I think some of the pollen got in when I went head-to-head with the oak…”

A low rumble of a laugh escapes through Steve’s lips, smile stretching wide.

“Are you laughing at my misery, Steven?” Tony feigns offense. “How could you?”

Steve catches his lower lips between his teeth, ducks his head slightly as he shakes his head fondly. When he looks back up, his eyes are sparkling with so much affection and love. Tony is having a hard enough time breathing as it is, but when Steve looks at him like that, breathing is downright impossible.

“No. No, I’m just… You take aliens and androids out like it’s child’s play, but go one round with an oak and you’re all…”

“Sniffly? Gross? Miserable? Looking like death? Yeah, well…”

Steve laughs again, the sound making something inside Tony’s chest flutter.

“I was going to say sensitive and cute,” Steve corrects, “but sniffly is pretty accurate, too. Not the rest, though.”

Tony is glad he still has the tissue pressed to his face, because he can feel his cheeks go a little warm at how Steve’s voice has gone all sweet and tender, and Steve, that bastard, likes to tease him when he blushes like this.

Of course, Steve notices anyways and takes Tony’s hands in his so he can lean in to nuzzle his nose against Tony’s, making it quiver a little at the gentle touch. He goes on to place a trail of kisses along Tony’s jaw, then his neck.

Tony closes his eyes, biting back a pleased sigh as Steve’s soft, plumb lips feel heavenly against his skin. Placing a hand on the back on Steve’s neck, he lets his fingers play with Steve’s sweaty, dirty hair and pulls him closer.

Feeling Steve’s breath tickle behind his ear sends a shiver down Tony’s spine, and this time he really can’t help the quiet whimper that slips out. He knows Steve heard it, because he snorts and begins nibbling at his earlobe, which—

“We have to stop,” Tony says hoarsely, immediately regretting being the responsible one of the two. “We need to get cleaned up before debrief.”

Steve pulls back slowly, raising an amused eyebrow. “You sure you didn’t hit your head out there too, Mr. Stark?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “I won’t be able to resist you if we don’t stop now. Plus, I can feel another sneezing fit coming on, so I should probably go shower and down some heavy-duty allergy meds,” he says with a self-deprecating smile.

Steve nods, understanding, but in an instant, his eyes light up, looking at Tony with a shy yet mischievous smile. “Requesting permission to join you in your shower, Mr. Stark?”

Tony has gotten really bad at telling Steve no over the years. Not that he would ever want to.

“Permission granted, Captain.”

#my fic #stevetony #anon #ask box #I am so sorry for being this late #but i love my babies so much #pls allergic Tony is the cutest bb #🥺🥺🥺

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danielleslegacy · 4 years

Text

Soulmates || Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST

Request: yes / no (but they are open always)

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Summary: Just a wedding fic, that no one asked for bahaha, but yes, wedding.

Word Count: 2,404

Warnings: it is just fluff that is all, its tooth-rotting, you’ve been warned.

Pairing: fem!Reader insert x Spencer Reid

All writing is my own, so please don’t steal this. Also, I would appreciate any feedback/comments/requests! xx

*GIF IS NOT MINE SO CREDIT GOES TO THE OWNER*

I smooth my hands down the front of the laced front of my dress, casting my eyes back up to the mirror in front of me. Makeup done in such a beautiful way that my eyes pop, the soft blush that lays on my cheeks making me seem younger and more innocent than I am. Behind me I notice people walking into my dressing room.

“Oh Y/n,” the voice of one Emily Prentiss says, causing me to turn to face her, “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

My eyes flash over the girls quickly, their beautiful dresses, similar but not the same, adorning their bodies. My eyes fill with tears as I let out a soft laugh. “Thank you Em.”

“That boy is going to die watching you walk down the aisle in that,” Penelope gushes, her own voice thick with unshed tears. The group lets out a laugh.

“Thank you for being here,” I say, reaching my hands out to hold the sides on JJ and Penelope, as they are standing on the outside of Emily, “I just wish my parents were here too, you know?”

The girls nod, “They are here, Y/n, they’re always with you.” JJ says, giving my arm and encouraging squeeze.

“Alright no crying missy, we’ve got a wedding to do,” Eemily says offering me a tissue, which I take and dab underneath my eyes softly. I let out a breath and turn back to the mirror, admiring my dress one last time, with a firm nod of my head, I turn to the dresser and pick up a bracelet.

“I need some help with this part,” I confess, holding out the bracelet and my wrist to the girls, JJ takes it and clasps it. A multitude of pendants hang off it, each one for a different person in my life.

“It’s beautiful, was it from boy wonder?” Penelope asks, obviously catching onto one of the charms on the bracelet, a silver book, it was tiny but it was there.

I nod my head, a smile coming to my lips, “A wedding present, you guys are on here too.” I say gesturing to the four leaf clover. “The whole team is on here,” a small set of handcuffs on the other side of the clover, a reference to our job. “Mum and Dad too,” I say, finally pointing to the two angels.

A soft knock at the door frame draws us out of our bubble, “Sorry to interrupt ladies, but it's time,” Hotch’s face is painted with guilt at having to pull us away. A wave of anxiety rushes over me, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it came, and it’s replaced by pure excitement, excitement at the fact that it’s finally time to marry my soulmate.

The girls slip out the door sending words of encouragement, and waves as they exited.

“How do I look, boss?” I ask doing a twirl for Hotch, my dress spiraling around me. I stop back to face him and he has a wide, proud, grin on his face. He gives me a nod in response.

“You ready?” He asks, extending a hand out towards me, which I take readily.

“Yes,” I put simply, it was an easy answer because yes, i am ready to marry Spencer, i am ready to start the rest of my life with the person that i cannot live without. We walk down a hallway in Rossi’s house and just before we walk out and into the garden, we stop. Rossi had offered his house as the venue once again, as it was practically assumed that after JJ’s wedding to Will that Spencer and I would inevitably marry here too. I’m not in view of the group yet, but I can see the garden, lit up in beautiful lights, and a few seats scattered around the yard. Lanterns litter the grass, like the scene from Tangled. A fairytale coming to life.

The music begins, a classical wedding march, a giggle erupting from my chest. “In a few minutes I’m going to be married, Hotch,” I say as he opens the door for us to walk out of.

“Yes, yes you are Y/n.”

We step out on the lawn and I feel everyone's eyes on me, but my eyes are only focused on the end of the aisle, only on Spencer. His beautiful all black suit makes him appear even taller than normal, and his hair is styled to perfection. His eyes shine with tears, and in that moment my refill again. I continue walking, my smile staying spread across my lips, and when I eventually meet the end of the isle, I give Hotch a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you Aaron,” I say softly. The kiss is returned and he places my hand in Spencer’s.

“You have something truly magical,” He says, taking a step back to join the rest of our team. No, our family. For the first time I looked over all of their faces, all red and tear filled.

From beside me Rossi clears his throat, “Welcome, Welcome everybody, we are all here today to celebrate the union of two beautiful people.”

My eyes gather with tears and I flick them up to Spencer’s, his own filled too. I squeeze his hands, my excitement evident on my face.

“We have all watched these two souls find one another against all odds. I’m sure Spencer could tell you the odds of their meeting, and I asked him once, and he told me that day that it’s a 1 in 10,000 chance that he would meet his soulmate. To which I followed up by asking him, and she’s the one right, kid? The boy just nodded his head. Later that same week I asked Y/n if she believed in soulmates,” He lets out a little chuckle, “See what I did there? She didn’t really answer me, but she did look over at the doctor and smiled. I knew what she meant by that. I am by no means an expert on marriage or soulmates.”

“Ain't that a fact,” Derek mutters from the small group, referencing the italian’s multiple divorces and we erupt into a fit of laughter. My shoulders shake with laughter and tears fall down my cheeks. Spencer’s eyes focus only on me, his own shining with tears, and I can tell that he knows that this is a memory that he will be looking over for years to come. His fingers dance along my wrists and connect with the bracelet.

“What are you gonna do?” Rossi continues with a shrug once the group is quiet,”But as I was saying. I am no expert, but you don’t need to be to know that these two souls were made for one another. They share this deep and beautiful understanding of one another, their differences and similarities. The two truly complete one another. I am so lucky to have been able to watch your love blossom from an awkward mutual pining to what I see before me today. I am also honored to be able to marry you to one another. So without further ado, let’s get to the important part. You have both prepared vows, Y/n, you first.”

I nod my head excitedly, my smile widening as if that was even possible, “So like Rossi, I also asked you the odds of us meeting, and I got the same answer. Only, I asked you after our first date, we had probably known each other for six months at that point, eating ice cream in my apartment while watching Hercules. And it was that day that I fell for you. You couldn’t just sit and watch the movie, you kept telling me facts about ancient greece and greeks gods and goddesses, and I knew that I only wanted to experience movies with you being able to tell me about them.” His eyes twinkle and a tear slips down his cheek, I raise my hand up to wipe it away, “That night I called my mum, and i told her that I had met the man I was going to marry,” My voice catches in my throat, “I told her all about you and how you made me feel and she told my dad, and they both instantly loved you, because i was happy and excited.”

His finger toys with the bracelet on my wrist, tears streaking his face. “And Spence, if they had met you, I know that they would be all about me marrying you. So my vow to you is to always love and savour every moment we have together, and to never go to sleep angry, and to listen to you always. I also promise to take care of you and to love you forever.”

Spencer unlinks a hand from mine holding up his pinky to which I link mine around it, letting out a watery laugh.

Tears fall from my eyes, when Spencer begins his own vows.

“I am a man of science and logic and numbers and facts.” He begins, “When you start falling in love, your brain releases chemicals like vasopressin, adrenaline, dopamine, and oxytocin that light up your neural receptors and make you feel both pleasure and a euphoric sense of purpose. That’s the facts of what love is. And before you, that was an easy enough understanding. I had thought I knew what love felt like. But falling in love with you was unlike anything I have ever experienced before in my entire life. And it took me so incredibly long to figure out why. It’s because all logic went out the window. My first and last thought every day was of you, I worried about you constantly and I could not figure out why. But then I noticed that I just wanted to be around you all the time and I didn't want you away from me. And then I got it. Love, this was falling in love. All those other times in my life where i thought i was experiencing love were test drives in comparison to falling in love with you. So today I vow to you, to continually throw logic away and to love you with all of my being for as long as life permits it. And if the Buddists are right, then the meeting was actually 500 years in the making, and I promise to you that in 500 years I will find you again.”

“Oh Spence,” I whisper to no one by him, reaching up to try to wipe the tears off my cheeks.

“This ceremony will not create a relationship that does not already exist between you. It is a symbol of how far you have come in these past few years. It is a symbol of the promises you will make to each other and continue growing stronger as individuals and as partners. No matter what challenges you face, no matter how much you succeed, you now succeed together. The love between you joins you now as one. Now for the exchanging of rings,” Rossi states, handing us each other's rings.

"Y/n, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. As it encircles your finger, may it remind you always that you are surrounded by my enduring love," Spencer says softly, slipping it onto my fourth finger.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love, my faith in our strength together, and my covenant to learn and grow with you,” I reply, sliding the plain gold band onto his fourth finger.

Rossi clears his throat, “You two are officially the first members to marry within the BAU, you may now kiss.”

My smile only widens, as my hands reach up to cup his face softly, and my lips press to his. I feel the corners of his mouth lift in a smile. From behind my closed eyelids I see a flash, but I take no notice lost in the kiss with my now husband. Our lips move against one another, he dips us down slowly yet romantically,, and once we pull apart I miss it, so I quickly press my lips to his and then move back. My smile permanently on my face. The others are clapping and hollering from around us. It is then that I finally notice the camera grasped in Penelope's hand and I’m already so grateful for the pictures that she must have been taking.

My eyes flick back to Spence, “We’re married.”

“Yes we are,” He grins, wrapping his arms around my waist and spinning me around. The group lets out a chorus of laughs and Rossi’s voice breaks through. “Now we eat.”

We share a beautiful meal, some pasta that I assume Dave made and the conversation flows freely.

“Remember when you called me on your way to your first date with Y/n?” Morgan teases, “You were so nervous that I actually debated calling an ambulance to make sure you didn’t have a heart attack.”

The group laughs once more and Spencer buries his head into the crook of my neck, clearly embarrassed, “Yeah, well I had reason to be.”

“Oh wait, that reminds me,” JJ begins, “Y/n called me the day Spence finally asked her out, and you guys, I wish you had been able to hear the excitement in her voice. I know I’m a profiler, but you didn’t need to be to see that the girl was already crazy for him.”

I let out a soft giggle, reminiscing on that day, and I bring up mine and Spencer's conjoined hands and press my lips to his.

The soft sounds of Jason Mraz’s ‘I Won’t Give Up’ begins to chime through the air, I stand up, and pull Spencer along with me.

“Dance with me?” I ask him, and he just nods in reply, pulling me in closer to him. One of his hands rests on my hip and the other encloses mine. I rest my head onto his chest, I can hear the stop patter of his heart beat, as we sway together. He unloops our fingers, and my arms wrap around his waist and his other hand falls in my hair, holding me as close as possible. I feel so protected by the man who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.

TagList (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

@saucybeeches

#spence #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Reid #Criminal Minds AU #david rossi #aaron hotch hotchner #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau #derek morgan x spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #Spencer ried x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 4 years

Text

Get Up

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

WC: 2,225

Summary: Y/N says she’s fine, but she rarely leaves the comfort of her bed. The boys finally confront her about “giving up” and learning to fight again.

Warnings: some angst and fluff. Mentions of grief, depression, feeling like giving up, etc. (but it’s a comfort fic!) I heart soft Sam. Dean is a little intense. Technically no pairing.

A/N: I’ve been writing SO MUCH, but I just can’t seem to finish anything. I’ve also been struggling lately, so this was an attempt for me to get some of that out. This was quick and focused on finally finishing something rather than being perfect (I think this is the first time I’ve written something in a day), so all mistakes are mine. I had “Get Up” by Shinedown stuck in the back of my mind, so that played a part as well. Although I typically write from a Dean x reader perspective, I don’t think I really established a pairing so...hope this might encourage you too, whether you’re a Dean!girl or a Sam!girl.

(fic included on Dean Masterlist and Sam Masterlist)

Hearing a soft knock at your door, you exhaled sharply and prayed the culprit would go away. There was really no reason for you to feel so annoyed and irritated. You knew you’d been isolating yourself lately and the boys had to be a little concerned with how distant you were being. But that still didn’t change the fact that you didn’t feel like talking or being around anyone.

When you heard the doorknob start to turn, you tensed instinctively and hoped again that whoever it was would leave you alone.

“Y/N?” To your dismay, there was another quick knock before Sam peeked his head in. “Hey. Me and Dean were thinking about putting on a movie or something. You wanna come join us for a while and we’ll see what we can come up with?”

“No thanks. I’m alright.”

Like most days, you were curled up in a cocoon made up of several layers of blankets and you had no intention of leaving. After hesitating briefly, Sam crossed your room in a few simple strides and took a seat on the edge of your bed. You gritted your teeth to keep your composure and braced yourself for whatever “talk” he was about to give you. You knew that he meant well, but all you wanted was to be left alone.

“Hey. Are you sure you’re alright? We haven’t seen much of you the last couple of days.”

“I’m fine, Sam. Just tired, that’s all.”

“Y/N…” he frowned with concern. “You know you can talk to me and Dean about anything, right? We’ll always have your back, no matter what. And whatever’s really going on, we can help you figure it out...no matter how bad it might seem.”

“I know. Really, I’m okay. Just feeling a little under the weather, I guess. Nothing I can’t handle.”

You gave him a small smile, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

“You sure you don’t want to come out of your room for a little bit? We can make some popcorn or...some soup, if that sounds better? We can even grab all these blankets and pillows and get you situated in--” he groaned and rolled his eyes “--in the Fortress of Dean-a-tude.”

You couldn’t help but grin at his reaction and you almost considered the offer. Dean had put a lot of work into the cozy space, so he had every right to call it whatever he wanted. It didn’t change how absurd Sam thought the name was, but you loved that he respected his brother enough to embrace it anyway.

“I’m still gonna pass, but thank you for checking,” you answered quietly.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Just...you know, let us know if you need anything. Anything at all-- we just want to help. We care about you and you mean a lot to us, Y/N...I hope you always believe that. I’ll check back in later, okay?”

When you simply nodded, he patted your leg and stood up. You watched as he reluctantly exited your room and shut the door behind him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be around the boys anymore and it wasn’t that you were necessarily trying to hide anything from them. You really were tired, but it was a different kind of tired than you were used to. There’d been a few moments when you felt sad or angry, but mostly you just shoved the feelings aside and distracted yourself instead. In the past, you’d managed to work through things by hunting or drinking with the boys or even by listening to some carefully chosen music. But this time was different.

Those flashes of irritation or amusement, of depression or even joy were now few and far between. It was like you were constantly spacing out and you simply felt...nothing. Like you’d been avoiding your feelings for so long that you’d somehow managed to cut yourself off from them and now you weren’t sure how to get them back. Honestly, you weren’t sure you even wanted to.

It was impossible to make decisions, let alone actually accomplish anything. No matter how much or how little sleep you managed to get, you barely had the energy to get out of bed. Even choosing what to eat had become an overwhelming task, so you tried to avoid that when you could. And, when you couldn’t, you tried to sneak to the kitchen at obscure hours to avoid bumping into the boys. Of course you trusted them and knew you could go to them for anything...but the idea of actually having to talk to them about any of the things you were trying to sort through made you feel tense and anxious. So you did what you could to avoid it all-- even going so far as to pass on the last hunt they went on.

You squeezed your eyes closed and tried to gain control of your thoughts before they got away from you. You knew you should be doing more. That something needed to change and you couldn’t keep living this passive life. But you didn’t even know where to begin and you certainly didn’t want to think about it anymore. At least not today.

Suddenly your door crashed open. You sat up, startled, and craned your neck to see Dean come barreling into your room.

“Alright, this has gone on long enough,” he barked. “Hop up, you’re getting out of this damn bed.”

“Please, just leave me alone.”

You laid back down and pulled the covers over your head as you rolled to your side-- but he wasn’t giving up that easily. He tore the covers off of you and tossed them toward the end of the bed, just far enough to be out of your reach.

“Dean, stop!” Sam appeared in the doorway and took a few steps toward his brother. “Just give her a little more time.”

“No, this is getting ridiculous,” he snapped. “Y/N, you’ve gotta get up and do something-- anything! C’mon.”

“I can’t... Please, guys, just go away.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you get up. Look-- let’s just go for a walk around the bunker or get you in the shower. Hell, we can even go for a drive and get you some real food or find a case or something. You can’t just keep lying in bed all day every day.”

Shaking your head, you simply hugged your knees to your chest and tried to curl into a ball. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes and you blinked rapidly to chase them away. You felt exposed without the comfort of your blankets-- the unexpected commotion triggering a “fight or flight” reaction that was beginning to stir up some of the emotions you’d been stuffing away.

You wanted to escape, but there was no place to hide from the boys’ frustrated bickering. Your chest began to heave as tears finally slipped from the edges of your eyes; rolling across the bridge of your nose and down your cheek before seeping into the mattress.

“Dean, quit it! Yelling at her isn’t going to help anything!”

“Yeah? Well your gentle ‘let’s just give her some time’ approach isn’t exactly working either!”

“Would you just come on and--”

“No, Sam! I’m not just gonna stand by and let her give up!”

Silence fell over the space as everyone seemed to finally acknowledge the elephant in the room.

“I’m not,” you squeaked. “I’m just…”

You trailed off, unable to come up with a helpful answer. You didn’t dare look at either of them, so you stared across the room and fixed your attention on a small crack in the wall. When Dean spoke again, there was still a hint of intensity, but his tone had softened considerably.

“Y/N, don’t you get it? Maybe you’re not out there running around with a death wish, but you’re just...giving up. You lay around in bed all day, watching tv or sleeping or whatever else, and you barely eat--you’re just letting yourself waste away! It’s like you just stopped trying.”

“We just want to know what’s going on,” Sam added gently. “Maybe it would help you to talk to us a little bit. Did something happen?”

“I don’t know, okay? I’m just...taking a break ‘til I can get back on my feet.”

Dean sat down at the foot of your bed and reached behind you to slip a hand between your arm and the mattress. With his hands on your shoulders, he pulled you up into a sitting position. You settled into his side and nestled your head under his chin to avoid looking at him.

“What’re you taking a break from?” he asked, rubbing his hand up and down your arm.

“I’m not sure...just life, I guess.”

Sam dragged the chair from your desk over so he could take a seat in front of you while they waited for you to continue.

“I guess the losses are just hitting me hard lately. I can’t get myself to deal with them. Everything we’ve had to give up and the people we’ve lost… You know, sometimes it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that we’re never going to see them again. And I’m tired. I just don’t know how to pull myself out of this. I’ve never...I’ve never been through anything like this before. I don’t even really feel depressed, you know? When I’m down, at least I know what it is and I know how to fight it. But this-- it’s like I’ve been avoiding it all for so long that I don’t even know what I feel anymore. I’m stuck in this surreal haze, like this isn’t even my life anymore. And I don’t know how to ask you and Sam for help because I-- I don’t even know what I need. I don’t know...maybe I kind of have stopped trying. I mean, how am I supposed to fight it when I don’t even really understand what’s going on?”

There was a long pause before either of them spoke. You had to admit you did feel a little lighter from simply coming clean about some of the things weighing on you, instead of keeping everything bottled up inside. But you couldn’t seem to find the words to explain it any better to them. You weren’t sure how to help them understand.

“We’ll help you figure it out. Together.” You glanced up to see Sam give you a reassuring smile. “Dean and I-- we’ve both been there more times than either of us can probably count. I mean, we can’t exactly know what you’re going through or how you feel...but we can relate, you know? There’s been countless times that’ve made us want to give up, but we always find a way to bring each other back.”

“That’s what families do,” Dean added firmly. “We don’t give up on each other-- ever.”

He leaned away from you and turned his shoulders so he could look at you earnestly.

“What if I can’t come back from this?” you whispered.

“Y/N...I know it hurts like hell to think about all the people we’ve lost. And sometimes it doesn’t make sense why we’re still here and they’re not. But, the fact is, you are still here. All of us are. And we owe it to them to keep fighting. And if that’s not enough...we’re all we’ve got. Sammy and I...we can’t lose you too. We can’t.”

Dean cleared his throat after his voice cracked on those last few words and you realized he hadn’t really been angry at you when he’d stormed in. Rather, he’d been struggling for too long with his own grief and fears. When you peeked at Sam, you could see the same worries and discomfort on his face. They had both experienced their own losses, but they’d had the added stress of having to worry about you too. Yet they’d still somehow managed to find a way to pick themselves up and keep moving forward.

“I know. You guys are right and I’m so sorry. I know I’ve got to find a way to change things, I just...I don’t even know where to begin.”

“We’ll start small and go from there.” When Dean stood and held out his hand, Sam followed his lead. “All you have to do is get up.”

“Then what?”

“Maybe we’ll take Baby for a spin-- just the three of us. Let me and Sammy worry about the ‘how.’ You just focus on the next step.”

“We’ll be with you every step of the way,” Sam nodded.

You took a deep breath and, for the first time in a long time, it seemed like you could already breath a little easier. Placing your hands in each of theirs, you let the boys pull you from the comfort of the safe place you’d been clinging to for so long. You still didn’t know how you were going to get through this and start fighting again, but that was okay. With Dean leading the way and Sam’s arm wrapped around you, you felt a small glimmer of faith. The first small step toward believing you would find a way to get back up again.

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fizzyxcustard · 4 years

Text

The Right Thing

Masterlist of all fanfics/headcanons/prompts here

Fandom: seaQuest 2032

Pairings: Lucas Wolenczak x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, insecurity, age difference (but legal), language (mild)

Word count: 6505 (a longer one)

Summary: You are a Lieutenant aboard the seaQuest DSV vessel, under Captain Oliver Hudson. You have been aboard for two years and in that time have grown very close to Lucas Wolenczak. But not only are you of higher rank, you are ten years his senior (he’s 20). As your feelings deepen and Lucas opens up to you about how he feels, your anxiety rises. Will everyone be judgemental of you for loving a younger man? Others aboard the boat, and shore leave, help you to see how right you and Lucas are for each other.

Comments: If you have any questions regarding this fic and the fandom, by all means message me. I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback. I will probably try and make graphics for my fics in future if people are interested in reading more of this as I have a full length fic in the works and a prequel one-shot as well. If you would like to be added to my tag list for anything seaQuest related, please leave me a message or comment. The above image shows Captain Oliver Hudson (left) and Ensign Lucas Wolenczak (right) from the show.

Never before had you felt this awkward, torn and utterly disgusted with yourself. Whenever you sat beside Lucas on the bridge, you could feel his stare now and again as he turned his mesmerising blue eyes from the helm monitor. True, you had always had a very deep friendship with Lucas, who was now an Ensign and seemed to be on duty with you more than any other officer, but the tension was becoming too much. He was two months past twenty and you were the wrong side of thirty. However, most people assumed you to be younger than Lonnie, at twenty-one, but no, the years were against you. In fact, you were the same age as Tim O’Neill.

That day was rather uneventful. Your shift passed by without incident. You laughed with Lucas, Jim Brody and Lonnie in the mess hall. But again, you could sense Lucas’ eyes on you.

Captain Hudson was at a UEO summit meeting, leaving Commander Ford in charge. It was always more laid back and chilled when Jonathan Ford took the helm. No complaints, no shouting, no frustration. Ford had been on seaQuest now since her first tour, along with Lucas and Tim. The rest of the crew, including you, came later. All of you missed Captain Bridger, who had been more than just a Captain, but a friend and a fatherly figure.

“Have you got any plans for shore leave?” Lucas asked you suddenly.

You swallowed hard and turned to face him, pulling your headset from off your head. “Not at the moment, no,” you replied. “You?”

This was all your conversations had become now. Idle chit chat. Whereas when Captain Bridger was still your skipper, you and Lucas would spend time together, laughing at stupid movies, listening to music, taunting Tony Piccolo and simply basking in the things of youth.

Lucas knew there was something very wrong between you both; he could sense it. He didn’t have to be like Wendy Smith, psychic; he could see the cold shoulder that you gave him often. He watched you concentrate on your monitor, staring through the glasses that you always wore when on any computer or when writing. The atmosphere had changed aboard the boat when Captain Bridger left, but surely that wasn’t enough to make you grow cold.

When it was time for shift change, you walked off the bridge with Lucas. Both of you strolled slowly, side by side. “Hey, ummm,” Lucas began, stopping in the corridor. “Can we talk?”

“What about?” you asked.

Lucas sighed at the cold, abrupt edge to your tone. “Us….”

“What do you mean us?”

“No…no. It sounded weird, I know. I’m sorry,” Lucas said, silently grilling himself for sounding stupid. “Things just seem weird. We don’t spend time together like we used to, and I guess I…”

“We’ll talk later. In private,” you told him. Officers were speeding past you, starting and ending the shift rotation. It was too open for such a chat. There was a lot that needed to be said. “I’ll come to your quarters about seven. How’s that?”

“Perfect,” Lucas replied with a smile.

As you parted ways, you felt breath catch in your throat. Your hands shook and tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. You felt something for Lucas and you despised yourself, at just over ten years his senior. You were ashamed of it.

It wasn’t until you ventured from your quarters and down the corridors to Lucas’ shared quarters that you realised just how deep his feelings for you ran. You could distinctly hear his voice as you stopped outside the door, which was slightly ajar. The other person, you assumed, was Tony Piccolo.

“You need to tell her, Lucas,” the second voice came. Sure enough, it was Tony.

You waited outside the door, listening.

“I can’t stop thinking about her, Tony.”

“You’ve said that before with girls.”

“This is different. I barely knew Juliana and Sandra. I’ve spent months with her, and when I am with her, it’s like she’s my age. And she cares. I mean truly cares. Probably because she’s just as alone as I am. But lately she’s grown cold towards me. She won’t speak to me sometimes for almost an entire day. There’s no laughing anymore.”

“It’s pretty hard to laugh around here with Hudson in charge,” Tony replied.

You straightened your back and swallowed hard, bracing yourself and tapped on the door.

A few seconds later and Tony appeared. “I’ll leave you two to it. Don’t mind me,” he said, grinning at you. “Go easy on him.” Tony winked at you. All you could do was grimace and then descend the steps down into the main sleeping area which Lucas and Tony shared.

Lucas looked at you, dressed in jeans, Converse and blouse. How could you be the age you were? You looked twenty-two at most. Everything about you enthralled him; your small and discreet tattoos scattered about your body, your quirky sense of humour, the way you cared for everyone and put them before yourself, the odd looking ornaments you kept on your desk and your taste in rock music. Jim Brody had teased many times how your attitude would be suited with Tony Piccolo. But you needed people who were steady and mature.

Things were silent for a short while as you both stood a couple of feet apart, your hands shoved in pockets. Then you broke the silence and looked at Lucas. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. It’s just…Maybe I’m being arrogant, I don’t know. But I sense that you like me…”

“And does that bother you?” Lucas asked, his hands growing more and more sweaty.

“I’m a lot older than you, Lucas,” you reminded him. “You’ve only just become an adult, and I know you forget my age when we spend time together. I’m still young in my appearance and ways. Maybe I haven’t grown up myself yet.”

“I think you’re amazing,” Lucas said softly. “Why does age have to be an issue? We’re good together; I know that you know that.”

His words made something pour in your stomach and you closed your eyes, trying to shake the feelings away. “Lucas, no. Stop it, please,” you whispered.

“You have feelings for me, too. I know you do. I can see it,” he said, approaching you.

You felt his arm wind around your waist, edging you closer towards him.

“Stop it!” you cried out, pushing him away. “No means no!”

You left his quarters only moments later, leaving Lucas behind to slam his hands down onto his desk. Leaving seaQuest was the only way this would end. Lucas would move on and meet a girl his own age. And you would transfer to another boat, hopefully to ace your officer exams and get promoted to Lieutenant Commander.

That evening was long as you drowned in your own thoughts. How could Lucas be what you needed? Would he be prepared to look towards marriage and children within the next two to five years? You would be rushing him, forcing him to put aside all the years of adventure and experience to build a family. Because that was what you wanted. If you met the right man, then you would gladly take time away from your career. And Lucas seemed to think that man was him.

Around nine, a knock came to your door. Your heart leapt and you gasped, expecting it to be Lucas. But it was Tony. You knew why he was here; it didn’t take a lot for anyone to put two and two together to see the reason for his visit.

You let Tony in and sat back down in your seat. “I know why you’ve come to see me, Tony. Lucas doesn’t see the shame I feel every time I look at him.”

“I wanted to see how you’re doing, too. I know Lucas isn’t always the easiest person to say no to. In that way, he’s still a kid.”

You sighed. “We’re both still kids in a lot of ways. I’m going to put in a request for transfer. It’s the only way to solve this.”

“But you can’t,” Tony exclaimed. “Everyone loves you, you know that. It wouldn’t be the same without you. You bring a bit of life to this place.”

Tony’s words brought a smile to your face. “Thanks. This place feels more like a family than I’ve ever had anywhere else outside of my actual family.”

“Look, if you two really do like each other then nothing should stop you. Some people might think the age gap is weird, but who cares? You’re both single adults.”

You sighed again and reached for your mug of coffee which had started growing cold. “I want to think about marriage and settling down. Does Lucas want that? It’s something that needs to be thought about. I can’t be responsible for slowing him down. He’s still young.”

“And so are you. Man, you’re talkin’ as though you’re fifty. Come on!” Tony said.

You barely slept that night, constantly tossing and turning, thinking of Lucas, whom you doubted was asleep either. The air was warm and stale, and your heart raced, reminding you of the anxiety which you kept hidden. Being a Lieutenant in the Navy meant that you had been aboard vessels under attack, had nearly drowned and been shot in the leg. But it was your indecision and shame that caused you to panic uncontrollably.

Tears poured down your cheeks as you flung your legs out from the covers. You flicked on the table lamp and staggered sleepily to your chair. Writing always calmed you. In a world of discipline, uncertainty and instability, you felt so alone. Friendships were strong between you and the main crew, but you had become the glue holding them together. You listened often to Lonnie deny her budding feelings for Jonathan Ford; Tony Piccolo opened his heart to you about his unconventional family; Lucas relied on you for stability and companionship. Now was the time that you needed someone.

After finishing your journal entry, you ventured out into the corridors, finding the gentle hum of seaQuest to be soothing. In the mess hall, you poured yourself a mug of coffee from the vending machine and took a seat in the back corner of the room.

“I thought I was the only one who had insomnia,” a voice came.

“What? Oh, sorry,” you apologised, raising your head out of your hands to see Jim Brody.

“You okay?” Brody asked, approaching you. He was dressed in his uniform, obviously in the middle of night shift.

“I’ll survive,” you chuckled wryly.

“You don’t sound very convincing, you know?”

There was a sincerity in Brody’s eyes that you had always been drawn to. He never minced his words or failed in keeping his promises.

You sighed deeply and looked at your untouched coffee. “How do you handle it when you like someone but have your reservations?”

“What kind of reservations?”

“If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell another soul? I’m so ashamed.”

Brody began to look puzzled and slightly nervous. “Umm, okay.”

“Lucas admitted that he has feelings for me, and I know I feel something for him. But the age gap terrifies me, Jim. And you know how sulky he can be when you say no to him.”

Brody smiled and then sighed. “I know you two have always been close, but maybe if you’re feeling uncomfortable, it’s something you need to deal with yourself. You’re both adults and it’s down to you both. Don’t try and seek everyone else’s approval.”

“That’s what makes me ashamed: everyone else’s judgement.”

The shame and embarrassment of your admission made you look away and run your shaking hands through your short hair. It made you think back to the day you had your long locks cut off, which was the day before your first tour on seaQuest. It was an almost boyish cut, but there was no mistaking your femininity.”

“It’ll work out, I’m sure. Thanks for listening, Jim,” you said, forcing a smile.

You remained in the mess hall for a short while longer, sipping your coffee. The tall, broad figure of Dagwood drifted past the door as he cleaned. He never noticed you, but you watched him for a couple of seconds; his attention to his duty was unbroken and unwavering.

Sleep finally took you away a couple of hours later. In the dark of your quarters, you began counting. Gradually your heart rate slowed.

Suddenly your alarm was blaring! Pain rested behind your eyes and in your temples. No doubt it would remain with you for the rest of the day.

After a shower, you got dressed into your uniform and headed for the mess hall for breakfast. The bright overhead lights assaulted your eyes, making you wince.

Lucas, Tony and Lonnie were all sat together to the left hand side of the room. You suddenly felt sick, insanely sick. Tony looked at you, his eyes widening. Thankfully Lucas had his back to you. It was impossible for you to avoid him now; once you were up for duty, you couldn’t go back to quarters until the next shift rotation. On an almost mile-long submarine, and you couldn’t hide.

You grabbed fruit and a mug of herbal tea. With a huge sigh, you approached the table where your friends were, a spare seat having been left between Tony and Lucas.

Lucas swallowed hard and shifted in his seat as your perfume wafted up his nose, mixed with the smell of your sweet-scented hand cream.

“Morning,” you said softly. Your eyes met Lucas’ and you could see the sadness swimming in them.

“You look awful,” Lonnie said. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t sleep much last night,” you said, forcing another smile. “And it’s caught up with me this morning.”

By now and you could feel your pulse racing, thumping in your head and chest. Your hands were shaking, and you knew the day wouldn’t get any easier. Tony kept watching you as the atmosphere remained tense. Lonnie left a few minutes later, uncomfortable by the silence.

Lucas was looking down most of the time and once Tony had also left, he spoke, but didn’t look at you. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” you admitted, swallowing hard.

Lucas heard the quiver in your voice and finally looked at you. “I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Almost on instinct, you placed your hand on his. “We’ll be okay. Whatever happens, we’ll be okay. Shore leave in two days. We can talk more then.”

That morning seemed to ease some of the tension between Lucas and you. On the bridge, you began to ease back into your laughter. You temporarily forgot your fatigue and the events of the evening previous. Until Lucas held your gaze for a few seconds longer than usual. Normally you looked away, trying to avert his attention elsewhere, but this time you maintained eye contact and smiled.

Tony smirked to himself, recognising that look anywhere.

The next two days passed without incident. You felt more at ease now and found yourself making jokes out of mundane things. As it always had, it entertained Tony greatly. The two of you played off each other in the mess hall. A lot of your jokes were at Captain Hudson’s expense. To most people, you outwardly seemed more suited to Tony Piccolo, but those closest to you knew better. The bond you shared with Lucas was unlike any other relationship on the boat. Even though you paled into insignificance when it came to Lucas’ IQ, you could both normally tell what the other was thinking with just one smile.

On the evening before shore leave officially started, Lucas remained in his quarters after shift rotation. There was still a deep pain when he saw you. When you turned your head and smiled, your eyes shining bright, he knew that he would love no other smile. Your attention to detail was unparalleled; that was obvious from the drawings of yours which littered your bedside wall. Your mind didn’t store facts, theories and calculations like Lucas’; it was curious, deep, questioning. You observed deeply. Your genius was in colours, shape, emotion, behaviour. Not cold fact like Lucas.

The Navy had taught you to be disciplined, orderly. No more piles of clothes left at the end of your bed or un-pressed clothing that hoped no one would notice. Why had you even enlisted? Was it your wanderlust? Perhaps. Or maybe it was a way to get away from the ordinary world and embrace your difference.

A sudden knock came to your door, a metallic tap.

“Come in,” you called, placing your copy of The Lord of the Ringsback on your shelf.

Lucas entered, not quite sure why he was even visiting.

“Sorry. I was tidying. You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied.

“You think so?”

Lucas sat down on the edge of your bed and looked up at you as you placed your hands on your hips.

“Please don’t do that. You remind me of my mom,” he chuckled.

Somehow, that comment didn’t amuse you quite as much as it did Lucas. It hit a rather raw nerve that you had hoped you had figured out how to manage.

Lucas got up from his spot and stood before you, being slightly taller. “What?” he asked. You turned your head, shame surging through you again. But just then, the gentlest touch came to your cheek. Lucas’ large blue eyes were full of concern and adoration for you. His hand cupped your face and seconds later, you felt his lips against yours. Soft, unsure, but above all, kind. The kiss of a young man, some ten years your junior, was enough to remind you that there was still kindness in the world, especially amongst the male of the species.

Realisation hit you hard in the stomach and you turned from the kiss. You heard Lucas sigh and stepped back. “Have you thought about this properly? We’re at different stages in our lives. You’re just starting out in your adult years to find out what you’d like…”

Lucas cut you off. “You talk as though I have no idea what I want.”

You looked at him sadly, seeing the frustration in his face. “What experience have you had? Do you know if you want to get married? Have children? These are probably things you haven’t even considered yet. I’ve been forced to push it aside because I’m too different.”

Lucas remained quiet, not quite sure what to say.

“Please think on this more,” you said.

“I have,” he said in desperation, his hands cupping your face again. “I want to be with you, and whatever you want, you can have it.” His voice became a whisper and you kissed again.

You woke a few hours later at just after one in the morning. There was a solid warmth against your back and an arm draped over you. The two of you had fallen asleep after an evening of chatter and cuddles under the blanket.

In all the time that you had known Lucas, which was two years, you had never seen him smile so much as he had done that evening. True, since enlisting in the Navy, Lucas had had to grow up somewhat and that change in him had been amazing, going from a boy to a man. A seriousness had settled in him, overriding the boyishness.

You slid out of bed and positioned the blanket back over Lucas. He rolled over and mumbled in his sleep. Something about this still felt wrong. It made you concerned that everyone would see it as predatory. Everything that felt wrong was pushing you to begin writing up that transfer request. Crew from the infamous seaQuest were always welcomed aboard other UEO vessels. The sub still remained the pinnacle of the fleet, highly sought after by new officers for their first tour. A reserve list with thousands of names on had been written up, and if you left, then you’d open a door to someone more deserving of their placement. Allowing Lucas to get close to you had been an abuse of your authority.

“You’re making a habit of this, ain’t you?” Brody laughed, finding you in the mess hall again at an ungodly hour for the second time that week.

“Maybe I am,” you chuckled. “My sleep routine is shot to shit.”

“Did you get things sorted with Lucas?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned. “It still feels wrong. I’m seriously considering putting in a transfer. But I know that Hudson will only take a valid reason before signing off my request.”

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Brody leaned closer to you across the table.

“I can’t stay, Jim. Things are getting too deep between me and Lucas, and I know that he’s always going to expect something that I can’t give him.”

“I can’t force you to go against what you think is right, but you know we’d all miss you. None of us would want to see you go.”

“I know that, and I thank you so much. You’ve all supported me and I absolutely love working on this boat.”

“Yeah, it is a great place.”

Suddenly, you stopped rigid, eyes wide as Lucas wondered into the room. Brody turned after seeing your expression, and then wished you both a goodnight.

“You okay?” Lucas asked, replacing Brody in the seat opposite you.

“Got a lot on my mind,” you told him.

Lucas reached out and curled his hand around yours. “What’s up? Talk to me.”

Tears filled your eyes and fell down your cheeks. “I can’t do this…I’m sorry…”

“What have I done?” he whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” you sobbed. Your gripped his hand tighter until he came and sat at your side. “You need someone your own age. I’m taking advantage of you with my authority and rank.”

“How are you taking advantage of me?”

“I’m ten years older than you and I’m a Lieutenant.”

“And why should that matter?”

“I…” words were lost.

“We’re both legal age and consenting adults. So does it really matter?” You remained quiet. Then you heard the gentle whisper of your name. “Does it really matter?” he asked again.

“I was considering putting in a transfer,” you said, the words tumbling from your mouth like an avalanche.

“No….no,” Lucas begged, drawing his hand up your face. “Don’t leave me.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his hand and lean into his touch.

“Captain Bridger left. I don’t know if I could handle you leaving, too.” Lucas’ eyes were wide and full to the brim of tears. Everyone in Lucas’ life had left him or cared little, never putting him as their priority.

And you knew then that no matter the outcome of your relationship status, you couldn’t leave. Lucas needed an open ear, heart and mind to express himself to. He’d found that in you.

As everyone prepared their belongings in order to enjoy three days of shore leave, you sat in your quarters with music playing away on your com-link. There was a positive buzz outside your door and foot traffic was loud. It was always the same whenever shore leave was approaching.

A knock came to your door.

Tony appeared. “Mornin’!” he chirped happily. “All ready to go?”

“Yes, I think so,” you replied.

“Lucas told me about your conversation over the transfer. I’m glad you told him you’d thought about it. Are you still considering it?”

You sighed and looked towards Tony. “No, I’ve decided not to leave. Whatever happens, I know my place is here. Lucas has had enough people walk out on him. He needs at least one person to stay.”

“Make sure you’re stayin’ for the right reasons.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay,” you replied with a smile.

“I do. We all do. But you’ve got to want to stay for yourself.”

“Everyone here feels like the friends I never had and the family I lost touch with. Of course I don’t want to leave.”

As everyone began gathering in the corridors to head to the docking bays, you stood between Lucas and Brody, dressed in your shore uniform. As usual, Tony was telling jokes to keep everyone amused.

“Do you ever pause for breath?” you asked, laughing.

“Only when I’m sleepin’, and even then I still talk,” Tony countered.

“He’s right there,” Lucas mumbled.

Shore leave began with all of you checking into a local hotel in downtown just from the seaQuest berth. As usual, the UEO paid for all expenses incurred on shore leave.

Lucas looked on a little suspiciously when you announced that you were next door to Brody and Lonnie, but he was on the floor below. He merely smiled at you, swept a glance to Brody and Lonnie, then disappeared to his own room.

In your room, you placed your bag down on the bed and began inspecting the cleanliness of the place.

You made sure you had a bath before doing anything else. The heat relaxed you and the sweet scent of lavender and jasmine wrapped around you. For a short while and you forgot all the trials in life, all the things that kept you up at night and made you over think. Suddenly, your phone began to chime. With a groan of irritation, you lifted yourself out of the tub, wound a thick towel around yourself and picked up the ringing nuisance from your bed.

“Are you alright? You took a while to answer,” Lucas’ questioning voice came.

“I’m fine. I was taking a bath.”

“Oh, okay. Do you mind if I come and see you?”

“Give me ten minutes to get dressed. I’m in room 712.”

“Okay. Bye.”

He seemed put out somehow. You sensed disappointment in his voice. Did he think you were avoiding him purely because you took time to answer his call? There was definitely a lot that needed to be ironed out between you both.

Lucas came to your room shortly afterwards, holding two paper cups of coffee, probably from the vending machine on his floor.

You thanked him for the coffee and then sat opposite him on your bed. You pulled your leg under yourself and watched him lower his head in that way he always did when he was unsure. “If this is how things are going to be between us now, then I wish they would just go back to how they were,” he said. His voice as pained by the realisation of all the tension he’d placed on your once deep friendship. For a young man who was so intelligent, far beyond that of most people, he held a lot of insecurity and uncertainty. He wore his heart on his sleeve and had never been able to hide his true emotions. There was an honesty and innocence that drew you in. A purity of heart. But also a sadness. If everyone else had abandoned him, how could you be so selfish and do the same thing?

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

Lucas was staring blankly into his coffee. “This. All of it.” He then looked up at you. “The last few days have been hell. I haven’t known what to say or do. And even if you don’t feel anything for me, can we just go back to the way things were?”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’ve driven a gap between us out of my own fear. Maybe I felt that backing away would help. Being around each other constantly only makes the feelings deepen. I’ve missed you and I do have feelings for you. A lot of them. I was scared of everyone judging me because I’m older and abusing my authority. I have to be careful, Lucas. Especially now that Captain Bridger is gone. He didn’t push Naval code like Hudson does.”

“I know that,” Lucas said, edging in a little closer towards you. That beautiful scent. It made his deeper instinct ride; butterflies were flapping with ferocity in his gut. “You worry too much about what other people think of you.”

“We’re not civilians, Lucas,” you reminded him.

“What would you have done with your life if you never enlisted?”

You took a sip of your coffee and smiled. “As a kid, I always wanted to be a vet, so I’d have worked with animals more than likely.”

“What made you enlist? You’ve never had that typical Navy way about you.”

“I finished university with a useless degree in English and I saw advertisements at a job fayre. I wanted something new and interesting. I almost failed my initial medical though.”

“Why?”

“I was taking medication for panic attacks. I stopped taking it a week before my examination and never declared it. Who wants a Naval officer who’s always anxious?”

“I don’t believe that at all. You’re probably the most chilled of anyone when we have an emergency.”

You chuckled. “I’ve learned to control it. And I find when I’m leading others, I’m more at ease. I can be calm for other people but not myself.”

That evening, a large group of you decided to head for a sit down meal at a local restaurant. Piano music was playing overhead and the lighting was dimmed, adding to a relaxing atmosphere. The waiter, a hook-nosed Italian man in overly tightly trousers, guided you over to a large, round table in the back corner.

You nudged Brody and pointed to the waiter. “It’s a wonder he doesn’t pop a nut.”

Lonnie and Tony immediately smiled, enjoying the fact that your usual self was coming back to the surface.

The whole meal was laid back, fun and light-hearted. You couldn’t help but notice the subtle glances that were exchanged between Lonnie and Jonathan Ford. Tim O’Neill seemed a little irritated by it, rolling his eyes a couple of times. When you saw Tim be so quiet, it reminded you of Miguel Ortiz, whom you had had a slight crush on when you first came aboard seaQuest. He and Tim had been good friends, and since Miguel’s passing in combat, Tim seemed a little lost at times.

By the time that the meal was over, most of the group had disappeared into the bar. There was only you, Lonnie and Jonathan Ford left at the table, which made you feel like a spare part. You excused yourself and walked out the front door of the restaurant. Chatter and laughter filled the air outside on the veranda. Dozens of people were drinking, eating and enjoying the night time air.

You began to walk, crossing the street and heading onto the empty beach. The chill in the air, the bright, full moon and the sound of crashing waves soothed you. In a hectic world where you were constantly fighting for control, you were now centred. Everything was simple. No worry. No orders. Just the stars, sand and sea.

Lucas looked for you, only to spot you standing on the beach. He could tell you from across the street. Proud shoulders, hands in pockets, bright coloured blouse, bandana in hair. That could only be you.

“You okay?” he asked.

You turned and smiled, then stepped back towards him. You curled your arm through his and put your head on his shoulder. The two of you remained quiet for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company. To Lucas’ surprise, you took his hand and held it tight.

Tony and Brody looked on from the front of the restaurant.

“If the age gap is their only concern then they’ve got more going for them than most couples,” Brody said.

“He’s definitely lucky to have her.”

By the time you made it back to the bar in the restaurant, you and Lucas were hand in hand. Tony grinned at you both and then cheered, drawing attention from the rest of the crew who were all sat in a booth together.

Laughter ensued almost immediately as all the men, apart from Lucas, began competing in a drinking game.

“One, two, three,” Tony counted, banging his free hand on the table top. All of the participants of the game tossed shots down their throats, then proceeded to continue on with a further two, downing them as quickly as possibly without vomiting. Tim O’Neill gagged, almost propelling his meal from his gut. Jim Brody fell into a coughing fit. Jonathan Ford blinked hard, pushing vodka-induced tears away. Tony merely laughed, playing a drum beat on the table.

You could sense Lucas’ eyes on you as you sat beside each other. His arm was stretched across the back of the seat behind you. His nerves were finally beginning to settle a little, reminding himself again and again that it was still you. You were the same person he had known now for almost two years and had had a bad crush on the whole time. There were so many times that he had imagined how you would feel under his fingertips, the way your lips would taste against his, the sound of your hitched breath as you kissed with passion. And you did not disappoint. All of his fantasies had fallen short of the beauty of reality.

Around midnight and the men of the group were considerably less sober than when they’d arrived for dinner just over four hours earlier. Tony was now daring Brody to go swimming in the sea naked, which the Lieutenant was actually considering to do. Ford and O’Neill were arm wrestling, leaving you to chat with Lucas and Lonnie. A bottle of expensive red wine was on the table. Lonnie sipped from her glass now and again, encouraging you to have a drink, but you never drank alcohol as it only made your anxiety worse.

“I’m going to retire to bed, I think,” you announced.

“I’ll walk you back,” Lucas proposed.

Together, you and Lucas began your short walk back to the hotel. You strolled along comfortably hand in hand. People walked past you, glancing at you for only a brief second before continuing on. No one stared like you thought they would. They were all unawares of the age gap between you both that you always thought was noticeable.

You woke the next morning to bright sunlight shining through the open curtains. Lucas was lying with his back to you. You slipped out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

Lucas heard the toilet flush and looked up at the ceiling, smiling. Would you regret the night previously? He hoped so much that you wouldn’t.

“Good morning,” you said with a smile, exiting the bathroom in your pyjamas.

“Morning,” Lucas replied, groggy with sleep and happiness.

You slipped back into bed and rolled over to him, kissing his lips. He seemed to gain more confidence the more that you kissed. The tension was seeping out of your actions the more that you acted on your feelings. Fear was losing its grip on you.

Both of you remained in bed for a short while, until you announced that you were getting dressed to head downstairs for breakfast.

“I’m tired,” Lucas groaned.

“Get up, Ensign. That’s an order,” you chuckled.

“Now who’s abusing their authority, Lieutenant?”

“Well if you’re expecting any kind of repeat of last night then you’re going to have to be well-behaved now, aren’t you?”

“You never seemed the type to subject me to blackmail.”

“I’m going to head down,” you said, putting the conversation back on a serious note. “Do you want me to bring you anything back up?”

Lucas just smiled. “I’ll come down with you.”

When you got downstairs, Lonnie and Commander Ford were already sat at a table for two. You and Lucas made yourself comfortable just across from them.

“How’s the head, Commander?” you chuckled.

“Strangely it’s okay. For now. No quick and sudden movements and I should be fine,” he replied with a smile.

You poured yourself a mug of English tea and began to eat your breakfast which had been served.

Tim O’Neill came half staggering into the large dining area and plopped down on a seat next to Lucas. “Remind me to never drink again,” he groaned.

Lucas looked up at you ever now and again, his blue eyes twinkling with something you hadn’t seen before. Contentment maybe? Or perhaps happiness? Whatever it was, you knew he needed both, and you hoped that you had given that to him.

The rest of that day was fairly eventful, with a visit to the local art museum with Lucas, Lonnie and Commander Ford.

Jonathan Ford couldn’t deny that he was shocked by the sudden and dramatic change in yours and Lucas’ relationship dynamic. His Navy instinct told him that something needed to be said, a warning to you both of potential consequences. But the kind side of him won out. Why try and damage that haze of happiness that was suspended around you both? Once Captain Hudson returned to the seaQuest, a relationship was something that you and Lucas would have to either end or keep secret. No way would Hudson advocate romance on his boat.

At the beach during the afternoon, Tony sat beside Lucas whilst you remained with Lonnie, enjoying an ice cream cone.

“So? What happened last night? Brody told me that you stayed in her room,” Tony enquired.

“Yeah, I stayed with her. What happened is none of your business,” Lucas replied.

“Lucas, come on! You gotta tell me. I didn’t arm you with rubber for nothin’!”

Lucas merely smirked. “Lets just say that it was put to good use.”

“Way to go, my boy!” Tony exclaimed.

“Tony, shut up. She’s only over there,” Lucas growled.

“So, I need details. How was it? Was she good?”

“None of your business,” Lucas hissed and moved away. He approached you and Lonnie, and as he looked at you, he knew there was only one word that could have described the night previously: incredible. No way was he about to disrespect you and discuss your private life with others.

“Can I borrow you for a few minutes?” he asked you.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, and got up from the warm sand. “Everything okay?”

You both moved away from the rest of the group. “Yeah. I just wanted to be alone with you for a while.”

The two of you took a slow walk down to the water’s edge, the tide returning from its long descent out towards the horizon. Hand in hand, you were silent for a few minutes. The sun’s rays were warm against your back, but a gentle breeze refreshed the air, biting through the humidity. You felt that inner calm come flooding to the surface again. Lucas’ arm wound around your waist and you prayed in silence that this was the right thing for both of you.

#seaquest #seaquest dsv #seaquest 2032 #Lucas wolenczak #captain Oliver hudson #Jonathan brandis #Michael ironside #Lucas wolenczak x you #Lucas wolenczak x reader #Lucas wolenczak x fem!reader #reader insert #lieutenant lonnie henderson #commander Jonathan ford #lieutenant James brody #dagwood #Tony piccolo #lieutenant Tim o'neill

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dylanxmin · 4 years

Text

we were strangers | knj

part of ‘The Chronicles of Y/N’ Collab. - @heartsforbtsnet

pairing; kim namjoon x reader

genre; fluff, humor, and angst, strangers to lovers au? high school au

rating; pg15

warnings; slight swearings, light angst where can be harsh for someone (but not THAT harsh)

word count; 10k

summary; y/n recieves a love letter in her locker

a/n; this fic suppose to be a ‘short’ one but, it turned out as 10k, and i don’t know how this is happened. it was out of blue guys i swear! lol,, i hope you are all can enjoy while reading this fic, and love it as well. thank you for reading, and feedbacks are always appreciated by me, just for the records! love you, all ♡

You’re feeling the pressure of the hands as they met with your skin to hold you safe from not knocking off the ground, familiarly holding you up, pushing you until your feet’s lost the touch of the ground, as your back tightening with the tension, also with a little fear of from hitting to the ground, but you’d never admit that to yourself or anyone who knows you.

After the last push, while goosebumps taking over your body, frequent throbbing of your pulse hitting you by the neck, finally you were able to feel the ground on your feet now.

“Okay, I guess that’s enough for today,” you said before clapping hands for two times, and your gaze wandered on your teammates while panting in sweat, slightly dripping on your forehead. Your friends who were covered in white and red uniform, cheered up a little, imitatively clapped after you, all breathless under their wet uniforms. “I don’t know what possessed you today, but you were hard on us Y/N,” whiney boy, started to walk towards to you, as the others were walking the opposite direction from you, most of them were mumbling somethings you shouldn’t hear, but you could manage to hear all the curses for you, gossip about how strict you were today, and it was like they did it on purpose to be hearable by you.

“We need to practice more as the matches are soon,” you repeated the words that you said on the last practice, “Do you want to fail, in front of the other teams?” as you continued ironically, your friend’s eyes rolled at you, nodded his head for a couple of time. “Yes, yes. You said these words before Y/N,” he murmured under his breath, hearable enough as he was getting closer to you, but his attitude didn’t irritate you because this was his usual behavior towards you.

Yes, you were a little tight for these couple weeks, but it’s for the best, as you wanted to look good when you are going to present your moves and all. Maybe you were being hard on them, but it’s for the best, and they should be thankful for your efforts on this team, rather than hating you or, gossiping about you. At least, you thought like this, but the others were thinking that you were being a pain in the ass, as they were slightly right.

“Jungkook, I just want to be better, it’s not something bad, am I wrong?” your friend gave a response to you by nodding his head, as the meaning of an agreement. He was standing in front of you know, eyes were looking at you in irony, but you choose to toss it. “I don’t think it’s just because you want to be better, but okay, I’m not going to dig it up.” You watched him as he shrugged, holding his hands beside his body but in return, you rolled your eyes.

Jungkook was talking beside you as you were walking to the showers because you were in sweat and a little dirty due to touching the ground while practicing. He was talking about how he found ‘the one’, describing her, talking about her while you were sinking on your thoughts, and of course, you love to talk with him, but this wasn’t the first time that he thought that he found ‘the one’, which you were sure it wasn’t going to be the last one.

He always finds a new girl that he convince himself about that she was the one, but after a couple of weeks, they would split out, due to the news that she wasn’t ‘the one’, as always. It’s never changed because he was susceptible when it’s come to relationships and you never understand why or, how can someone be like this. You never had a first love or, anything like that. Yes, you had relationships and yes, you had crushs but love was something different, it was more serious than a little crush, and dating for two weeks.

Before taking a shower, you stop at your locker to take your little bag that includes your hair products, but Jungkook was still there, talking about his love, constantly. “I’m telling you Y/N, this time it feels right,” he was excited and talking with you while his eyes sparkling in happiness, brushing his hair for a couple of time, moving on his feet as smiling widely, and you couldn’t help but smile in return, nodding.

As soon as you opened your locker, little brownish paper falls at your feet, taking you by surprise as your friends shut his mouth while scowling his brows. “Is that a letter?” he implies, but you shook your head, kneeling quickly to take the paper before him, “No, no, it’s mine,” you reassured him, with a simple tone for not alarming him, but he was still scowling his brows at you.

“It’s mine Jungkook,” you slightly hit his shoulders as he was exaggerating the situation, but in the truth, he was right and it was a letter.

You didn’t know who put it in here or, why they did it, but still, the last thing you wanted to hear from your best friend that it was a sign for true love or, something close to that.

Luckily, he shrugged and distracted by your teammates as you put the letter at your bag, quickly before getting his attention to yourself. Now, you have to wait to take a shower to read the letter, but you know that it was going to be hard for you because even now, curiosity takes over your body. You couldn’t stop counting the time, as you want to read that letter as fast as you can, taking a shower never felt this long before in your life and you quit showering shorter than your normal routine and if you had to imply this, you didn’t even use your third balm for your face and yes, that’s how much you were dying to read that letter.

Freshly combed hair of yours spreading on your shoulders, it was still wet and dripping water slowly, while you sitting on the bench in the locker room, eagerly taking the brownish paper from your bag, it was wrinkled on the corner and before opening, you tried to fix it but it was useless.

“Here we go,” you said. Panting in excitement, your cheeks already heating up with the feeling of this mysterious letter giving you, and you open the symmetrically closed letter, gently. You paused for a second, as the owner’s handwriting was obviously stunning, and it surprised you, but without wasting another moment you start to read the letter.

‘’

I don’t know how to start this, and I’m not even sure if I’m going to give this letter to you but, here ya’ go.

Y/N, I really like seeing your smile, even if you are not smiling for me, your giggles that appears when you heard a good joke, even they are not mine, I love hearing it, and it fits you so good. Wait, is this getting creepy? I don’t want to sound creepy. This is supposed to be a love letter, not a creepy stalker’s letter.

I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable right now, but after three years I had to tell you about my feelings at this moment because I don’t want to graduate if you are not going to be my date on the ball. L/N Y/N, I love every little detail about you. When your eyes nearly disappear while you are laughing at something, pouting when you get mad at someone or, even something. And mostly, I love seeing you acting bravely, even though you fear from height, you go there and take that jump, while closing your eyes wide shut, clanging your nails to your palm.

As I said before, I love every little detail about you, and I want you to be my date, only if you want it of course, but please don’t just ignore me. At least, you can give me a change right? I’ll be waiting for you,,

‘’

Disaster. It was nothing but a disaster for you. Of course, it's not because someone gave you a love letter, it was a disaster because that person knew your fear of height, and it was unacceptable for you, as no one knows about this. You purposely hide this from everyone because let's be honest, who would let a girl into a cheerleader team as a leader when that girl has acrophobia. Even hearing it was ridiculous, and everybody would make fun of you.

Even your best friends didn't know this information about you. Who is this person? You needed answers, but have no idea about how to get them, but what if you reject this person, what if everyone learns your fear? This is highschool for sake, they would tear your reputation apart. The one you build in years. ''Fuck,'' you sighed, cursed a thousand times under your breath, but the pity hours come to an end, as your eyes reach to the end of the paper, which now you were able to see that there was one part that still staying unfold.

Your blood starts to quicken in your veins, maybe there is a clue about the person who writes this, so you cursed one more time but it was for you this time. How could you not realize that there is more to read?

What is this?

You cursed yourself for nothing, at least you decide to that as your eyes blankly stare the numbers at the end of the letter. Okay, you were not terrible at math, but it wasn't your stronger subject, you sighed in defied. You'll never know who wrote this, and everyone probably will learn about your fear, then they'd mock you all the time. Wonderful! Now you have to learn how to get through your last year without being a dropout.

''-and then I broke up with her. Bro, I'm telling you, it was vicious.'' Jungkook start to laugh, violently shaking while laughing so he ends up kicking the table, bringing you back to the living's world.

''Aish! Can you chill a little?'' you whined.

''Not that you are not right about Jungkook, but what is going on with you lately, Y/N?'' Jimin's curious stares placed on you, while you try to steal his rice from his bowl but he cuts you off, you whined twice. ''I'm okay. There is nothing to tell.''

''I'm serious. The only important thing is Jungkook's break up at the moment, and how he is not devastated after this break-up, huh?'' you tried to change the topic, don't want to be in the spotlight right now. It was the last thing you want at the moment, but as always, your friends were persistent to suffocate you. ''Y/N, we are sitting here almost for twenty minutes now, but you didn't speak for once. Even when Jungkook stole your Kimbap.''

''What?'' you take your eyes from Jimin, furiously landed on Jungkook and his dirty mouth, the mouth that has stains of your food.

''Ahh! Did you have to hit that hard? Off,'' Jungkook, start to rub his arm, where you hit mercilessly, but he deserves that. It's not that you feel hungry, but hitting Jungkook makes you feel better, and honestly, you didn't have any problem with taking your anger on these boys because they had have done worse things than this, so it was okay. But Jimin was right about something that was going on with you.

One week had passed after you find that letter, but there was no progress on finding the one who wrote it, and you were freaking out every moment, fearing that someone will learn about your secret. Maybe, it wasn't a big deal for other people, but this topic was extremely important for you, and you were tense about it.

''Uhh, come on Y/N, tell us already.''

''Okay, okay!'' eventually, you gave up and reach to your backpack for taking the letter. ''I think she is going to stab us?'' Jungkook whispers to Jimin, his eyes looking at his friend wide open, and Jimin replies to him with a simple head shake. Even though you heard his stupid question, you let it slide by your ears, and after finding the letter, you turn to them while pouting.

''Here.'' your friends stared the brown paper that you just throw at the table, their sights wander between on you and the letter, so you sighed before explaining them.

''Do you remember a paper fell from my locker, and I said it was mine?'' Jungkook nods, knitting his brows. ''It wasn't mine.''

''I know it!'' While Jungkook jumps on his chair, standing up while pointing you with his finger, Jimin's stares lands on both of you, confusedly looking at you two. ''Can someone explain this to me?''

''You, my friend, looking at a snake at the moment. She is smooth and would bite you in the right moment.'' With wide-open eyes you stare at him, brows raised in surprise but it didn't last long. You pull him back to his seat before starting to talk, as everyone was looking at you three, and you didn't want this kind of attention at the moment.

''Stop exaggerating the situation, idiot! Just read the damn letter.'' after you, they attack the letter. You just wished for the letter's sake, as you need it as one piece.

While their eyes go right and left swiftly, you take your gaze from them to land on your nails, taking your nail file in your right hand to amuse yourself when they’re reading the letter. Maybe you were exaggerating the situation, and nothing bad would happen if you can't find the one who wrote it, as this was a love letter and that's mean the one who wrote this loves you, so wouldn't do something bad, something that could bring your repetition down. Maybe, this was all your overly working imagination, and everything would be fine.

''What are these numbers at the end?'' Jimin sounds so confused as his eyes were reflecting it, looking with a wide gaze.

''This is the weirdest love letter that I ever seen.'' you nod as a response to Jungkook, even though it was your first love letter. You have no idea about how love letters should be.

''And you received lots of love letters?'' Jimin scoffs.

''Well, I don't think this is the importing thing at the moment, but if you need to know, I did send lots of love letters.'' Jungkook crossed his arms on his chest and landed his gaze on Jimin, confidently.

''Bro, this is not something you should be proud of,'' watching them while they are mocking, provocating each other always made your day better, and for one second, letter vanished from your mind with your anxiety. So you just waited until they finish roasting each other before getting distracted by the letter, and turning their eyes at you.

''Okay but seriously, do you know what are these numbers?'' you shrug your shoulds, taking the letter from the table in your hands, looking at the numbers with blank stares. ''I have no idea, and I need to find this person, but I have no idea about that either.''

''Wait a second. You afraid from height?'' Jungkook's voice echoed in the cafeteria once again, and you immediately shut his mouth with your hand, covered on his lips. Your eyes start to wander on the people whose eyes were landing on your table, confusedly looking at you three.

''Shout again and I will punch you.'' you threaten him, while his wide eyes looking at you, nodding swiftly before you take your hand from his mouth. This is why you kept it as a secret. You knew that he would spill it to everyone, and probably would think it was not something to be shy about, but it was exactly like that for you.

''Yes, I'm afraid of it, but I don't want to talk about that right now, okay?'' both of them nod in surprise but you appreciate it as they agreed with you. You didn't want to talk about it right now, both because you were tense about this topic, and you were at the school cafeteria, where someone can easily eavesdrop on your conversations.

''Okay, so I am heading to numbers, then.'' Jimin reaches to your hands to take the letter, knitting his brows while checking the letter. ''What if they are some kind of a code that reveals the one who wrote this?''

Oh god.

Why you never think of that before?

Actually, this is a good idea, and your heartbeat quicken with the tiny lead. If you could crack the code, then you could find the owner. But there was a little problem with cracking the code.

How?

''Even if it's a code, how are you two going to solve it? I don't think you guys can do it. No offense.''

Jungkook looks at you and Jimin in disbelief, smiling at his own words. Even though he was right, he irritates you with his annoying attitudes.

''We can't do it, but you can?'' Jimin scoffed once again, and Jungkook's smile starts to fade, turning into a rage as he looks at him with slit-eyes. You clapped your hands while laughing, and it made Jungkook angrier, as he starts to pout. ''Who would crack it then?''

''Wait a minute. There is a boy in his senior years who understands computers and all these code things, right?'' Jimin's eyes starts sparkling, asking you but you had no idea. ''O-Oh! Yes, yes. The boy with good grades right? The nerd.'' Jungkook answered him in excitement, leaving his anger aside. Both of them nodded in excitement, but still, you had no idea about who they were talking about.

''Who is that?''

''What was his name? I guess it starts with N? Aish,'' Jungkook starts to scratching his head with knitting his brows, trying to find his name. While you were waiting for an answer from him, a loud voice echoed once again, and you jump in your seat. ''What the hell Jim-''

''Namjoon. Kim Namjoon!'' but before you can finish your words and yell at Jimin for hitting the table this loud, the name spilled from his lips.

Kim Namjoon.

You feel like you heard this name before but can't recall the boy's face. Fortunately, you'll see his face, as you are going to him desperately, and begging for him to crack this stupid code, or whatever this is.

It wouldn’t be an exaggerating if you say that you could faint from nervousness, as it was true. As you were standing on the hallway where it’s covered with lockers, which you were laying your back to the particular one. The locker that belongs to Kim Namjoon. Your future savior or, you wished it would come out that way.

You hoped that he could crack the code, -which you even weren’t sure if it’s a code but still-, and find the person who wrote that letter. Because you need to find that person, as you need to know how that person learned about your fear. It was long forgotten that it was a love letter, which had been sent to you, basically asking you to be his date on the ball, but you didn’t care about it.

Jungkook and Jimin reassured you very well that boy named Namjoon was really good at with computers and cracking codes and even, making a code. They even said that he helped a lot of people with their problems with computers and all, as you surprised at how you couldn’t recall him. His face was a mystery for you, and after learning his locker from your friends -which they learned from his best friend’s, Jung Hoseok. Another person you can’t recall-, you immediately run here, after your practice with your team to meet with this boy.

While you were staring at his plain gray locker, students start to fill the corridors, noises start to reach your ears, and your heart starts to beat swiftly. You were one step closer to find that person. Your fingers start to wander on the locker, you feel the relief on your chest, as you are going to find the owner, and talk about your fear.

“Can I help you?” a thick voice, scared the hell out of you, as you jumped before turning to the voice. But while waiting to meet his face, you just met with the white school uniform. In shock, you look higher.

Okay, he was tall. Yes, you were tiny but of course, you wouldn’t except it so easily, and the height differences only caused because he was so tall. Not because you were the size of a bean, not at all.

“Ye... yes you might help, if you are Kim Namjoon.” you stopped staring at him and do the talk, as he was starting to look at you with furrowed brows. His light brown hair separated from the left side of his head, a tip of his hair falling on to his right side of his forehead, above from his darker brown brows, which they were raised in curiosity at the moment. His upturned nose, placed symmetrically above his plump lips, glowing in light pink.

“I am Namjoon but what do you want?” beside your estimations, he wasn’t kind or kind of a lame guy, as your friends called him nerd more than one time. So, automatically you assumed that he was a shy, introvert guy but, clearly you were wrong, as he didn’t look like it.

“Well, probably you know my name but I am L/N Y/N, and I need your help with something,” you said confidently, holding your chin up.

“Yes, I saw you a couple of times, laughing very loudly at the library, but no. I didn’t know your name.” he shrugged his shoulders, while you staring at him with an ‘o’ shaped mouth.

How disrespectful.

You were the leader of the cheerleader team, and he didn’t know your name? Everyone knows your name, and even though you sound annoying, it’s the truth.

“Are you sure that you belong to this school?” you ask in irony, but he simply scoffs while telling you to go back with his hand gesture, so you step back.

“The one you were staring and completely blocking me from reaching is my locker so yes, I belong to this school.” you gasp at his answer. Why he was acting so rude towards you and most importantly how? You weren’t a girl who looks down at people just because you were popular, but you deserve to be acted respectfully from others as you had dignity and reputation that you had build in years.

“I guess it’s fair,” you said under your breath, while he opens his locker, blocking your face as it stops inches away from your nose. Your brows furrowed immediately, couldn’t believe how he ignored you. You let out a tiny fake cough, as trying to get his attention on you, but he didn’t even bother to look at you.

“Don’t you going to ask me why I needed you?” you stretch out your head, before talking to him. Your annoyance could be hearable from your voice, but he only looks at you after taking his books from his locker and shutting it.

“I’m listening.”

“I... I heard that you are good with cracking codes.” you paused for a moment but he remained silent, staring. His eyes, looking into yours but you could swear that he sees more than that, and it irritated you. Unintentionally you crossed your arms above your chest, uncomfortably. “I have a code that waiting to be solved.”

“I’ll do it.” heavyweight lifted from your chest as he started to speak, a smile placed on your lips but it didn’t last long.

“You have to buy me dinner.”

“Wait, what?” you tried to speak but he raised his brows, starts to speak before you do. “I guess you don’t need my help after all.”

“Okay, okay. Dinner it is.” you grab his arm, as he tried to turn his back at you. His stares placed on your hand, where it’s standing on his arm, tightly that fingertips turn into white color, so you take it back quickly. Both of your cheeks go red, and you couldn’t understand why he starts to blush, as you were the one who made an awkward move.

His confident expression vanished in second, mouth opened and closed for a couple of times, as you stared him in surprise.

“Are you available at the moment?” you ask, but his eyes not looking at you, rather, placed on the lockers. “Yah!” you tried to poke him, but he takes a step back quickly that surprised you once again.

“I..I am.” he starts to walk, leaving you behind.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” after a moment of pause, you start to follow him, but he was acting fast and comparing your leg heights, it was hard for you to reach him so easily.

You start to speed up. You were almost running right now, and your homeroom teacher’s voice reached to your ears, as he was telling you not to run on the corridors, but you bowed a little without stopping running. “Sorry,” Normally you would listen to your teachers but right now, there was something more important than obeying the rules. One second you thought that you lost him, but after looking to the right and left, your eyes catch him, entering the study room.

You enter it after him, tried to speak but it was useless for a moment as you needed to gather your breaths. “Why are you running from me?”

“I am not.” he looks at your pointed finger, then takes a seat on one of the tables.

“You asked for my help so I come here to help you.”

“You!” you stopped as your voice come out louder than you imagined, but thankfully there were no other people which it was quite strange, as this place always filled with people who studies for 7/24.

“You did run away,” you speak with your normal voice now.

“Do you want my help or not?” one brow raised, threatening glance of his lands on you. You afraid that he wouldn’t help you with the code, so you start to shake your hand in front of his face. “Okay, okay. I want your help.”

His grin appears on his face, as you dropped the topic, in a way you let him win this round.

''What do you mean it would take two weeks to crack?'' your voice came out louder than you think but you didn't mind that as you were feeling a bit of disappointment. ''Aren't you the nerd who solves these codes and things like that?''

''The nerd?'' his face reveals his annoyance of your words, which you didn't mean to hurt him, as you talk before thinking once again. The worst habits of yours, talking before thinking, not that you don't care about the feelings of people, but mostly because you were stupid, and had no control over your tongue.

''I didn't say it as a bad thing or, to insult you. I mean, I heard that you are smart and very good with this,'' you waved your hand, showing the letter, emphasizing your words with a gesture.

''Yes, I am good with these things but it takes time. As you are not the 'nerd' one, you can't understand that, right?''

''Rude,'' you said as he was looking at you with a glance that challenging you.

You had never been so insulted in your entire life, beside your friends but they didn’t count, as you insult them more than they do. Hence, you were surprised at his words, how he chooses to mock you and bother you, intentionally. He crossed his arms on his chest, shoulders doubled with the action, muscles visible now under his uniform, and you couldn't stop thinking how huge he is. You were not saying only comparing him to yourself, but as you think of your friends and every boy in this school, damn, he was huge.

''Are you trying to find a way to sneak up on me or, something?'' you jump on where you’re standing, distracted from your thoughts.

He scared the hell out you with his thick voice, mocking you and brows furrowed with locked eyes on your face. Heat starts to fill on your cheeks, hands sweating and you wish that he can't understand your situation at the moment while wiping your palms to the side of your legs. ''No.''

''Then stop looking at me like a creep and buy me a dinner.''

Creep?

You did not look at him like a creep, of course. He is just one boy who exaggerates everything, and you could say that after knowing him in two days. ''Did you crack the code?''

''No? I said it would take two weeks. Aren't you listening?'' he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief.

''You get your dinner, after cracking it.'' You are not some dumb girl who would spend her money on nothing. He has to learn that he could not take advantage of you or your money.

''I can't work with an empty stomach, right?'' his grin starts to appear on his lips, while yours fades away. This boy would be the death of you with this kind of bratty attitude, but he was the only person you could lean on about your problem.

''Fine!'' you gave up eventually, throwing deadly stares at him before turning your back to him, start to walk.

One dinner and your problem would be solved.

Unbelievable.

It was just unbelievable how he could eat this much food. I guess the mystery of his huge body solved after seeing his eating habits. You start to scan the boy who takes a sip from his bowl, nearly finishing his Kalguksu, as well as your money. His appetite manage to surprise you every time you bought dinner for him, as this was your fifth time. He always finds a way to trick you into buying him dinner, mostly he relies on you, needing him for that stupid letter.

You cursed yourself more than one time for taking your friend's ideas about asking for his help and agreeing with the dinner thing. As you were sitting at the study room, for the fifth time, waiting for him to solve this code, but every time he would say that he got hungry and couldn't work on the code, so you had to buy him food, sneaking it to the study room.

He would thank you with a big grin, and you would hold your eager to punch him every time, only smiling and saying 'it’s not a big deal'.

In fact, it was a big deal.

It's been almost two weeks now but he still did not finish solving the code or, told you how it was going. You didn't even know if he was close to solving it or, not.

You knew nothing, as your anxiety raising in you almost every day that someone would find out about your secret. You were afraid that the one who wrote this letter would get sick of and starts to tell about your secret to everyone, only to get revenge from you, as he could think that you ignored his confession.

On the other hand, Jimin and Jungkook would tell you that you were so stupid, and no one would care about your fear, but little did they know that this was high school and everyone tries to tear each other apart?

Plus, Namjoon had surprised you in the first time you met with him, and never stopped surprising you with his attitudes. When Jungkook called him a 'nerd', you thought it was a piece of cake, but you couldn't be more wrong.

He always finds a way to trick you, mock you, and make you feel vulnerable around him. You always end up blushing, can't find the right words for giving him a good response the way you do it with your friends, and your heart would go crazy every time he stops what he was doing on that computer, and starts to stare at you. Goosebumps would surround your body, and you would end up yelling at him for him to stop staring at you.

As you were staring at him while he was eating his food, you couldn't realize that he has already finished his meal and his eyes focused on yours, brows raises slowly as you start to get blush all over again. ''Is it fun to stare at me or something?''

''Uh-huh. So much.'' you shake your head, not looking at his smile.

How did he catch you while you are staring at him, again.

Well, maybe if you bother to stop staring at him, like constantly, maybe he wouldn’t be caught you all the time. You weren’t the only one who always yell at him to stop staring at you, as it’s obvious. To be honest, you got caught more than him, when it comes to staring. But you just couldn’t understand how he could be like this.

He was supposed to be a nerd that who would be shy around you, flinch every time he sees you and acts like a god damn introverted person, rather, he would be bossy around you, mocking you, and would look really good while smiling as his little dimples would appear on his cheeks, fills your heart with the familiar warmth, as you feel it every time you see him on the school corridors, study room, and while he was waiting for your practice to be done at the benches.

You couldn’t figure it out, why your heart flinched every time you see him or, you would try to ignore these feelings most of the time, but he wasn’t of much help with the ignoring plan while sitting across you with his stupid dimples. “Well, you are still staring,”

“I am not!” you take your eyes from him, cheeks filling with heat, getting red with the unbearable emotions, while his eyes widening, brows of him raising. You were completely in denial, but you are not going to accept it, not while getting red under his sight, silly grin standing on his face. “Are you not done with the code yet? Should I find another person for it? Because it looks like you are stalling me and-“

“I cracked it!” his voice caused you to shiver visibly. It it was louder than before, and his jaw twitches with his sudden rage. You couldn’t find a word to say to him, you wanted to yell at him, as he fooled you with this shitty games, told you lies all these days, but rather you couldn’t say anything, while his burning glares wandering on you. “I..you..”

“Why are you so obsessed with finding the one who wrote this letter?” just like before, your mouth opened only to be shut down once again. Yes, you were obsessed to find him and yes, it is all because of your stupid phobia and even though he knew about the letter and probably the phobia part, you didn’t want to say this out loud, but most importantly you didn’t want to tell him out loud.

Yes, you know that this sounds really childish but maybe he just skipped the part where all the confession happened and minded to look only to the code. So, if he didn’t read that part, which you were deeply wished for that, you didn’t want him to learn it. He was already making fun of you more than you can handle, and already makes you feel vulnerable around him, crashing your walls down, -which no one could ever manage to do that in years-, and if he learns this, he may say things that probably crash you, hurt you deep down, and you didn’t know why you were so afraid to look bad in his eyes, but you were.

“Did the code revealed his name? If it’s, tell me his name.” finally, you found the last pinch of strength in deep down on your heart, you tilt your head, brows raises in the excitement that you’ll finally learn something about the boy. While Namjoon remains silent, your mind starts to work about what would you say to him or, how would you turn him down and convince him not to tell your secrets to everybody in this school. It was something obvious that you’re going to turn him down, because you had no feelings for anyone, and you wouldn’t go out with someone that you feel nothing, as you promised yourself after your stupid relationships.

They ended very awkwardly, as you lost interest in them because it was nothing more than a silly crush, and eventually they would notice it, and it would get even more awkward for both of you. A text would ensue and you would become single again. So, it is clear that you are going to reject him, but you have to do it gently, as your reputation depending on this.

Not a long after you realized that you were sinking on your thoughts and Namjoon staying still ahead of you, chewing his bottom lip, and scanning your face.

''So? Say it,'' you stated once again, his silence irritated you, but he just settle with licking his lips, where he was chewing before. ''Yah!'' you called out, rising from your chair to show him how serious you are, but it turned out as a lame move, when he slowly gets up from his chair, eyeing from very above you, and you felt so tiny under him.

''Come with me,'' he replied while starting to walk towards to exit of the study room, an empty box in his hands, eaten kalguksu's remains were still visible.

''Where are you going? Hey, wait!'' you exclaimed as he continues to walk without looking at you for one second, and you hurried, catch the door before it closes.

You promised yourself that when this is all over, you're going to beat the hell out of him, but between in your thoughts, you start to speed up as his presence fades away with every step of him, and boy. How he could walk this fast, while you were nearly running to get closer to him. And this was another reason why you were going to kill him, as he always finds a way to make you run behind him, yelling at corridors, and scolded by your teachers. Ugh. You could even hate him if he wasn't helping you to find the boy you are looking for.

When you finally pass through the final door, cold breeze hitting your face with fresh air, your eyes landed on his body, standing right beside his bike and waiting for you to find him. You reach out to your hand to him even though he was standing far away from you, poking out your finger at him while your other hand resting on your knee, blissfully you remain in that pose for a while, as you tried to make your breaths go stabile from all these running, but at least you find him.

''If you do this again, I swear-''

''You should be thankful, instead of threatening me. I keep you in shape, you know?'' his grin gets wider in the same way your eyes do. You clench your fists, nails poking your flesh but your annoyance clouded the pain, rage starts to raise by your chest, getting away in your breaths, every time you exhale. ''Did you call me fat?''

''I..I did n-not,'' his grin fades away, letting its place to fear, his eyes twinkled more than once. Your anger starts to leave your body because he looked very amusing to your eyes, seeing him like this always made your day brighter.

''Good.'' you stated with a smile on corner of your lips, it's amused you how things changed in a moment. How his confidence shrink, and he turned out as the boy who is blushed around you, and run away from you when you touch him on the arm.

One time after he made you very mad that you needed to placed a slap on his arm, and even though the slap wasn't hard enough to hurt him, all of a sudden his cheeks start to get pink, eyes of him wandered around everywhere but you, and eventually he just ran away from you, and you followed him while shouting at the corridors, just like today. It amazed you, how his moods can switch in a flash. One second, he is the boy who mocks you, insults you, but when you tried to get close to him, or simply touch him, he would freak out.

''I.if-'' he stopped after failing to speak, his lips flatten in jadedly. Meantime you start to chew your lower lip, you don't know why but this time seeing him like this did not cause you joy, moreover, you worried about him. His head looking down, eyes darted to his fingers, as he was playing with them. He looked like a lost puppy, which this attitude was very foreign to you. An itch starts to build in you to hug him, but as you know him, even a bit, he would flinch and start to run away, all over again. Instead, you choose to wait.

''I will tell you if you come with me Y/N,'' finally he manages to speak, his posture changed in a minute, straighten his back and look at you with furrowed brows, doe eyes met with yours, forcing you to say yes. Eventually, you replied with a plain yes, nodding your head and not looking at him, but you could take a peek at the corner of his lips curling up, giving a shy smile. ''Hope on,''

''Hah! No way.'' you mocked while his hand patting his bike's back, showing you where to sit.

''Can't you just say yes for one time?'' he groaned, shaking his head in disbelief.

''Well, technically I just said yes to come with you.'' you rolled your eyes while emphasizing the very last conversation you just had with him.

''Just..get on, please.'' his exhaustion on his voice, keen on his big, bright eyes just poke something in your heart, so you decided to tag along with him, for this time.

''Okay. I'm going to 'hop on'.'' you teased but once again, you were happy to see his lips curled. You were sure about to regret this, all tagging along with him, but still, your heart felt softer than ever, while his dimples taking over his cheeks, making your stomach wiggle nervously. Ugh. Why would you feel this way you had no idea, but you let it slide from your mind while taking your place on the back of his bike, clenching your fingers to his uniform, avoiding to touch his back. Boy, it was going to be a long road.

Remember you saying that this road was going to be long?

Woefully, you were right about that. He gave a ride for two of you, but after leaving the city behind, buildings were nowhere to be seen, and trees filled your vision, you two had to use your legs to reach the place he was taking you. The harsh wind continuing to sting your arms and your face while your legs were droopy, do not want to take another step to go further, but Namjoon kept saying that you were close.

''Aish!'' while worn out from all the walking, finally you decided to give up. You let your body take its place on the ground, leg muscles start to pound with the sudden relief.

''I can't walk anymore. You have to say it right here because this body goes nowhere,'' you whined to the boy who can't be seen by your eyes, as your focus placed on the starry sky. It was getting dark and supporting your tiredness with the fact that you were walking for almost half an hour now.

''Hey, don't be dramatic this much. We have been walking only for twenty minutes, Y/N. Get up.''

''No. More. Walking.'' you stated, emphasizing every word to make sure that he understands how serious you are. You had a rough day, okay? Practicing on the field almost for two hours, stressing over not to kiss the ground with your face and of course, dealing with this boy named Namjoon. Forget the two other factor for your tiredness, Kim Namjoon can make you feel lifeless after spending only one hour with him. He is gifted with this special ability to make you suffer and suffer more.

''Hhm. No more walking,'' he imitated, you heard something different in his tone, rather than participating with you, he was after something.

After one second, his face covered your sight, his eyes darkly shined above his smile, contrast to dimples, his smile was never in the neer of being cute, but more likely appeared mischievously on his lips. Shit. You know that he was going to do something, and before you could protest, his hefty hands grabbed your wrist and lifted you without showing any effort. Before he could place you on his back, you cried out due to the rapid movement. ''At least, no more walking for you,'' he chuckles like he said the humorous thing in the world.

''What the fu...What are you doing?'' you yelled, try to pull your wrist from him, but his grab tightened around your wrists, and you protest against his ear.

''Just shut up and let me help you. I know you are tired because of your practice because you are always trying too hard, test your limits, and push too much. So stop kicking my legs and hold on to my shoulder, for god sake!'' a whimper slipped by your lips but you shut them firmly, tightened your arms around his shoulders, and tried not to choke him even though you want it badly.

''Thank you.'' this was the only thing you could hear from him for the next ten minutes. His right hand holds the bike while he was walking. Due to the sloppy road, the bike couldn't make it, and eventually, it's wheel gave up. So this is how you end up on his back, resting your chin on his shoulder, arms wrapped around him, all thanks to his bike.

The scent of fresh cocoa stirred in your lungs, easing your mind. You felt more relaxed than before, and unintentionally your nose gets closer to his neck, where his hair ends. You take a tiny breathe, as you didn't want to be heard by him, but the scent was too irresistible at the moment, so you had to do this. Soft fragrance, filled in your nose and lungs one more time, your lips curls up with the wiggle on your stomach. But your cute moment cuts short when he decides to drop you to the ground. ''Woaa...Be gentle you-''

''Did you just smelled me?'' he leered, brows of him furrowed snidely. If you had one wish on this lifetime, you would spend it to vanish from this particular moment. You moped the ground, trees, and basically everywhere other than him with your eyes. ''I.. did.. not?'' heat starts to fill to your cheeks, chew your bottom lips with uptightness. It was kinda funny how you two switching your moods, opposite to each other.

A couple of hours ago, he was the one who stuttered and gets all pink on the cheeks, but right now, you were the one who can't have a glaze on him.

Ultimately, you summon up your courage and eyed him, while he was being cheeky and your palm starts itching, in a need to punch him or at least smack him on the arm. You hate being like that, but no matter how hard you try, you always end up getting blush, and silent. You didn't know how he manages to rule over you, but you were pissed off so bad about this fact.

''I heard the little sound that your nostrils do, Y/N,'' he exposed, brows raised while tilting his head.

''Did you like it?'' normally you would think that he was mocking you or, trying to fuck up your nerves, but he seemed sincere with his wide open, blissfully glowing brown eyes. You choose to believe him, for some reason.

''Well... mm... I like... it?'' you confessed, and his dimples appeared once again, under a firm smile. You could understand that he was trying not to smile widely for not to irritate you, and you were thankful for that.

''Imm... Okay,'' he mumbled, take a deep breath after clenching his hands to each other. ''As we started to confessing, maybe... uhm... you would like to do another one?'' he suggests, brooding over his words.

''Do what?'' you hesitated, couldn't be sure what he was talking about or, asking.

Your eyes widened, blinking in fear at what just came into the corner of your mind. The idea of him mentioning the thing you most abstain to talk over.

''Look around. this place is very special to me. I only come here when I feel down or when I... need to shout out the things that I'm keeping as a secret. The things that I don't want anybody to hear.''

''No,'' you whispered. The only thing you can do at the moment, the only voice that could come out from you was whispering. You opened your mouth, dare to speak but it was useless for a second. ''Y/N, I know...I know that you have-''

''Stop!'' you growled at him, cut his words before he could say anything. You just didn't want to hear it from him, you didn't want his pity on you or, his stupid windy eyes staring at you.

''I don't want to talk about this.'' your heart starts to pounding heavily on your chest, while tears filling your eyelids. It was none of his business and neither your god damn letter. Why did you include him in your life in the first place? Why did you listen to your friend's advice in the first place?

''Y/N.. Y/N just look at me, okay?''

Namjoon's face comes out in front of you, but you couldn't see him clearly, as your tears were blurring your sight. You couldn't notice his closeness as well as your cry. When did he get so close to you, or when did he start to wipe your tears away from your cheeks. When your eyes met, warmth starts to fill in you from his dark brown eyes.

''I have a secret too, you know?'' he muttered softly with a husky voice.

You shake your head slowly, as you didn't know what was his secret about. You start to ease under his warm breath hitting your face, passing by your neck. You shivered.

''I came to this place, more than a couple of times, just to shout that secret out. Whenever I overwhelmed by the feeling that secret caused me.'' he speaks once again, thoughtfully looking at your eyes, sweet chocolates in deep thought.

You sized up his face, his expressions change the way you never see before. His brows softly raised, looking at you with his sweetly intense orbs, tracking every emotion that you put into your face. He wasn't the boy who always mock you, or irritate you out of blue or the boy who gets shy around you, abstain from you and run away, which you were still couldn't understand why he was starting to run away from you like that but right now, he was neither of them.

''What is... it?'' you breathed.

His crow's foot appeared as well as his dimples, when he starts to smile, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheek. Under the soft touch, alarming your butterflies to move in your stomach, you blinked a couple of times before shutting your eyes. The only thing you could feel at the moment was his silky finger, caring your cheek above your throbbing pulse and his breaths that tickling your skin. You didn't know why, but for some reason, you felt too droopy to open your eyes, too afraid that he might be stop. You didn't realize until now that you want him so close to you, hands on your cheeks, chest panting hysterically just inches away from you.

And for god sake, you never noticed how bad you needed him in this way.

On the other hand, Namjoon starts to get closer, reaching your ear. You feel that you were getting tense, with every minute you get closer to your edge, while mind clouded, eyes were shut, and the only thing you could feel his warm breath, hitting your neck.

''I am the one... who you are looking for.''

Either the time has stopped running, earth stop turning or, you were feeling everything at full speed. You didn't know how to feel. Angry? Confused? Anxious or maybe even joyful? Once again, your eyes met with each other, unlike your brooding gaze he was observing your face, hearty eyes looking deep inside of you, soothing your nerves, but not enough.

''Y... you? Why didn't-When?'' your voice come out squeaked, and you just decided to stop. Even if you wanted to continue, you couldn't due to your lack of energy. You felt drained.

How could he say this, how could he plan all of this? Did he know that you would go to see him for his help? Did he want to mock you and drill your soul with every joke? Did he enjoy your suffering? All this time he knew that you were afraid of the idea of your secret wandering around, but he only stood there and watch you go crazy? So many questions starts coming to your mind out of blue and you start to feel trapped, anxious, but from inside of these questions, there was the only one that matter to you.

Did he really like you or, he just wanted to see your suffering?

''I know, you are probably want to kick me right now, and I swear I will let you do it, but before that please listen to me for just one time, huh?'' he begged.

Fingers still caring your cheeks softly, pleading eyes giving you the hint of his sincere, so you just go with a simple nod. You couldn't find your voice to reply to him, anyway. His mesmerizing brown orbs relieved after you let him, he sighed before starting to talk.

''I put that letter in your locker, and I added that code because I knew that you would come to me for help. I did help your friends more than once, and yes, I know that they would suggest my help. And then you came. You really came to me and it all worked out just like how I wanted. I had some doubts that you wouldn't-''

''Did you meant those words or, after learning about my secret you came out with some kind of a plan where you can easily insult me? Did you enjoy how I was terrified with it? Someone out there knows my secret and probably would spread it to everyone. Did you enjoyed how I feel miserable and... and,'' while you trying to find the right words to continue, he groaned. Start to wipe the tears from your face, you weren't aware of them fallen through your cheeks, until now.

''No. Fuck sake, Y/N. Of course, I didn't send that only to mock you.'' he was pained with what you implied, brows furrowed.

''I do like you, Y/N. I really do. I wasn't lying about having feelings for you almost four years now. I tried to find a way to talk to you, open up my feelings to you from the middle school, but I never had that courage. And how could I manage to do that exactly, look at you. You are beautiful, smart, and brightest girl in the universe. You are in the cheerleader team, everyone either loves you or wants to be you, Y/N.''

''Namjoon, stop-''

''And look at me. Who am I? The school nerd for you. I guess you can figure it out why I couldn't say it before. It's not that hard.'' he finished while panting. One of his hands left your face to scatter, pass through his hair. His words and his sullen eyes made your heart ache, itch with full of woe. You'd never imagined him like this, saying these words to himself, talking nonsense.

Yes, you didn't remember him right away or when Jungkook said that he was a 'nerd' you thought different things but looking at him, you couldn't be more wrong with your expectation of him, as well as him.

He has a large, muscular body where surrounded with broad shoulders. His brown, untamed thick hair fallen to his forehead, only to make him look more charming than already. Heart-shaped face, completed with almond-shaped dark brown eyes and plumpy lips, settled between his dimples. He could be a nerd, but he wasn't a smart one. Because no one could resist to fall for him, not to feel goosebumps on the neck and butterflies in the stomach. The one who can't resist falling for him was none other than you.

All this time, you tried to fight back with these butterflies, goosebumps, and heat on your body whenever you see him, but as one can understand you were very unskilful for this.

''Do you really like me? Me?'' you doubted. It's not that you see yourself down, or not good enough but it was because of him. You never imagined a scenario that he had feelings for you, as he always finds a way to irritate you with his mean comments and attitudes.

''I really do, Y/N.'' his shoulders slouched, lips pouted at the end of his words. He couldn't look cuter than this, even if he tries. Your heart merely starts to melt, the warm feeling filled in your stomach, as you lifted your chin up. ''You did plan all of this, knowing that I would come to you desperately and you knew that I would fall for you?'' you asked, knitting a brow.

''Y/N, I swear I never intended anything bad, how could I? I was going to say when the first time you came to me but I just couldn't, you know? I... I afraid that you would say no, and I waited for so long and I- Wait... what?'' you enjoyed while watching his face, lips taking an 'o' shape, staring bug-eyed straight at you. You tried to hold your smile back but, it was hard.

''Wait, did you just say that you fall for me?''

''You are not a smart nerd, aren't you?'' while he was still looking at you with the same silly expression, your fingers take a track to his pants, landed on his belt to pull him, but the one who moving was you. His soft chuckle singed to your ears and you didn't mind looking stupid in front of him anymore.

''Is that means you are going to come with me to the ball?'' once again, your face was cupped inside of his palms, gently caring by his thumb. You act like considering something, while he was waiting for an answer. ''Maybe, I would... if you kiss me.'' your eyes focus on his sweet pink lips, eagerly waiting for them to meet with yours.

His body slowly leans on you, face getting closer and closer while you could feel your pulse on your throat, beating jovially. And your mouth dried, fired up by the idea of his lips, touching yours. Between in a heartbeat, his smooth, wet lips touched yours, sending a shiver on your stomach, white lights burst in front of your closed eyes, as his hands moved to your waist only to pull you closer.

Your heart nearly stopped with the idea of kissing the boy who tormented you for almost two weeks, and now, you were standing on a cliff where you could see the city lights clearly, kissing while hands on each other. In a million years, you wouldn't see this coming, but it was and you felt truly happy about this. Of course, you were going to beat his ass for lying to you, and suffering you for the past weeks, but before that, you wanted to taste his lips. And you knew that kissing him once or, two times would never be enough for you, as you want to kiss him more and more right in this moment.

Unfortunately, you had to separate from him as you both needed to fresh air on your lungs. You were both panting, but wide smiles hang on your lips, and the only thing in your mind was kissing him more, again, and again.

#coycollaboration #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #bangtanhq #houseofddaeng #btswriterscollective #btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x y/n #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #bts scenarios #dylanxmin

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digitalta · 3 years

Note

( you probably get these a lot but...here i am)

i've read antithesis about 3 times, i always stopped reading around chapter 66 because it was too painful, but it's one of my favorite works in fanfiction. i convinced my sister to read it (it's like...the second fanfiction she's ever read) and she's absolutely engrossed, and today is the day i finally finished reading this tragic masterpiece. (now there's a void in my heart).

what i mean to say is...thank you (for the angst, for the drama, for the comedy, for everything). i don't know what to say or even how to say it, this is such a humane and tragic story that touched me so much that i can't even formulate a semblance of what i really want to say and what it means to me. so, thank you.

oftentimes i found myself so entranced in your writing that i feel like i didn't register the best pieces of writing and identified what could be some quotes to add to my all time favorites.

by chance, do you have a compilation of antithesis's best quotes or poetic tidbits you can share with us please?

and thank you, really ♡

So, I got this Ask a few days ago, and I’ve been sitting on it and looking at it constantly.

First- no. The number of messages never EVER take away from the meaning behind them. I could receive four messages, or four hundred, and I treasure each and every one. You are an individual with completely unique experiences and views. You deserve to be treated with kindness and respect, not thrown into a list of messages from nameless people.

Reading the story isn’t easy for some people. It’s all a matter of perspective, and how we can connect with it and how we can hurt from it. I am so proud of you for finishing it, and finding meaning at the end.

There are...sections? Of the story that I am incredibly proud of. Pointing out quotes from memory is impossible based on the insane length of the fic.

So I tried to find individual portions that meant a lot to me, as an author and writer. I have a style of writing that I started to refine much further in the story, which appears often in the end. Surrealism and lyrical twist that is more akin to poetry than standard literature. Those lines are the ones I’m most proud of.

A few more popular quotes are those I still enjoy.

Truth be told, moments I actually enjoy appear in the middle and towards the end.

Ch. 36: "I could have been raised to kill Potter." Adrian tried again, desperate in his attempt to scare the man.

"You could have been," Remus agreed, with the faintest glimmer of sympathy, "And if you were, I would give you freedom to live away from expectations or requirements. I would give you an opportunity to follow what you want to do, and not what you were raised to do."

"It wasn't your fault Adrian," He repeated carefully, "and I'll tell you that every day for however long it takes for you to realize that. You weren't abandoned because of who you are. It wasn't your fault."

Ch. 37: He had never thought of her as someone with individual dreams and desires, an individual life that everyone would mourn and miss and remember.

She hadn't...she hadn't (or had she always been?) a person, in his eye. She was just an object, a possession of the wrong side…He had left her behind, left her lying in a pool of water too weak to stand or speak. He had turned his back on her and left her on the floor.

Ch. 38: The man's eyes were bulging, his hands were gasping against his torn and butchered chest.

"He is prey," Nagini simplified, "Prey are eaten."The man gasped something wetly, it sounded faintly like a plea.

What had he done. What had he done?

Ch. 40: "I know, I just...I do things on my own." Adrian paused, trying to elaborate but struggling with the words.

"Ah, I know how you feel." Remus smiled slightly, something nostalgic and yet so terribly pained, "We all have our own burdens to carry."

Ch. 40: Luna noticed, and she smiled something soft and sad."You know, I think you'd be a wonderful thestral.”

Ch. 44: She turned, opening her mouth and displaying saliva and venom soaked teeth, as long as dinner plates, "And do you, Cerastes, have anything to your name that make others cower? Or are you a hatchling child who dreams of prey far too large for his teeth."

"That's not true," Adrian shook his head in denial, knowing his face was flushing ugly with his anger. His scars itched and his eyes were burning and his nose was filled with disgusting snot.

"Are you crying?" Barty asked, sounding like he was going to burst out laughing, "as if the Dark Lord would find you useful!"

"Master," Lutain unhooked from Barty's leg, slithering across the distance, "Master that is not true,"

"It is," Adrian swallowed, a lump the size of a walnut was lodged in his throat.

Ch. 45: "That's why you wore this dress." he realized, speaking out loud as the epiphany struck him. "So people would stare at you. Instead of staring at me."

"People always stare at me," Luna offered dismissively, "I'm different and people don't like that. I think it scares them, like thestrals do."

Ch. 46: Luna smiled enchantingly, "Adrian you're good at spells."

"I'm really not," he automatically blurted.

Luna's eyes searched his, flickering from one back to the other, "Why are you arguing? Why do you think you're so...mediocre?"

"Because I am!" Adrian blurted, face feeling warm as he flushed against his will. Luna's spell faded out. She whispered it once more, squinting into his face as if looking for something in particular.

"I don't think you are," She confided, "I think you're brilliant."

Ch. 46: Adrian's throat moved three times as he nervously swallowed, "I...I'm not good enough n-"

"I'm afraid you're going to do something stupid for the approval of someone that doesn't matter."

Ch 50: "I tried, but the little demon went savage on Mundungus again, stabbed him with a fork and looked right happy with it." Sirius grimaced.

Ch. 50: "How was your summer?" Luna asked curiously. "You look terrible."

"You know, most times you're supposed to compliment me first." Adrian dryly commented, "It's wonderful to know you're so sweet."

Luna shrugged, "You look like something's eating you."

Ch. 50: Skylar's jaw flexed, twitching as he refused to look away from the window, "Cedric really...I saw Cedric die. I saw him die, and you saw someone die, right in front of you, years ago."

"I was young," Adrian swallowed, his throat felt dry, "I barely remember it."

Skylar gave a single bark of laughter, bitter and sharp, "You don't- you don't just...just forget about it."

"Yes you do." Adrian blurted, not even hearing the slightly pained whine in his voice.

Skylar looked haunted, "I...I remember his eyes. They...Merlin, his eyes."

"I don't think I'll ever forget it," Skylar admitted quietly, "What Cedric looked like. Laying there, on the grass. He, he was just...alive, and then… and then he wasn't."

"It wasn't your fault." Adrian spoke, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Ch. 54: “You’re not unlovable, silly.”

Ch. 56: “I could set this entire room on fire,” Adrian mused quietly. “I could burn this entire house down and kill you. burning people smell a lot like burning meat.”

Sirius realized, that he was afraid. He was quite afraid actually.

Ch 57.: Adrian stilled, pausing as if in thought. He looked at Remus with half lidded eyes, the yellow far too bright to be anything but alarming. "Do you like me, Remus?"

Remus felt as if he was mourning for the loss of something gone, which was impossible. Adrian was right there, but he felt so far away. He felt as if he had changed truly, as if something hideous had condemned him to something so foul, he had accepted it.

"Of course I do," Remus spoke, voice strained and distorted through his distress, "Adrian, you know I do. Why would you ever think I wouldn't?"

Ch. 58: "I thought I was insane." Adrian mused without much emotion, "Disturbed. Psycho. Spastic. Mad. Mental. Thick. Freak." Adrian's body twitched in a small spasm, "Loony." he practically hissed out.

Remus breathed through his nose carefully, "Who called that to you?"

"Nobody," Adrian murmured quietly, "Everyone. They think it, everyone does. Selwyn has a few screws loose. Selwyn is a freak."

Remus gently set aside the comb and scissors. He ignored the few scraps of hair, and instead slid forward slightly so that his weight was a nearby presence for Adrian.

"That isn't even my name," Adrian whined, shaking across his shoulders, "I- I just want to be good."

"You are good, Adrian." Remus assured him, "You're exceptional."

Ch. 60: "Oh I know," Adrian hummed back, carefree as if truly it was barely of importance, "my life is a tragedy. I think I hadn't cared to truly involve myself to my full capabilities. Now...now with a deadline, I think that It's time for me to step forward."

Ch 60.: "You love me," Adrian whined out like a dying animal. (Which, he supposed, he was).

Ch. 63: I know what it is like, to be unmade.I know what it is like, to be nothing.And through that, I know I am not.

Ch 64.: "I'm surprised you never noticed, in all honesty." Adrian mentioned with a wry smile, "after all, professor. I have my mother's eyes."

Ch 65.: For now, all Adrian had was himself.In the sweet smelling heather and deep earthy peat bogs out of sight, in the moonlit shadow of a moss covered mountain which towered over an isolated cobblestone road cut from the mountain itself; Adrian found peace.

Past Chapter 65...honestly, each chapter is filled with absolutely gorgeous one liners. I pulled out small quotes above that I found really stuck out to me, or had some sort of important meaning. It would be impossible to pull out every single quote, basically because it would take so much time.

What’s your favourite?

#antithesis #shadowed malice #harry potter fanfiction #oceanbreeze7 #adrian selwyn #man what a tragedy #ask me anything

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bitchin-beskar · 4 years

Text

The Internet is Forever Part 1

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: T (vague mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly described)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Once more, y’all have The Gay Guard gc to thank for this lovely crack. It’ll be in three parts, with this one focusing on Joe and Nicky, Part 2 will focus on Andy and Quynh, and Part 3 will focus on Booker and Nile. I’ve never actually streamed or posted videos on YouTube, so I apologize for any inaccuracies, but... this is crack, so... you should kind of be expecting that at this point.

Tags: @the-chaotic-virgo, @hi-short-for-hello, @immortalwarriors, @the-killer-queenie, @roses-are-red713, @acolorandafeeling, @bookersebastien, @fetchmeabook, @ikilledtheducks, and @goalkeepernerd I blame every single one of you for this cursed fic. They all contributed to this AU so they ALL get credit for encouraging me to write this.

Also @perropascal!!!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my works!

Please consider liking and reblogging! I love the feedback!

You know the saying, “The internet is forever?” It’s true. It’s incredibly difficult to remove anything once it’s posted on the internet. That’s why Copley had been able to find all the evidence of Andy, Joe, Nicky, Booker, and Quynh from over the years. No matter how hard they’d tried to scrub their backgrounds, a few things always fell through the cracks. And now, in the twenty-first century, with technology growing at an unprecedented rate, it was harder than ever to stay off the internet. When the team had hired Copley to cover their tracks and find them jobs, he’d known he was going to have his work cut out for him. Unfortunately, he’d never expected… this.

***

“Nile, can you come here for a moment, please?”

Nicky’s voice called out from the kitchen, and Nile got up from where she was perched on the couch, shutting her copy of Les Misérables–in the original French, mind you, Booker was trying to help her learn another language–and tucking it under her arm, walking down the hall and into the kitchen. She stopped, frowning in confusion as she took in the scene before her.

Nicky was standing at the kitchen counter, a plate of baklava on the countertop in front of him. The rest of the kitchen was a mess, dirty bowls and measuring cups filled the sink, and ingredients covered the counter. He had a webcam set up in front of him, along with a laptop, and Nile could see that he was streaming.

He looked up as she entered, smiling brightly. “Nile! Come, you must try this baklava!” He holds the plate out eagerly, and Nile steps forward cautiously, carefully taking one of the little squares.

“Why? What are you doing?” Nile asks, suspicious, as she inspects the piece of baklava, not convinced that Nicky hasn’t done something to it.

Nicky looks at her, hurt. “I just want you to try my baklava. I’m teaching the internet the proper way to make it, and I want you to tell them how it tastes!” He gestures to the live webcam. “I need you to be honest, tell me how it tastes, even if it’s bad.”

She gives him the look. She’s never once eaten something made by Nicky that didn’t taste absolutely amazing. As long as this isn’t a prank, she’s not sure there’s any way his baklava won’t taste divine. She takes a bite, and nearly moans at the taste. The buttery texture of the dough is perfectly complemented by the taste of walnuts, hazelnuts, and pistachios, and there’s a hint of orange citrus that just brings everything together.

“Well?”

Nicky’s looking at her, his eyes wide and expectant, waiting for her to give a review. “It’s amazing Nicky, seriously,” she says, grinning as Nicky beams at her. “It’s the best baklava I’ve ever had. Try some!” Nicky picks up his own piece, taking a big bite, but before he can say anything, a voice floats over from the doorway.

“Yeah, but how much baklava have you had, really?”

Both Nicky and Nile turn to see Joe standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk on his face. “I mean, if you’ve only ever tasted his cooking, you don’t really have anything to compare it to, do you?”

Nicky growled–seriously, growled–under his breath, and Nile looked between the two, confused. She was so used to seeing them acting like they were still in their honeymoon phase that seeing this other side of both of them threw her for a loop. She backed away from the couple, glancing at Nicky’s laptop, seeing that he was streaming to YouTube. She snorted when she read his channel name: BetterThanOliveGarden. She glanced at the live stream of comments and had to do a double-take. Based on what people were saying, apparently, Joe and Nicky had this online rivalry, and people kept debating their relationship, whether they were roommates, dating, or something else.

She watched as Nicky shoved the plate towards Joe. “How about you try my food before you critique it, Joe?” A sly smirk spread across Joe’s lips, and he took the plate, setting it down without taking any food off it. Instead, he strides forward, cupping Nicky’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply. Nile looks away awkwardly when Nicky moans, and she glances at the comments and sees that they’re going nuts.

People are screaming, keyboard mashing, and comments like: OHMYGOD WHAT, are popping up constantly. Nile grimaces at the webcam. She whispers to the camera, “You guys do know they’re married, right? They do this all. the. time.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder at the two men, still locked in an embrace. Joe has one hand clutching at Nicky’s hair and the other in the back pocket of his jeans, and Nicky’s got his arms thrown around Joe’s neck, both of them completely lost to the world.

The comments are still blowing up, and Nile isn’t sure if she should actually end the video or not. She shrugs, deciding to leave it going. What’s the worst that could happen?

***

Well, apparently, Nicky and Joe forgot about the live stream. Nile only found out when she went to go and find the video, only to see that it had been taken down due to “violating YouTube content policies.” She asked Joe about it.

“Well, you see, apparently it’s frowned upon when two people decide to show their love for one another–”

“You two started taking off each other’s clothes, didn’t you.”

“Yes. Yes, we did.”

“Please tell me the two of you left the kitchen before the pants came off?”

“Of course we did, we have enough self-control–”

“Andy came in and yelled at the two of you that you were about to do it in front of a live audience, didn’t she.”

“Um, well… yes.”

***

Nicky’s retaliation happened later that week. Joe apparently ran an art tutorial channel, where he did sketches, showing people how to draw anything from animals, to the human body, to landscape, to architecture. His channel was called ScrewMichelangelo, which had confused Nile until Joe had explained the man refused to stop flirting with Nicky, so Joe hated him. Nile was skeptical, until Joe pulled up an image of the statue David, pointing out all the similarities between the marble statue and Nicky.

Nile was shocked. She could see the resemblance and turned to Joe in shock. “Wait, Nicky posed for Michelangelo?”

Joe grumbled, frowning deeply. “No. I accidentally left my sketchbook in his workshop one day, and there were some sketches of Nicky inside. He used those for his inspiration. When I found out I…” Joe looked sheepish. “I was very upset. Nicky keeping me calm was the only reason Michelangelo survived my wrath.”

Nile grimaced. “Yeah, I can see why you’d be pissed.” Joe nodded, and he began to set up the webcam.

Joe had asked her to help him out, so Nile was once again in the video, this time posing for Joe so he could show people how to draw braids. She was still trying to get through Les Misérables–seriously, she hated french–and she’d lost track of time when she was startled by the door banging open. She looked up from her book, watching as Nicky strode determinedly into the room.

“This,” he said, coming up behind Joe and laying his hands against the sides of Joe’s neck. “Is for ruining my baklava video.”

He tipped Joe’s head back, pressing his lips against Joe’s harshly. Nile had learned from the last time. She got up, shut off the webcam, and left the room, shaking her head when the men didn’t even react when she shut the door loudly.

“Stupid horny immortal husbands.”

***

It had been a quiet week, and Nile was suspicious. Nicky and Joe had each ruined multiple of the other’s videos with intense make-out sessions, and Nile was surprised that they both hadn’t had their accounts banned from YouTube. Neither of them had done anything this week though, so Nile was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When she woke up one morning to a YouTube notification from Joe’s account, she actually groaned. She wasn’t sure she wanted to watch what they’d gotten up to, but she figured she should probably check.

Clicking on the video, she was surprised to see that she couldn’t actually see anything, because the video was pitch black. Suddenly, a soft light appeared, showing a shirtless Joe. He held a finger to his lips, giggling, before shining the light onto a sleeping Nicky next to him.

“Nicolo, destati.”

Nicky grumbled, trying to swat Joe’s camera away, but he missed. “Nicolo, habibi, destati.” Nicky groaned, rolling over and blinking up at Joe.

“Yusuf, what time is it?”

“Three am, habibi.”

“Why Yusuf?”

Nile can hear Joe giggling. “I wanted to show everyone what I get to see every night for the rest of our lives.”

Nicky’s face softened, and he reached a hand up, pulling Joe’s face down and into the frame, and into a kiss. Joe managed to hold the camera steady, somehow. When he finally pulled away, Nicky grabbed one of Joe’s hands, tugging him down so that Joe is spooning him and his arm is wrapped tightly around Nicky.

“You’ve got your video, amore, now let’s sleep, please.”

Joe says something, but it’s muffled as he sets the camera down. The light turns off, and Nile thinks the video must be over, but when she checks, she realizes there are still hours of footage left. She fast forwards, and once the room starts to brighten, Nile realizes it must be morning. She sees as Nicky and Joe come into view, still spooning on the bed. She watches as Nicky wakes, and sees the camera still running before he reaches out to shut it off.

She shakes her head, shutting the phone off. Maybe now they’d stop ruining each other’s videos and she wouldn’t have to listen to their complaints anymore.

***

Well, Joe and Nicky had stopped bothering her. But Andy and Quynh were a whole other story.

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kiarcheo · 4 years

Text

StepBother

'I’d say that we have to thank Mary for the suggestion.’ ‘I’d rather die.’ The disgust on Kat’s face makes Cathy chuckle.

AKA

The one where Kat and Mary have an interesting relationship and Parrward get together.

A/N: Mary’s portrait in this fic is positive and totally ignores her doings as a queen but if it bothers you, you can skip to the Parrward part starting with Kat waiting at the cinema: Mary is mentioned but I think you can understand what is going on without having read the first part of the fic.

With that out of the way…I’m not sure exactly what this is or where it came from, but it started with 500 words of Mary&Kat banter (actually I know where that part came from, from Hidden Stories and their dynamic in the last chapter) and then ofc Parrward had to get involved and it got out of hand and now I have almost 4000 words??

This is 1/4 Mary&Kat and 3/4 Parrward, I guess. Also can read on Ao3 as usual.

When you’re a 16th-century queen living in the 21st century, things are bound to be confusing. From language to social conventions, the changes are endless, without even talking about the technological progress. Motion sensor technology, from bells ringing when you step into a shop to doors opening themselves, still catches them by surprise, especially when things start to move or turn off and on without any prompt.

Home is an oasis of familiarity and certainty, if they don’t dwell on why they and their children had been brought back, how, or even simpler questions like why they came back aged as they had. The order from older to younger goes: Catalina, Anna, Jane, Anne, Cathy, Kat. They had tried to figure it out, of course. Was it according to their original date of birth? No, because then Anne would have been the second oldest one. Was it according to their age when they died? No, because Jane would have been younger than Anne and Cathy. Their age at the time of their marriage to Henry? Catalina and Anna, at 24 and 25, had been the youngest besides Kat, so that made no sense either. The length of their reign? Pitiful as most of them had been, Cathy and Anne would have followed Catalina. The kids at least had come back in the order of their birth: Mary is still the oldest, followed by Elizabeth, Edward, and then toddler Mae. Everyone came back younger, with the notable exceptions of Katherine and Mae who returned at the same age they were when they died. Perhaps it was possible to make them younger but not older than they had ever been in their first lives?

Just small questions to ignore, right? But once they decided that their return was the work of an inscrutable higher power and they learnt how to use modern appliances, with their shared past, knowledge and experiences, home became an oasis of familiarity and certainty in a new, confusing world.

Except for one thing. Which was actually one of most baffling matters the queens had encountered… and that they kept seeing, right in the house they shared: the relationship between Katherine Howard and Mary Tudor.

According to history books, that should have been Katherine’s most fraught relationship: unlike the first three queens, she didn’t have any issue with her predecessors or successor, Elizabeth and Edward had fond memories of her, and she had never even met little Mae. And if age had been a sore point between them – for Mary at least, who had been displeased at her father marrying someone several years younger than herself – them returning pretty much at the same age, seemed a recipe for disaster.

With time, most animosity among the queens had been squelched and scores had been settled, and the idea of them all living together had been put forward. It took a while, but they finally managed to find a suitable house to everyone’s liking. Still, being cordial during an occasional meeting was different than living together. So the queens had expected, if not explosive confrontations, at least tense interactions between the youngest queen and the oldest ‘kid’. But they never came. Instead, as they all moved in together, they were witnesses to a dynamic that they struggled to fully understand, but that seemed to work well for the two girls.

****

‘I think we can all agree-’

‘That I’m the ten among you threes?’ Kat interrupts her.

Mary glares at her. ‘That my father was an asshole.’

‘That too.’

Catherine raises an eyebrow at what she hears as she enters the room. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘I didn’t really mean that, you know.’

‘Just curious. Trust me, not going to defend him.’ Nobody in their house would, and she thought Kat would know it.

‘No, I mean, you’re not a three. You’re totally a ten too.’

Catalina chuckles. ‘Aren’t you charming today?’

****

‘You’re lucky you got your mom’s looks.’

Cathy wonders if they realise she is the kitchen and if she should make her presence known. She doesn’t particularly wish to witness their flirting either.

‘Actually, my father was quite handsome in his youth.’

‘Wouldn’t know, he was like thrice my age and twice my size when I met him.’

‘Same.’ It slips out. Not really. She had been 31 when they got married and he had been twenty years her senior. But Cathy understands the sentiment.

Mary looks from Kat to Cathy, apparently not at all put out by her overhearing them. ‘Fair enough.’

****

‘No offence to Anne but divorcing your mother should have been a sign that something was wrong with him.’

Hearing her name, Anne starts to pay attention as Kat continues. ‘I would have never done it.’

‘What?’ Mary echoes Anne’s thoughts.

‘If I had been married to Catalina, I would have never divorced her. RIP Henry but I’m different.’

‘I don’t know what’s more disturbing. That you find my mom attractive or that you would have been my stepmother.’

Kat chuckles. ‘I am your stepmother.’

‘Stepbother, that’s what you are.’

****

‘Ehi, Mary, do you call your mom mami?’

‘No?’

‘Can I?’

Mary gives a saccharine smile to Jane, who is looking between her and Kat confused. ‘Jane, we’re going to need one less seat at the table today. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some murdering to do.’

***

‘Mary, Mary,’ Anna is ready to point out to Kat that there is no way Mary can hear her calling if she is whispering her name like that, when Kat yells. ‘MARY!’

‘You bellowed?

‘See? Call three times and she will appear; you don’t even need a mirror.’

‘I’m going to kill you.’

‘Not really helping your case.’

Anna chuckles. She doesn’t understand their relationship, but it certainly makes for some entertaining times.

***

The queens are in the living room when they hear the front door opening and the distinctive voices of Mary and Kat getting closer.

‘I said that objectively speaking.’

‘And then I’m going to tell her that you objectively think she is hot.’

‘Don’t you dare.’

‘Don’t be ashamed, Mary!’ Kat enters the living room, eyes on her phone. ‘Embrace the gay!’

She gets the wind knocked out of her by an unexpected hug. ‘What?’ Mary squeezes her more. ‘I’m doing as you said.’

‘Kat, are you gay?’

Everyone stops at Jane’s question.

‘Am I gay?’ Kat laughs. ‘I’m ecstatic!’

Mary can’t help to notice that Cathy is the only one chuckling at Kat’s quote.

So. Yes. If asked about Kat and Mary’s relationship, the consensus is that they seem to live to bother each other. Mary lording being older over Kat and Kat constantly reminding Mary that she was and still is her stepmother as her marriage to Henry had never been annulled. Mary threatening bodily harm and Kat mentioning how much she likes Catalina. It’s just harmless flirting and Catalina finds it amusing as much as Mary finds it annoying. She knows perfectly well that Kat hits on her mom just to rile her up…and it works every single time.

‘You know, for once, you could actually focus your attention on the Catherine you actually like…’ Mary says once her mother leaves the room, eyes not leaving the sketchbook on her lap.

‘What? I do like your mom. I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Sure you don’t.’ Mary rolls her eyes. ‘You should have been Catherine with a C.’

‘What? Why?’ Kat asks genuinely confused.

‘Then your name would have fit you better.’ She raises the sketchbook to show it to her. A blank page with a single word in capital letters: C(h)oward. ‘Since you’re a coward.’

Yet, for two people who loudly proclaim all the time that they cannot stand each other and whose contact name for the other is ‘stepbother’ (Mary claiming Kat had stolen it from her but it made no sense, Kat retorting that daughter and bother sound similar enough to make sense), they sure spend a lot of time together of their own volition.

That’s how Kat finds herself waiting outside the cinema for Mary. Who is late. Despite being the one who had wanted to see the movie – Kat still doesn’t know which one, but her and Mary have a similar enough taste that she usually trusts her choices – and had organised the outing. She looks at her phone again to check if Mary had replied to her text. Nothing. She doesn’t know why she even bothered to try since the phone didn’t buzz. She is slipping it back in her pocket when the awaited sound stops her. She opens the chat: Mary sent her the code of her ticket, telling her to start heading in. Seeing no reason for both to risk missing the movie, she does, but not before writing back that Mary better get some snacks when she arrives to make up for her lateness.

She easily finds her assigned seat. She sits down and looks at the ticket stub again to double check. Portrait of a lady on fire. She contemplates whether looking it up online. She has never heard of it, but the way the girl at the till had smiled at her while handing her the ticket made her feel like she is missing something.

‘Look who decided to show u-’ she greets the person who just sat down next to her. ‘Cathy?’

‘Kat? Hi!’ Cathy sounds as surprised as she is to see her there. ‘I didn’t know Mary had invited you too.’

‘Mary?’

‘Yeah, she told me to go ahead and get in without waiting for her. Why?’

Kat shakes her head lightly. ‘She told me the same.’ She takes her phone out, quickly opening their chat. Her fingers hover over the screen. Should she stick with the evergreen ‘I’m going to kill you’ (she should really make a shortcut for it) or be more creative and get into details of how she is going to make her pay?

‘I feel slightly out of place.’

Kat looks at Cathy, who just juts her chin and tilts her head slightly. ‘Take a look around yourself.’ She adds very quietly.

Lots of small groups of elderly women. Or elderly couples. Kat doesn’t turn around to check the rows behind her, but from what she can see they are the youngest people in the room. Perhaps that’s the usual audience for a mid-week afternoon show?

‘It’s so nice to see some new faces!’ Apparently they are not the only ones who took notice. A lady is smiling at them, holding out a pamphlet. ‘In case you’re interested in more.’

Cathy takes it, thanking her. It’s a list of foreign movies with the details of the screenings.

‘How is your French?’

Kat takes a moment to think about it. ‘Rusty?’

She has never been as good as Anne, for obvious reasons. They had retained their language skills from the past which left her (and Jane) at disadvantage compared to the others. With five languages each, Cathy and Catalina are the polyglot queens, with the three older kids on par with them. It is actually a point of pride for the queens. They might be lacking some common general knowledge, but their household can speak English, French, German, Spanish, Italian and Greek, even if some slightly antiquate forms of them at times.

Kat knows that she will never be the most well-versed in languages in their group, but it doesn’t mean she is not going to take advantage of her multi-lingual family and learn as much as she can. But lately she might have been neglecting French a bit to focus on learning Spanish. Admittedly it had started as a way to annoy Mary by talking with Catalina in what Mary considered ‘their own private language’, despite most people at the house speaking it. But then it became the gateway for a better relationship with the first queen, replacing the cordial but distant one they had before.

Anne and Jane were family and family had been everything in the past, despite how crappy she had been treated by her own blood. She still values it above most things, so it gave her an instant connection to them, despite past experiences…or perhaps thanks to them. Surprise, surprise, their extended family had not been much nicer to her cousins than they had been to her, so there was bonding over terrible families. Anna was a friendly face from the past and they almost seamlessly picked up from where they had left. And Cathy…they had an immediate and quick connection. At first it was because they were the youngest queens in this new life and also the ones who could relate the most to each other about their past one. They had to put up with the same Henry. Anna’s married experience had been short before moving onto a cordial if not friendly relationship as the ‘King’s sister’ (and besides, Kat knew she still harboured guilty feelings about her divorce opening the way for Kat’s marriage and consequent death, so she tried to avoid the topic). Jane had supposedly been ‘the only one he truly loved’. And Catalina and Anne had known a younger Henry who was, apparently, quite a different man from the one the last two queens had been saddled with.

All in all, Catalina had been the queen Kat had struggled the most to connect with, and learning Spanish helped. But not in this occasion, with a French movie about to start.

‘It should have subtitles, right?’

The credits end. The lights come up. They remain seated. Most of the audience does, almost if shell-shocked by the movie that just ended. Cathy nudges Kat’s elbow lightly, offering a tissue. Usually Kat would make a joke about her being such a mom (she has taken care of Mae enough to know that you can never be overprepared with a toddler), but she wordlessly accepts it. They both dry their eyes.

‘I think,’ Kat croaks out, ‘this is the best movie I’ve ever seen.’

She is not an expert cinephile, it goes without saying; none of them are. But they did look for lists of iconic movies and watched them. While their usual excuse of having grown up without a tv works relatively well when they need to explain their lack of pop culture knowledge, nobody likes to feel always left out. They still have movie family nights, usually with a ‘must-watch’ title, but by now everyone just watches what they like. In Kat’s case, she tends to stick to ‘light’ movies. She doesn’t care if it’s fantasy, comedy, action, animated…she just doesn’t want to be scared or cry too much. But sometimes the crying is worth it.

‘Yeah.’ Cathy agrees. It seems like she has been left speechless too.

Both lost in their thoughts, no words are exchanged until they are out of the cinema.

‘Want to go and eat something?’

‘What about Mae?’

Cathy smiles at Kat’s thoughtfulness. ‘Everyone but us is home.’ Perks of living all together. Built-in babysitter service basically 24/7 in case of need. ‘And Jane said that even if the others go out, she will stay.’

As they sit at a Chinese restaurant nearby, the conversation returns to the movie.

‘I mean, I wished the ending was different, you know? Happy. With them together. But…the more I think, the more I understand it, I think.’ Kat says, twirling her noodles with her fork, using chopsticks a skill she has yet to master properly. ‘I get it. Marriage being unescapable. Men intruding in women’s spaces and lives ruining everything…’

‘Oh?’

‘Not like that.’ She realises what Cathy thought she was implying. ‘Just…the happiest period of my life had been the first months as Anna’s maid of honour. Just being around her and the other ladies. And then of course Henry had to ruin everything…’ Kat shakes her head as to dispel the thought. ‘What about you?’

‘I think I still need sometime to fully process the movie. But I’d say that we have to thank Mary for the suggestion.’

‘I’d rather die.’ The disgust on Kat’s face makes Cathy chuckle. ‘How did that happen, anyway?’ She has never seen Mary and Cathy spend any significant amount of time together.

‘She texted me, something about wanting to taste,’ Kat starts choking, ‘which I assume was meant to be test, the waters. We’re not as close as the others, so I thought spending time together could be good…You okay?’

Kat, still coughing, waves her concern away. ‘Just a bit too spicy.’

‘Yeah, you look flushed.’

‘I’ll pop to the loo and splash some water on my face,’ she rasps out, standing up.

Cathy follows her with her eyes, making sure that she is okay, until she disappears behind the toilet door. Then she grabs the menu, wanting to check the desserts. Her eyes fall onto the noodles section and…Kat’s dish has no red chili pepper next to it.

A vibration distracts her from her thoughts. She immediately checks her phone in case the call is about Mae, before realising it comes from Kat’s phone, ‘Stepbother’ flashing on the screen. The vibrating stops. Then starts again, this time shorter ones. Instinctively she looks at it.

A notification pops up.

* Don’t be a K(h)oward like usual *

Others follow in quick succession.

* Tell her *

* You’re not going to like the next step of my plan *

* I will get you two together *

* So you stop hitting on my mom *

* Not because I want you to be happy *

* Ofc *

‘So…going back to Mary,’ Cathy starts once Kat is back. ‘Do you think she did it on purpose?’

Kat looks intently at the menu, shrugging.

‘Because that would be…going to some length.’ She continues. ‘Organising. Getting two separate tickets but for seats next to each other. Paying for them…Any idea why?’

Kat sighs. ‘Any chance you’re letting this go?’

‘Any chance Mary is going to let this go?’

Kat puts her elbows on the table, closed fists against her forehead. A groan is all Cathy gets.

‘I’m sure it’s not that bad.’

Kat rubs her eyes in frustration. Cathy is starting to think she won’t get a reply when the younger girl straightens up in her chair.

She takes a visibly deep breath and rushes out ‘She has been pushing me to ask you out for…’ she hesitates, ‘some time.’

‘How long if she had decided to take matters in her hands?’ She is teasing but also genuinely curious.

‘Not like she is known for her patience.’ Kat grumbles. Looking at Cathy she can see that she is not convinced, but she is thankful that she seems to let it go. And smiling. ‘You’re not upset?’

‘Why don’t we continue this outside?’ Cathy nods towards the exit. ‘But no,’ she adds before Kat could misinterpret it. ‘I’m not upset.’

As they go towards the till to pay, Cathy tries to order her thoughts. That was not what she had been expecting from today. Kat was interested in her. It’s not like she had never thought about it. They get along very well. Besides her godmother, Kat is the queen she feels the closest too. She is great with Mae. And she is undeniably beautiful.

‘What are thinking?’

Cathy has not even realised they had left the restaurant. ‘Wait! I didn’t pay!’ She makes to go back inside but Kat grabs her arm.

‘I took care of it.’ Kat shrugs. ‘You were clearly out of it and it’s my fault.’ She jams her hands in her pockets, eyes downcast.

‘None of that,’ she bumps against her hip, trying to get a smile. ‘I was just surprised.’

Kat peeks at her, cautiously hopeful.

‘I didn’t think you liked me. As more than a friend.’ Cathy specifies before Kat can say anything in that regard. ‘Well, maybe sometimes? But I sort of convinced myself that it was wishful thinking.’

Kat stops walking at that. ‘What?’ She hurries to catch up with Cathy.

‘I thought you and Mary…’

‘Eww. She is like…was going to say sister but that would make it really weird to hit on her mom.’

‘That’s the other thing.’

‘You didn’t really think I fancied Catalina, did you? I mean, she is a beautiful woman, but it has always been about annoying Mary.’

‘I really don’t get your relationship.’

Kat just shrugs. She is used to hearing that.

‘Hey! I know you!’ a loud voice interrupts them. ‘This a step-daughter too?’ The man takes a step closer to Kat.

Cathy doesn’t know what possesses her, but she puts her arm around Kat’s waist. ‘Actually I’m her girlfriend and we’re on a date.’

‘Is that so?’ The man looks between them.

‘Yes.’ Kat puts her arm around Cathy’s shoulder and Cathy snuggles into her side.

‘Freaks.’

‘What?’ Cathy tries to take step forward.

‘Don’t.’ Kat grasps her closer to her, keeping her still as the man walks away. ‘It’s not that.’

‘Then what was that?’ It clearly looked like that to Cathy.

‘So…sometimes when me and Mary are out, guys hit on us. Best way to shake them off? Even better than saying we’re girlfriends, since some dudes takes it as an invitation to ask for a threesome? Saying that I’m her stepmother. It tends to weird them out or at least throw them off long enough that we can get away.’

Cathy thinks about it. Mary and Kat are quite close in age and they look like it, so she can see what it would surprise people. ‘Wait…did he think…’

‘That you are Mary’s mom? That or that we’re in some role-play stuff, I guess. That’s why I stopped you from trying to beat him up.’ Kat chuckles at the idea of Cathy, who is even shorter than her, although not by much, squaring up with that guy. ‘It was not because of the gay thing. Also from the smell, he was not exactly sober. I didn’t want you to get hurt.’

‘Awww.’ Cathy coos softly. ‘Still can’t believe you and Mary do that.’

‘Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like something weird.’ Kat steps away, dropping her arm from around Cathy’s shoulder. They both immediately regret the move. ‘Besides it’s the truth. I didn’t lie.’

‘Wouldn’t want to make a liar out of you now, then.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Maybe we could make this a real date? We went to movie. We had dinner…’

‘Yes!’ Kat shouts enthusiastically. ‘Wait! No!’

‘What??’

‘We’re not going to have a first date organised by Mary.’ Cathy relaxes at Kat’s explanation. ‘She’s going to be unsufferable. What about tomorrow? Oh, wait. Creative writing class. Uhm…when do you prefer? I’m sure we could find someone to look after Mae.’

‘What about Wednesday?’

‘Oh, Pasta day at The Tucan! If you’d like it, I mean.’

‘It’s a date.’

They stare at each other smiling until a couple of tipsy girls walk into them.

‘Home?’

‘Yeah.’

They walk side by side, hands brushing against each other. Kat glances down after her hand knocks against Cathy’s harder than usual. ‘Can I…’ she extends her fingers, now lightly tickling the back of Cathy’s hand.

Cathy turns her hand over and takes Kat’s without saying a word. As they keep walking, she twists her hand a bit and entwines their fingers.

‘What?’ Cathy asks with a smile after hearing Kat giggling.

‘It’s just unreal.’ Kat looks at her, beaming with a giddy expression plastered on her face.

‘What? That we watched a breath-taking movie, had dinner together, agreed on a date and we’re now going back home together and all because we were set up by our shared stepdaughter?’

‘I was more thinking about holding your hand and you liking me back, but that too.’

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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years

Text

Holographic Sand is a Kickass Band Name

pairing: peter maximoff/OC(graciella decuerpo) (high school AU/not canon)

summary: peter learns that a fuckton can change in the course of a week

warnings: none? bad language and peter is simp but thats it

notes **please read**: Heyyyyy how are you doing? good? that’s great. so ik this fic is a peter/oc fic, but honesty i only use her name a few times and a few defining features but like. thats it. so you can totally just imagine urself in her position. also this fic is 5,550 words exactly. that’s the most ive ever written and I am SUPER fucking proud. I think i might become one of those blogs where i write super huge monster fics that im proud of instead of just writing to fill requests.if u dont want that then just lmk and i will not do that. i dont know. maybe. also this fic is peter centric because uh it is. anyways enjoy <3

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @simonsbluee

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Monday

Peter sat across the room, his arms crossed neatly on top of his knees as he rested his chin on his forearm. He wasn’t paying attention to the lesson being taught in front of him, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again. Peter’s mind was a chaotic minefield of music and cheesy one-liners and random facts that he seems to just know. But this time, he wasn’t envisioning himself beating up a police officer or playing with Pink Floyd. This time, he was picturing a perfect world where nothing ever happened yet nothing was ever boring. Peter had built a utopia in his mind-- a kingdom created to his exact preferences. A blissful tower of joy and happiness and energy and satisfaction. A paradise where he stood on top of the world with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, standing right next to him.

Now, Peter was well aware that the pretty girl from algebra class had no idea who Peter was. The pair had never exchanged more than a few words, but somewhere within those few words, Peter managed to decide that she was his soulmate. He’d created an image of her in his head that would make God weep tears of envy, the perfect personality for the perfect person. Peter willfully ignored the fact that he was setting himself up for heartbreak as he imagined how nice it would feel to have her fingers intertwined with his.

All of Peter’s friends thought he was ridiculous, ‘you can’t love someone you don’t know,’ they’d say. Peter would only scoff and shake away their words. He absolutely can love someone he doesn’t know, it’s getting the other person to reciprocate those feelings that’s nearly impossible. However, that doesn’t stop him from fantasizing at night. That doesn’t stop him from imagining the various ways he’d confess his love to the pretty girl who doesn’t love him. Or maybe she does. Peter doesn’t know, he could never know; unless, of course, he worked up the courage to talk to her.

Scott constantly teased Peter about his one-sided infatuation, but Peter paid no mind to him. He was 100% content with his perpetual pining for someone who probably didn’t know his name. He was totally okay with the unending ache in his chest that would appear any time she walked by or met his gaze. Peter was alright with his ceaseless yearning and the eternal feeling of disappointment that overtook him every time he snapped out of one of his fantasies. He was a-okay with all of that.

So, there he was, spacing out during biology class as Professor Hargreeves struggles to teach the silver teen about photosynthesis. The Professor looked at Peter with desperate eyes, soon deciding that having his usually energetic student be quiet and still was the silver lining of the situation-- no pun intended. Professor Hargreeves droned on as Peter glanced at the clock, counting down the minutes until 7th period. Counting the seconds until he got to see the pretty girl in algebra class once again.

Tuesday

6th period was always the worst part of Peter’s day-- the dreaded english class. There were many contributing factors to Peter’s hatred for this class; the professor was a bore, the material itself was uninteresting, and Peter could never seem to sit still or retain any of the words he read in english class. Worst of all, english class seemed to go on forever, leaving Peter to impatiently wait for the bell to ring and release him to 7th period. At the end of the period every day, he was practically vibrating in his seat.

“Can anyone tell me what Juliet’s suicide is supposed to symbolize?” the Professor asked expectantly. Peter couldn’t care less about the symbolism of some chick’s suicide-- he’d much rather be studying the features of his algebra class infatuation.

She sat next to him yesterday. There were at least 5 other open seats and she sat next to him. Yes, Peter read too much into it and yes, Peter spent the entire class period trying to make himself seem naturally cool, but he didn’t care. Peter would act like the most desperate, pathetic, lovestruck loser in the world if it meant that she would like him. They didn’t talk, they didn’t exchange a single word, nevertheless, Peter was in a state of euphoria for the entire class period.

Sometimes Peter feels like a stalker. He watches her whenever he can-- he doesn’t follow her around or anything, but if she’s around, he’ll stare at her. He has her features memorized, the curve of her nose, the dark brown irises surrounding her pupils, the way that she always seems to have chipped black nail polish on. He sees the small things. He sees the way she bites her nails when he gets bored and he sees the way her leg never seems to stop bouncing. She hums the basslines to songs as opposed to the melody.

English class came to an abrupt end as the bell cut off the Professor’s teachings as well as Peter’s distant daydreaming. Peter was out of his seat within seconds, his notes and books quickly being swept up in his arms as he walked out of the room. The hallways are crowded and chaotic and busy, each individual student attempting to get to their locker then to their class on time. Peter watches as kids swing their lockers open, fatigue and weariness apparent on their faces as they disappear into their classrooms. Peter reaches his locker hastily, the few small posters of classic rocks bands adorning the inside of his locker door. A playful giddiness overcame his body as he made his way to algebra class, a small smile left on his face.

Graciella shows up across the hallway, her bright red hair catching his eye in a sea of brown and blonde and blue. His stomach flutters as they get closer and closer to each other, finally meeting outside of the classroom. Her eyes rise to meet Peter’s, and instead of pulling away, Peter keeps looking. She smiles at him before disappearing inside the classroom, and Peter felt his knees get weak. With a deep breath and a triumphant smile, he walked into the classroom.

Wednesday

Lunchtime; possibly one of the most enjoyable parts of Peter’s school day. Peter is free to kick back and stuff his face full of whatever junk the school board deems nutritious enough for highschoolers. Usually, he ate lunch under the bleachers with his friends, but in some sick twist of fate most of them were absent. So, Peter was left to eat alone in his usual spot.

The quiet was comfortable, refreshing. The gentle summer breeze would blow every few minutes and Peter would listen to the rustle of the leaves. There’s a certain tranquility to being alone; Peter can lay back and relax and just… think. No stress, no panicking, no--

“Hey, uh, Peter, right?” Peter’s eyes snap up so fast he’s afraid they would detach from his head and fall out. His breath faltered and his hands began to shake a bit-- why was he so freaked out? She was just a girl; sure, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen, and yeah, he was madly in love with her, but that’s besides the point.

“Uh-- uh, yeah, P-Peter. That’s, uh, that’s me,” He chuckled awkwardly, desperately trying to stay cool. Peter was an awkward person, but he’d rather die than fuck up his chances with Grace.

“You dropped this on your way out of class yesterday, I, uhm, didn’t get to return it to you until now,” She holds out a small key chain with three small keys hanging off of it-- Peter’s house keys, along with the key to his mother’s car. He quickly takes the key chain from the red-haired girl in front of him.

“Holy shit, uh, thanks! I couldn’t get into my house yesterday so I guess you saved me from another broken window,” Peter held up his hand and showcased the scattered pattern of small cuts on his palm. Grace laughed lightly before gently running her fingers over the cuts on Peter’s palm.

“Oh fuck, dude, these look pretty bad. Maybe keep a spare key hidden under your welcome mat or something,” Peter doesn’t fully process Grace’s words; he’s too preoccupied with trying not to collapse at the feeling of her fingertips on his palm.

“Hey, you okay? You look… pale,” Grace pressed the back of her hand on Peter’s forehead in an attempt to check for illness, but that just made Peter’s skin erupt in goosebumps.

“I, um, I’m fine. I’m just st-stressed about the algebra t-test on Friday, I th-think,” To be fair, Peter was stressed about the algebra test. Peter may or may not have spent the entire class staring at Grace instead of, you know, learning the material.

“Oh! Well, if you want, I can help you study. I’m also kinda worried about it, and I study better with other people,” Peter silently thanked god for what was happening to him.

“That would be fuckin’ fantastic,” Grace smiled a smile that made Peter shiver.

“Cool! Uh, I’ll give you my phone number and we’ll meet up tomorrow. One day isn’t much time to study, but it’s better than nothing.” She pulls a pen out of her backpack and rips a small piece of paper out of one of her notebooks. Peter watches as she scribbles down her phone number and hands the paper to him.

“Thanks. For everything, the keys, the studying-- everything.” Grace smiled.

“It’s no problem, Peter, really. I’ll call you later,” And just like that, she walked away. Peter was left alone under the bleachers, a wide smile plastered on his face as he read the piece of paper in his hands over and over and over again.

Thursday

30 minutes. 30 minutes until Grace Reaper DeCuerpo, the prettiest, nicest, funniest girl Peter had ever met would show up on his doorstep. She would be inside his house for god knows how long. She would sit next to Peter-- either on the coffee table in the basement or on the floor of his bedroom. Needless to say, Peter was freaking the fuck out.

The plan was simple: Grace shows up, they study, they get comfortable, and she goes home. Yet, in those four simple steps, so much could go wrong. Wanda could interrupt, his mother could lose her temper, Lorena could start crying-- worst of all, Peter could embarrass himself and drive her away.

Peter was in the middle of reorganizing his record collection for a third time when he heard a knock at the door. His blood went cold and an electric excitement ran through his veins. Peter checked his hair in the mirror one last time before running to the door. He stood silently, staring at the chrome handle hesitantly. This was his one chance. His only chance to make his perfect kingdom real-- Peter really, really, really didn't want to fuck it up. With a deep breath, he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, Peter!" Her voice was smooth and melodic and it made Peter's heart light up. He’s about to respond with something smooth and witty when a squeaky voice chirps behind him.

“Hi!! Are you the pretty girl Peter talks about?” Peter can physically feel his face turn bright red as he turns to see his six-year-old sister, Lorena, standing behind him. She’s wearing a purple princess dress that has a syrup stain on the sleeve. Grace laughs before stepping through the doorway.

“Lorena!” Peter groans in annoyance, a pleading look on his face. The young girl just giggles before scurrying away, her dress flowing behind her.

“‘The pretty girl Peter talks about’, huh?” Grace grins at Peter cheekily. Peter runs his hand through his hair before motioning to the staircase.

“God, Lorna is quite the kid. Well, uh, we can work in my room,” He sighs. “And Grace? Uh, m-maybe don’t let Lorena change your opinion of me,” She just smirks before walking past Peter.

“Too late,” She called before disappearing down the stairs. Peter could hear the faintest trace of a smile in her voice. His heart skipped a beat as he quickly followed after her.

She was wearing a Pink Floyd t-shirt and holding a backpack with various pins on it-- her left ear was pierced in three places and her right in five. The earrings she was wearing were black, or maybe grey; her bright red hair blocked Peter’s view of them. She was wearing rings, some odd words engraved in the metal. Peter couldn’t read them from where he was standing. She was wearing a skirt with fishnets, her hand buried in the pockets that seem to have been sewn in herself. She has callouses on both her hands, but Peter knew that already. Her appearance would put Aphrodite to shame-- suddenly, Peter was much less confident in himself than he was before. He ran his hand through his hair again before reaching the basement.

He held his breath as Grace looked around his room, her gaze lingering on the plethora of stolen signs and band posters covering the walls. She placed her backpack on the floor and walked over to Peter’s record collection, her fingers carefully flitting through the different albums. She seemed… impressed. It was then that Peter realized it had been silent for much too long.

“Y’know I can, uh, p-play some music if you want me to. You can just pick a record and, uh, I’ll... play it,” Peter winced at his words, cursing himself for being so awkward in front of the girl he’d been pining after since the beginning of the year. He felt like everything had spiraled out of control, and he watched idly as it happened. Then, Grace shot him a smile and pulled out a record.

“You have a good taste in music, Silver,” No one had ever called Peter ‘silver’ before. He liked it a bit more than he should. “Although, that’s not really a surprise. I had a feeling you were cool.”

“You think I’m cool?” Peter asked, shocked. He wasn’t sure he heard her correctly.

“Oh, totally. I see you in the hallways sometimes and you always seem so… carefree. Genuine. I don’t know, I guess it’s just… you, ya know? You’re naturally cool.” Every syllable that rolled off her tongue shot euphoria through Peter’s veins. Grace DeCuerpo, the girl Peter Maximoff had dreamed of for almost a full year, was telling him that she thought he was cool. Naturally cool.

“I know a lot of people who would disagree with you on that one,” Peter joked. There was truth behind his humor, but of course, he didn’t want to get into his insecurities now. “They think I’m a total loser, which isn’t totally wrong I guess.”

“Well those people are stupid,” She stated matter-of-factly with a smile. “Speaking of stupid, we should probably get to work.” Peter nodded before sitting beside her on the floor.

For three hours they poured over their algebra books. They quizzed each other and checked each other’s work; Peter’s proficiency in simplifying radicals aiding them both. Every now and then their hands would brush against each other, or the conversation would stray away from school and into their personal lives. Peter learned that Grace had two brothers, one of which passed away when she was younger. Peter talked about Lorena and Wanda and his miraculous abilities in the same way that she talked about her hometown and her own abilities. The conversation was smooth and natural-- Peter didn’t feel like he was being too annoying or too chatty and there was seldom an awkward pause. The pair were content in their time together, not a single moment went by where one wished the other would leave.

Eventually, Grace had to go home. Peter wished that she could stay forever, but of course, that would be considered kidnapping. He walked her to the door, although Peter didn’t feel like he was walking. He felt like he was floating.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Silver,” Grace said softly as she turned to face Peter. She looked him in the eye and he could feel his stomach flutter.

“Yeah, I guess so,” She opened the door, but before she left, she froze. She turned to look at Peter once again.

“Peter?” she said. “You’re not a loser.”

Friday

Peter could tell the second he walked through the front door of his high school that something had changed. The energy that radiated in the halls shifted from a dull buzz of boredom to a rush of anticipation. The students in the hallway looked the same as always; tired and anxious and wishing for the day to go by quickly. However, Peter wasn’t wishing for the end of the day, and he certainly wasn’t tired. He was determined and energized and absolutely terrified, because that morning Peter Maximoff made the most important decision a seventeen-year-old could. He decided that he was going to ask Grace out on a date.

Peter made the choice to keep this from his friends-- it’s not that he didn’t trust them, it’s just that Peter knew he would be teased for his infatuation. It’s happened before and it will happen again. He walked down the hallways with a brave face on, his eyes forward and his heart racing. Truthfully, the silver teenager was terrified of… well, everything. The looming image of a harsh rejection forced itself into his mind; the idea that she would laugh in his face made his heart break a tiny bit, even though it wasn’t real. Peter simply shook those images away and walked on.

The day flew by much faster than Peter was comfortable with, and for the first time ever, he was dreading algebra class. He was terrified that he would walk through the door and have everything be exactly the same-- he feared that Grace would go back to not knowing who he was, just like before. Peter was alright with never being her boyfriend, but he didn’t want to be a stranger. He didn’t think he could take being a stranger anymore.

So, there he stood, staring at the door to his algebra classroom from across the hall. He felt confident and prepared himself for the task at hand. In four long strides, he entered the classroom. Grace was sitting next to an empty desk, her eyes stuck on the small notebook full of doodles on her desk. Peter watched as her eyes raised to meet his, a wide smile forming on her face as she motioned him over.

“Hey, silver! I saved a seat for ya,” she called, and Peter felt his knees get weak. He then decided that he would wait until after class to ask her out.

“You did?”

“Of course,” She grinned. “I like you, dude, you’re my friend,” Peter’s heart fluttered as he sat down beside her. Grace shot an odd look his way before reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “Hey, you look stressed. Don’t sweat it, silver, you’ll do fine. We studied for, like, 3 hours yesterday. You’re gonna ace it,”

To be frank, Peter had forgotten all about the test. The real reason he looked so stressed was because he happened to be sitting next to the love of his life, and the love of his life happened to be touching his arm.

“O-oh! Uh, yeah, thanks. I was just nervous because of… the test,” The bell rang and class began, the professor strictly laying down the rules that were to be followed while the test was in session. Peter could feel the lingering touch of her hand on his skin. It made his head feel fuzzy.

Peter soon came to learn that sitting next to Grace during a test was a huge mistake. He couldn’t focus on anything other than her-- it didn’t help that she kept shooting him glances from where she sat. The numbers and letters on the paper in front of him seemed to rearrange before his eyes, instead spelling out various taunts. He feels a little pathetic for how easily Grace can unravel him, but hey, he’s a teenager.

The silver-haired boy’s eyes were struggling to decipher the words on his page when a small folded square landed on his desk. It came from Grace’s direction, and a small smirk had formed on her lips as she solved equations. Hesitantly, he unfolded the paper and read the neatly written message.

Hey silver :)

Peter smiled softly. He quickly pulled a pad of post-it notes out of his backpack and scribbled down a quick reply.

I have no idea what I’m doing. I think Professor Stedman decided to write our tests in hieroglyphics this time.

He flicked the note onto her desk and quickly turned his face downward. Class would be over soon, and Peter knew he couldn’t turn in a blank test. He uses his enhanced speed to do his assessment in seconds. Sure, he was almost certain he’d barely reach a passing grade, but hey, he had bigger matters to focus on. By the time he finished, another note landed on his desk.

That bad, huh? Looks like we better study longer next time.

Peter’s heart swelled a bit. He really thought the study sessions were a one-time thing. He’s overjoyed to know he’ll get to see Grace semi-regularly, even if he never manages to ask her out.

I think I’d rather hang out with you without the looming threat of schoolwork.

That’s the closest Peter could get to asking her out. He put deep thought into every word, he examined the phrasing and checked the spelling of every word. His english teacher would be proud.

That can be arranged ;)

Peter had no idea that four words could make him feel so much. He had no idea that 17 letters could make him want to scream in the middle of a silent testing period. His hand was shaking and his careful planning was abandoned as he scribbled back a reply.

Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?

Patiently, he waited. He waited for Grace to finish writing her response and he waited for her to toss the note back over. He didn’t wait for more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours. He was panicking, and he was sure she could tell. She was probably joking, right? She was probably writing an awkward clarification-- she was probably explaining that she would actually rather die than be around him for non-academic reasons. He braced himself as the yellow post-it landed on the center of his desk.

My aunt owns a drive-in a few miles from here and she gave me keys to the projector room and the gate. She managed to snag a copy of The Exorcist-- I thought you’d like to join me during my midnight escapade tomorrow night.

Peter’s heart stopped. For a moment, he thought his eyes were fooling him. Maybe this was all some sick joke. Maybe he was being set up. Maybe he’ll get in her car tomorrow and she’ll drive him into the woods and murder him. To be completely honest, Peter wouldn’t mind if she murdered him. Peter wrote his reply.

Really? You want me there? I might be a drag. You could probably find at least 20 other people who would probably be more interesting than me.

Grace frowned at his response, and suddenly Peter decided he never wanted to see her frown again. She wrote confidently, her words solid and sure.

You? A drag? Impossible. I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want to be with anyone other than you, Maximoff.

This note was his undoing. He couldn’t help himself, he read it over and over and over again-- he almost forgot to respond. He wanted to hold onto it forever, he wanted it to be framed and hung on his wall. Hell, he wanted it tattooed on his arm. Peter had never been so happy while taking a test, that’s for sure. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say; he went from heartfelt responses to witty retorts. Finally, he decided to be totally and completely honest.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Saturday

There was seldom a time in his life where Peter Maximoff felt wholly content. Even in the most peaceful moments, there was always something bothering him, there was always something to pull him back to reality. However, sitting in the back of Grace’s dad’s convertible with the seats down and the roof pulled back, his head resting on her shoulder as they watched a cheesy horror movie, Peter was as close to nirvana as he’d ever been.

Life had always been so hard for Peter. He’s always had to fight for his seat at the table, to claw his way into a state of mind that wasn’t a hellhole. It seemed as if the world was plotted against him; he was ostracized from society and taught that he, along with his closest family and friends, were monsters. He never met his father and his mother spent so long fighting her own battles that she forgot to love her kids. Peter had to steal to stay fed, and he had to do his best to raise his little sisters to be good people. But right there, right then? That wasn’t hard. Peter didn’t have to be anyone or do anything-- he just had to exist next to someone who wanted him. That was the easiest thing Peter had ever done.

Peter wasn’t exactly sure how he got there. Of course, he knew that they had driven to the drive-in, but he wasn’t sure how he was the person next to Grace. They had spoken for one day, maybe two, and somehow he landed himself in the most perfect spot in the entire universe. Less than a week ago, she didn’t even know his name. Or, maybe she did. Maybe she was just like Peter-- maybe she had spent the past year pining for him, and finally she worked up the nerve to just talk to him. Maybe. Peter isn’t complaining either way.

“Can I ask you a kind of cheesy question?” Peter is startled by the sound of his own voice. Grace sits up and glances at him.

“Shoot,”

“Do you-- well, uh, don’t read too much into this, but, do you believe in love at first sight?” God, he sounded awkward.

“Nope,” She said bluntly. Peter wasn’t expecting that answer, but he wasn’t exactly disappointed by it. “I mean, it’s kind of a stupid idea, ya know? Like, isn’t there a million poems and sonnets and books written about how love is this weird complicated monster of a feeling? I don’t think you can really love someone just by looking at them. You can love the idea of a person, sure, or maybe the look of a person, but you can’t love that person. Because a person is so much more than ‘first sight’,” she sighs. “I don’t know, maybe I’m being a killjoy. It just seems dumb to me-- dumb and, I don’t know, exclusive,”

Peter stops to think for a moment. He steps out of his lovesick chaotic hellbrain and looks at his feelings from an outside perspective. He thinks back to the kingdom he created in his brain-- a kingdom built on a foundation of sand. Or, less than sand. Holographic sand, because the sand he built his kingdom on wasn’t real. He made a mental note that ‘Holographic Sand’ is a kickass band name, then resumed his impromptu soul-searching. She was right-- he could see that now. Scott was right, too. You really can’t love someone you don’t know, because if you don’t know them, you fill in the gaps. You fill in the gaps with what you think fits, and then the other person stops being them and starts being parts of you. Peter suddenly felt weird.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong,” Grace interjects after a while. Peter hadn’t realized he’d been silent for so long.

“You didn’t say anything wrong. On the contrary, you, uh, you made things a little bit more… right, in my brain. You somehow managed to take a little chunk of chaos and tame it, which is scarily impressive,” he joked. “Remind me to ask you your opinion on the meaning of life and the root of true happiness,” They’re joined in a chorus of laughter and Peter realizes that his little brain kingdom didn’t hold a candle to the red convertible he was sitting in. She slings an arm around his shoulders.

“Y’know, I might not know the meaning of life, but I am pretty close to true happiness right now,” She says, softer than before. “Maybe the root of true happiness is you, Maximoff,” She chuckles. Peter smiles. He doesn’t want the ruin the moment-- god, he is desperately trying to keep himself from fucking it up, but he feels obligated to tell her about his year of pining.

“Hey, uh, can I tell you something kinda pathetic?” He cringes at the way his voice trembled on the last word.

“Go ahead, Peter,” She used his name this time. Peter thinks she knows he’s about to say something mildly serious.

“I’ve liked you since, like, the beginning of the year. You seemed so… cool. So nice. I saw you in the hallways and my stomach would get all twisted up and my head would hurt a little bit. It was like I was allergic to you, but I enjoyed it. That sounds weird. I’m sorry,” He stopped for a moment, attempting to take the buzzing mass of words in his brain and string them into a sentence. “I was too afraid to talk to you, so I, uh, asked around. I got other people’s opinions of you and then built a little version of you in my brain. I realize now that, uhm, the little brain version of you is like, way way worse than actual you,”

When you talked to me the first time, you threw me off. I wasn’t really nervous about the test-- I mean, yeah I was nervous but that’s not why I looked so pale. I just wasn’t expecting for you to talk to me, like, willingly. So I lied because I was embarrassed. And I lied again in class yesterday. Because I was embarrassed,” He stopped talking. Peter felt like he was digging himself into a hole-- he felt like he killed the sweet sugary mood.

“Why are you telling me this?” Grace asked. She didn’t sound angry. She sounded a little confused, and she sounded like she was trying to help Peter decipher his brain.

“I don’t know, I guess I just feel bad. I feel bad for, uh, for not being honest I guess. I feel bad for being a coward,” Yep, definitely killed the mood.

“Peter, you shouldn’t feel bad for being afraid, you know,” She assures. “I would’ve done the exact same thing in your position. Hell, I did do the exact same thing in your position,” That caught Peter’s attention.

“What?”

“You didn’t drop your keys in algebra. You dropped them somewhere in bio and my friend found them. She was gonna take them to the office, but I wanted an excuse to talk to you, so I said I’d return them,” Peter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was being pranked, he had to be. “Being awkward and weird is like a requirement in high school. Don’t sweat it, Maximoff, really. We’re all the same in that way, I think,”

Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him. He was feeling too much at that moment, he was letting the bad drown out the good. He didn’t want to remember the day in a sad light.

“I like you. A lot. Even if you are awkward and weird,” He smiles softly. Slowly, ever so slowly, he intertwined his fingers with those of the girl beside him. It was a simple display of affection, but it made Peter feel like he was floating.

“I like you too, dork,” Peter smiled widely before placing his head back on Grace’s shoulder. Peter wasn’t paying attention to the movie, in fact, he wasn’t paying attention to anything at all. No, Peter was lost in his head again-- but this time, he wasn’t standing on a false kingdom with a false version of the girl he liked. No, this time, he was thinking about the very real girl beside him. He was thinking about the perfect world they had created in the small car they were in; a perfect world where he felt so much emotion and so, so safe. They had built a utopia in the back seat- a blissful tower of awkwardness and comfort and clumsy confessions. A paradise where he sat in the back seat of a Ford Galaxie with Graciella DeCuerpo, the pretty girl from algebra class, sitting right next to him.

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x oc #peter maximoff x reader #sorta a little bit #graciella reaper decuerpo #xmen #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #high school AU

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himooonlight · 4 years

Text

who are you? pt. 4 (reggie x reader)

pairing: reggie x reader

word count: 4.4k

plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him

warnings: confusion? EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE THOUGH, I PROMISE

A/N: look who is back :) I wanna thank @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic for being so sweet to me and giving me such a thoughtful feedback about the story. that gave me the motivation I needed to keep writing - so keep in mind that comments help the writer, ok? just hope I’m not disappointing anyone with this chapter by the way… and sorry again for taking forever to update.

here's chapter 1, chapter 2 and chapter 3

it’s @carolineeforbes' gif, by the way; I’m not sure how to add that “gif by…” at the end (cause I’m old and I know nothing about html)

As soon as the last class of the day ends, I make my way to Julie's locker so we can go to the cafe together. I haven't seen Reggie all day, but something tells me he's just as nervous as I am. Waiting for her, alone, I let my mind go to him, remembering his sweet smile.

There's something about him that gives me peace. It's not explainable or rational; it's just there. An invisible feeling that makes me ecstatic, blissful because he exists. And if that's not love, if it's something else, I can accept and live with it knowing that he taught me how to feel visible, alive.

Ironically, he is none of those things.

- Y/N, hi! - Nick's voice greets me. - How are you?

Nick is alone too. His blue eyes are darker than usual and his aura makes me shiver - more so than yesterday, his presence is heavy and disturbing. And I can't understand why. His clothes are darker than usual and even his cute freckles look more aggressive, if that's possible.

Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, but I can almost swear I see the own devil in the smile on his face. His whole body looks stiffer and more brutal, making me step back mindlessly and look around for somebody that could confirm that his eyes are actually trying to hurt me.

I'm out of my mind, for sure.

- Hey, Nick. - I say. My voice is breathy and low, matching my demeanor. - I'm alright. How about you?

I don't really wanna know about him and it's borderline annoying how my body is responding to the situation. My hands are shaking so much I have to hide them in my pockets. When my eyes start watering, I understand just how terrible the situation really is.

- Why are you so afraid of me, hum? - There's an eerie glow in his eyes that can only be described as demonic. Nick is following my every move, almost like he is trying to control my actions or read my mind. When he gets closer to me and lets his thumb meet my right cheek, a single tear rolls down, to what he smiles. He's enjoying the situation. - It's just me.

It's not him. It's not Nick.

I don't know what is going on, but this person is evil.

I can smell Nick's breath and see it too. It's purple and dense and I'm for sure out of my mind, because I can see it all around us as if trying to suffocate me.

The purple mist swirls around my head and vanishes quickly while my tears dry. Nick's smile disappears and his stare holds something heavy like betrayal. He looks disappointed, annoyed, angry, all together.

- I can't believe this. - He murmurs, stepping back. The boy is imitating a lost puppy or a spoiled kid that isn't getting what he wants. - Your soul is…

Nick looks so shocked and that gives me strength. The sudden vigor allows me to break our eye contact and recompose myself, just in time to blink and get an image in my head like a daydream. But it wasn't a dream or my imagination; it feels like a memory, just like what I experience with Reggie.

I see a big stage. The curtains are embroidered with CC's and everything is either black or gold. There's a tall man standing in the center, with the same aura as Nick, and the same expressive eyes. He's screaming for attention and validation.

The man is wearing a velvet suit and sparkly shoes. I can tell he's narcissistic and have some kind of power over people, because nobody around the place is looking directly at him. They all look scared and conflicted; probably because he demands attention but makes them feel bad about it.

Someone opens the curtain a little bit more and I can see a big glass box filled with water. Three assistants wrap his hands and feet with chains and when he sees me staring, a devious grin spreads across his face, making me shiver and get an urge to run.

I manage to do that, going back to the school halls in real life, ignoring all that happened in my mind just seconds before.

Nick is nowhere to be seen and my body is not shaking anymore.

- Hey, Y/N. - Julie says. Flynn smiles at me and I try my best to do the same, but I'm still overwhelmed by the feeling of being controlled. - Are you alright? Not to be that person, but you look like you've seen a ghost.

Flynn laughs while her friend winks at me, lighting up the mood. Still, I can't wrap my head around what just happened. I feel sick to my stomach, dizzy and they probably can see it in my face that I'm not fine.

- Don't know if Reggie said anything to you, but they talked and Alex doesn't feel ready to go to the coffee shop yet. He's afraid that they're going to move on and disappear and he's not sure if that's what he wants now. - She explains. Flynn nods her head the whole time, agreeing with everything Julie says and making me wonder how much she knows. Probably everything. - But, really, are you feeling ok?

- I think I just need to go home and sleep a bit. - After trying my best to assure them I'll be fine, I start making my way to the parking lot. We're not the best of friends, so I don't feel comfortable explaining anything, especially when Reggie's nowhere to be seen. - I'll see you tomorrow, ok?

I can't find my sister's car when I get to our usual spot, so I just stand there, calming my senses and looking at the sky. It's a beautiful day with a few clouds and it's impossible not to find solace in the pretty blue infinity.

The clouds are moving in all its glory. The cumulus clouds are very fluffy and not very high in the sky, letting me notice their cotton-like appearance distinctly. It's so peaceful that I can't stop my mind from wandering to Reggie and that same feeling of harmony and happiness that he makes me feel.

- Julie told me you were not feeling well. - The boy startles me, making me jump and almost scream. - Did you fall? Did you eat something bad? Maybe you should go to the hospital. I should know that considering I died from a bad hot dog. What did you have?

His wide eyes and fast words make me laugh, forgetting everything that happened previously. He tries to touch my hand and signs when that doesn't happen. I do the same, regretting momentarily the day I met him.

I know I love Reggie. That feeling, however, is like getting tickled and laughing out loud. For someone just passing by, it might look like we're having fun, but it's also painful and excruciating. A smile doesn't necessarily means joy; sometimes it's just a mechanism to stay positive. And positivity is very important when the person you love is a ghost.

- I'm alright now, don't worry. - In cue, Daisy arrives. - Wanna go home with me? - I ask, covering my mouth with my hand, pretending to yawn. He follows me without answering and the way Day looks at me as soon as I get inside tells me that she believes her little sister is simply happy with the tickling. - Hey.

- Well, well, well. Look who is in love.

Reggie sits in the backseat and it's inevitable to feel nervous. It doesn't really matter that Day can't see him; the only important thing is that we haven't talked about feelings yet and now he knows how I feel.

He knows what I feel: love.

Suddenly I am drowning in dichotomy, a bipolar feeling of relief and nervousness.

I am relieved that the "decision" is no longer in my hands.

It's like that child's game, hot potato. The ball would pass in a circle and if the song ends and you are holding the object, the responsibility to run after someone is in your hands. Every time I held the ball as a kid, I felt excitement, anxiety and nervousness and yet I still enjoyed playing the game, even with the risk of losing.

Reggie knowing how I feel is basically that same feeling of not knowing whether I would have to run or be disappointed and relieved at the same time for not being chosen. The next step is his to take; to either stop the music or continue singing.

- Sis? - Daisy's voice brings me back to the car and all the consequences. - Are you ok?

- Yeah, yeah. Just a bit nervous about some school stuff.

I met Reggie in school, so it's not exactly a lie. Josh's voice rings in my head saying "I ain't calling you a truther" and making me wish I could tell everybody about how I met Reginald and how much I like him.

- We went from love interest to school project. Y/N, we really need to talk. - Reggie's remarks make me roll my eyes. - What am I to you? And you don't need to be nervous, darling. It's just me.

It's just me.

Same words that left Nick's lips.

I feel shivers running down my spine, remembering everything. His gaze, the strong perfume and my own thoughts all over the place. What about my soul? What about me that scared him so much? And that stage? The magician?

Too many questions for someone that just wanted a few answers.

- Reggie, please, we'll talk later.

Oh, no.

Daisy is looking at me like I am crazy and she's possibly right. There's no way I am not losing my mind by now.

- Who is Reggie?

Oh, no.

- Reggie?

- Yeah, you just said his name. Is this part of your school thingy? - She bounces like a little kid, making me breathe normally. She's not about to ask if I lost my mind, great. - Practicing some of those insanely creative theatre games? How does this one work?

Oh, yes.

- I have to create this character, right? - Reggie scoots closer to listen to my explanation, sitting on the edge of the seat. I can see him through the rearview mirror and he has a curious expression on his face. A very cute expression that makes me smile. - For the whole day I have to talk to him, Reggie, like he really exists. - Daisy beams and that gives me courage to continue. - I get extra points if I get to make somebody else speak and interact with him, so do you wanna try?

I really ain't a truther.

The thing with my family is that they are incredibly supportive, especially Daisy and my dad. My sister's bad temper is not even half as intense as her supportive-big-sister-mode. Probably because of that that I don't have many friends - because it is very easy to get lost in my family's love. They make me feel like I don't really need other people, like nobody else would be as important as them, so why try? I've always had friends here and there, but opening up and trusting is a whole different story.

Maybe that's why Reggie had such an impact on me; because he made me realize that the world is bigger than my little bubble, than what meets the eye.

- I need to know a little more about this Reggie dude. Characteristics, please.

- Reggie, what do you want me to tell her? - I look at him, turning my head to face his way and the view makes my heart melt: he's staring at us with thankful eyes.

The boy is on the verge of tears. Happy tears, apparently. It feels so heartwarming to see his big white smile and his freckles from up close.

- I… I don't know. What do you want her to know about me?

- Well, Day is more than just my sister. - I reply while Daisy just smiles, keeping her attention on the road. - She's my best friend, so I'd like her to know everything about you. I know she'll like you anyways cause you're both sweethearts. You two like Star Wars and she says she hates puns, but that's a lie. And you're always making jokes and being adorable, so that's a start, right? You'll get along just fine.

- What about appearance-wise? Is he cute? - My sister's question has Reggie laughing and blushing. Their interaction is so cute and the tears on Reggie's eyes say the same.

- He has deep blue eyes, a pointy nose and some freckles that look like the galaxy. For all I know he could have the whole bear keeper constellation on his face, I swear. - The way he observes me speaking foolishly about him is encouraging and sweet. He seems to be admiring me too, intrigued by the way I describe his features.

- Bear keeper constellation, hum? He should watch out for poisoning then.

My sister giggles scares the hell out of me and by Reggie's silence and wide eyes, he's panicking too.

- What? - I mumble.

- Icarius? The wine story? - She tries explaining, but seeing my confused semblance, she continues. - Icarius died because some people thought he poisoned them with wine. They didn't understand alcohol back then and well, he died for nothing. Poor guy. After all, a god really did trust him with the wonders of wine because he was such a great person and he basically died for that. For being too good. - She shrugs like it's nothing, like I am not surprised and startled by the coincidence. I never heard that story in my life. - But what else? I wanna know more about him.

Reggie shakes his head and closes his mouth, blinking a few times in the process. I take my time to study him once again, ignoring my own surprise.

- He's funny, positive, loves animals and can be a bit of an airhead, but that's cause he's very creative and imaginative. He is a bassist, likes flirting and I'd say he uses jokes as a way to cope with sadness.

I can't look at him while saying those things, so I fix my posture and stare at the car in front of us. It's too personal and I don't know how he truly feels about me and the way I read him. After all, I officially met him yesterday and every single dream could be wrong. My version of him could be wrong.

I could only hope I was right and he would keep singing in that silent game of hot potato.

- The only important question left is: what's his Harry Potter house?

And that's how we spend the rest of the day watching Harry Potter, with Reggie sitting beside me with his eyes glued to the tv screen. When Chamber of Secrets ends, my parents get home and Day quickly explains that we'll be having company for dinner. Reggie doesn't leave my side for a second and even though I could speak to him when my sister was around, my parents might think differently, so I don't really hold my breath.

- We have company for dinner, dad. - Daisy says.

- Oh, really? - My dad asks. He's already in the kitchen, so we follow him there. Reggie sits on the counter while Day helps with the food and I just stand by the door, looking at my family. - Who is coming?

Daisy does something funny with her eyebrows, teasing me, and I roll my eyes, because that's very rich coming from her. Reggie is silent, just studying our reactions and conversations, so I decide to imitate him, sitting by his side. I want him to feel included in the family, like he belongs there, like he is welcome in our house.

- Dad, this is my friend Reginald, but you can call him Reggie. - I say, pointing at the boy next to me. I know they can't see him; it would be impossible considering he is dead. Reggie's eyes, however, beg for love and appreciation, so I don't mind making a fool of myself if that means I get to make him feel comfortable. - He'll be eating dinner with us tonight, if that's alright.

- Well, sure. - My father answers, with a smile on his face and no second thoughts whatsoever. - We're happy to have you here, Reggie.

Daisy winks at me and Reggie is astonished with my dad's answer, especially because he really is looking and speaking in his direction, to the place I pointed. That probably makes him feel alive, but I don't really have time to say anything else because soon enough my dad walks up to him and goes for a handshake. My dad doesn't wait for Reggie's hand to shake it, but the boy doesn't mind and lets his transparent skin go through my dad's solid body, trying any kind of connection he can.

- Cold hands, hum? But are you really just friends with my daughter? Cause I don't recall any friends staying for dinner before.

It's not really a surprise that my father would participate in any kind of experiment, project or whatever he thinks this is; his trust and love for me are the only irrational part of him and he is very good at that - trusting me with his eyes closed. As Daisy explains everything to him, his tired figure just keeps cooking dinner and making a few questions here and there. He starts with the basic "how was your day?" and moves on to "bassist that loves country music? That's new. I would like to listen to your music, Reggie".

He's not weirded out by the situation and that makes me wonder if I should tell him the truth. Or at least half of it. Maybe he wouldn't understand everything, but at least I'd feel lighter. When he starts telling us the positive stories that he's seen in the hospital today, Reggie interrupts his monologue by leaving the kitchen, so I follow him.

- What's wrong? - I ask, indicating my room. He goes in and I close the door. - Is everything okay?

He doesn't answer for a moment. He just stands there, looking out the window. His torso is covered in the same black leather jacket that I've seen so many times before in my dreams and his hair looks perfect. He looks perfect. Even when he sniffs and starts crying.

He looks perfect and I'm freaking out.

- I am so sorry for today, Reggie. It was never my intention to make you feel bad, I swear. That doesn't mean you shouldn't feel whatever you're feeling; I'm just justifying myself really. - I start mumbling, letting the words come out of my mouth with no filter. - You don't have to stay, if you don't want to. You can leave and we can talk tomorrow... I don't know.

He's not singing in our game of hot potato. Reggie's sad and it's painful to see him like that, crying, perhaps even regretful. After the heavy day, I can't stop myself from crying too, feeling unwanted, wrong.

My heart hurts.

My heart hurts for him, almost like we share the same body.

- I forgot how much I missed being alive. - He says, letting his fingers roam his cheeks, cleaning any signs of tears. - It's not just about dying young, you know? It's like ordering a pizza that you know will never arrive, but you still don't order another one. You just keep waiting and waiting. And you can almost taste it; the cheese, the smell, the love in the shape of pepperoni… but it's still not enough. Being a ghost is not enough for me, Y/N. I need to make my own pizza or order something else.

A glimpse of determination in Reggie's eyes makes me feel uneasy. If Alex said he didn't want to find out, "ordering something else" is off limits. Going alone to the cafe looking for answers could mess their friendship and hurt all of them even more.

- Are you sure you can't wait a little bit more? We can wait together, if it helps. - My reasoning is not the best in the world; I am basically bargaining more time with him. - We can finish Harry Potter, I can show you some music. And, of course, you still have Julie and your friends, right? Maybe the pizza will arrive, Reggie. Have a little faith.

He opens his mouth a few times, trying to say something, but nothing comes out. He shrugs and turns around, staring at the window again. Outside, the weather is the same and everything looks peaceful. But inside of him, things are different. His world is not the same as it was when he entered my house.

He wants answers now.

- What kind of music do you wanna show me?

His smile is not reaching his eyes, but I take whatever I can get, grabbing my phone quickly and playing Taylor Swift. He falls in love with her banjo songs, like I knew he would, and then shows me some of his favorite musicians. We talk about movies and he's impressed to know that Back To The Future is a classic, considering that none of his friends liked it back then.

It's so easy to talk to him. His overflowing attention and care is noticeable and heartwarming. It's not like he's just answering me, no, he's making conversation, showing interest and curiosity about me, about the things I like. And I do the same with him, because I wanna know everything there is to know, everything he wants me to know and love.

With him so close to me it's very easy to forget he's not alive.

- You know what I was thinking? - He asks with his face so close to mine that I can even count his freckles.

- No. - I whisper and he chuckles. - What is it?

- I really wish they could see me. Your family. They are so nice. I really wish my unfinished business involved them too so they could see me. - Reggie sounds sad again, so put my hand on his knee, not really touching him. We're sitting on the floor, with our backs resting on the wall and our legs close to our chests, looking like two lost kids. - At least I've got you.

- Your parents probably miss you too, you know? Don't you think we should look for them? Do you think it would help?

- I am not sure anymore. I think I want to know, but at the same time what if I get disappointed? What if they don't care about me anymore? Don't think about me at all? Or what if they do? What if they can't move on? - He touches my hand softly and I can tell he has to focus a lot for that to happen. - It's also scary to see what they've become. To see what my future could've been.

He doesn't say anything else after that. His thumb tries stroking my skin and it takes a while until he finally succeeds. My heart is about to get out of my chest and I stay still, afraid that he'll run away like he did the night before.

- You are not your parents, Reggie, just as I am not mine. As much as they are responsible for us to some extent, it's not as if we are a property being marked by our last name. Our family is not our whole world; if anything, they're the cheerleaders who stand outside the field cheering for us. Well, - I feel his gentle touch more prominently so I turn my gaze to our connected hands. - at least it should be like that. But anyway, I'm very proud of you. You are a beautiful, loved human being with an incredible capacity to love others. Alive or dead, you're full of life and that's amazing.

I don't want to extend the topic too much, just in case he's not ready for it, but I know that our parents also lost individual characteristics when they became parents. They didn't have their own names anymore; they were "my father" and "my mother". It seemed that they were less their own and more ours, as if their value was linked to their children in some way.

- I… thank you. - Suddenly I can't feel his touch anymore. Disappointed, we stand up at the same time and again, we're so close I can memorize the exact shape of his lips. - You have no idea how much I… I needed this. Needed you. How much I need you. I'm happy we found each other, Y/N. I really am.

- Me too, Reggie. I just wish our timing was a bit better, you know?

- Yeah… I mean, the world is so old, right? At least we got some time here together. Let's just enjoy it from now on. Like it's now or never. - He smiles brightly again and I imitate him. - That's one of our songs, by the way. You need to hear -

The doorbell startles us. Reggie and I laugh at our own reactions and I go get the door. When I open it, Nick is there, with arrogant eyes and an infuriating smile.

- Hey, Y/N. - He says. - I think we need to talk. Now.

- Honey, who is this? - My mother asks me. Just like Daisy, she has that pretentious grin that tells me she thinks we're more than friends. - Is this Reggie that your dad was telling me about? Come in, sweetheart. Dinner is almost ready.

Mom runs to the kitchen, probably to tell the others about the news, and I'm scared again. If looks could kill, I'd be just like Reggie now.

- Oh, so Reggie is here too? Good, that way we can kill two birds with one stone. - Reggie comes to the rescue, but he looks just as conflicted and confused as me. - And just so you know, you're one of the birds, Y/N, and I won't let you escape again.

- What is this little dude talking about? - Reggie asks.

Nick's head turns to Reggie's direction and I feel sick again. It's hard to breathe and the purple mist coming out of the blonde's mouth is scarier than before. He's standing at my door, invading my house and threatening me. Everything is too much, my own body, my own thoughts and the house feels smaller and smaller.

- I am talking about you, your friends and this rat right here. I've been looking for you for two lifetimes already and I'm not letting you go again. Not without getting my revenge first.

taglist: @revolutionary-werewolf-ghosts

#Reggie #reggie x y/n #reggie x reader #Reggie fanfic #reggie jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms fanfic #julie and luke fanfic #alex and willie fanfic #jeremy shada #Fanfic reader #reader fanfic #reader fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic fluff #fanfic

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bush-viper-cutie · 4 years

Text

“An Unfortunate Christmas” || YEAR 3 – Ch.23 (HP au)

Chapter List

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Day posted: 9/25/2020

Word count: 3,169

Relationship: EVENTUAL severus X oc (slow burn)

Rating: E for everyone

Warnings: none

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A/N: This is my first fan fic I’m writing mainly as a way to practice. This is a retelling of the hp books with an inserted character. Although most every character will be written about, this is mostly for the pro snape fandom. Please do not fear, although this is a severus x oc story, it is an incredibly slow burn as I do not intend for them to get together at all until after the final book events. Chapters will be posted twice a week.

This derivative work follows the events of the Harry Potter books by Jk Rowling and is intended as a fun way to practice my writing. Thank you for reading :D

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Heather, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way down to the great hall in silence. Hermione was still mad at Ron for criticizing her cat, and Ron was still upset with Hermione for owning a rat craving creature.

The large great hall doors were decorated with long tinsel that hung from the very top and dragged along the bottom as the doors opened. Entering the room, Heather gasped, along with Harry. All the tables except one had been pushed back and stacked along the walls. There were twelve seats set for the table, where Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick along with Mr. Filch and two other students who appeared to be first years were already sitting.

Heather was right that no other Slytherin had stayed behind. When Professor Snape had walked in with the normal sign up scroll, she had been the only one to put her name down. She hadn’t paid attention for much longer than to know no one else was jumping at the opportunity to stay behind, something Pansy had noticed and commented on.

She could tell Ron and Harry were not very pleased, sitting so close to Professor Snape or Mr. Filch, and as they approached slowly Professor Dumbledore greeted them enthusiastically, as if trying to raise low spirits.

“Merry Christmas! There are so few of us, I had thought it’d be foolish to be so spread out on tables.” Professor Dumbledore smiled and motioned for the extra seats.

There were three at the end and two right after Professor Snape. Ron and Harry hurried to the seats farthest him, making Hermione sit next to the first years and Heather didn’t want to be rude so she sat next to Professor Snape, leaving the end seat empty.

The table filled with food within minutes. Platters of glazed turkey, bowls of gravy, vegetables platters, warm breaded stuffing, and potatoes of all kinds appeared before them. Their goblets filled with warm liquid and round crinkly rolls fell onto their plates.

Professor Dumbledore lifted his and offered the end to Professor Snape. “Crackers?”

Professor Snape looked at it, and as everyone was now looking at him, he pressed his lips together and pulled on the end. There was a loud pop like a firework had gone off under a silver platter and an odd hat with a stuffed vulture exploded out and floated over the steaming food, waiting to be claimed.

Heather’s eyes widened and looked away, remembering Neville’s boggart. Harry and Ron must have been remembering as well, because they were having a hard time keeping a straight face and were looking at each other. She looked back and swore even Professor McGonagall was smiling under her hand.

Professor Snape pressed his lips into a thin line again and pushed the hat towards Professor Dumbledore who traded his wizard hat for it without a second thought. “Let’s dig in,” Professor Dumbledore said.

The professors started talking among themselves as everyone started scooping foods onto their plates. Heather reached for a large piece of turkey and drowned it in gravy. The cracker was a bit cumbersome so she held it out to Hermione who pulled on the end. With a loud muffled pop, a large red sunhat with a flaking Christmas tree sprung out. It was kind of hideous, and large and when Harry popped his own cracker and a much smaller white wizards hat with ribbon everywhere came out, she exchanged it at once.

“Hey!” Harry took the tree hat and frowned, recognizing its unsightliness at once.

Heather smiled and wore the white hat, digging into the roasted potatoes. The great hall doors opened again and Professor Trelawney entered taking quick bobbing steps that made her seem as though she was gliding across the room to them. She was wearing so much sequence that she let off a glittering light pattern against the floor. Her green dress looked like it’d gone out of style several decades ago even by wizard standards.

Professor Dumbledore stood. “Sybill, how lucky we are to have you join us today.”

“I was crystal gazing and to my amazement, I saw myself abandoning my normal luncheon to join you. I could not resist the pull of fate and had to come down at once. Please excuse my lateness but it was meant to be…”

“Of course, Sybill. Please,” Professor Dumbledore motioned for the end chair.

Harry, who was on the across the chair Professor Trelawney would sit in, had on a very grave face. Heather hid her grin with the back of her hand and looked at Hermione, who was close to laughing at Professor Trelawney’s speech.

Professor Trelawney was mumbling something as her giant owl eyes looked at everyone. She gasped and shook her head. “I mustn’t! You all make twelve! I could not bring such bad luck by making us thirteen. ‘When thirteen dine, the first to rise is first to die’! I dare not, Headmaster!”

Hermione was about to lose it.

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry Sybill, we’ll risk it.”

Professor Trelawney continued to shake her head and mumble “I couldn’t.”

“But didn’t you say you SAW yourself joining us? Which means you will anyways?” Heather felt a kick from Harry and winced.

Professor Trelawney looked down at the chair and nodded. “Well yes I-I have.” She took her seat and offered a cracker to Harry, who pretended not to notice. She looked around. “Where is our dear Professor Lupin?”

“Unfortunately he is ill once again.” Professor Dumbledore served himself a spoonful of gravy, drizzling it on everything, indicating to everyone that they should continue eating.

“But of course you knew that already, Sybill?” Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, receiving a very cold glare from her.

“I knew, Minerva. Of course I did, except it is bad manners to parade around the fact that one is all knowing. That is why I often act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye. It is very rude to make people around me nervous.”

“Well that explains a great deal,” Professor McGonagall said irritably.

Heather was looking at Hermione who looked just as amused as she felt.

“I have seen that Professor Lupin will not be here for very long. That his time is running out which he must know. He refused to allow me to crystal gaze for him, fleeing as if – ”

“Imagine that,” Professor McGonagall said dully.

“I’m sure,” Professor Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, “that Professor Lupin is not in any danger. He is ill, and in bed after having taken his potion. Which, Severus, you have made for him again?”

“Of course. Headmaster.”

Professor Dumbledore smiled. “Wonderful, then he shall be up and about in no time.”

Heather looked over at Harry, who was giving Professor Snape a narrowed side-stare. The meal went on quite normally after that. Harry and Ron were laughing and Hermione, although ignoring Ron, seemed to be just as amused by the professor’s conversations as Heather was.

Heather was peering past Professor Snape as Professor Flitwick told his story. Professor Sprout was almost crying into her steamed carrot with laughter. It was hard not to at least smile, especially when even Professor Snape, who constantly looked in a foul mood, chuckled a few times.

She glanced at Hermione for a second and noticed she was frowning at her. Heather raised an eyebrow and Hermione looked at Ron and Harry and turned back, shaking her head. Then her brows furrowed again and she gave Heather another look.

What on earth was she trying to say? Did she forget wizards can’t read minds? Heather tilted her head at her and Hermione waved her away, going back to her food.

“Derek, would you like some chipolatas?” Professor Dumbledore offered some to the quiet first year next to him.

The first year went very red and shook his head.

“Heather? What about you?”

Heather gladly took a sausage from the plate Professor Dumbledore held out to her. She stabbed into it with her fork and turned back to Professor Flitwick’s story, which had turned into the time he had been banned from a zoo for trying to smuggle a penguin in order to impress his girlfriend at the time.

“Then when I came back, muggle penguin under my arm, she was gone! I had about five guards looking for a penguin that was rumored to have opened doors,” he was having a hard time not laughing, “so I had to do something risky.”

“Oh the risk-taking starts now?” Professor Sprout burst out, wiping her eyes with her finger.

Professor Flitwick continued, “Yes! Up until then I was only breaking muggle laws! But I had to get away! So I took a Dawdle Drought, Draught of Peace, and an Extimulo Potion all at once and charmed the nearest bench – ”

Professor Snape laughed and cut in, “All three at the same time?”

Professor Flitwick started banging on the table, unable to contain himself. “Yes! Now, Severus, Don’t spoil it for the rest! I was never good at potions so of course I didn’t know what the effects combined would be, but you can all bet I did a stellar job charming that bench,” his voice became squeakier with every word.

He continued his story, and had Heather not learned about several far more insane and crazy events during History of Magic class, she would have never believed any of what he was saying to be true. The only part Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at was about Professor Flitwick jumping over the hedge fence which he claimed to be able to do despite describing it as three times taller than his height.

“And so I woke up – a week later! Mind you – dazed and in the company of one of those traveling merchant farmers after having promised him a pig and a goat upon my arrival of what destination I told him in my delirious state. And to this day that zoo has a strict no-sweater rule placed on children between the ages of seven and nine.”

Professor Sprout had lost the ability to hold a fork and even Professor McGonagall was dabbing at her eyes, unable to believe the events that unfolded for a young Professor Flitwick. After everyone had calmed their laughing fits, Heather wondered about the combination of the potions he had taken.

She knew Draught of Peace had to be turquois blue and simmering before being consumed and consisted of powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered porcupine quills, and powdered unicorn horn. She had never made it before and doubted they’d ever be made to make it since brewing it around Neville could end up sending them all into a deep sleep.

Heather turned to Professor Snape, “Was it that the Draught of Peace wasn’t simmering?”

Hermione cut in, “It must have been too much of the Valerian Root in the potion.”

Heather frowned. “Then he’d still be asleep. If the potion wasn’t consumed simmering – ”

“It was the combination of snowdrop, valerian root, and sopophorous bean,” he said sourly, attempting to end the conversation.

Hermione had a look about her and Heather rolled her eyes, knowing she was counting the mention of valerian root as a win.

“But not because there was EXTRA valerian root added, right?” Heather waited for Professor Snape to respond but he merely sipped his goblet.

It had been two hours from the start of the feast and everyone was just about bursting, stuffed full with Christmas dinner. Hermione had somehow taken out a book on fifth year potions – something Heather found incredibly suspicious that she just happened to have had on her – and proven that up to one twentieth of a thimbleful of valerian root could be added without causing permanent sleep but Professor Snape rolled his eyes and so they both took it as it wasn’t the cause and so they had both technically been wrong.

Harry and Ron got up after finishing dessert and Professor Trelawney shrieked.

“W-which one of you stood first?” She reached out for them and looked at each one fiercely.

Ron swallowed, shrugging. “Dunno?”

“What difference is it?” Professor McGonagall said tartly. “Unless there is a mad and deranged giant hound on the other side of those doors, ready to kill the first person into the entrance hall.”

Ron laughed and Harry snickered, making Professor Trelawney look very wounded at Professor McGonagall.

“You guys coming?” Harry looked at Heather and Hermione.

“Er – yes.” Hermione stood and kept close to Heather as they walked out. Just as they reached the entrance hall stairs into the main corridor, Hermione stopped. “I need a word with Heather, you two go on ahead.”

Heather stopped and stood next to Hermione as Harry and Ron walked on. She crossed her arms, expecting it to be about whatever she was trying to communicate all during the meal.

“That broom. We need to… to… tell the professors.”

Heather’s eyes widened. Them? Tattle on Harry? Get his broom taken away and make it impossible for him to participate in his next matches? She liked the plan she had made with Draco getting the same broom, keeping it fair, but to betray Harry?

“Hermione, why would we do that?”

She sighed, “Because what if it’s from Black? And it’s cursed and he gets hurt?”

Heather shook her head. “Black’s just come out of prison. Where would he have the money – ”

“What if he falls again and this time he… this time Dumbledore isn’t there to save him!”

Heather’s breath caught in her throat. Hermione was right in a way, and if she was at all right about who had given him the broom… Then Harry was in grave danger. She looked down at her hands and nodded.

“We’ll go back in and tell Professor McGonagall.” Hermione spun on her heels and led the way back into the great hall.

The first years ran past them, making them the last students invading the professor’s dinners. They approached the table and Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall looked over at them. They stood at either side of professor Trelawney and when Heather didn’t speak, Hermione did.

“Professor McGonagall? Could I have a word, please? It’s extremely important.”

“Is it so important that it cannot wait? That it must – ”

Hermione interrupted Professor Snape, “Yes.”

“Over there then.” Professor McGonagall pointed at the high table stage and they followed her up. “What is it? What’s happened. Where is Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?”

“They’re in the tower, but... well… Harry’s received a Christmas gift that might not… be very safe.”

Professor McGonagall blinked at Hermione and turned to Heather. “What gift?”

Heather unstuck her dry tongue. “A Quidditch broom…”

“But it arrived without a note and he has no idea who could have given it to him! And Heather didn’t receive any sort of present like that so it was meant for only him!” Hermione let out a shaky breath as Professor McGonagall thought.

“So you’re both thinking it could be from Sirius Black, then? Is that it?”

They nodded.

“But isn’t there some way to see if it’s dangerous? So that Harry could still use it if it’s not?” Heather had to try to save it for him, especially if Draco might be returning to school with one of his own.

Professor McGonagall nodded and told them to wait there as she collected Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore. “Explain again, please.”

Heather nodded. “Harry received a firebolt – ”

Professor McGonagall sucked in air like she’d just been stung. “An actual firebolt?”

Heather nodded, seeing the loss in her eyes. “And it didn’t have a note.”

“It could be from Sirius Black,” Hermione added.

Professor Dumbledore stroked his beard. “How unfortunate… to receive such a wonderful Christmas gift under such mysterious circumstances.”

“Headmaster. Potter, of course, will have the broom confiscated?” Professor Snape looked at Professor Dumbledore in thought.

“We would know if it’s jinxed or cursed as soon as its ridden, wouldn’t we?” Professor McGonagall laughed, “I could even be the one to – ”

“That would be foolish and dangerous,” Professor Snape snapped.

“Severus, you just don’t want your Slytherins to play us with a firebolt – ”

He raised a brow, “Irrelevant. I can, of course, check it for curses, and bring it ‘round to you when I’m through.”

Professor McGonagall lifted a disbelieving brow. “Done as soon as possible too, I’m sure.”

“I don’t think Harry would want… I mean… Since it’s his broom couldn’t someone else look at it?” Hermione looked at Professor McGonagall and avoided anyone else’s eyes.

“This isn’t a repair shop, Granger.” Professor Snape turned back to Professor Dumbledore. “If the broom needs to be searched thoroughly, the only expert in this castle would be me.”

Professor Dumbledore let go of his beard and smiled, finally focusing on the situation again. “A simple search will suffice. Filius and Rolanda will do fine with that.”

Heather watched Professor Snape go from amused, to disbelieving, to angry. “Headmaster. Perhaps we should consider the fact that Sirius Black is the only known wizard to have escaped Azkaban and has somehow gotten passed an army of dementors and invaded this very school.”

“It has been considered, and Harry’s wishes on who will search the broom will be granted. Minerva, please confiscate the broom before anything unwanted happens.”

Professor McGonagall nodded. “They’re in the tower? Good. Then follow me.”

They marched along behind Professor McGonagall and the closer they got to the Gryffindor tower, the worse Heather felt. Her stomach was doing flips at the thought of taking Harry’s broom completely away. She kept telling herself that it was just going to be searched and returned, but that didn’t stop her guilt from eating at her.

They should have told him what they were going to do, not go behind his back about it. Of course it was all Hermione’s idea, and even Professor Dumbledore seemed a bit skeptical about it being from Sirius Black. They were nearing the portrait of Sir Cadogan when she decided she didn’t want to be a part of what was about to happen.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” She called out to Hermione and dashed back down the stairs before Hermione could even process what she’d yelled.

Tomorrow morning it was going to be a firestorm of daggers around them. Ron angry with Hermione, Harry angry at them, no one talking to anyone… She made it back down to the common room and sighed, relieved to have skipped seeing Professor McGonagall take the greatest broom in existence from Harry.

She looked around at her mess of books and paper around the fireplace and sat down on a cushion. She pulled up her dark arts book and continued reading where she had left off, using her folded up werewolf essay as a bookmark. She thought briefly of the possibility of Draco coming back with the firebolt and smiled guiltily, quickly clearing her mind.

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