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13uswntimagines · 3 years

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Loose Lips Sink Ships (Soran X Swift!Reader)

Request: The Next Instalment of the Swift!Reader Universe where everyone finds out that the reader is dating Emily and Lindsey. Basically, 5000 words of the reader getting caught in compromising positions, having deep conversations with her sister and teasing some too invasive fans.

Other Parts of the Swift!Reader Universe

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Taylor considered herself a very perceptive person, especially when it came to you. From the time you were little, she could read you like a book. She knew to look for the tilt of your head when you were curious, or how you scratched the back of your neck when you were nervous.

But this, she had never seen before. Your thumbs twiddled on your thighs, patting out an erratic pattern that didn’t match any of your favorite songs, and your feet were tapping out a completely different beat. You also kept tucking your chin, completely refusing to make eye contact with her.

It wasn’t just tonight either. It was for the entire week you had been staying with her in her Manhattan apartment. She didn’t know if she could take another three weeks of you sneaking off to the terrace to make phone calls at midnight.

She sighed, turning away from the stove to lean over the island, taking a long drag from her wine glass and eyeing you carefully.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You blinked up at her with owlish eyes.

“You’re acting weird,” she added with a shrug, turning to whatever she was making on the stove.

You took a large gulp of your drink and swallowed hard. You didn’t think you had been that obvious, but then again Taylor knew you better than anyone (well, there were two people who probably knew you as well as she did). Soon enough they would be just as good at getting information out of you as Taylor was.

“I’m just tired. Pre-season and national team duty are kinda kicking my ass,” You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, praying to god that she would take this excuse.

She nodded, tapping the spatula on the side of the pot before turning back to you and picking up her glass again. “I’m sure the media pressure isn’t helping that,”

You shrugged.“Everyone just expects me to be you, and it’s a lot sometimes,” You mumbled, absentmindedly circling your fingers over the rim of your glass.

Taylor’s eyebrows furrowed. She could tell you weren’t telling her everything, but if this was the route you wanted to take, then she wouldn’t miss a chance to reaffirm you.

“I know, and I’m sorry for that,” She said softly, reaching across the island to gently grab your hand.

You finally looked up at your sister, echoing her sad smile, and noting the worried crinkle by her eyes. “It’s not really your fault,”

She nodded. “I know, but all I can do is tell you how amazing you are as many times as I can,”

You held her gaze for a few more seconds, her seriousness giving you no reason to doubt her sincerity.

It didn’t matter what the media, or your family, said about your career. Taylor maintained that you were just as good, simply because you were you. She was your greatest champion and most trusted confidant.

You nodded, and she squeezed your hand before turning back to the stove. She knew pushing you to talk about what was really bothering you wouldn’t help. You would come to her when you were ready.

You watched her thoughtfully as she put the final touches on dinner, checking on a tray in the oven and stirring the things on the stove.

You were comforted by the familiarity of it, but the little voice in the back of your head reminded you that you also enjoyed this position when it was a different blond cooking for you (and the way Lindsey teased her while she cooked).

The three of you had been together for nearly eight months, and recently you had all decided that maybe it was time to stop hiding. The first step was telling Taylor, but you weren’t really sure how.

Your heart thumped in your chest at the thought of your two favorite women. Your girlfriends, you reminded yourself. They made you feel so many amazing, and terrifying things you had never felt before. Taylor always sang about those emotions, and you wondered if this was what she was talking about.

“Can I ask you a question?” You asked softly, and Taylor paused her stirring on the stove. That was always the cue you used when you wanted to have a serious conversation. When you were nervous about whatever the answer would be. The last time you had asked that you wanted to know if she would be upset if you skipped college in favor of going pro.

Her opinion mattered to you more than anyone else’s.

“You know you always can,” She said, avoiding looking over her shoulder (towards where she knew you were worrying your lip between your teeth).

“How did you know you were in love?”

Taylor paused, a pan halfway out of the oven, at the completely unexpected question. She should have seen this coming, she had seen the way those two looked at you.

She cleared her throat, straightening and setting the hot pan on some oven mitts on the counter, before turning her full attention to you. She took in how you seemed so hunched in on yourself, your eyes still glued to your glass.

“Well, She made me feel warm and bubbly like there was a hot spring in my chest. When anything happened, she was the first person I wanted to tell,”

You blinked up at her, your eyebrows furrowing. “Like you were addicted to her? Like when she smiled, it finally felt like you could breathe?” You rushed out and Taylor let you, giving you to work through your emotions, before she pulled you into a tight hug.

You had a very bad habit of bottling everything up and pretending that you were fine (something she was sure her career choice - and your mother- didn’t necessarily help).

“Did you feel scared of how much she made you feel?” You leaned into her touch, sighing when she ran her fingers through your hair.

“In the beginning it did, but then it was freeing when I realized that she would be there to catch me,” Taylor said, kissing the crown of your head.

You closed your eyes. You didn’t doubt that they would catch you, but the feeling of falling was terrifying. You were in deep and keeping it from your sister was difficult.

“Dinner looks amazing and I’m starving,” You mumbled, and you felt Taylor sigh. She had gotten a little out of you, but definitely not enough to curve her curiosity. All in good time.

“Let’s eat,” she said, kissing your hair and standing to make you two plates. She still had 2 weeks to get the rest of the story out of you.

****

You were in absolute heaven. Trapped in between the two warm bodies of your girlfriends, one set of lips moving with your own and another trailing kisses lightly down your neck.

Emily and Lindsey had spent one of their free days (between Adidas and other sponsor commitments) hanging out with you, and you couldn’t be happier. You spent the day exploring the city and checking off a massive list of stereotypical couple things the city had to offer. It had ended in a very romantic dinner at a little pub on the lower east side, and now some amazing kisses in your room at your sister’s apartment.

Lindsey’s hands slipped under the front of your shirt, her nail scratching lightly up your tummy and ribs as she pressed herself further into your back. You sighed into Emily’s mouth, tilting your head to both give her a better angle on your mouth and give Lindsey more room in your neck.

“Hm, we’ve gotta stop. Tay will be back soon,” You mumbled when Emily pulled back and turned you so Lindsey got her turn too.

You felt Emily sit up behind you to get a good look at the clock. “You said we had till 12, it’s only 11:15,” you could hear the smirk in her voice, even as she kissed your ear and made her way down to the patch of skin on your neck she knew drove you wild.

You bit your lip. It was one thing to ask your sister for relationship advice, and a complete other for her to walk in on it.

Lindsey gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you wanna stop?”

Emily paused as they both waited for your answer. It was sweet and comforting how they always made sure you felt safe and that you were enthusiastically consenting to whatever you were doing.

You shook your head and pouted. “No,”

Lindsey sent you a very indulgent smile, her thumb gently rubbing over your cheeks. “Then less talking, more kissing,”

You giggled into the kiss, a shiver running down your spine when Emily continued her ministrations in your neck.

You hummed into the kiss, very much enjoying how their bodies felt pressed into yours. God, it was like you just couldn’t get enough. It was so easy to lose track of time with them. It wasn’t until a loud slam of the door and your sister calling “Y/n, you here?” That you finally pulled away from the women.

“Shit! You two have to hide,” You squeaked, practically leaping from the bed. You threw Emily’s pants and Lindsey’s shirt towards the women on the bed, who were moving way too slow for your liking.

“Where?” Emily asked, tripping as she tried to hastily shove her legs inside her pants, while simultaneously glancing around your room in search of a suitable hiding space.

“I don’t know! Figure it out,” You said over your shoulder, taking a deep breath to hide your panic before you exited the room.

You carefully closed the door behind you, she would have zero chance of getting any information out of you).

“Hey kid, how was your day?” Taylor asked from the couch, looking over her wine glass at you. She opened her arms, and you immediately went to burrow into her.

“The best. I went out exploring,” Your entire face brightened (Taylor wondered if it was because you got to experience the city, or from the person, she was sure you experienced it with - ie the person(s?) who had left the hickey’s all down your neck).

“Where’d you get that shirt?” She asked after a few minutes, pinching the grey sweatshirt (which conveniently had a number 9 and the USWNT logo on it).

You blinked down at your outfit, your eyes widening, at your outfit, a pair of Emily’s Thorns shorts and Lindsey’s sweater.

“Oh, Umm,” you stuttered, racing to come up with a response when a bang echoed from your room.

Taylor’s head snapped in the direction of the sound “What was that?”

“Nothing Tay,” You winced at another loud thump followed by several giggles.

She raised an eyebrow at you and stood to go investigate for herself. She didn’t mind you bringing a significant other home (especially if they made you this happy) but she didn’t want them hiding from her.

“Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to go find them for myself?”

You crossed your arms like a petulant child and pouted. “I also spent the day with Emily and Lindsey,”

“And?” Taylor asked, slightly confused. She liked the women and she thought you knew she would approve. Hell, she had practically given them the shovel talk already.

You sighed, hunching your shoulders. “They’re hiding in my closet because we were making out when you came home,”

Taylor giggled at how absolutely pitiful you sounded. She patted your shoulder “Well, I think the closet is a terrible place to hide. How about you get them out here,”

You nodded and stood to go retrieve the girls, slightly afraid of what Taylor was going to say to them.

“And y/n,” she said just as you got to your door.

You paused and turned towards her “Yeah?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

“I’m happy that you’re so happy to be dating them,”

You smiled so wide that your cheeks started to hurt. It felt like a weight was lifted off your chest. No matter what happened going forward, Taylor supported you (even if you were sure she was about to give them one hell of a shovel talk and set up some serious boundaries).

You nodded and entered your room. Perhaps it was about time that you all came out of the closet.

******

You weren’t quite sure how you always got yourself into these situations. Maybe it was that you, Em, and Linds barely got to see each other outside of camp during the season, or maybe it was because the three of you were so sickeningly in love that you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.

Whatever it was, you, Emily, and Lindsey couldn’t seem to keep your hands to yourself (especially after you came out to your sister).

Even now, with the no girlfriends rule at camp, you found yourself pinned to the elevator wall by Lindsey’s hips, thoroughly enjoying the way Emily’s tongue was exploring your mouth (shivering slightly when Lindsey hit the sensitive spots on her neck) (with no idea how they thought this position was comfortable for them).

You were so engrossed in your kissing that you didn’t hear the ding of the elevator, or the doors beginning to slide open.

“Holy shit guys, at least let the girl breathe,” Kelley’s cackling caused all three of you to jump, and Lindsey to inadvertently knock heads with you.

“Fuck,” Emily hissed, working her way out from between Lindsey’s arms and your chest.

“Ow,” You mumbled, rubbing your forehead l, as Lindsey used a thumb to lift your chin so she could look at it. “You alright babe,” She asked softly.

Kelley laughed louder at the mess that was the three of you trying to untangle yourselves from each other, ignoring Alex’s glare (teasing someone while their cheeks were as red as yours were wasn’t something she felt comfortable with).

“Shut up Kelley,” Emily grumbled, pulling you off the wall so she could hug you from behind. You leaned back into the woman, taking whatever comfort you could. The three of you knew it was time to tell the team, but you hadn’t expected it to happen like this.

“How long has this been going on?” Alex asked softly after a few minutes. There was no way the three of you could be so comfortable around each other if this was a new thing.

“Almost a year,” You said, shyly looking up at Lindsey, who placed a very sweet kiss on your cheek while Emily placed the same on your other.

“Does Taylor know?” Alex asked at the same time Kelley said “I’m gonna need an exact date,”.

Alex slapped the back of Kelley’s head. “Not the time Kel,”

“Yeah, Taylor knows and is super cool with it,” Lindsey said softly, squeezing your hand.

Alex tilted her head, looking to you for confirmation. You nodded.

“Good, because I didn’t want to have to try and keep it from her,” The forward smirked, and you felt more heat in your cheeks. You all promised you would never mention that incident again.

“She was terrifying last time we saw her mad,” Kelley grumble, rubbing the back of her head.

“That was because you let Y/n surf in giant waves on her first time out,” Emily snorted, nuzzling her nose into the space behind your ear. Alex smiled softly at the sight of you so relaxed.

“Are you three going to tell the team?” She asked.

“You might have to if you are going to continue playing tonsil tennis in the hallways,” Kelley added, only for Alex to slap the back of her head again.

“We hadn’t really talked about it yet…” You mumbled. Both of your girlfriends squeezed you (Lindsey getting your gains, while Emily tightened the arms she had wrapped around your middle).

“Well, could you wait like 3 days? I have 20 bucks on you three taking until the middle of camp to come out,” Kelley asked, scratching the back of her neck. You rolled your eyes. Of course, they would have bets on you, but you weren’t about to bend over backward for it.

“You knew?” Emily screeched. Kelley cackled nodding wildly.

“You’re not exactly subtle,” Alex laughed. Anyone with eyes could see that you were head over heels for the women and that they were falling just as hard as you were.

*****

The internet fucking sucked. You knew that and found it relatively easy to ignore the mass chatter of the online world, but then again you had never been a part of such a disgusting report by some shady internet reporter.

All you had done was gone to lunch with Shawn Mendes, and someone had snapped a picture. The two of you had become good friends after spending so much time together on the 1989 tour. Now some random reporter was commenting on how you had confirmed your new relationship. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were anyone else, but Taylor’s fandom had blown up the small town reporter’s article.

Now they wouldn’t leave you the fuck alone.

“We’re not going to respond to it,” You huffed, crossing your arms adamantly in front of your chest, effectively pushing your plate of pancakes away. You squinted at the vets sitting across from you, completely baffled why they thought you would take any other route.

Lindsey’s arm around your shoulder righted, while Emily leaned in, almost conspiratorially. “Of course not, but wouldn’t it be fun to send the fans on a little goose chase anyway?”

Your ears perked at that. Taylor’s fans were always so fun to mess with. They made it so easy, particularly because your sister had trained them to always look for clues (that most of the time exist).

“And we have been talking about wanting to come out,” Lindsey added softly.

Your expression soured. You didn’t want to do this as a reaction. You wanted it to happen naturally.

“I don’t wanna do that in response to some asshole who doesn’t understand boundaries,” You pouted.

“But what if we did it our way?” Lindsey and Emily both asked at the same time. It was scary how in sync they were most of the time.

“Like get the team involved, tease the fans. At least show them that you don’t play for Mr. Mendes’ team,” Emily shrugged, trying to act like she didn’t care, but you knew she did.

You couldn’t help but smirk. You did love to mess with the fans.

“If you do wanna mess with the fans, I have the perfect picture” Tobin chimed in, giving you that little push you needed.

Emily raised her eyebrows at the woman, ignoring the glares the rest of the vets were sending her way. “Didn’t see you as a prankster Toby,”

“It’s artsier than anything else…” Tobin grumbled, flipping her phone to show you the photo she was talking about.

It was of you, Emily and Lindsey during a morning hike the team had taken. You were laughing, while both of their heads were tucked into your neck. You were the only one clearly identifiable, but it was clear you were smitten with whoever you were with.

“Ooo, I like that one,” You said, suddenly feeling excited. It was bound to send the fans into a frenzy because you couldn’t see who was making you smile so wide.

Tobin nodded and began typing out the post, before flipping it for you to read and ok. You giggled at the tag line “only those two knuckleheads could get you to smile this wide before your morning coffee”.

“Good?” Tobin asked, and you nodded enthusiastically. It was perfect, and coming out this way- with the help of your team- felt amazing.

“I have one too. You guys are too photogenic,” Christen said, pulling up her phone and begging to scroll through her photos (much like the rest of the team began to do). Were you guys really that obvious? No wonder they had bets going.

*****

Your teammates were having way too much fun. You shouldn’t have been surprised considering how private the women normally were, it must have been nice to get some time sending the fans on a wild goose chase. You were also surprised at how many photos your teammates had taken of you and your girlfriends. And just how many of those photos were perfect for the little game you were playing with the fans.

You could identify yourself on all of them, but Emily and Lindsey weren’t clear at all. But it was plain to see that you were very in love with whoever was sitting next to you.

“Did you see Alex’s picture? It's amazing!” You said, wiggling excitedly between your girlfriends. The three of you had taken a break from the team and decided to cuddle while you watched the fans go insane. (It was honestly one of your favorite places to be).

“Pshhh, no Pinos is totally the best,” Emily snorted.

You pouted. She nudged your side and placed a very sweet kiss on your pouty lips.

Alex’s photo of Emily and Lindsey throwing you into the ocean was totally better than the one of you shoving and chasing your girlfriends with birthday cake-covered hands.

“No, Kelley’s is totally the top picture in the bunch,” Lindsey smirked, nudging your chin with her nose from your other side.

You blinked up at her and looked at the photo of one of your favorite goal celebrations. You had literally leaped into Emily and Lindsey’s arms, but you were at least 3 feet higher than Lindsey’s head in that picture.

You bit your lip. It was a very good picture, one of your favorites actually, but there was one that topped them all for you. “They’re all pretty good, but I think I’ve got the best one,” You said softly, pulling out your phone.

It didn’t take you long to find the picture in question (it also happened to be your lock screen). You were smiling brightly at the camera, the reputation tour stage (lit for the song Dress) clearly behind you, trapped between Emily and Lindsey kissing each of your cheeks. Your girlfriends looked over your shoulders to catch a glimpse of your phone.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Lindsey asked softly. There was no hiding or pretending in that photo. It was open and honest (and a great picture of a fantastic night).

“Yeah, it’s like speak now or forever hold your peace,” Emily added, and you could practically hear her eyebrow raising.

“No, but I don’t wanna hide you two,” You shrugged. It was the balance you sister had worked her entire career to achieve. Hiding away meant that there was no commentary about your relationship from people you had never met (loose lips sank ships after all), but it also meant avoiding the little things that you longed to do in public.

You weren’t sure if you would ever be ready to face the media, but your desire to be with your girlfriends the way you wanted was just so powerful.

“You know we’ll wait as long as you need us to,” Lindsey said, using her thumb to tilt your chin and look you in the eyes.

you nodded, your eyes never leaving her concerned blue ones. “I know but, like-. I wanna be able to hold your hand or kiss you and not have to worry who's watching. I want to be able to take you on dates, and not care about if a camera can see us cuddling. I want to be able to post about how great you looked in a game, or for your birthday. I don’t want to hide,”

During your rant, Emily had wrapped herself around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder and rubbing her hands flat on your belly (which never failed to calm you down).

“We know darling, but once this is done, it can’t be undone,” She said softly.

You threaded your fingers through hers, glancing down to avoid Lindsey’s appraising stare (you never could get anything past them). “I didn’t think you were a Shakespeare fan,” You mumbled.

“I’m full of surprises,” Emily said, kissing her favorite spot just behind your ear. Lindsey cracked a smile too “we both are”.

“I know,” You nodded suddenly serious, as you carefully extracted yourself from your girlfriends and began to type up the Instagram post.

You passed them the phone when you were done, idly twiddling your fingers now that you didn’t have anything in your hands. “I’m gonna do it if you two are alright with it,”

“We’re fine with whatever you choose, we love you and just want you to be comfortable,” Lindsey and Emily both said, rubbing your back and arm respectively in a comforting motion.

“I know, and I love you too. Let’s do it,” you said clicking the button and closing your phone. You didn’t need to watch the comments roll in.

It wouldn’t be until the next morning that you would see your sister had also decided to chime in. And you couldn’t keep the smile off your face at her simple caption- love my sister and her girlies. For sure the best squad ever.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #soran x reader #soran imagine #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift imagine #taylor swift fanfiction

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squeeneyart · 3 years

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Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 24

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger!

Keeping busy makes the day go by.

Martin and Jon discuss household chores.

Martin took great care to not make too much noise as he walked down the stairs. He still avoided the creakiest steps, and down he went as quiet as the house would allow.

He didn’t wonder whether the night before had been a dream. His dreams weren’t like that, so vivid and specific. They weren’t narratives he could make sense of, if he remembered them at all. On waking, he was usually left with the anxious certainty that he had made a horrible mistake or had forgotten to do something important. But that night had been real.

Still, when he made it to the ground floor he peeked in the downstairs toilet to make sure Jon’s clothes were hanging on the shower rod along with the small bag he’d been carrying. Those items were present. What he didn’t find was the seal skin.

Martin continued to the living room door. Curled up into a tight ball, Jon remained buried in the blanket and couch cushions. Martin let loose the breath he’d been holding. He continued on to the kitchen to make his breakfast in silence.

It was nothing to dwell on. Jon must’ve stowed the coat somewhere while Martin was asleep. They hadn’t known each other that long, so it wouldn’t do to keep something so important openly hanging in the shower when Jon had had such a scare with the thing. He’d trusted Martin enough to tell him the truth. It didn’t matter that Jon had squirreled the skin away in the dead of night.

Had Jon believed what he’d said about his mother leaving? Was it suspicious that she was gone?

Toast popped up hot and ready, making him jump. He looked back into the living room, checking if the noise had been enough to wake Jon, but the man was sound asleep in his little cocoon. Perhaps all of the caution wasn’t necessary with someone who was sleeping well for the first time in weeks. Longer, if his habit of calling without any thought to the time was any indication.

He should’ve checked on Jon. Even if he hadn’t had reason to suspect anything it’s what he would’ve appreciated in Jon’s place. Just because he hadn’t felt like making the effort-

Would it have helped, though, if Tim and Sasha were ready to cover things up? What excuse could they have given except that Jon had lost his mobile or switched numbers and hadn’t given out his new one yet? He hadn’t had a real reason to pry into Jon’s business. A barely established friendship didn’t count.

He could have tried anyway. Hopefully letting Jon stay would make up for it, even if there was no bed to offer.

While he wasn’t against letting him use his own bed in theory, Martin knew he was too bloody tall to sleep comfortably on the old couch all night. If things went on long enough it could be discussed, but it was better for both of them to get sleep.

Hers didn’t count.

Thinking that far ahead wouldn’t do any good, so he pushed his mess of thoughts to one side and focused on eating breakfast and scribbling onto a small piece of paper.

‘Jon,

Help yourself to food. Be back in the evening.

-Martin’

Martin considered the note for a moment, then scribbled his number at the bottom.

‘For emergencies.’

What emergencies he could help with he couldn’t say, but he left his number all the same. The chance of Jon having it memorized was slim to none and it wouldn’t have been fair to keep Jon with no contact at all. It was the best excuse Martin could hope for.

He gently laid his plate in the sink in one final attempt to keep the silence, and got ready to leave.

Jon didn’t call him at any point that day. And rightly so, following prior agreements of safety and secrecy. It was fine, no calls meant no emergencies, but as the hours passed it was easy to forget the outside world and its greater goings-on. The window on the front door wasn’t much of a reminder, not with how tiny and far away it was, and not with the crappy weather blocking any light other than what could seep through the endless grey.

The wall clock was placed in an awkward location from where he sat, so timekeeping felt like guesswork. He’d stopped checking the clock often to avoid the disappointment of finding himself only five minutes closer to leaving. It could be any day of the week if he kept his mobile out of sight.

But he could feel lunch time. He could feel when he was to climb the stairs and complete his tasks by muscle memory. And he knew in his bones when he was meant to leave.

In the dark of the evening the timelessness clung to him. It wasn’t until he got to the bottom of the cliffs and saw the windows lit up from the inside of his home that he felt himself settle back into the present. There was a person in his house, and for a while he stood back by the forest path and stared at the little square of light that was his kitchen window.

He felt like an intruder, a spy peering in through his own kitchen window from afar, and it took a particularly large gust of rain-splattering wind in his face to get him moving again.

It was his house. There was just a person in it other than himself.

The smell of cooked food was the first thing he noticed when he walked inside, even before he saw the small and scuffed brown shoes on the rug, or the thin jacket on the end hook he normally used. Something was being cooked, fried, and he spent a minute on the front rug not knowing how to proceed.

From the kitchen, he heard a tentative, “Martin? Is that you?”

“Oh! Yeah, it’s me.” Finally placing the damned coat somewhere, he slipped off his shoes and walked toward the kitchen.

Jon peeked his head through the kitchen doorway, wariness falling from his face as he saw Martin for himself. “Barely heard the door open over the wind outside. How were things today?”

“Fine, I guess? What’s-” Martin looked over Jon’s head and saw a pan hissing on the stove, alongside a boiling pot of water. “What’re you making?”

“Something easy and not made of fish,” Jon replied, heading toward the stove top. “Hope you don’t mind, I used some of the chicken in the freezer and box pasta. Should be enough for the both of us.”

Head running on empty, Martin could only nod and take a seat at the kitchen table, threading and unthreading his fingers in front of him. It felt wrong to be sitting there in his own kitchen without a task, but Jon had already put in the time and effort to make dinner. Still, his hands were painfully idle in his lap.

He said quietly, “Smells good.”

From the stove, Jon raised an eyebrow but kept his eyes on the pan in front of him. “I’d hope so. Can’t go much more basic than this.” He lifted the pan to show breaded chicken frying away.

“Still, it’s nice of you. Thanks.”

“Mm.” He flipped the stove off and went to strain the noodles. “Anyway, now that I’m awake, thank you for letting me stay the night. Hopefully this helps make up for my sudden appearance.”

“It’s no trouble. Would’ve liked more warning, though.”

Jon frowned. “Well… I would’ve called if I could.”

It didn’t feel like a purposeful accusation, but it stung anyway. “Can’t change things now. Speaking of calling, though… Did you want me to get in touch with Tim or Sasha about this? I know you said you wanted to wait until they were here, but I don’t know when that’ll be.”

“No, not yet.” Jon placed a strainer full of noodles back over the pot and leaned against the counter. “Call me over-cautious, but I don’t trust anything traceable right now. I’d considered calling Georgie over your phone line to pass on a message, but I don’t think her going in a second time would fly under the radar.”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Martin said, “So until they get here…”

“Until then, I’d like to stay here. We can explain things to Tim and Sasha, figure out your situation, and then-” His face fell. “I’m not sure what comes after that.”

In the silence that followed, Jon busied himself with assembling two plates of food, turned in such a way that Martin couldn’t see his expression. It was an uncomfortable quiet that ate away at the composure he’d managed to pull together throughout the work day.

When Jon set the plate down in front of him, he jumped in his seat.

Jon’s brows scrunched together. “Are you all right?”

“Just… tired, is all.”

“Right. So-” Jon set his own plate down and sat on the other side of the table, a perfectly natural choice of seating. “We didn’t talk for long last night. I know part of what you’re going through isn’t- it’s not by business, but if I’m going to help then I need to know if you’ve noticed any changes, with the lighthouse or with- with other things.”

Martin stared down at his dinner. It was plain, breaded chicken with noodles. Smelled a bit of lemon and garlic.

“Everything’s fine. Nothing’s changed besides what you already know.”

It was fine. The taste was about what he would’ve expected from the smell, and it was better than anything he’d been planning to make with his remaining energy. It was a nice thing for Jon to do. He forced each bite down through the sting of his throat.

“It tastes all right?” Jon asked casually.

Martin nodded with a raise of his eyebrows, taking another bite of chicken.

“Good. I’m not out of practice.”

After that, the only sounds remaining were those of clinking silverware and the beating of rain on the kitchen window.

It should’ve been nice, but as Martin ate the pain in his throat only grew, spreading through his head and upper chest. It was nice that Jon had made dinner, and he’d kept it simple enough that even Martin could pay it back in the future. Something as tiny as this shouldn’t have made him feel anything other than full. Instead his head pounded behind his eyes.

“You… You don’t have to eat it,” Jon said. When Martin looked up he was met with an expression of mild exasperation. “It’s fine if you don’t like it. I’m not holding you at gunpoint. Though if I’m going to be living here we should probably settle what we each don’t like.”

“What?” God, that wasn’t a pleasant sound, especially with food still in his mouth. Martin swallowed down hard, realized he had nothing to drink, and stood up. “I need some water. You?”

Thrown off somewhat, Jon sputtered, “N- Well, yes, but-”

“Great.” Martin strode across the kitchen and grabbed two glasses from the cabinet to fill in the sink. As he held one under the faucet, he noticed there were no dirty dishes underneath.

From behind he could hear Jon shift in his chair. “It’s really not a big deal if you don’t like it.”

With two full glasses he returned to the table, taking a sip of his own and then setting them both down. “What is? No, right, yeah, dinner tastes fine. Don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Martin, that’s not very convincing when you were just staring at it like it was a lump of mud.”

“I wasn’t-” He took his seat and reached internally for some excuse with no luck. What kind of faces had he been making? Reaching for his fork, he said, “It’s fine. Good. It’s good.”

“There’s something else, then.”

“I… The food is good. It was very nice of you to make it.” His throat went tight and he said no more.

Frowning at his meal, Jon said defeatedly, “Okay. If you say so.”

The rest of the meal passed in silence. If he made any other sour faces then Jon ignored them, and Martin did his best to be more aware of what his eyes and mouth were doing while eating as quickly as he could manage.

It wasn’t soon enough, but he finally finished and put his plate in the sink. God, he’d barely gotten home and was ready to run upstairs and hide away for the night. Was eating dinner with someone always so exhausting? The answer came easily to mind, but this felt worse than meals spent with stubborn silence or bitter exchanges.

Jon had wanted to be nice, and-

“So, we should discuss… things. Not the food-” Jon said from directly behind him, dirty dishes in hand. He inched around Martin to place them in the sink. “-but we need to talk about how it’s going to work, me being here. I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

Martin cleared his throat, taking a step to the side to give Jon some room. “You’re not a nuisance. You didn’t have much of a choice in this, if any.”

“And you didn’t ask to have me knocking in your door. Here, let me-” Jon rolled up his sleeves and got to work scrubbing the dishes.

Martin bristled. “You don’t have to-”

“I’m the one who made dinner.”

Martin’s face scrunched. “I don’t think that’s how it works. You made dinner, so I should clean up.” He watched with some irritation as Jon continued his task.

“Next time, then. I already got a head start this morning.”

An even better reason for Martin to be the one to wash up after dinner, but that ship had sailed without him apparently.

“Look, I’m-” He pushed through the tightness in his chest. “I’m glad you’re here, all right? Better than you getting eaten by a shark or something.”

Jon squinted at him. “So… we’re fine?”

“What? Yeah, ‘course we’re fine!” In spite of everything, a laugh crept into Martin’s voice. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

A troubled look crossed Jon’s face. “No, you’re right. The last few weeks got to me I think, not seeing people.”

With some hesitation, Jon continued, “If it makes you feel better, I’m glad to have something to do.” He paused, sudsy glass in his hand. “Sitting around all day doesn’t come naturally to me, and I’ve been all but useless for weeks.”

Ah. Martin felt the indignation seep out of his jaw and shoulders, leaving him rather deflated all of a sudden. All that bristling on his part and Jon had only been bored to the point of doing chores.

“That’s... not your fault,” Martin replied quietly. He leaned back against the counter top and tapped his fingers on the rounded edges. “But okay. Sorry.”

Resuming the job at hand, Jon kept his eyes down and stayed quiet. There wasn’t much to wash off of the plates, but he was diligent in scrubbing down the frying pan until not a speck of grease remained. His fingertips began to prune.

Eventually, he spoke up. “As I was saying before, we should talk about me staying here because of situations like this. If you have… particularities with housekeeping, I should know.”

Martin rolled his eyes. “It’s not a- whatever, do what you like. I suppose it’s better to live with someone who keeps clean.”

“As much as the average person,” Jon said, rinsing off the last bit of soap from a plate. He reached out to grab a hand towel. “Don’t expect me to always be this eager for chores.”

“What, is the excitement wearing off already?” He’d been aiming for a light, teasing tone but ended with dry judgment.

“You know me, always looking for the next thrill,” he deadpanned.

Martin leaned back on the heels of his hands. “Jon, you’re a professional ghost hunter.”

Jon tossed the towel back onto the sink. “I am not. I research the paranormal and complete necessary field work.”

“By looking for static in recordings and breaking into buildings.”

“That’s not- your situation is a special case. I assure you, my regular days are based almost entirely around paperwork and fact-checking.” He walked into the living room and with a scowl plopped onto the couch. After a moment his mouth untwisted into a small frown. “They were, anyway.”

Martin followed behind and looked at him, looked at the lines on his forehead and under his eyes, at his bouncing knee. He looked better than he had the day before, but it would take more than a single good night to make up for weeks of wandering and disconnection. Another apology sat behind his own lips, but he let it die as the useless thing it was.

There was one thing he could help with. Walking over to the ancient desk in the corner, he picked up a bulky old laptop from the drawer and brought it over to the couch with him. “Probably should’ve mentioned it in the note, but I do have wi-fi. Technically.”

The laptop was old. He’d bought it for himself years back but with the weak signal he got it wasn’t easy to deal with, and in his mind the very concept of social media was never going to work for him. So, it was largely a clunky and underused alternative to his phone. It sat heavy on his lap and he remembered why he rarely bothered with it.

Jon’s eyebrows shot up, and he scooted closer on the seat. Voice dripping with relief, he said, “I’m shocked you can get a signal down here.”

The sudden proximity made Martin’s heart skip. He opened the computer on his lap and focused on the screen. “Mind you it’s not good wi-fi, but it should help pass the time. Still has a disc drive as well.”

It took far longer than he would’ve liked for the thing to boot up, but against all odds it reached the desktop with its default background and sparse folders. He really hadn’t done much with the thing, had he? Perhaps when everything was done with he could sell it.

For the time being, though, Jon was clearly itching to get his hands on it, so after a quick check that it still connected to the internet he passed it over.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that he immediately hopped onto a site for sifting through journal articles, but Martin stifled a laugh. Whether pushed by professional diligence or personal interest, Jon was too engrossed to notice.

With a small sense of accomplishment, Martin pushed himself onto his feet and moved toward the hall. He made it halfway across the room before he was noticed.

“You’re not going to bed already.”

The tone of the sentence sat between incredulity and a statement of fact, and it gave Martin pause. When he glanced back, Jon was still looking at the laptop screen.

“I mean… no, I was just going to get into pyjamas?”

“Okay. There was a short documentary on architecture I found when I was still doing research at my flat. It might be helpful to our ends.” He typed something and made a face. “It might also be complete bunk, but I should be able to track it down while you’re upstairs.”

It was enough of a dismissal that Martin could only say, “Oh. Um, all right?” Then he left the room in a hurry, as he apparently had things to do that night.

Back upstairs he went with a new if unexpected purpose to change out of his work clothes, still skipping the loudest steps as best he could.

Around the time he’d managed to slip on some flannel pyjama pants and an old t-shirt, tears had leaked from his eyes and then ceased almost immediately. There were no sobs to choke back, just streaks of warmth on his cheeks that dried as quickly as they’d formed.

He rubbed his face with the back of his hand, grateful that his eyes wouldn’t be red and puffy, and then walked back downstairs.

#tma #the magnus archives #breathe in the salt #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #sasha james #timothy stoker #peter lukas #jonmartin

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devildom-diaries · 4 years

Note

The idea of mc being a gen z is just *chefs kiss* 👌🏻 can you imagine the bros just walking in the kitchen at 3 am just to find mc making chocolate pudding for everyone 😂

Hmm. You know what, I think you’re onto something here anon... 😼

Sidenote; whenever i hear the words ‘chocolate pudding’ my mind immediately goes to that one scene from the Cinderella II movie (please tell me that at least ONE of you knows what I’m talking about 🙃 )

The brothers react to MC making chocolate pudding at 3 am

Lucifer

- Wut in tarnation is going on here

- “MC, let me get this straight... you are up at this hour concocting some chocolate based substance at three o’clock in the morning because ‘you are AnXiEtY’ ?” ... make it make sense

- This really can’t be good for your sleeping schedule, but he is not in the mood to deal with your antics right now

- “Fine, I’ll excuse your strange behavior just this once. But if you let me catch you pulling a stunt like again, I’m going to have to intervene.”

Mammon

- Says that he “just so happened to walk into the kitchen” but he was definitely searching for you around the house after he wasn’t able to find you in your room

- Bugs you every 2 seconds trying to sneak a taste and- MAMMON I SWEAR TO FUCK I WILL ADD YOU INTO THIS MIXTURE AS AN INGREDIENT IF YOU DON’T BACK UP

- Instant puppy dog eyes because he really wants to try some, but he can’t exactly eat the dessert if he is the dessert

- Pouts and sulks in the corner until you give him his pudding AND complimentary head-pats

Leviathan

- Was pulling an all nighter, binging his most current anime, when he all of a sudden started to get tired - but SCREW THAT HE NEEDS TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE NEXT EPISODE

- Headed towards the kitchen to get some DevilBull to boost his stamina when..

- { insert spider-man pointing meme here } “What are you doing up so late at night?!”

- Tries to seem uninterested in what you’re doing but keeps looking over at you: “It’s not like I want any or whatever!! But if you decided to give me some, I wouldn’t say no...”

Satan

- Well this is strange ؟؟؟

- When he showed up to the kitchen, to make himself a soothing cup of tea, the last thing he expected to see was you dancing around the room, cocoa powder in your left hand and a whisk in your right

- Can’t tell if this is actually real life or if he’s just hallucinating..

- Simply states: “I am not dealing with this right now, I’ll see you in the morning” and DIPS

Asmodeus

- “MCCCCCC... the bed is so cold without youuuu. What are you even up to so late at night?”

- “If you wanted to do something this late I could’ve given you something better to do” ;-)

- Puts his head on your shoulder as you stand over the stove, resting his eyes (because we all know how important beauty sleep is to Asmo)

- Takes advantage of your distracted stance and takes a good whiff of you because nothing beats the smell of pheromones

Beelzebub

- Are y’all really surprised? I mean he was probably in the kitchen way before you even showed up lol

- You are his SAVIOUR

- No really, he truly believes that you must be his fairy godmother, because just when he was wishing that somebody would make him something to eat *POOF* you appeared

- You made this for ALL of the brothers? Nah that’s his now, so have fun with that

Belphegor

- Woke up to the sound of clattering pans and utensils in the distance (despite popular belief, he’s actually a pretty light sleeper. He just pretends to stay asleep for longer in order to avoid everyone else’s bullshit 🙂 )

- Quietly watches you while you work because he is a good boy...

- Him being so well-behaved definitely has nothing to do with the fact that you’re stirring a pot of boiling chocolate, which could be flung at him without warning, if he were to be a salty little brat right now

- Makes you spoon feed it to him because wow how convenient he’s all of a sudden “sleepy” again ( liar )

#obey me #obey me!#om!#obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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scvrllet · 3 years

Note

If you're still doing these, could I get a 🎫 concert ticket for Harry Potter and Once Upon A Time?

Glad to have found your blog!!!

I'm Lucifer, but people call me Luci or Luce, I'm 21 (22 in September), I identifiy somewhere around the nonbinary category, but I see gender as something trivial. I'm a panromantic demisexual and prefer they/her pronouns. 6'3 tall, long wavy blonde hair, black eyes. I wear glasses and usually skirts with old band t-shirts (that I actually listen to).

I always have a bunch or rings around my fingers as well as multiple ear piercings. I'm super pale, to the point that people often ask me if I'm sick.

I'm introverted, but I can be a social butterfly if required. I love listening as much as talking. I never really talk about emotions/feelings but anything else I'mhappy to chat about. I don't really react to things apart from my facial expressions. The lift of an brow, a smirk or an eye-roll will let you know how I feel about things without verbal confirmation. I'm always calm and collected, and my voice stays monotonous no matter what ; I don't stutter, yell or scream.

I'm highly intelligent and very sarcastic, and rarely laugh outloud, but smirk a lot. I might come across as rude and blunt but on the inside I am a softie, just don't show it often.

I love literature (especially classic), arts and learning languages (I currently speak 18). I'm also musically very inclined. I study History and mythology. When it comes to hobbies, I read and collect lots of things things such as lighters, tarot cards, night lights, rocks/crystals and books.

I have four siblings and am the oldest, but I don't really keep in touch with my family that much. I have a few good friends (2 or 3) and I don't even really need much more.

I'm a Virgo, Slytherin and INTJ-A if that tells you anything.

I'm not athletic in the least, but am in good shape. My body is an hourglass figure and I also got a bunch of tattoos.

I have a bad habit of smoking, and usually having a glass of scotch or wine with me (but I never get drunk or even tipsy). I love spending time near water, but hate getting wet. I usually take long walks outside after midnight while listening to creepypastas or true crime podcasts. I love the genre horror overall, yet I rarely get scared. The only thing I'm scared of is being scared if something. And Santa Claus (<-- no idea as to why).

If I were to go on an ideal date, it'd hopefully be something original and not the cheese classics, but I wouldn't mind them either. I just want to experience new things.

I don't really celebrate holidays (e.g. Christmas, Ester) since I was raised in an atheist/witchcraft household.

If I still might add something, when it comes to relationships I'm never overly dramatic. I don't, as previosuly mentioned, yell or really even cry. I don't get frustrated or suspicious easily. If I see any inclination that my partner might be e.g. cheating on me, I ask them about it directly and will absolutely under no circumstanses go through their phone, computer or start stalking them.

You wanted 3 random things, here :

1. I can't cook shit, I have set spaghetti on fire, cracked a pan in half and blown up a microwave.

2. I'm very unpredictable, but at the same time I like to stick to certain routines etc.

3. I've had my hair dyed more times that I can count with more colors than I know how to name.

Uhhh, I think that's all? I hope you have a good day :)

(🎫) CONCERT TICKETS - get a platonic or romantic ship/match-up from the fandom of your choice (max. two) along with a shirt headcanon

JOIN MY 4K FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

I ship you with....

Peter Pan

- Arriving on Neverland, in hindsight, was a mistake. Magic beans while very reliable were prone to mistakes every so often and so instead of appearing in the Enchanted Forest, you were on the beach of a large island. And what was the most odd of all, was not the strange feeling you felt upon arriving on the island, but the pair of eyes you could practically feel staring at you from the trees. Hoping that it was just an animal of some sort, you walked off the beach and headed to the path through the forest.

- Unfortunately for you, the feeling lingered, following you almost as you walked through the forest. Tall trees lined the path and every once in awhile you’d see some small animals scurry away. What seemed to stand out the most however were the silhouettes standing off in the side, deep within the trees but standing right below the sunlight for you to see clearly. There was four, than five, than six than......only one. Looking at your surroundings, you saw your footprints in the ground before you and it hit you. You’d been walking in circles the whole time and the silhouette was still there.

“Hello?” You called out, not sure as to whether or not the silhouette really was there.

Without a verbal response, the figure disappeared only to reappear a few feet in front of you.

You jumped back in shock but quickly regained your balance as you studied the person before you. It was a boy, looking to be around your age, with a questioning look on his face as he looked at you. “Who are you?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I asked you first!”

“And I’m in charge of this island!”

“You? In charge of an island? What is this Neverland?” You rolled your eyes at the possibility. Neverland was a place made up so that kids could fall asleep. Not a real place that you could visit.

“Yes it is, and I run things around here so tell me, who are you.” The boy replied, emphasizing his last three words as he spoke.

“As if, what’s next? You call your little Lost Boys to come prove to me?” You scoffed. To believe that you were on Neverland was already too much and all you wanted was to get home to the Enchanted Forest but it seems you’re stuck playing pretend with a boy who doesn’t want to grow up. A shame really

Smirking, the boy simply pressed two fingers to your forehead and before you could even say something, your mind went foggy and your vision was filled with black.

- To say you got off on a rough start was an understatement. The two of you were constantly at each other’s neck while he kept you on the island, the camp specifically, and didn’t let you leave due to belief that you were a spy of some sorts. Not that he had anything to hide. Not yet at least.

- As time went on however, the two of you had begun to form a friendship. It wasn’t anything big or odd, but it was definitely new. He’d be less of an ass to you and let you explore the island on your own (with some exception).

- Upon finding your out about your hobbies, he would discreetly try to surprise you with materials to help you engage in them even if Neverland’s magic still had some restrictions. He would still try to the best of his abilities.

I also ship you with....

Blaise Zabini

- Losing was one thing Blaise never took lightly. Competitive he was but even with his ambition and skill, it was the mundane things that revolved around luck that often made him lose. Like the stupid bet he made with Theo on whether Gryffindor would win or lose where the loser would have to make a full four course meal complete with drinks for all the Slytherins in their year. Unfortunately for him, he had lost unlike Gryffindor and now here he was, spending his Saturday afternoon in the kitchens and a cookbook Pansy had given him “to help”.

- Blaise didn’t know what he’d see upon entering kitchen. He was sure to see a few House Elves, perhaps he could ask them for help, but what he didn’t except was to see you standing in front of the stove with a pot spilt cleanly in half somehow and a fire burning below. And to make matters worst, you were simply standing there as if you had been frozen.

“Hey watch out!” He called out as a flame went up towards you. Pushing you out the way just in time, he managed to save you from the burn in return of him getting burned.

“Fuck.” He hissed out in pain. Gripping his arm as he put out the fire with his wand before dropping it on the ground.

Without a word, you simply grabbed your wand and waved it above his burn. You seemed to be muttering something, a spell of some sort, as a cooling sensation covered his wound. Looking down, he was shocked to see that the burn was actually healing.

“How, how did you.... Thank you.”

“I was practicing a charm, fire control, but thank you for the concern.”

Feeling sheepish for thinking that you didn’t have it under control, he ended up excusing himself from the kitchen to head back to his dorm where his friends immediately pounced on the chance to tease him for a variety of reasons.

- The next day, instead of going to Hogsmeade with his friends, Blaise stayed back at the castle to catch up on a paper he had failed to submit on time. Deciding on going to the library, sh was disappointed to see that almost all of the tables were taken. All but one in the far back corner. Quickly heading towards it, a sigh left his lips as someone dropping their book bag into the table beat him to the table: you.

“Oh did you need the table? I can leave if you’d like?”“ You said upon noticing him standing in front of the table.

“No, no it’s alright I just uh, planned on finishing a paper for Flitwick’s class.” He admitted.

“You can have a seat if you’d like, I’ll just be doing my own work and you can do yours.” You kindly offered and Blaise gladly accepted. He really need to finish this paper or else he’s be kicked off the Quidditch team so while he didn’t get the complete privacy he originally wanted, he’s fine with this.

As the two of you worked in quiet, occasionally Blaise would sneak glances your way which you ended up catching once.

“Hi.” was all you managed to muster out as you tried to contain the wide smile that wanted yo grow on your face.

Trying his best to not chuckle at your slightly flustered state, he mirrored your smile as he replied with a “Hello.”

#you didn’t mention romantic or platonic so i just made it platonic #long post #jens record shop #jens 4k follower celebration #(🎫) concert tickets #marvelousluci

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thelordofdarkreunion · 3 years

Text

Magnificent Scoundrels- Seat of the Citadel

One last faction intro story, in which Shepard finally tells the Council what every Mass Effect player has ever wanted to tell them. Unless someone specifically requests otherwise, or it is needed later, I won’t have any more “faction intros” as I’ve been writing them. Next up is the meeting of the different governments. As usual, I own none of these characters. Enjoy the story.

(A note on timelines: This takes place slightly more than halfway through the events of Mass Effect 2)

Mass Effect Galaxy

The Citadel, Capital of the Citadel Council

The Citadel. The beating heart of galactic power. A glimmering jewel of elegance and culture. An utterly massive 45 kilometer long space station, constructed by the long-extinct and highly advanced Prothean race, it was the capital of the aptly named Citadel Council, the galaxy spanning federation that ruled most of explored space.

Discovered by the Asari in the human year 580 B.C.E., it had since remained the center of galactic power. Open, airy, and utterly magnificent, it was a menagerie of elegant futuristic-style architecture and open water features. Its beauty was unmatched by any other place in the galaxy; not the often conflicting human architecture of Earth, nor the sweeping elegance of Thessia, nor the simplistic, yet sturdy nature of the Turian or Salarian homeworlds. Truly, it was a place unlike any other.

Commander John Shepard sat in an elaborate waiting room at the base of the Citadel Tower, the large structure that housed the chambers of the Council itself. Above was an artificial sky of brilliant blue. Blossoming cherry trees were dotted around the large room in large pots, their blossoms adding to the Beautiful fountains trickled slowly, the sound of running water meant to calm and soothe visitors. Shepard was anything but calm. In fact, he was, to put it rather mildly, pissed off.

The Council had done absolutely nothing in the two years while he had been dead. He warned them of the coming of the genocidal synthetic race known as the Reapers, but, no, they apparently preferred the illusion of safety and calm instead of shoring up defenses and preparing for a war that was almost certainly coming. Goddamn bureaucrats.

Now, it was even worse. There were nine new galaxies out there, and all of them had it together. He shuddered as he remembered reading the briefings and documents provided by his various new colleagues. Council will probably want to ignore that, too. Goddamn bureaucrats, he repeated to himself. And what did the Council do? Invited them all over as if they were all newly discovered species. As if they were peoples who newly discovered space flight, expected to be cowed by the might of the Council, instead of pan-galactic empires.

Goddamn bureaucrats.

“John. God to see you.” Shepard looked up sharply as someone called his name. He visibly relaxed when he saw who it was.

Captain, now Councillor, David Anderson walked towards Shepard, a smile on his face. Dark skin, a flat nose, and short cut hair highlighted an elegant but simple suit; the clothing of a Councillor. Anderson was Shepard’s mentor, old captain, and still older friend. Still more, he was the only of four Councillors that Shepard fully trusted.

“It’s good to see you too, Anderson,” said Shepard, rising from his seat to shake his hand. Anderson made a ‘follow me’ gesture, and the two started to walk through the extensive lobby.

“The information you sent me was quite helpful,” remarked Anderson. Shepard rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick he’d picked up from somewhere.

“Ah. Yes. Well, my new colleagues are a bit… bizarre,” Wasn’t that the understatement of the century? Really weird and slightly insane would probably be better. “But, they are quite helpful.” Especially if you want something very, very dead. Anderson nodded in response.

“I’m sure.” He glanced around the room, noting several Salarians hovering near a doorway. “But the walls here have ears. All part of the political game,” he sighed. “Let’s take this conversation to my office.” Shepard couldn’t agree more.

Anderson’s office was, again, simple yet elegant, as a Councillor’s office should be. Smooth walls and a large window, overlooking the Presidium, highlighted a maple desk. Sitting on top of the desk, next to endless reports, was a single picture of Anderson wearing dress blues on his naval graduation day. Anderson slid into the chair (with wheels, of course; humans in this galaxy weren't savages) and gestured for Shepard to take a seat opposite him.

“Some of this data is, to put it bluntly, quite concerning,” opened Anderson without preamble. He touched a button on his desk, and a hologram sprang to life, displaying three symbols: a blue triangle with a minimalized rocket taking off on it, a black and white six-spoked circle, and a double-headed golden eagle. Of course we’d start with those three. “These three in particular. Tell me about them.” He glanced at a data pad. “The, uh, Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation, who sound a lot like if the Alliance was ruled by Cerberus, and the Galactic Empire and Imperium of Man, who,” this was accompanied by a slightly incredulous chuckle, “Sound like some nightmare governments from a bad movie.” Shepard rubbed the back of his neck again.

“...yeah. Sure. I… how should I even start,” he rubbed his neck again, “The IMC is what you think would happen if a super-corporation gained enough power to rule humanity, the Galactic Empire took power after a Galactic Republic kinda lost a horrible war.” He still wasn’t 100% sure about the politics from that particular galaxy. He shrugged, then continued. “But, uh, both of those governments are on the decline. Their opposite, more freedom-loving numbers have recently beat them back. It’s the third one that’s the problem.” Anderson shot him a look that clearly said ‘explain’. “You see… well, how should I put this…” He frowned as he considered what to say. “The Imperium of Man makes Terra Firma look violently pro-alien.” Terra Firma was the System Alliance's resident human supremacist group. Often compared to the Nazis of old, they were uncouth, brutal, and, above all, close minded. Anderson’s eyebrows shot up at this comment. Shepard rubbed his neck once more. “Yeah. No slurs or racial barbs for these guys.” Shepard leaned in closer to Anderson to get his point across. “One of their mottos is, and I quote, ‘Suffer not the alien to live’.” Anderson cradled his head in his arms.

“Oh, God. And we invited them to the upcoming first contact talks.”

“Yep!” replied Shepard with slightly more relish than was actually necessary. It would be a real shame if xenocidal zealots murdered the Council (maybe), but perhaps it would be a good thing if they shook things up a little. Certainly, if Cain was anything to go by, they weren’t all bad.

“How are the other three going to react to all of this?” moaned Anderson, head still in his arms.

“Not quite sure,” replied Shepard, “Although, this time, it’s all politics, so the illustrious Commander Shepard isn’t going to be able to save their collective asses, like I’ve done the last five or six times.” His face took on a pensive look. “Although, maybe this will actually get them to listen about the Reapers…” Anderson and Shepard’s thoughts were broken by a blue-skinned Asari, who politely knocked.

“Excuse me, Councillor Anderson. The Council is ready to see Commander Shepard,” said the Asari. Anderson sighed and slowly shook his head.

“Well, duty calls. This ought to be interesting.”

The Council chambers were much like the rest of the Citadel: utterly beautiful with a simple and refined elegance. Too bad such a wonderful room was squandered on the walking wastes of oxygen that were the Council. At least, that was Shepard’s opinion. He didn’t have much liking for politicians, and most definitely had no liking for these three in particular. He looked up at the podium where the Councillors stood. At least they bothered to meet in person this time.

There were three Councillors, excluding Anderson, each from a different species. The Asari, a graceful, elegant monogendered race of blue-skinned women, the Salarians, a short lived but extremely intelligent race of amphibians, and the Turians, a militaristic race descended from avians. Humanity was the most recent addition to the Council, a move that many seem to resent, but thanks to Commander John Shepard saving the Citadel and the Council it housed, a move that no one could oppose.

“Commander Shepard,” began Sparatus, the Turian Councillor. “While we appreciate being given information about these new galaxies,” this was inflicted by a measure of sarcasm, “Some of this seems quite hard to believe.” ‘Just like the Reapers’ remained unsaid, but everyone was thinking it. Shepard sighed inwardly. It’s going to be one of these meetings.

“Yes. You went off on your own, chasing some message, and just sent this data back. Explain yourself,” said Tevos, the Asari Councillor. Anderson looked like he was about to intervene on Shepard’s behalf, but was interrupted.

“Some of this seems highly unlikely. First you come up with Reapers, a race of immortal sentient machines hell-bent on killing us all, now this!” intoned Valern, the Salarian Councillor. Shepard struggled to keep a straight face.

Calm down! said one part of his mind. Explain to them what’s happening out there! Tell them what you’ve seen. Getting angry will get you nowhere.

Or will it? asked another part. They didn’t listen about the Reapers, despite being attacked by one, they didn’t listen about your involvement with Cerberus, preferring to label you a terrorist. They haven’t listened to you about anything. Maybe anger will help you! Besides, continued to voice, it's not like you couldn’t find similar employment elsewhere. The Scoundrels trust you more than these idiots ever have. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would pay top dollar for someone like you.

“You know what? I’m sick of this bullshit,” said Shepard. “I am goddamn sick and tired of this bullshit. You can believe whatever you want to believe, despite evidence to the contrary. I have never lied to you. I saved your lives. I saved the Citadel. I died for you!” he thundered. The Councillors seemed rather taken aback. “Yes, still, you don’t heed my warnings! You don’t follow my advice, even though I have not once lied to any of you. You sit, on your comfy chairs, trying to keep a peace that will most definitely be shattered. You do nothing because it is simply more convenient to ignore reality,” he hissed, words dripping with venom. Spartacus bristled.

“How dare you-” Shepard whirled around to face him.

“Shut. The fuck up, Sparatus.” The calm in Shepard’s voice was deadly. The Councilors blanched. No one’s ever talked to them like that before, I’d guess. He would have laughed if he wasn’t in mid-rant. “Apparently, what I gave you was good enough to invite all of these governments over for peace talks. All of them. You also apparently trusted myself and my new colleagues enough to give them these invitations, instead of contacting these governments directly.” Which was probably a wise move, in the long run, considering some of the reactions would have been ‘piss off and die’ if the invitations weren’t hand delivered by galaxy wide heroes. Were they invitations? Or… treaties? What was a document inviting someone to a peace talk called? Shepard shook himself out of his tangent and continued.

“Also, it seems you trust eight unknown people more than you trust the Spectre who has never lied, saved your lives, and died for you. Have I missed anything?” he spun around to the room, arms outstretched theatrically.

“Fine then, Shepard,” said Valern. “You are dismissed. Apparently,” he threw the word back in Shperad’s face, “Our top intelligence gatherer isn’t loyal to us anymore. Other Spectres or the STG can take care of finding out what we need to know.” Tevos and Sparatus looked apprehensive at their colleagues's dismissal. While they might have been bureaucrats, they knew Shepard was one of the best Spectres and intelligence agents they had. Shepard gave a laugh; a full throated hearty laugh.

“Oh, yeah. Have fun with that. Have fucking fun with that. Have fucking fun sending the STG or some lone-wolf Spectre against people who have entire armies of super-soldiers at their disposal and who can legally destroy planets*. Have fucking fun.” He sneered. “This is now the intelligence game you’re playing. You aren’t in complete control anymore.” Shepard crossed his arms and looked up at the Council. “So, only one question remains: do you want my help or not? ‘Cause if you don’t, there isn’t much point in me staying, is there?” There it was: the ultimatum was out. Would they back down and realize that Shepard was their best shot, or would they allow their emotions to get in the way? Honestly, it could probably go either way. Spartacus shot a look at Anderson. Anderson replied with a ‘hey, not my problem’ stare. Tevos cleared her throat.

“It seems we have been remiss, Spectre Shepard.” Shepard let out a breath he had been silently holding. While he would have made good on his threat, this was his home galaxy, and he wasn’t particularly sure he wanted to be working for someone like Crossgrow or the Inquisition. “As you are the only one who has had contact with these people, please give us your opinion on how we should handle this situation.” Shepard was sure it had probably physically hurt the Council to say that. He dismissed the thought and returned to his duty.

“First thing first: you have to present a united front. You can’t disagree with each other. Second, all of the species’ representatives should be here.” Before anyone could make an objection, he continued. “All of them. Definitely the client races.” The Council had four races as members, but many more that were under their jurisdiction and not full members. Many of those races were trying (and, for the most part, failing) to get a seat on the Council itself. It wouldn’t do if the more open minded government, such as the Federation or GA, came to the Citadel, then saw the Council treating other races as less than equals. “Even some of the other races who aren’t officially part of the Council, if you think you can control them.” Shepard paced the floor.

“In addition, you should probably beef up the Citadel fleet. Send in more ships. Turian, Asari, Alliance, I don’t care. We need as much security as possible, and some of these governments will be impressed by shows of force.”

“Yes… we shall think about this,” replied Tevos. “Your input will be helpful. Please stay on the station during the talks.” Shepard nodded, then came to a realization. Oh, hell. The first meeting of all of these governments is only slightly more than a week away. This was going to be interesting. Or deadly. One of the two.

*ONI can call on Spartans, ISB has Death troopers, and the Inquisition has the Grey Knights and the Deathwatch. In addition, ISB helped to create the Death Star and has sway over Imperial Navy battlegroups, enough to bombard a planet into uninhabitable-ness, and the Inquisition can enact Exterminatus. Shepard and the rest of the Scoundrels would know about all of this, except for the Grey Knights.

#magnificent scoundrels #stroy #my story #writing #my writing #crossover #fanfic #mass effect #mass effect 2

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derireo · 4 years

Text

steambun - all troupes

HELLO . . . finally it is complete

"I'm not gonna lie," Itaru said as he strode in with Tsuzuru, mug in hand, "but this is kinda depressing."

Izumi groaned in annoyance at the small verbal jab and squinted her eyes shut, twitching uncomfortably as a chill went up her spine. As much as she loved her Spring Troupe members, she'd punch them all in the throat (except for Sakuya, Masumi, Tsuzuru, and Citron).

"Didn't get the memo, did you?" Izumi griped. "That's the theme for this week's bedroom deco contest."

Tsuzuru sighed and set the tray of sick foods he had down on her desk, smiling.

"She's talking, at least."

Izumi had enough strength to roll her eyes and grumble when Itaru set the mug down on her desk to help her sit up against the headboard, nearly baring her teeth at the two-faced man as he poked his tongue out at her.

"Sakuya and Masumi went to school, right?" The director asked nervously. When Masumi heard that Izumi wasn't feeling well, the boy burst into her room just as Itaru was placing the back of his hand on her forehead. The scene playing in front of Masumi almost made him bark something Itaru, but Sakuya quickly came in to hold him back by the arm.

To make matters worse, Itaru placed his finger beneath his eye to pull down the skin a little as he stuck his tongue out at the teenager, the hand that was on Izumi's forehead now cupping the side of her face.

Masumi was so enraged by the blatant affection Itaru was taking for granted that Citron also had to physically pull him back by his other arm, Sakuya crying out in the background that they had to quickly get to school.

Tsuzuru sent Izumi an empathetic smile as he sat down on the side of her bed, Itaru slinking back to plop himself onto her desk chair.

"Yes, don't worry." Tsuzuru had to get Citron to drag Masumi out of the dorm and drag him to school, but it was fine. The young foreign man did it all with a smile on his face despite Masumi growling at Itaru as Sakuya was basically crying with stress at this point.

"Did you really have to send that boy into a frenzy, Itaru?" Her helpless expression made the office worker smile to himself as he shook his head. His leg was casually crossed over the other while he stirred the tea that was cooling in the mug he brought.

Tsuzuru took the bowl of yogurt from the tray once he sat down on her bed, and lightly mixed in the drizzled honey with the strawberries and blueberries that were put in. The sound of metal clinking against porcelain made Izumi slowly zone out, only for her trance to be broken by a winded Citron.

The foreign (prince?) troupe member stood in the doorway with his hands on his knees, hunched over. His breathing was weak, but the smile on his face was still the same.

"Masumi is very strong." Citron laughed. "He ran back to the dorm halfway. I had to drag him to school."

Itaru glanced at the watch on his wrist, seemingly impressed, "All in a span of half an hour. Not bad, Cits."

With a smile, Citron bowed his head and slinked onto the end of Izumi's bed. His sigh was full of relief when he went to lie down on his back with his arms crossed beneath his head.

"He hit me in the face as well." Citron's sigh sounded happy.

"Excuse me?" Izumi turned her face away from the spoonful of yogurt Tsuzuru was trying to feed her, causing him to sigh as well. The concerned frown on the director's face made Itaru roll his eyes, and he took a sip of the tea that was reserved for Izumi to mask his annoyance.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it, but his elbow got me." Citron said as he stared up at the white ceiling with his tongue soothing inside the cut skin of his cheek, smile still planted on his face.

Izumi let out a breath and fell back against the headboard, letting Tsuzuru feed her the spoon of yogurt and fruit when she made sure Citron wasn't hiding away any serious pain.

"I'm going to have a talk with him." She closed her eyes for a brief second to soothe the ache she was feeling, but opened them again when Itaru nudged her shoulder, holding the mug up to her lips.

"You're going to be doing nothing." Itaru said, ignoring the squint Izumi was shooting him.

"I'll talk to him when the kids come back." Tsuzuru patted the back of her hand and smiled, Itaru nodding in agreement while Citron was already closing his eyes from exhaustion.

"Just think about getting better first. I'm not letting Masumi into your room until then." Itaru casually waved his hand and smiled after Izumi took a long sip of her tea. He leaned back into his chair when Tsuzuru went back to feeding her yogurt, and he gave Citron a quick glance.

The man was out like a light.

"When I find the energy to move again I'm gonna beat you." The director murmured under her breath. Tsuzuru put the bowl down on her desk with a slight smile and slapped the back of his neck with a laugh, moving to stand up to move away from the dark aura surrounding the director.

Itaru merely smiled.

"Oho? I'd like to see you try, Klutz. I've got height and weight over you." The gamer smiled as the university student shuffled out of the room, empty bowl in hand. Citron snored quietly.

Izumi was fed up with the teasing at this point and could only silently fume as Itaru helped her finish the rest of her tea, the soothing liquid heat helping her sore throat.

After she was done, Itaru put the mug down and took the liberty to climb over her body and take up the spot beside her, his smile cheeky as she looked at him with disgust.

"You just take a nap, now," he cooed, helping her go back to her lying position, "I'll keep watch and play my games."

And, very helpless, Izumi closed her eyes to the faint sound of a mobile game starting up and the soft rumble of Citron's breathing.

Let's just say when Masumi came back home barging into Izumi's room to check up on her, he wasn't very happy when he witnessed Itaru's arm just casually wrapped around her shoulders as he watched some video on his phone.

Sakuya had to hold him back again.

"Oh no," Izumi wheezed softly from where she was hiding under her blankets, "please don't let the kids see me in this state."

Misumi pouted at the scene in front of him as he sat in Izumi's desk chair while Kazunari sat criss cross at the edge of her bed.

"I'm sure Muku is worried though." Kazunari said with an uncharacteristic frown. All of the teenagers were sitting outside of Izumi's room from what he could remember, but Muku was near tears when they weren't allowed in due to the request of their director.

Yuki was quietly grumbling to himself in annoyance, but everyone would be able to tell he was concerned with how he was wringing his hands in his lap. Tenma kept running his hands through his hair to keep his cool.

"Shouldn't they all be at school right now?" Izumi groaned. It's not she didn't want the kids here with her, but their education was much more important. Misumi and Kazunari would be able to take care of her if they didn't get distracted, and they were already doing just fine with the bowl of chicken soup and bottle of water.

Kazunari shrugged as Misumi patted Izumi's face with a cold wet towel, the fabric cooling down her sweaty skin.

"Will onigiri help cheer you up?" The ball of sunshine was pouting when he asked the question, and it pained Izumi to say that it wouldn't do much to help her get better.

"It's not a good food to eat when sick, Misumi." She sniffled, closing her eyes once the cool towel met her neck.

"I think we also have some baked salmon from last night," Kazunari suggested with a thumb pointing back to the door, "I can get one of the kids to warm some up for you."

The sound of hurried feet scuffling along the floor and down the hallway after his pause was so perfectly timed that it made Kazunari bite back a smile.

"Oh! The salmon has lemon juice and ginger on it, that's good to eat, right?" Misumi's bright eyes blinked curiously as he wiped the sweat off from Izumi's collarbones and neck, and she nodded with an affirmative smile. Her sigh was full of bliss as the cold towel effectively cooled her heating skin and she closed her eyes, letting Misumi wipe her down with gentle pats.

The boys in the hallway were loud as they looked for the salmon in the kitchen and it made Izumi thankful that Sakyo wasn't home at the moment. There were pots and pans clattering at some point which shouldn't be happening, and while Kazunari and Misumi wanted to check what was happening, leaving Izumi alone while she was like this didn't feel like a good idea.

With all of the strength he could muster with his awkward position on the bed, Kazunari helped Izumi sit up against the headboard with some assistance from Misumi who carefully wrapped the towel around their director's neck.

Not too long after did Tenma clamber into the room with Muku following suit, Yuki casually striding in despite the heavy breaths coming out from his nose.

Their unapologetic expressions had Izumi gently knocking her head back against the headboard with a slightly disappointed smile that still held the essence of adoration. She didn't want to confess, but she really loved these kids.

"Home delivery." Tenma half-sang in a nonchalant manner and held out the plate of food for Kazunari to take while Misumi giggled at the three students who were now awkwardly standing in the middle of Izumi's room. Yuki scoffed at the cheesy words coming out from the orange-haired boy and crossed his arms while Muku looked like he was just barely holding himself back from leaping onto Izumi's bed.

The director was barely able to lift her head again to look at the trio standing there, but she made sure her smile was able to be seen by them.

"I'm sure home delivery knocks before they enter." She teased them, but motioned for Kazunari to take the food from Tenma's hands.

"Yeah, well," Yuki rolled his eyes, "it's not like we're strangers."

Izumi laughed softly despite the scratchiness in her throat and turned her head towards Misumi who was holding her half-consumed chicken soup with curious eyes. He held the rim of the bowl to her lips and let her take a long sip at the slightly salty broth, only pulling away when he heard her gulp and let out a refreshed sigh.

"You boys should be going to school." She scolded them right after, peering over the shoulder of Kazunari when he scooted closer to her to hold up a warm scoop of salmon in his spoon.

It was Tenma's turn to roll his eyes.

"We're all late already, there's no point in us going now." He waved his hand dismissively as Muku began to crawl onto Izumi's bed with wide, watery eyes.

"Are you really okay?" Muku asked once he reached Izumi's side and held her hand in both of his, kneeling beside her as Kazunari happily fed their director her big breakfast.

She stared back at the pink haired boy, helpless as he held her hand to his chest with a concerned frown. Despite him being sixteen, he was still a baby in everyone's eyes.

Izumi couldn't help the urge and weakly tugged on Muku's hand with a soft sigh, letting the young boy flop into her side with a flustered squawk. He stared up at her with those wide eyes again and she shook her head silently to keep him from saying anything else. As much as she loved Muku, she always felt weird when he referenced a shoujo manga cliche whenever she did something.

"I hope your parents don't get contacted by your schools." Izumi sighed again, shivering just the slightest at the thought of having to deal with the sweet parents of the kids. She didn't mind Tenma's parents not calling her, but she really wanted to emphasise on how important education was.

"Can you let us care for you for one second?" Tenma let out an exaggerated groan and flopped onto the end of Izumi's bed while Yuki sat beside him with pursed lips, checking his nails as he quietly agreed with the high school student.

"She is." Kazunari laughed and fed Izumi some more salmon after Misumi had excitedly fed her the last of her soup.

And despite worrying about the younger Summer Troupe members, Izumi almost forgot that Kazunari also had class today. When the university student noticed the flicker of realisation in her eyes, he quickly scooped another spoonful of salmon into her mouth before she could say anything and poked the tip of his tongue out playfully as he winked.

She could get mad at him later.

"I told you," Sakyo pinched the bridge of his nose, "you should've gotten out of the rain when I said so the first time."

Izumi was currently wrapped up in a blanket in bed, with a cold, wet towel splayed across her forehead. Her lips were pouted as she sniffled, and the hands that were clutching onto the sheets twitched when Sakyo sighed in exasperation.

Taichi, who was sitting on the floor by the side of the bed pouted too. "Be a lil' nicer to her, won't you?"

Banri was laying beside Izumi when he hummed a sound of agreement, his elbow propped up on the bed with his head in his palm. His free hand came down to fix the towel that was slipping from Izumi's heated skin, and he frowned when he saw her eyes bleary with unshed tears.

"I just wanted to be in the rain." Izumi grumbled despite not being able to see through the wetness pooling in her eyes. Her eyes were burning and getting a little itchy, but she wouldn't dare touch her face at this moment. It would only hurt more.

"You can enjoy the weather even when you're inside." Sakyo sighed again, and he took a seat on the chair that was untucked from her desk while he crossed his arms. His gaze was unyielding, but her sparkling eyes made his heart squeeze just a little.

"Leave the poor girl alone." Omi chided as he stepped inside her bedroom with a breakfast-in-bed tray in his hands. There was a bowl of congee sitting in the centre, and with what Izumi was able to see as Banri helped her sit up while the food was set in front of her, there were strips of chicken and a few quail eggs inside.

Banri sat behind Izumi, her back gently pressed to his chest as he held her up this way. A warm, strong arm was curled around her waist as his legs were bent at the knee, avoiding knocking over the tray. With his unoccupied hand Banri held the towel that cooled Izumi's face, and cradled her head in the slope of his neck as he pressed his cheek to hers.

Juza had pushed himself off the wall to sit down on the other side of the tray to receive the bowl that Omi was holding up with a saddened expression.

"Thanks, Juza." The man with the scar clapped the Ouka High student on the back. "I've got to meet up with some friends soon. Make sure you boys keep Sakyo in check, alright?"

All the teenagers squinted their eyes at the man in question, causing him to scoff in annoyance. They all looked at each other after and nodded in agreement, to which Izumi and Omi smiled in approval.

"Take care." Omi waved at everyone in the room after planting a gentle kiss to Izumi's temple. The director lightly knocked her head into his chin to return the affection, and had her hair ruffled before he left the room.

Sighing, Izumi let Taichi take her limp wrist between his fingers and cupped her hand against his cheek to receive the heat that was radiating off of her in waves.

Tentatively, Juza began to scoop small spoonfuls of the congee into Izumi's mouth after a little coaxing from the woman. He seemed a bit flustered to be feeding her despite the fact that she had no energy to feed herself, but Banri threatened to take the bowl away when the blue haired boy still hesitated.

Izumi hummed in appreciation as she took in spoonful after spoonful of the rice porridge and made an especially sweet noise when she received a quail egg, her fingers twitching against Taichi's cheek.

"You can leave if you've finished nagging." Taichi said, voice uncharacteristically blank as everyone all of a sudden turned their heads to Sakyo.

The blond bared his teeth and let out an incredulous scoff, his arms unraveling from their tangled position to run a hand through his hair and put the other on his hip.

Banri laughed out loud as Izumi pinched the artificial redhead's cheek to punish him, but all four kids at the bed poked their tongue out at Sakyo as he stared at Izumi helplessly, the girl still sticking her tongue out at him.

"Bye." Juza waved his hand at the only adult (Izumi didn't count) in the room and immediately went back to feeding their director.

"Come back when you're feeling nice!" Izumi called out softly as Sakyo huffed and turned away to hide his amused smile, exiting the room with a small wave.

The four that were left in the room giggled and chuckled to each other once the eldest member was nowhere to be seen. Now that they were slightly more comfortable with Sakyo and were used to his prickly attitude to most things, they found that it was easy to tease the man without making him truly upset.

Juza continued to pick up where he left off with feeding Izumi, and silently revelled in the way their director's eyes lit up whenever he fed her a delicious piece of shredded chicken or a soft quail egg. Even though her mouth was preoccupied with eating, it was easy to tell that she was happy with how her eyes were smiling at him.

There wasn't much to talk about between the four considering Juza and Banri avoided having a conversation with each other most of the time, and it looked like Taichi was about to fall asleep with how Izumi was caressing his cheek with the gentle swipe of her thumb.

Slightly bothered with how casual Banri was with tucking his head against the spot where Izumi's shoulder connected with her neck, Juza deliberately ignored him and went back to scooping the congee into the young woman's awaiting mouth.

And despite all the younger troupe members being in her room, Izumi had come upon the realisation that it was a school day for all of them.

And they weren't at school.

"Don't you guys have class?" She frowned and looked between Juza and Banri who were all of a sudden glaring daggers at each other while her thumb continued to give gentle caresses to Taichi's cheek to keep him dozing.

There was a scoff from Banri as he rolled his eyes, "Yeah, so?"

Then it was Izumi's turn to copy his actions.

It was one thing for them not going to school, but Sakyo not saying anything at all? Now that was something different.

If Izumi had enough strength in her body, she would be nagging just like Sakyo about the importance of school and how skipping wasn't going to help them much with how low some of their grades were (save for Banri, that genius).

"Normally I'd say something," Izumi sighed in disappointment and knocked her head against Banri's as punishment for his previous response, "but I'm tired. Let me finish eating and then I'm gonna take a nap."

Banri pouted at this as Juza grunted and fed Izumi another quail egg to console her upset self.

"I really hate when you kick us out of your room." Banri grumbled unhappily and tightened his arms around their director's waist in a stubborn attempt at staying with Izumi. She only rolled her eyes in response and parted her lips for the last scoop of congee to go in her mouth, and with a satisfied sigh, licked her lips.

"You guys are so clingy, seriously." She scoffed and watched as Juza put the wooden breakfast tray on her desk with the bowl before he mumbled something to himself and pushed Banri away until he was hissing and scooting away from Izumi. Helplessly, she let her body be moved around until she was lying back down on the bed and with an approving rumble coming from Juza.

Immediately after, Taichi was dragged and put onto the edge of the bed by the high school student to let him nap more comfortably.

Once that was done with, both Juza and Banri made the move to lie on each side of Izumi and curl around her body protectively.

Again, helpless, Izumi could only let herself be coddled by the younger troupe members with a sigh.

Juza was especially brave this day and stared Banri down as he curled his arm around her midriff first and tucked his chin onto her shoulder with a smile curving onto his lips, "Try complaining again after you've had your nap."

"You poor thing," Azuma mumured as he sat at the end of Izumi's bed, "this is so sad."

Tasuku side-eyed the former professional cuddler with crossed arms as he stood by the doorway with his lips curved into a frown. Some of the other members had woken up to the sound of Izumi coughing in her sleep and in her awakened form, so Tsumugi and Azuma went to check in on her first.

Tasuku was already awake by the time Tsumugi shuffled out of her room with a worried expression, so the flowerboy kindly asked him to watch her with Azuma.

"She's really warm." Hisoka said as he cuddled up to Izumi's side. There wasn't a hint of worry or anxiousness in his voice, but the fatigued man had a light palm checking her forehead's temperature with sleep laden eyes.

"I feel cold." Izumi sniffled sadly. She wasn't desperate for the cuddles coming from Hisoka, but she was thankful he didn't care enough about catching whatever she had if latching onto her wasn't enough to say so.

A sigh was heard coming out of Tasuku's body. He didn't really know what to do at this point other than watch the director alongside Azuma and Hisoka, but they were equally as useless. The long haired man didn't seem to want to get closer to Izumi, while it almost looked like the marshmallow boy was smothering her.

Homare was bound to come into the room soon, spewing out a litany of words and metaphors no one would understand. The only ones who could really stand to deal with his poems would be Izumi, Azuma, and maybe Juza and Muku.

Unfortunately, out of those four, half of them were in one room together.

"My dear director!" Homare practically kicked the door open with a bundle of papers in hand. "I've written some poems to help cheer you up."

Another sigh from Tasuku. The serious actor pinched the bridge of his nose with both index fingers as he folded his hands together and closed his eyes.

Thankfully, Tsumugi walked in at just the right time with a bowl of oatmeal in his hands and a cold wet towel draped over his arm.

"Please leave the poem for after she's done with her meal?" Tsumugi grimaced and made sure Homare set his notes down on Izumi's desk, sitting on the side edge of the bed by the director's legs. He handed the cold towel to Hisoka who helpfully (?) put the cooling fabric around Izumi's neck after assisting her in sitting up against the headboard.

"Azuma, can you please get the mug of tea I left on the kitchen counter?" Tsumugi asked while looking apologetic at the silver haired man.

Azuma smiled with a nod of his head and immediately straightened up to leave the bedroom, his hair flowing prettily when he got out the door. A frown made its way onto Tasuku's face as he strode close to where Tsumugi and Homare were sitting, arms crossed.

"I definitely recall telling you to come inside last night," the former God Troupe member quietly scolded Izumi, and the girl pouted before Tsumugi scooped some of the slightly sweet oatmeal into her mouth, "but you stayed out longer than you should have."

Izumi grumbled at this, her arm trapped in Hisoka's embrace while the other was too weak to lift up and point a finger at the man who was squinting his eyes down at her.

"Unlike some people, I know how to enjoy the midnight breeze." She harrumphed and turned her head so that she wouldn't have Tasuku in her sights, only to have her chin tipped back by Tsumugi so that he could feed her more of her oatmeal.

"And look where that got you." Tasuku scoffed at the stubborn girl in front of him. She was fiercely glaring at him despite the sickly complexion of her skin and it only made the former God Troupe member shake his head and step away.

"Oh, leave the girl alone." Azuma chuckled as he strode back inside the room with a hot mug of tea in his hand. "She has a point. The midnight breeze is quite calming."

The silver haired man set the mug down on the desk by Homare's papers and stood beside Tsumugi to give the young woman a gentle pet to her hair.

Grateful for Azuma making Tasuku back off, Izumi tilted her head in the direction of his hand as Tsumugi made an 'ahh' sound, another scoop of the sweet oatmeal coating her tongue when she mimicked the sound.

Amused by the sweet gesture, Azuma brushed his thumb against the girl's cheek while she was fed another spoonful of her breakfast.

Tasuku was helpless when it came to the gentle scolding of Azuma and he went back to his spot by the doorway, sulking. Tsumugi laughed into the crook of his elbow as he watched, and stood up from the bed after Izumi finished her oatmeal, motioning for Azuma to sit down in his spot so that he can help her finish her tea.

Silently, Homare was reciting the poems he had written for Izumi under his breath, tapping a pencil against his lips whenever he fell deep in thought. Hisoka was still in deep sleep beside the director, and his arms were like strong bands of steel around her waist as he pulled her closer to the centre of the bed. Her surprise was hidden behind her tired expression, but she bit her lip in worry when the tea sloshed around in the mug the long haired man held.

Azuma smiled kindly and took the last sip of her tea with a wink, reaching out his hand to once more caress her cheek before leaving the room with the empty ceramic in his hands.

Quietly, Izumi moved her arm the best she could to hold her hand out. Homare looked at her questioningly.

"I'll read them to myself. I wouldn't want to disturb Hisoka." She whispered in her hoarse voice. There was no room left for debate as Homare looked at Izumi with wavering eyes and nodded despite himself, sending a reassuring smile her way as he handed the thin pieces of paper to her and made his exit, leaving only a sleeping Hisoka and a frowning Tasuku in her room.

Resting the pile of papers on her chest, she waved her hand weakly, motioning Tasuku to come back.

"Don't look so upset," she laughed, "come here. I'll read you Homare's poems."

The frown was still on his face when he approached the bed, but he didn't object to the offer. He climbed onto the empty spot left on her bed and made to lie down on his side with his elbow propped to hold his head up. His body was right next to hers as he helped her lie back down, and she held the poems close to her face since she couldn't hold them any higher.

The warmth from Hisoka and Tasuku made Izumi's cold sweats go away and she happily recited the poems in a low voice, glancing up at Tasuku every now and then to share her amusement with him as the frown on his face slowly melted away into something more softer and dazed. He watched her from above, with her head lying in the blank spot between his arm and torso.

Eventually, Izumi fell asleep to the lull of Tasuku's voice as he read the next few poems with a straight face, his free hand brushing through her sweaty fringe.

192 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

TLTNL- EXCESS OF PHLEGM

"Remus, can I speak to you." James snapped before Harry could even think of passing the book along, his tone in no way implying that as a question.

Remus got to his feet slowly and dragged his feet to the hallway, he'd been expecting this, and was almost happy at the delay Lily caused.

"James, I can fight my own battles," she snapped at him, eyeing Remus with more worry than anything as he trudged off. Considering everything that had been going on, it hadn't even crossed her mind to hold any of his comments against him.

"I'm not daft enough to think otherwise," James agreed, flicking his eyes to her and smiling for a moment before going for the stairs himself. "I'd still like a word with him."

Sirius followed as well, and Lily and Harry exchanged wary looks before going into the kitchen and prepping an early lunch.

He may have been expecting it, but Remus was no more pleased to be hearing from these two than they clearly were trying to ask him what his problem was. He hadn't meant to make it so plain there at the end, and bitterly regretted he had such a hard time hiding his emotions around here.

The two exchanged a look before James launched off, "What has gotten into you lately? Picking fights with Lily? Snapping at everyone for the stupidest things? I'm sorry Dumbledore's been acting like a prat lately with everything going on in Harry's time, but you're driving me nuts Moony!"

Remus almost wanted to smile. Prongs had left him perfectly open to either vent about this lesser, though still pressing agitation on his life, or correct him. He considered the first for several moments before finally stating, "Acting a prat? James the man's gone off the world and left the lot of us to rot! The best part is, he's pretending like he hasn't!"

Sirius watched him steadily beat out his rant, and wished he could say more. He couldn't though. He knew Remus looked up to Dumbledore, his idol. To hear of all the things he'd done would be hardest of all on him, like Harry realizing the true nature of the Marauders last year. The difference was they couldn't Floo Dumbledore, ask him to make them feel better about ruining Harry's life, their life.

When Remus was finally done he slumped back against the wall, looking utterly exhausted, but finally one of the lines creasing his face faded away for getting it all out.

"I know Moony," was all Sirius could think to say.

"You should really chat with Harry," the look on James' face made it perfectly clear of the double in there. Of course he could just mean Remus could go to Harry and talk to him about Dumbledore, only those two had such a close connection to the Headmaster and could understand each other...or anything else, like they needed to.

Remus didn't disagree, but he was almost afraid to as well. Afraid that he'd say the wrong thing to him, again. Terrified Harry's promise was wrong, that he vanished from that teenager's life, or worse, that he stayed and only made things worse like he was now. He couldn't bring himself to say this to either of the people he most wanted to though, because they had more of a connection to Harry than he'd ever had a claim to. He wouldn't put anything more in between any of them, this was a problem he had to deal with on his own.

They came back in to find Harry and Lily having a lively discussion about Slughorn.

"I mean, who decides to turn down a job by faking being attacked?"

"Obviously Dumbledore wasn't there to take no for an answer, I can see Slughorn doing something so drastic," Lily said peaceably as she stirred a pan on the stove.

Harry was at the table cutting up some vegetables, by hand of all things, and didn't even seem to notice their entrance with his back to the hallway. He was just as busy keeping Hickory from stealing carrots from his pile as he was chatting with his mother.

"How did Dumbledore even know where Slughorn was, he was on the run and hiding from Death Eaters? And of all things, how did Dumbledore know he was a chair? And how did Dumbledore know he was faking all that? He never even told me why we were there at midnight, I wouldn't want someone popping in on me at that time either."

"I can't begin to imagine what goes through either of those men's minds," Lily sighed with exasperation, dumping the sauce into a pot and giving it a sharp crack with her wand, causing some red wine to start pouring into the mixture as well.

"The least surprising part was that he tore the house apart in less than two minutes, and how he was still trying to put details up as we were walking in-" Harry froze as he went to pass the vegetables to her and saw the others. He didn't even seem sure what expression to make, so settled for an uneasy smile, eyes still flickering to Remus and away just as much as the other two now, guilt heaviest of all he couldn't do anything right by anyone.

"You think he'll ever run out of questions?" Sirius asked as he plopped himself into the chair nearest Harry and kicked his feet back on the table, leaning the chair back.

Easily breaking all tension when Harry gave an already knowing smile, and didn't have to wait for the show his godfather had started.

Lily didn't even glance over her shoulder, merely sent a tripping hex instead and causing him to topple over.

Sirius made several colorful statements as he got himself back to his feet and then harangued Lily about her enforcing such archaic rules. The other three were too busy laughing at them all through the meal to even consider such things as awkwardness, especially as they all got so easily pulled into it themselves.

They went back to reading with the first bit of pleasantness they had all day, and Remus didn't even consider it as he took the book from Harry to begin. He knew he'd have to confront the larger problem, soon, but for now he'd take the blessing of his friend doing what he always did, giving him more time.

Harry and Dumbledore approached the back door of the Burrow, which was surrounded by the familiar litter of old Wellington boots and rusty cauldrons; Harry could hear the soft clucking of sleepy chickens coming from a distant shed. Dumbledore knocked three times and Harry saw sudden movement behind the kitchen window.

Mrs. Weasley's voice could neverosly be heard telling them to declare themselves.

As soon as Dumbledore said who it was, the door opened to reveal her.

She greeted them with surprise, Dumbledore had warned they wouldn't be here until morning, but Dumbledore explained Slughorn had been more persuadable than expected.

"He didn't even want them there!" James balked. "What in the world was his plan involving till sunrise?"

"I'm, grateful, we didn't have to find out," Lily said slowly and not as if she really meant it, it certainly would have been fascinating to hear of more of his other plans that didn't involve Harry being such an enticing return.

Then he greeted Nymphadora.

"Tonks is back!" Sirius cheered at once.

"I can't wait to hear what she was up to," Remus agreed with a cheerful smirk, clearly not able to kick that good mood out now that Sirius had put it in here.

Harry looked around and saw that Mrs. Weasley was not alone, despite the lateness of the hour. A young witch with a pale, heart-shaped face and mousy brown hair was sitting at the table clutching a large mug between her hands.

"What happened to her pink hair?" James pouted. "I liked that."

"Maybe she just got back from business and hasn't even realized she'd like to change it back," Lily shrugged.

Harry thought she looked drawn, even ill, and there was something forced in her smile.

All of them frowned in concern for that. None of them even knew her that well, not even Harry really, but she'd been a little bright spot all of the last book and it was genuinely depressing to hear of even more sobering things going on in this future to someone they so normally would have called cheerful.

Certainly her appearance was less colorful than usual without her customary shade of bubble-gum-pink hair.

She quickly excused herself, thanking Molly for the tea and sympathy.

"Sympathy for what?" Lily muttered, catching on that word and wishing to pull the girl aside herself and have a friendly chat if she could.

Dumbledore asked her not to leave on his account, but she really insisted she couldn't stay,while not meeting his eyes.

"Oooh, what kind of tiff is going on there," Sirius demanded with a touch more interest than was called for. He'd really liked hearing of Tonks and if Dumbledore was yet another obstacle in another person's life, he'd really start struggling not to start acting like Moony earlier and gripe at this mans every doing.

Molly invited her to dinner this weekend, Mad-Eye and Remus would be there.

Sirius let out a righteous bark at once, before jabbing his finger into Moony's face, "aha! You are coming back around, so I don't want to hear another word out of you whining about this!"

"Is this only when I'm in the actual chapter, or just in general you don't want to hear me, because frankly I won't be accommodating either," Remus said with such a stupid smile in place it ruined his sarcasm. He'd honestly convinced himself so much that he'd fall back out of Harry's life without another mention, coming over for a dinner was the best news he'd yet heard.

Harry smiled along with the others for this, but he had a funny feeling in place as he kept that smile. He suddenly wondered if it wasn't Dumbledore, but someone else Tonks was trying to

avoid. Mad-Eye seemed the most likely of those two, being fellow Aurors...right? What could they be fighting about though? Then he pushed the whole thing off, telling himself to stop thinking about things so much, it was likely nothing at all Tonks couldn't work out for herself.

Insisting otherwise, Tonks hurried past Dumbledore and Harry into the yard; a few paces beyond the doorstep, she turned on the spot and vanished into thin air.

"The apparition spot was out by the broom-shed?" Harry questioned.

"You can have it two separate places, the entrance and the departure," Lily explained.

Harry noticed that Mrs. Weasley looked troubled.

Dumbledore chose to leave as well, parting with Harry and telling Molly â€˜your servant,'* before following Tonks, vanishing at precisely the same spot. Mrs. Weasley closed the door on the empty yard and then steered Harry by the shoulders into the full glow of the lantern on the table to examine his appearance.

Molly turned to Harry and first noted how much he'd already grown since she'd last seen him, then asked if he was hungry. Harry agreed he was starving.

Lily made a little tisking noise of disapproval, well remembering Harry saying how little he'd eaten before now and it was his own doing that time. At least he hadn't carried that in here.

As Harry sat down, a furry ginger cat with a squashed face lumped onto his knees and settled there, purring.

"Crookshanks is back!" Sirius cheered with just as much enthusiasm as he had for Tonks, at least a cat couldn't depress him!

"Are you going to do that for everyone who turns up at the Burrow?" James asked curiously.

"I might," Sirius sniffed.

Harry asked Hermione was here as well while happily tickling Crookshanks behind the ,ears.**

Mrs. Weasley agreed she'd arrived the day before yesterday, rapping a large iron pot with her wand.

"Err," Lily couldn't help but say with some general concern. "I know I brought this up your last Christmas, but does Hermione ever spend time with her parents?"

Harry merely shrugged. He'd just been happy to spend the majority of his holiday with both of his friends, he hadn't questioned it farther than that. Ron had sometimes to ask a question about Muggles in general, but Hermione never really spoke about her parents, well, anymore than he did the Dursleys.

It bounced onto the stove with a loud clang and began to bubble at once while she continued everyone else was in bed.

She tapped the pot again; it rose into the air, flew toward Harry, and tipped over; Mrs. Weasley slid a bowl nearly beneath it just in time to catch the stream of thick, steaming onion soup.

James couldn't help but make a little humming noise, that was one of his favorite dishes.

She waved her wand over her shoulder; a loaf of bread and a knife soared gracefully onto the table; as the loaf sliced itself and the soup pot dropped back onto the stove, Mrs.

Weasley sat down opposite him.

She asked him about Slughorn, but Harry had his mouth mostly full of soup and merely nodded. She went on to explain he'd taught her and Arthur,

"I didn't know that," Lily blinked in surprise.

"Kind of fascinating, when you realize how many life spans teachers influence," Remus muttered for himself.

and had been at Hogwarts at least as long as Dumbledore. How had Harry liked him?

Harry shrugged and gave a noncommittal jerk of the head.

She agreed she understood that, he could be charming, but wasn't to everyone's taste. He'd never even given Arthur the time of day, hadn't seen him as much of a highflier.

"Shows how good Slughorn's stupid talent really is," James scoffed.

Just went to show even Slughorn made mistakes. She didn't know if Ron had told him yet, but Arthur had been promoted!

James was the only one not immiedly happy at this, and that was just because he was still making a funny face at having said the same thing as Molly. This was genuinely wonderful news! The man had deserved it long before now!

It could not have been clearer that Mrs. Weasley had been bursting to say this.

"Well I can't really blame her," Lily agreed cheerfully, "I'd be just as bad if my husband even bothered to get a job." James widened his eyes with a look of pure innocence while the couple exchanged a loving smile knowing they would indeed be just as proud, James had certainly not shut up to the only three people who would listen any time she did...well anything.

Harry had at that moment swallowed a large amount of hot soup, searing the inside of his throat, which possibly lead Mrs. Weasley to think his tears of pain were for this.

Sirius did start snickering hysterically at this.

She went on to explain Scrimgeour had opened several new offices to help recent circumstances, and Arthur was now heading the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects.

"Much more of a mouthful than his old title," James said in surprise.

"Sounds to me like he's dealing with all kinds of things now, not just Muggle Artifacts, so I'm sure he's more than pleased," Remus agreed.

It was a big job, he had ten people reporting to him now!

Sirius let out a low whistle in surprise, and further concurrence.

Harry asked what exactly that was, and she explained he helped manage artifacts that people kept trying to pass off as real items to protect, when in fact they were more often than not cursed things for a quick buck. He was more busy than ever, and it was silly to miss his Muggle rubbish.

Sirius had been reading with more interest than anything, up until the very end, where he couldn't help but snicker.

"Honestly, it's as if the man can't have a hobby," James agreed lightly.

Mrs. Weasley ended her speech with a stern look, as if it had been Harry suggesting that it was natural to miss spark plugs.

"You mean it's not?" Sirius demanded. "What on Earth has my life come to!"

"More spark plugs, apparently, and I can't disagree you need them to the head," Remus smirked.

"Thank you Moony," Sirius nodded along, "that's just what I wanted to hear."

Harry asked if he was still at work, and she uneasily agreed he was, and in fact running late.

She glanced to her clock, which showed all nine Weasleys on each hand, all of which were pointed to mortal peril.

James had to fight very hard against a surprised snort of laughter, and only just managed it from the fear stopping his breath short. What did that mean?! Was it because Harry was there? Surely not!

She noticed his staring and told it had been like that since You-Know-Who had been out in the open.

Lily tried to release a breath like that was somehow reliving news, but it wasn't all that convincing, they all had the same expression in place like they'd been thinking the same thing.

She couldn't check if it was only her family, she didn't know anyone else with a clock like it- She cut off in surprise as they watched Arthur's hand moved to traveling, and moments later, home.

She moved to the backdoor, but kept it shut to make sure it was him.

He agreed it was, but pointed out he'd say the same if he were a Death Eater. She still needed to ask the question.

"At least some families practice that," Remus gave a surprised laugh.

"Just because we don't do it at every door doesn't make us lax," Sirius rolled his eyes at him.

Remus failed to point out the Order seemed to disagree after losing another of its members.

After some exasperation she asked him what his dearest ambition was, and his response was to learn how airplanes stayed up.

Lily couldn't help a surprised giggle at that, finding more each passing time he spoke how much fun Arthur would likely have interrogating a Muggle if he had more of a chance.

She made to open the door for him, but apparently he was holding the other knob, as he refused to let it go until he asked what did she like to be called when they were alone?

All three boys made little ugh noises of entirely not wanting to know that, and Harry even almost went so far as to plug his ears before Sirius just got it done with.

Even by the dim light of the lantern Harry could tell that Mrs. Weasley had turned bright red; he himself felt suddenly warm around the ears and neck, and hastily gulped soup, clattering his spoon as loudly as he could against the bowl. It did nothing to help him hear the answer.

Lily offered a reluctant smile amidst all of the boys muttering how much they hadn't wanted to know that, "well, I'll give the man credit, no Death Eater would likely think to ask such a thing."

"Doesn't mean we wanted to know," Harry stated, as red faced in here as he was then.

"They're not meant for you to know, Arthur doesn't know you're there yet," James reminded.

"Then I'll happily pretend like I never found out," Sirius grumbled before moving on loudly.

He finally allowed the door to be open, Mrs. Weasley saying in exasperation she didn't know why he insisted on going through that every time he came home. If he were a Death Eater, he would have just blown down the door, not bother impersonating anyone.

"The point of it is to think up questions and answers they wouldn't think to ask in that scenario," Lily wisely endowed to Harry's suddenly uneasy look.

He nodded, but the thought hadn't been what if Mr. Weasley was right, it was the act itself he couldn't shake off. He didn't want to imagine what he would have told someone to save the life of another being tortured, the idea was too horrible to consider even as he forced his mind to ignore the echoing screams from a memory he hoped he was misunderstanding.

Arthur reminded as a Ministry employe, he needed to set an example for their kids. Plus, what if he really had been a Death Eater.

"His kids are all apparently asleep, who's he setting an example for?" Sirius snorted.

"And Merlin help those two if Molly answers that around their kids too," James agreed.

He smelt the onion soup then and looked hopefully towards the table, where he finally spotted Harry.

The two greeted each other cheerfully before he went into some details about work, like someone selling Metamorph-Medals. A thousand disguises for ten Galleons!

"A shame we can't really have something like that," Harry muttered, it would make his Transfiguration classes a lot more smooth he was sure.

All that really happened when they were put on was turning orange and sprouting tentacles, as if St. Mungo's didn't have enough to be getting on with.

Lily scoffed in further disgust of people, depressed this was more news than something she'd had plenty of time fixing herself on her time off.

Mrs. Weasley hesitantly said that sounded like the kind of thing the twins would do.

"They would never," James defended at once. "Even in school they knew when not to mess around."

Lily just rolled her eyes at him. Molly was just being a concerned mother, and Lily could think of several instances where they'd been idiots, and practical idiots.

Arthur at once said they were doing no such thing, they knew better.

Molly caught Harry yawning then and sent him off to bed,

"Aww," Sirius muttered in genuine disappointment, he was rather enjoying hearing about Arthur's job.

he'd be staying in the twins room.

"Why?" Remus asked in concern at once.

Harry asked where they were.

"Oh, I meant what's wrong with Ron's room, but that works too," Remus muttered.

She told they were sleeping above their shop in Diagon Alley, they apparently needed to with how busy they were.

All of them beamed at the thought, though unsurprised. This was by far the best thing a Potter had ever invested in!

She really hadn't approved at first,

"Didn't approve," Sirius repeated with an eye roll, finding that far too low brow for her trashing their things and telling them at every opportunity what wasted potential they were.

but they did seem to have a flair for business.

Harry called a goodnight to Mr. Weasley as he followed Molly upstairs, glancing one more time at the clock, all nine hands now back to mortal peril.

Lily couldn't help nibbling at her lip again, glancing fearfully at Harry and away with more questions for this poor family that she knew he couldn't answer.

Fred and George's bedroom was on the second floor.

James couldn't help but to start bouncing eagerly in anticipation, he'd been wanting to hear details about the twins room since he'd first heard of Ron's!

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at a lamp on the bedside table and it ignited at once, bathing the room in a pleasant golden glow. Though a large vase of flowers had been placed on a desk in front of the small window, their perfume could not disguise the lingering smell of what Harry thought was gunpowder.

"A memorable entrance indeed," Sirius blinked in surprise before they all started snickering.

A considerable amount of floor space was devoted to a vast number of unmarked, sealed cardboard boxes, amongst which stood Harry's school trunk. The room looked as though it was being used as a temporary warehouse.

"It probably is," Remus agreed.

Hedwig hooted happily at Harry from her perch on top of a large wardrobe, then took off through the window; Harry knew she had been waiting to see him before going hunting.

"Aww," Lily cooed, smiling over at their own bright orange screech owl, Click, who more often than not chose to live off of the owl treats than hunt.

Harry bade Mrs. Weasley good night, put on pajamas, and got into one of the beds. There was something hard inside the pillowcase. He groped inside it and pulled out a sticky purple-and-orange sweet, which he recognized as a Puking Pastille.

"Hopefully not a sign of the rest of this book," James muttered, remembering several nauseating times already from Harry's past.

Smiling to himself, he rolled over and was instantly asleep.

Seconds later, or so it seemed to Harry, he was awakened by what sounded like cannon fire as the door burst open.

"I think Ginny realized he was there," Sirius couldn't help but tease, though the tiny little girl fawning over Harry had been replaced with the formidable fifteen year old telling his godson he wasn't leaving without her in that forest in his mind, so the joke held no weight.

"Be fair, Hermione's been known to attack hug him as well," James chuckled while Harry ignored them both.

Sitting bolt upright, he heard the rasp of the curtains being pulled back: The dazzling sunlight seemed to poke him hard in both eyes. Shielding them with one hand, he groped hopelessly for his glasses with the other.

He blurrily demanded what was going on, while a loud voice shouted they hadn't known he was here so early! Then Harry got a sharp blow to his head.

A girl reprimanded Ron not to hit him.

"Honestly, this really is a kind awakening, you don't want to know how these two have gotten me out of a bed," Remus rolled his eyes at Harry's face, a mix of pleased at his friends again and severe agitation with such an abrupt awakening.

Harry's hand found his glasses and he shoved them on, though the light was so bright he could hardly see anyway. A long, looming shadow quivered .in front of him for a moment; he blinked and Ron Weasley came into focus, grinning down at him.

They asked how he was, and Harry said never better while rubbing the top of his head.

"A much kinder response than I've ever given," Sirius chuckled.

Harry asked what time it was, and Ron said just past noon, their mum had only just told them he was here.

Hermione asked how it had been with the Muggles, had they treated him okay?

"Just brushing right past he's hardly gone to bed then," Lily shook her head, but found that a relevant enough question she didn't blame Hermione. They hadn't exactly been keeping better hours around here anyways.

Harry said same as usual, he hadn't really spent much time there thankfully.

Hermione, was scrutinizing Harry as though he was sickening for something. He thought he knew what was behind this, and as he had no wish to discuss Sirius's death or any other miserable subject at the moment,

"I can not blame you," Sirius said extra loudly to emphasize he wanted the same.

asked if he'd missed breakfast?

Ron promised a tray was coming up for him, then asked what he'd really been up to.

Harry didn't get it, and Ron told him to stop messing around, he'd been with Dumbledore!

"That always sounds far more exciting than it turns out to be," Lily shook her head.

Harry told that they'd only been getting a teacher out of retirement, and Ron looked disappointed as he began they'd thought- then Hermione gave him a warning look and he finished they'd thought it would be that.

"Well he's gotten much better at that picking up on things," James laughed.

"Getting a teacher out of retirement would be top of my list of things I thought you'd be doing too," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Why'd Hermione want him not to ask about that though?" Remus was surprised. "Harry's never not told them what he's been up to.

"Maybe Hermione thinks that's a sensitive topic too," Lily rolled her eyes.

It made sense they'd need a new Defense teacher, what had he been like?

"It's nice to have more foreknowledge than the teenagers for once," Sirius laughed hard at that one.

"Technically we only know they're wrong about their assumption, not who the new Defense teacher is," Remus pointed out.

"Must you ruin all my fun?" Sirius rolled his eyes.

Harry said he looked a bit like a walrus, and he used to be Head of Slytherin.

"About sums him up as far as I'm concerned," James agreed.

Then he asked Hermione if something was wrong?

She was watching him as though expecting strange symptoms to manifest themselves at any moment. She rearranged her features hastily in an unconvincing smile.

"What is her problem this morning?" Sirius asked in exasperation.

"Harry's interrupting her and Ron's room the past three weeks?" Remus offered under his breath, causing Sirius to both snort and smile innocently, and Remus to hurry on before explaining the joke. Neither thought Harry would find it funny.

She said no of course not! Then quickly asked what kind of teacher he'd be?

Harry just said couldn't be worse than Umbridge.

"He's got me there," Sirius sighed, and there used to be a time Slughorn was his least favorite teacher, but Snape had already trumped that, now the man seemed like a blessing after that frosted catnip.

A voice from the doorway interrupted there was certainly someone worse than Umbridge.

"I find that hard to agree," Lily said at once with a disparaging look at her sons right hand.

Ron's younger sister slouched into the room, looking irritable, but still gave Harry a hi.

"That's certainly a contrast than glowing like the sun upon first meeting you," James smiled slightly, though it was just a bit saddening to hear of this girl's growing up more than he'd got to witness his own son doing so.

Ron asked what her problem was, and she shouted she was being driven mad!

Hermione sympathetically asked what had been done now?

Ginny returned she kept being spoken to like she was three!

Hermione agreed she was so full of herself.

"This is just rude, playing the pronoun game right in front of us," Sirius grumbled as this conversation just kept carrying on.

"I'm not sure who they could even be talking about," Remus agreed, "doesn't seem like Molly."

"Certainly not Tonks, who's the only other girl we've seen over there," James agreed, completely baffled.

"Maybe it's still someone new," Lily shrugged as she waved them on.

Harry was astonished to hear Hermione talking about Mrs. Weasley like this and could not blame Ron for saying angrily they needed to lay off for five seconds.

"Ron joining in on this just made it more interesting," Sirius didn't try very hard to fight off a smirk.

Ginny snapped of course he'd defend her, he couldn't get enough of her!

This seemed an odd comment to make about Ron's mother.

Harry scowled at their collective snorts and grumbled they all thought themselves so smart, he had just woken up!

He had just asked who they were speaking of when again someone came in the door.

Harry instinctively yanked the bedcovers up to his chin so hard that Hermione and Ginny slid off the bed onto the floor.

"They kind of deserved it after your morning," James chuckled.

A young woman was standing in the doorway, a woman of such breathtaking beauty that the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow. To complete this vision of perfection, she was carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray.

"Err," most of them muttered, as this cleared up nothing. Harry wasn't being of much help, still blinking spastically as if he had a bright light in his eyes. Sirius though well remembered a girl of this description, and the next line only magnified that expression.

A girl in a thick French accent greeted ˜Arry, it had been too long!

"Oh, it's Fleur!" Remus yelped.

James let out a surprised whistle as this registered, "wow, her and Bill must be getting on really well for her to already be hanging around his house this much."

Lily was still rolling her eyes at Sirius for not just telling them this when he'd realized it.

As she swept over the threshold toward him, Mrs. Weasley was revealed, bobbing along in her wake, looking rather cross. Pointing out there was no need for this, she was doing it herself.

Flure said it was no problem, she'd wanted to come see him! Gabrielle would be so delighted about this as well.

"Merlin, how many people do they have crammed into that house?" Lily asked with some concern for this declaration.

"Bill and her are likely just there visiting with her, I doubt they're staying there," James shrugged.

Harry asked she was here to.

Flure corrected next summer, when the- then she stopped in surprise he didn't know.

"How could he know, he's literally just awoken," Remus reminded, clearly still far more against this than anything.

Her great blue eyes widened and she looked reproachfully at Mrs. Weasley, who said they hadn't a chance to tell him yet.

"She doesn't seem particularly excited for it," Lily noticed, a few things popping to mind.

Fleur turned back to Harry, swinging her silvery sheet of hair so that it whipped Mrs. Weasley across the face.

"Endearing," Sirius snickered.

Announcing her and Bill were to be married!

"Ah, well I was right," James smirked.

"Wonder what's got Molly so wound up about it," Sirius shrugged without much concern.

"Her first baby's starting his own family, I'm sure she's going through all sorts of things," Lily told, eyeing Harry's ring with something very acute to how Molly would be feeling, while unable to stop a pleased little smile of her own for these circumstances.

Harry just said oh blankly. He could not help noticing how Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny were all determinedly avoiding one another's gaze.

Lily couldn't help but understand those girls, she hadn't thought much of Fleur either until Harry had gotten to know her a bit better.

He congratulated her, and she swooped down upon him and kissed him on each cheek while continuing Bill was very busy with his job for now so he invited her over here to get to know his family, though there wasn't much to do unless you liked cooking and chickens.

"Should I be worried she thinks things are going to be more exciting with him around?" Remus went wide eyed with some genuine concern for that.

"She met Harry when he entered the tournament he shouldn't, I can't blame her," Sirius reminded without any enthusiasm.

She waved him goodbye and bid him enjoy his breakfast before leaving.

Ginny whispered as soon as she left Mum hated her.

Molly snapped at once she did not, she just thought they were rushing into this engagement!

"Well I can't say a word," Lily muttered with a gleaming smile. She never would have thought herself the kind to marry right after school and have a family started, and Bill would be about that same age. She wouldn't change her life for anything though, and would of course caution her own child not to do the same.

Ron pointed out they knew each other for a year, still staring groggily at the door.

"I think someone's still got a Veela infatuation," Sirius said wisely.

Molly said that certainly wasn't long enough! People were doing this across the country, all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who! It was the same last time, people eloping left, right, and center.

"Yes. And?" James asked with an unconcerned smirk as he fought the compulsion to go over to his wife just to take her hand.

"Prongs, you are not the example to be setting for anyone," Remus scoffed.

"Oh, and you are?" Sirius challenged.

"You're all idiots, so I don't know what you're comparing," Lily reminded.

Ginny reminded as well as her own parents, and Molly went slightly red before pointing out they were made for each other.

"Right," James drew out the word defiantly, Molly had just turned herself into a bit of a hypocrite, again.

Whereas Bill and Fleur didn't have a thing in common. He was down to earth and hard working, where as she-

Was a cow, Ginny happily inserted. He loved adventure and glamour, probably why he fell for Phlegm.

They all snorted in surprise, that having been the last thing they'd expect Ginny to call anyone.

Mrs. Weasley snapped at her daughter not to call her that as Harry and Hermione laughed.

"I don't see where she gets off telling Ginny that," Harry said a bit defensively, "she was just bad mouthing Fleur as well."

"Do as I say, not as I do," Sirius shrugged.

She went back downstairs then, while Ron was still shaking his head like he was punch-drunk.

Harry asked didn't he get used to it with her over here so much?

Ron agreed mostly, but not when she just jumped out like that.

"It's the Yule Ball all over again," Remus snickered.

"I do hope Fleur's told Bill about that exciting tale," Sirius agreed.

Hermione furiously called him pathetic, striding away from Ron as far as she could go and turning to face him with her arms folded once she had reached the wall.

"Never mind, they're still squabbling, and ignoring the fun side of acting like a married couple," Remus muttered.

Ginny protested he couldn't want her around forever? Mum was going to find a way to stop it.

"Oh, she wouldn't go that far," Lily disagreed. "She may not approve, and I'm sure she's told Bill as much, but I can't imagine her standing in his way like that."

"I can," James scowled, well remembering her harshness of the twins, and his own best mate last time she'd been around.

Harry asked how she'd managed that, and Hermione explained she kept trying to have Tonks around, like she hoped Bill would fall for her instead.

Ginny agreed she'd much rather have her in the family.

"Yeah, I can see it," Sirius grinned.

Harry just laughed, having an odd feeling this was in fact the exact opposite of what was going on, but not quite far off either?

Ron didn't buy it, no bloke in his right mind would fancy Tonks when Fleur was around.

"Oh now that's not fair," Remus frowned for that. "I've much more enjoyed hearing about her than some pretty French girl."

"Got to agree with Moony on that one, she'd be much more fun to have around," Sirius nodded.

Tonks is okay-looking when she wasn't doing stupid things to her hair and her nose,

"I thought that was when she was at her best," Remus snipped.

"Go for the girl with a sense of humor," James agreed, very purposely looking to his wife who was snickering along.

Hermione agreed Tonks was even more intelligent, being an Auror.

Harry contradicted Fleur had been in the Triwizard Tournament, that had to take some brains.

"Intelligence wasn't a factor for that Harry," Sirius snorted in surprise.

"Plus, she came in last," James agreed.

"Oh stop, the lot of you, we're not having a contest over this," Lily fought to straighten her face and scold.

Hermione snapped not him as well!

Ginny scornfully asked if he liked the way she said ˜Arry?

Harry, now regretting having spoken at all, tried to say Phlegm, err, Fleur-

"Apparently Ginny's nickname was catchier than I first thought," Sirius snickered.

but Ginny just interrupted she wanted Tonks in the family.

Ron pointed out she hadn't been much fun lately, acting more like Moaning Myrtle the past few times she'd been around.

"Do they know something about that?" Lily asked, her concern for this returning at once.

"Let's find out," Sirius agreed.

Hermione snapped that wasn't fair, she still hadn't gotten over it! He was her cousin!

Sirius blanched in surprised, that had not been the answer he'd been expecting!

"Nah, surely that's not it," James tried to say casually, though the hitch in his voice made that anything but. He couldn't even continue, but looked away from everyone, despising his mind for reliving those last few moments all over again.

Sirius muttered a bit at Hermione still managing to bring this up before pressing on for the fifth time already about this.

Harry's heart sank. They had arrived at Sirius. He picked up a fork and began shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth, hoping to deflect any invitation to join in this part of the conversation.

"Food has been known to solve many a problem," Remus agreed while trying to examine his nails and ignoring the ringing in his ears.

Ron scoffed that was ridiculous, they'd barely known each other, he'd been in Azkaban half her life and their families never met.

"Close enough to the truth," Lily whispered, watching Sirius' face drain of all color for being further reminded of this. He'd probably spent more time laughing about Tonks in here than he ever had with her.

Hermione snapped that wasn't the point, she thought it was her own fault he'd died.

Harry asked how Tonks would work that out despite himself.

"Yeah, I thought I took the blame for everything," Sirius happily falsified his voice to mock Harry's when trying to say that. For some reason his godson didn't appreciate the attempt.

Hermione reminded she'd been the last one fighting Bellatrix before it happened.

Ron said that was stupid, but Hermione reminded it was survivors guilt. She'd heard Lupin had tired to talk her around,

Harry couldn't help making a funny noise at that, though he wasn't sure what it was. Not quite laughter for Hermione's assumption.

but she'd been really down, having trouble with her Metamorphosing!

"Her what?" They yelped in genuine concern.

She hadn't been changing her appearance at will, probably shock.

"Now I'm really convinced something's wrong, and it's not me," Sirius' frown turned heavier than ever for his poor little cousins health.

"I'm sure that's the first time you've ever said that," Remus tried to playfully snip, but it fell flat. If it wasn't having to hear about Sirius, it was some other travesty happening in this future, and Tonks really was a light they could have used right now.

Harry was surprised that could happen, but Hermione said she was sure it could if one was really depressed.

"I can see it," Lily murmured uneasily. "Magic can have an affect on your state of mind, so I suppose the physical aspects would also be a bit touched."

"Whatever it is, I hope someone's trying to help," Remus huffed, still more worried than anything he wasn't being of any good to the Order even if he was clearly still around in some way.

Molly popped back in to ask Ginny to come help her with lunch.

"No, the conversation can't go on without her!" James dramatically wailed, causing the others a fresh burst of laughter for theatrics at least.

Ginny protested she was talking! Mrs. Weasley wouldn't hear it and said now! Ginny huffed she just didn't want to be alone with Phlegm, then swung her long red hair around in a very good imitation of Fleur and pranced across the room with her arms held aloft like a ballerina.

"A sight to behold I'm sure," Sirius forced a chipper mood again as well to go along with Prongs while Harry genuinely gave an affectionate smile for the show.

Harry took advantage of the temporary silence to eat more breakfast.

"A worthy cause," Remus chucked.

Hermione was peering into Fred and George's boxes, though every now and then she cast sideways looks at Harry. Ron, who was now helping himself to Harry's toast, was still gazing dreamily at the door.

She pulled a small telescope out of one and asked what it was.

Ron cautioned to be careful, though he wasn't sure. If Fred and George had left it behind, probably meant it wasn't ready for the shop.

"We all know what their last tests were like," Lily agreed with a small smile.

Speaking of his brothers, Harry asked if Percy had come around yet?

Lily perked up the most for this answer, the others were clearly still far more disgusted he'd even done such a thing.

Ron said nope.

Harry was shocked, Voldemort was back in the open now, he had to admit his parents were right.

"Clearly that's not enough for him to admit he was wrong of all things!" Siris snapped.

Hermione said Dumbledore had offered something along the lines of it was easier to forgive others for being wrong than right.

Ron agreed that was the mental sort of thing he'd say.

Harry conversationally put in he'd be taking private lessons with him this year.

Ron choked on a bit of toast and Hermione gasped, both shocked he'd kept that quiet!

"When exactly was he supposed to insert that into the conversation? When he was getting socked in the head, or Ron was drooling over Fleur?" James chuckled, though he knew he would have been just as bad if that had been dropped at any time.

Ron at once wondered where he, his voice tailed away. Harry saw him and Hermione exchange looks.

"Well they've clearly been having conversations without you again," Sirius pouted.

"Been doing that last year as well, and I'd be happy for them, if it weren't about me," Harry sighed.

Harry laid down his knife and fork, his heart beating rather fast considering that all he was doing was sitting in bed. Dumbledore had said to do it. ... Why not now?

"Because it would have been nice to go a whole five minutes without thinking about it," James sighed unhappily, but didn't begrudge Harry getting this out of the way either rather than dwelling on it his own some more.

He fixed his eyes on his fork, which was gleaming in the sunlight streaming into his lap, and began explaining those lessons had something to do with that prophecy.

Neither Ron nor Hermione spoke. Harry had the impression that both had frozen. He continued, still speaking to his fork,

"It's only polite, you should involve the utensils for all they do," Sirius nodded along while Remus gave him a light smack before he continued him on.

they knew the one, from the Department of Mysteries.

"Not a lot of other prophecies you could be referring to," James muttered agreement.

Hermione whispered it had been smashed, while Ron tried to interrupt the Daily Prophet had said, but Hermione shushed him.

"Hermione's allowed to interrupt but he's not?" Lily gave a halfhearted giggle.

Harry agreed he'd read those articles, and the prophet had it right, then he quoted the last lines for them, neither could live while the other survived.

"Is that really the only part your grasped on?" Lily demanded, wringing her own hands in an effort not to hold her son closer. "You've had experience with at least one other, surely you know not to take them at such face value!"

Harry couldn't bring himself to look at her, fight back, or contradict at all. He wished there were some other interpretation he was missing, but it all felt so inevitable it merely ate away at him what they'd think of him when it came to pass.

The three of them gazed at one another in silence for a moment. Then there was a loud bang and Hermione vanished behind a puff of black smoke.

Sirius startled a bit, before he burst out laughing. "Well, I guess we know what that," he went back and checked what exactly it was Hermione was holding, "telescope did!"

"The opposite of helped you to see, I like it," James chuckled in agreement.

The boys rushed to her in surprise, but she was already stepping out of the smoke, waving a hand in front of her face now with a black eye, gasping it had punched her!

"Oh, even better!" Remus yelped in surprise, still snickering delightedly at the gag.

Sure enough, they now saw a tiny fist on a long spring protruding from the end of the telescope.

Ron, who was plainly trying not to laugh,

No one was bothering with that in here.

promised her his mum could fix that.

Hermione said not to worry about that now,

"Sure she wouldn't have said that under any other circumstances," Lily snorted.

while rushing to Harry's side. They'd wondered if it was something like this, after all Lucius had said,

"It's no wonder the Prophet put this together, apparently everyone just knew this was going to happen," Harry sighed.

"Not if you don't want it to!" James reminded so forcefully Harry had to remind himself not to jump. "You can make your future whatever you want it to be!"

Harry glanced at him then, at all of them, and it really hit him why they were all so against this prophecy. Not because of his destiny being entwined with Voldemort, but because they refused to believe it was so inevitable Harry would be the one to do it. They just wanted him to have his own future, not be forced into this like Voldemort had done to them so many years ago, or so soon from now. He held tight to that knowledge, actually smiling as he promised, "Well, I'm sure you'll see to it it never gets this far."

"Absolutely," Lily agreed with all the confidence in the world.

She whispered if he was scared?

He admitted he had been, but now it felt like he'd always known he was going to face him at the end.

Sirius had to bite hard at his tongue to convince himself not to tell Harry that didn't have to define him, least of all allow someone else to tell him so! If he chose never to face Voldemort again he'd tear away anyone who tried to stop him.

Ron eagerly jumped on the topic of Dumbledore's lessons, saying he wouldn't be doing that if he thought Harry didn't have a chance.

"As eloquent as ever that one," Remus frowned more for the way he phrased it than disagreeing.

Hermione agreed he was probably going to learn powerful countercurses and anti-jinxes.

"I wouldn't really think so," Lily tugged at her hair in thought. "Voldemort is one of the most knowledgeable wizards there is, it must be how he's gotten as far as he has in his conquest. Not just anyone can come back from what he did after all, so it should be something more along the lines of other ways to defeat him than outright spells."

"Your idea has merits, but teaching him how to turn those statues into impervious shields wouldn't go awry either," James decided.

Harry did not really listen. A warmth was spreading through him that had nothing to do with the sunlight; a tight obstruction in his chest seemed to be dissolving. He knew that Ron and Hermione were more shocked than they were letting on, but the mere fact that they were still there on either side of him, speaking bracing words of comfort, not shrinking from him as though he were contaminated or dangerous, was worth more than he could ever tell them.

Lily sighed lovingly for her son, still as oblivious as he was at eleven. No one had thought this for a second anymore than they'd believed Ron and Hermione would take his cloak back at Fluffy's door. The smile on his face still showed otherwise, if not double more so because of those around him now.

She finished a bit anxious at least he knew of one class he'd be taking this year, wondering aloud when their OWL results would show up.

Harry distractedly said some time today, and Hermione shrieked!

"I think Hermione actually just had kittens," Sirius chuckled at such a reaction.

"To be fair, this is the most important moment of her life," Remus lightly mocked.

She leapt to her feet and darted down the stairs at once. When Harry arrived ten minutes later, fully dressed and carrying his empty breakfast tray, it was to find Hermione sitting at the kitchen table in great agitation, while Mrs. Weasley tried to lessen her resemblance to half a panda.

"A memorable depiction I shall never forget," James snickered.

Muttering to herself as she examined a text how her bruise wouldn't budge, she'd never come across this before!

Ginny agreed it was probably part of the twins trick so it wouldn't come off.

"I'd trust her on that," Sirius said a little to knowingly, and Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know when his godfather had tired much the same thing on anyone else.

Hermione squeaked it had to! She couldn't look like this forever!

Mrs. Weasley soothed they'd figure out something, while Fleur inserted Bill had told her how amusing Fred and George were.

"I'm guessing Bill wasn't on the end of many of their pranks then," Lily smiled.

"Or he actually does find them funny and can laugh along," James pointed out.

Hermione snapped she could hardly breathe from laughing at it!

"Those twins really should consider themselves lucky they aren't there for this," Sirius said while still unable to wipe away a smile for this imagined carnage. "We'd have an epic war about the house, considering this is the first time she's fallen victim to them personally."

"It's a miracle it never happened in school," Remus agreed.

She jumped up and started walking round and round the kitchen, twisting her fingers together and pleading with Mrs. Weasley she was sure no owls had come this morning?

Molly promised she'd have noticed, while Hermione barely heard her, still muttering about how she knew she'd messed up Ancient Runes, she'd certainly made one serious mistranslation.

"I never had the class, so I don't know what she's on about," Sirius went wide eyed with innocent curiosity.

"Because I missed this," Lily told him blandly while he continued on, high on his own cleverness.

And her Defense Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. She thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back-

"She O'd everything," James stated as if noticing the weather.

"She can't be entirely perfect, she might have gotten an E in Defense, especially if she's freezed again." Remus said fairly.

Ron barked at her to shut it, she'd be walking away with eleven Outstanding Owls.

Hermione wailed she had failed everything!

"Nah, then we'd know she got Malfoy's," Sirius said brightly.

Harry asked what happened if that were true, and Hermione told you were to have a meeting with Professor McGonagall, she'd asked at the end of last term.

"Whom I'm sure laughed hysterically first," Lily shook her head affectionately.

"Though I don't think any student has ever failed every single OWL," James properly explained. "You do need to revisit with your head of house to further discuss your career options though, if you've happened to not get a grade that didn't align with your path."

"Or you can have the option to retake it, and have to pay to do so, same as if you needed an OWL grade for a course you didn't take," Remus told.

Harry nodded, as he considered all of this, knowing no grade in the world would get him into a class with Snape again...but maybe Slughorn? He certainly didn't feel very worried about his future as an Auror still hanging.

Harry's stomach squirmed. He wished he had eaten less breakfast.

Fleur chose to explain that at Beauxbatons, they took those grades after six years, not five,

"I can see both sides to that," Lily said curiously. "If you wait until your sixth year, then you've an extra year to study for the classes you really want to excel in-"

"But there's no year in between taking two major exams for your life," James happily butted in with the other side.

"Well Fleur always thought her school was better, so I'm sure she'd be happy to rebuttal," Sirius shrugged, not wanting to hear either, just happy he'd never have to take another test again.

Fleur's words were drowned in a scream. Hermione was pointing through the kitchen window. Three black specks were clearly visible in the sky, growing larger all the time.

Harry was rubbing at his ear but looking a little grey, while the others all lit up with so much excitement to hear this they couldn't even laugh at Hermione's overreaction.

The three students huddled worriedly around the window as the birds descended, Mrs. Weasley having to squeeze past them to get the window open where they each landed in front of their carriers.

Harry moved forward. The letter addressed to him was tied to the leg of the owl in the middle. He untied it with fumbling fingers. To his left, Ron was trying to detach his own results; to his right, Hermione's hands were shaking so much she was making her whole owl tremble.

"I'm sure the poor birds have had worse done to them, like being vomited on," Sirius said slyly.

"I regret ever telling you that," Remus grumbled.

Nobody in the kitchen spoke. At last, Harry managed to detach the envelope. He slit it open quickly and unfolded the parchment inside.

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

Pass Grades

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Sirius honestly skipped right past all of that nonsense, they already knew that.

Harry James Potter has achieved:

Astronomy A

Care of Magical Creatures E

Charms E

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Divination P

Herbology E

History of Magic D

Potions E

Transfiguration E

"Congratulations!" James cheered while Lily did a little whoop of joy for him. Harry honestly found it hard to believe he'd done so well, much better than he ever would have given himself credit for in all the classes that mattered.

"Looks like McGonagall's Auror training is going to be completely unneeded, you managed all that yourself!" Sirius bounced happily in place.

"I'm still stunned stupid he got an E in Potions! It's hard to believe he learned anything in that class!" Remus looked struck dumb.

"Gee, thanks," Harry laughed lightly, though he didn't at all disagree.

Harry read the parchment through several times, his breathing becoming easier with each reading. It was all right: He had always known that he would fail Divination, and he had had no chance of passing History of Magic, given that he had collapsed halfway through the examination,

"Nobody cares about that class anyways," James waved off at once, fighting back the compulsion to scream some more at the mention of that particular exam.

but he had passed everything else! He ran his finger down the grades . . . he had passed well in Transfiguration and Herbology, he had even exceeded expectations at Potions! And best of all, he had achieved "Outstanding" at Defense Against the Dark Arts!

"No surprise there!" Sirius puffed up his chest. "He's been a natural at that from the start!"

"You did extremely well, you should hear that no matter how unsurprising it is," Lily told him gently as well as a rebuke to Sirius, who simply grinned in agreement rather than replying to her.

"Will you tell me what grades you got now?" James quickly asked her, batting his eyes pleadingly.

She just raised her brows at him in disbelief. "What makes you think I remember them all so many years later? I'm not as conceited as you lot, constantly lording over-"

"I'm guessing O in Potions, Herbology, and Charms, and at least an E in everything else," Sirius said loudly around her.

She blushed faintly, and had to take some niggling from Harry before finally admitting, " Well he wasn't wrong about the first three, but I got an A in my Ancient Runes and Transfiguration..."

"And," James happily prompted when it was clear she was refraining from saying something else.

She released a blistering noise before finishing, "and a T in my History of Magic. I was so busy studying for everything else, and it just sort of fell through the cracks there at the end-"

"Is that all?" Harry chuckled. "You did as well as I did Mum."

"Doesn't make it any more fun to remember," she huffed with a gleaming smile.

"Can't wait for your NEWT results now," Sirius said cheerfully before going on.

He looked around. Hermione had her back to him and her head bent, but Ron was looking delighted, noting he'd only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cared about those! They swapped papers, Harry glanced down Ron's grades: There were no "Outstandings" there. ***

"Really?" Sirius said in honest surprise. "You'd think he'd have aced some class, I know he'd gotten on just as well in Care of Magical Creatures as Harry, what with his dragon keeper of a brother giving him some extra knowledge."

"Ron never took his classes to heart though, I'm sure he didn't even try his hardest, like others," Remus said pointedly to Sirius' careless shrug.

Mrs. Weasley praised her youngest son when she saw his results, telling those seven owls was more than Fred and George had gotten together!

"Still on that eh?" Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I don't want to hear it from the lot of you who stopped to recount yours," Lily snipped, "and then demanded mine."

Ginny tentatively called for Hermione, who still hadn't moved.

"Maybe she actually didn't get an O in everything," James went wide eyed in concern.

"I think I'll faint from shock," Sirius began fanning himself for a moment.

Hermione said in a small voice she hadn't done bad.

"Or she's just embarrassed she made such a big deal out of it and actually doesn't want to show off," Remus shook his head.

Ron walked over and snatched her paper away, then laughed she was actually disappointed she'd only gotten an Exceeds Expectations in her Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL.

"Wow," James mouthed theatrically.

"She's actually disappointed in herself," Sirius scratched at his temple for this reaction.

"She did admit Harry's beat her out in previous DA exams, I'm not too surprised about this one," Remus shrugged with an extra, though still tentative, smile at Harry, who returned it at once.

He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. Then declared them all N.W.E.T students, and asked his mum for more sausages.

"The proper response!" Sirius burst out laughing.

Harry looked back down at his results. They were as good as he could have hoped for. He felt just one tiny twinge of regret. . . . This was the end of his ambition to become an Auror. He had not secured the required Potions grade. He had known all along that he wouldn't, but he still felt a sinking in his stomach as he looked again at that small black E.

"I wish Dumbledore had told you what position Slughorn was coming back for now," Lily clucked her tongue sadly for that frown he was easily hiding now at knowing better. "Would save you a summer of stressing over this."

"At least McGonagall will set him straight at the beginning of the year," James reminded cheerfully.

It was odd, really, seeing that it had been a Death Eater in disguise who had first told Harry he would make a good Auror,

"Yeah, the irony of that has crossed me several times," James gave a heavy sigh.

"Doesn't make it any less appropriate given how your life's gone," Sirius pointed out.

but somehow the idea had taken hold of him, and he couldn't really think of anything else he would like to be. Moreover, it had seemed the right destiny for him since he had heard the prophecy a few weeks ago. . . . Neither can live while the other survives. . . .Wouldn't he be living up to the prophecy, and giving himself the best chance of survival, if he joined those highly trained wizards whose job it was to find and kill Voldemort?

The four around him made faces at this again being brought up, but now that Harry felt he better understood where they were coming from, he easily brushed past their concern as he happily watched his mother grab the book to continue.

HPHPHPHP

*This was a really weird line to me when I first read it, and I had to google if that was an actual saying or I just got some odd copy. Turns out it's an older way to say goodbye, especially to a lady. The more you know.

**I'm really not sure why Hermione was here for this summer holiday. She could have met up with them in Diagon Alley if she really needed to, but even then she wasn't essential to what goes on there. Why not have her spend the majority of the summer with her parents like she'd done before? I'll go more into this in the next book with their last mention, but still.

***I am genuinely insulted by this, Ron couldn't get one Outstanding? In Care of Creatures or something? She did for the other two, Hermione was obvious but still, Ron could have outshone Harry in one class, or at least have it be mentioned he got a higher grade than him in something.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #HP #HBP #The Life That Never Lived #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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asphalt-cocktail · 4 years

Text

Sour- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: You’re a Right Bitch

Summary: Signing onto EMI records in the mid 80′s should have been a dream come true for Reader and her punk band, but she finds herself bubbling over with rage every time she interacts with the drummer from the successful rock band that records down the hall.

A/N: Hey lil cuties, I hope you enjoyed the teaser, it got a lot of good recognition which I’m happy about. Maybe i’ll actually do a tag list if anyone is interested (P.S. send ask if you are) and depending on how many people ask I’ll make but ONLY for this fic. If any of you have ideas for a name for reader’s band let me know because I’m writing the next chapter right now and I can’t think of what to call it, I was thinking maybe Sex Kitten, but let me know you’re opinion is always appreciated! This can be read as Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor and your feedback, likes, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

Pairing: 80s!Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, hate fucking, degrading, alcohol, cigarettes, dom!Roger, swearing, fighting, unprotected sex, no foreplay, throwing up (from intoxication), age difference(maybe like 10 years, reader is probably mid- late 20s and Roger is close to 40), rog being kind of a c*nt, but reader also is, not proof read, grammar.

Word Count: 5.8k whoops

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Asks

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

<<<< Teaser

Signing onto EMI should have seemed like a dream come true, but it wasn’t. Not because you and your band had issues with the contract or the long hours spent in the recording studio, no, it was because of a certain drummer of a certain internationally known rock band that had been the absolute bane of your existence. You honestly had no idea how the two of you had gotten off on the wrong foot, maybe it was how loud your hot-headed drummer, Benny got when he was pissed off, or how Haz liked to play his guitar outside of the sound dampened recording studio or how your singer Joe sand loudly in the halls as the four of you left to go home, or maybe it was the fact that you told him you expected him to be much shorter from slouching behind his set. Come to think of it, it probably was the latter of the complaints you’ve gotten from the neighboring band.

The first time you met Roger Taylor was also your first day in the recording studio as an officially signed and contracted band. The group of you were leaving well past midnight, alcohol and cigarettes seemed to be the only way you four could make it through recording this late. As the group of you stumbled through the hallway, your laughter accompanied by Joe’s bass heavy vocals echoed loudly through the halls. Your troupe had just barely made your way to the first door before a head of messy blond hair and furrowed brows poked his head out from the neighboring recording room, “Would you shut your bloody traps, some of us are trying to record.” He snapped before loudly slamming the door behind him.

You and your bandmates froze, unsure of what to do or say. It wasn’t until Haz spoke up and shoved Joe “Yeah shut up, Joe.” He mocked while laughing. You couldn’t help but think of how familiar his face looked.

Just the thought of Roger Taylor was enough to make your mood sour for at least the next three hours. You frowned pushing the heavy doors to the outside open, inhaling the cool winter air. You needed to get out of that damn recording studio, it got so stuffy after having four people in there breathing the same air for hours at a time. You brought a cigarette to your lips and lit it, leaning against the brick building with your hands in your jacket pocket, the door next to you opened revealing your nemesis, Roger Taylor, much to your dismay. “Fuck now my cigarette is ruined.” You said blowing smoke out towards the air.

Roger rolled his eyes, “Piss off.” He retorted before walking past you and to his car to grab a few sets of spare sticks.

“Aw, not out here to join me for a smoke?” you joked.

Roger frowned and his face twisted into one of disgust “I’d rather eat a fist full of glass.” He spat at you bitterly.

You hummed taking a drag from your cigarette and blew the smoke directly in his face as he walked past you “Shame, we really could have bonded.”

Roger waved the smoke away from his face “Don’t you have to be a bitch somewhere else?”

Your face twisted as you stubbed your cigarette out with your boot “Don’t you have to bang on some pots and pans?” you retorted.

Roger rolled his eyes and pushed past you, throwing the door open and stomping down the hall. You waited a beat for him to make his way to Queen’s recording room before you followed suit. Seeing Roger Taylor in person was enough to sour your mood for a few days. You and your bad attitude made your way back to the studio, you loudly shut the door behind you which caught the attention of your bandmates. “What’s got you in a pissy mood?” Haz asked.

Benny smirked knowingly “You ran into roger while out on your smoke break, didn’t you?”

You huffed “I swear to god I’m going to fight his arrogant ass one of these days.” You said while pacing, too worked up to sit down.

Joe walked out of the booth “Well if you’re done brooding, get in and record your bass line for the song. We’ve been wasting time waiting for you to get back in.” He sounded almost as frustrated as you were.

You nodded, picking up your bass and walking into the booth, you put the headphones on and allowed for the music your bandmates had recorded previously to fill your eardrums as you added your bass line onto their unapologetically loud post-punk beats.

The music stopped and you looked up from your bass, “You sound like shit.” Benny said, “Not like good shit, but like actual shit.” He added.

Your jaw dropped, “Excuse me?” you sounded shocked, “What?” You really couldn’t wrap your head around what Benny had just told you.

Joe nodded his head and gave you a sympathetic smile along with a thumbs down, “You should make it… make it more slappy I guess?”

You scoffed “Slappy? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Benny clicked on the speaking button again “It means, make it sound slappy. Like this,” He said singing a bass like.

You nodded your head “Got it.” You said and waved your hand signaling them to roll the tape. You chewed on your lip and listened for a minute to think of something to play before you let your fingers fly down your frets and strings. When you finished you looked back up to the window “Slappy enough for you?”

“Fucking brilliant, per usual.” Haz complemented into the mic.

Movement in the background caught your attention though, you walked closer to the window and squinted your eyes trying to see into the poorly lit sound booth to the door. Where some tall figures stood “What’s going on back there?” You asked.

Haz shifted nervously in his seat “Don’t worry about it, we have other songs to do.” You could see him swallow thickly behind the glass that separated the two of you.

You were suspicious but he was right, “Fine, roll the bloody tape.” You were frustrated, frustrated with your shit takes, frustrated with Roger, frustrated with the fact you didn’t know what was going on from the outside of this stupid little box. Through the middle of your little recording session you saw your bandmates recongregate in front of the soundboard. They whispered and talked amongst themselves while the producer sat next to them obviously eavesdropping, you abruptly stopped “Are you going to tell me who was at the door? Or should I just keep playing and not having you pay attention.” You said bitterly.

Benny rolled his eyes and paused the recording, “If you really need to know, Freddie Mercury invited us to a gathering at his house later this evening.” He said waving an envelope in front of the window.

“You’ve got to be joking.” You said, letting go of your bass and allowing it to drop and hand loosely from the strap around your shoulder.

“Honest,” He said raising his hands defensively.

You took your headphones off and switched off the mic before screaming “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” From behind the soundproof booth, that did it. You rage had finally bubbled over, you shoved over the table holding your water, extra pics, and notes before breathing deeply and regathering yourself. “Let’s roll the fucking tape so we can get ready, yeah?” You said, as your bandmates looked at you with shocked expressions behind the glass. “You lot catching flies, or are we going to fucking record, let’s go.”

As you recorded your bandmates sat in an uncomfortable silence before one of them finally spoke “I’ve never seen [Y/N] that mad at anything in my life.” Haz started, leaning back in his chair.

Joe nodded his head, still listening intently but joining in on the conversation, “Yeah, but I bet it’s because she hasn’t gotten a proper lay in ages.”

Benny cracked open his beer and took a big gulp before grunting in agreement “You think she fancies Taylor?” he questioned.

“Yeah, but she can’t deal with her feelings, you know that. She’ll destroy this whole damn studio before she admits that.” Haz pointed out.

Benny nodded his head “Right, well I guarantee she is going to be piss drunk tonight, so I’ll keep an eye on her.”

---

After your litter outburst in the studio the boys decided to call it a day after your last take to allow for you all to go home and get ready for Freddie’s party, Ben would be making arounds later to pick everyone up but that wouldn’t be an issue considering he was also your roommate. You rifled through your closet, struggling to figure out what to wear. Your typical style didn’t seem grand enough for a Freddie Mercury party, but you made do with what you had and opted for comfort instead of sex appeal.

“Try not to fight anyone tonight.” Benny said as the two of you got into his small car.

You obviously knew what he was referencing but preferred to ignore it “I won’t, it’ll be fine, I’ve never been in a better mood.” You said and flashed him a fake cheesy smile.

Benny rolled his eyes knowing he would have his hands full tonight.

The drive to Freddie’s lavish home was surprisingly short, which you were grateful for seeing as sitting in the car was making you stir crazy. A pit of butterflies had formed in your stomach, but you had no idea why you had this sudden onset of nerves. You got along wonderfully with all of the other members of the famous rock and roll band and often times would ring up John Deacon for advice on your playing. You didn’t mind his bluntly honest critiques or his back handed complements that would make any other person run and cry. You were not any other person in the sense that you and John were very similar in that sense. Being the bassists in your respective bands meant you had to stand up for yourself otherwise you would get pushed to the background and often forgotten about by fans. It was your mutual understanding for the struggles of being bassists and strong drinkers that caused your professional friendship to form.

The group of you made your way to Freddie’s front door and were let in by nicely dressed doormen, and the scene before you was unlike anything you could have imagined. You knew his parties were the stuff of legends, but a party of this stature could rival even the great Jay Gatsby. You quickly lit a cigarette and took a glass of expensive white wine from one of the waitstaffs’ trays, promptly downing the small glass and handing it back to them, “Shall we?” You asked nodding your head into the large crowd of people before you.

Before you knew it, your bandmates had been swallowed by the crowd, causing you to lose sight of them and anyone else you may have recognized as a matter of fact. You meandered through the crowd towards the bar where you saw a familiar head of iconic curly hair, “Brian!” You said, greeting him with a friendly embrace which he returned. “It’s so nice to see you outside of the recording studio.” You jokingly said.

He laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah same to you.” He took a sip from his drink, “I heard you and Roger got into another little spat.” He could see the remanence of frustration behind your cheerful expression.

Your smile quickly dropped and was replaced by rolling eyes and deep sigh, “Did he tell you that?” You asked, you could feel your frustration boiling over.

“You know he’s sensitive about his drumming.” Brian chimed in with a smirk, oh did he love stirring the pot between the two of you.

“Well I’m sensitive about being called a bitch.” You said quickly swallowing the mixed drink your ordered, hoping the alcohol would ease your frustration.

Brian’s lips quirked into a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” That was a lie and both of you knew it.

You nodded, already nursing your next drink, these bartenders really did work at inhuman speeds “Right,” You said not believing his lie, “Where’s Fred and John?” You quipped.

“What, not curious about where the fourth member is?” Brian pressed, your silence caused him to put his hands up defensively “Only taking the piss.” He said, still smiling “Freddie is out back, and John is God knows where.”

You nodded your head before ordering another drink, back up if you will, and bidding Brian farewell before you pushed your way through the crowd to greet the host. Freddie was having a good time, per usual. You waved hello to him from the crowd of people, he yelled something you couldn’t hear over the music and reached for your hand pulling you into a warm friendly hug which you awkwardly returned given your hands were full. You handed Freddie your empty drink glass “What should I do with this?” You asked, he responded by taking the glass from your hand and throwing it out into the crowd of people, causing you to laugh while nursing your next drink.

You and Freddie laughed in your mutual drunken states “You know, darling, when Roger came back into the studio and mentioned how you said something about him banging on pots and pans I nearly died from laughter.” He said remembering the flushed and angry expression on his drummer’s face. “You know what I think?” He asked leaning into talk to you, you sipped your drink, looking up at Freddie wide eyed and pressing him to continue speaking “I think the two of you should fuck.”

You choked on your drink, coughing it all over the front of your shirt and wiping the dribble from your chin “What!” You asked in a shrill voice.

Freddie let out a bellowing laugh, “It would be brilliant, the two of you need a good fuck anyways.” He said trailing off at the end and taking a large sip from his highball glass.

“I can’t believe you would even suggest I sleep with that arrogant asshole.” You were honestly kind of offended that Freddie would group you with one of Roger’s lowly groupies.

“Hear me out, love.” He said, his stance wavering from the alcohol “Roger has had such a stick up his ass after quitting smoking and the divorce. I don’t think he’s gotten any decent pussy since we toured in the 80s and you? I don’t ever see you going home with any sort of eye candy.”

You rolled your eyes before you finished off your drink and set your glass on a table, “I don’t get any I’m the only female in a mostly male punk band, Fred.” You pointed out, using your now empty hands to light a cigarette, “I’m not even a lead, I just play bass.” You said blowing smoke out into the night sky.

“Oh rubbish, you’re a damn good bassist or John wouldn’t even give you the time of say.” What Freddie said was true. While John was harsh in his critiques, you knew it was only because he saw the raw talent you had.

You nodded your head only half listening to Freddie, your mind still caught up on trying to imagine how sex with Roger Taylor would be. A bitter frown crossed your lips, you would never fuck Roger Taylor, “I need a refill.” You huffed before promising Fred you would come back immediately after your drink. You pushed your way through the crowd, your arm raised as to not burn anyone with your lit cigarette. You tried desperately to find your bandmates, but alas due to the large crowd it was no use.

Either way, you needed another drink.

You quickly made you way to the bar back inside the house and ordered a shot of whiskey and chased it with a full beer before you ordered another mixed drink. The copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed were finally catching up to you, your face felt hot and flushed and your skin tingled delightfully. You hummed, sipping your drink and making your way to the bathroom to finally break the seal. After checking several of the first-floor bathrooms, only to find their handles locked you frowned in frustration and made your way up the stairs to the second level of Freddie’s mansion before you finally found an unlocked bathroom. You promptly went in and relieved yourself as you exited you ran into a surprisingly firm body, sloshing your drink and theirs on each other’s respective shirts “Who invited you here?” The voice sent a chill of frustration up your spine and to your alcohol flushed face.

You looked up, locking eyes with an equally intoxicated Roger Taylor, you huffed moving to push past him “Freddie did, the other members of your group actually seem to enjoy my company.” You said, once again moving to squeeze past him. Your efforts were to no avail, as he had firmly planted both hands on either side of the door, trapping you in the bathroom. “Get out of my way.” You said impatiently, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re always a right cunt you know that?” he said in a matter of fact tone.

You grit your teeth and clenched your drink harder “You’re the one that’s the cunt, maybe it’s all that groupie pussy that’s ruined your respect for women.”

Roger scoffed, here he was, nearly forty years old and throwing insults at some newbie punk rocker. “I don’t know if I’d call you a woman, maybe a failed guitarist sure, but a woman or lady not so much.” He said crossing his arms over his chest giving you a smug look.

“I think your sticks are too far up your ass, Taylor,” You spoke as you pushed past him. Before you had time to react you felt hands on your shoulders pushing you hard against with wall causing you drop the glass in your hands, allowing it to shatter on the ground and the breath to escape from your lungs, you groaned but didn’t know if it was from the pain of your back colliding with the wall behind you or from the adrenaline you felt rising in your veins and stomach.

Roger’s strong hands held you firmly against the wall and his calloused fingertips brushed against the skin on your collar causing a light shutter to run through your body “I have half a mind to shut you up right here.” He threatened, his usually bright blue eyes now clouding over with something much darker.

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the pressure of having his knee right between your legs, but you felt a sudden boldness “Do it,” You pressed, articulating your words and hoping to get a rise out of him.

With that, he pressed his lips against you with force, causing your teeth to clank together and your head to fall back, knocking against the wall. His roughness causing a sultry moan to slip from your lips, “You’re pathetic.” He hissed pulling your hair and tilting your head to expose your neck and leaving hot opened mouth kisses along your jawline to your neck where he harshly bit down causing you to shove him back.

Roger gripped tightly to your hips causing the two of you to stumble backwards from the force of your push “Take me to a bedroom and fuck me already.” You said impatiently. Freddie wouldn’t mind if the two of you had a quick romp in the sheets in one of his many bedrooms, after all he was the one that instigated the whole thing.

The two of you stumbled, a mess of tangled and drunken limbs as you fell back into the first open bedroom you could find. Roger flipped on the light switch, not breaking the kiss and revealing a large well decorated room with an equally large bed in the middle. He shut the door behind him with one arm and shoved you back onto the bed with the other. Your eyes caught your reflection in the side mirror, your hair was a mess accompanied by smeared make up and eyes clouded with lust.

You quickly slipped your boots off and lifted your hips to help Roger take your pants off. Quickly, he flipped you over and pushed you forward. You adjusted yourself, ass in the air and legs spread showing off your already wet pussy. Roger groaned looking at it and ran a finger through your slick folds “You truly are pathetic, you know that, [Y/N]? I’ve barely touched you and here you go making a mess all over Freddie’s sheets.” He inserted two fingers into you agonizingly slow and licked his lips feeling the tightness of you engulf him, “A shit bassist, shit song writer, shit musician, shit person…” He emphasized each of his words with the slow lazy thrusting of his fingers. You let out a choked sob, desperate for him to give you more, “What was that?” He asked smugly, “If you want to get fucked, you’re going to have to be louder for me.” He said before pulling his fingers out leaving you feeling empty.

You pushed back against hand, “No-” you said sharply. You spread your legs further and arched your back “Please,” you hated how he had complete control over the situation, but at the same time loved it.

“Please what?” He asked swiping the head of his cock between your damp folds, intently watching as your juices coated him.

“Fuck me.” You said softly, clenching the bedsheets.

He raised his hand and placed a sharp smack on your ass causing you to jolt “Ah, fuck. Just stick it in already Roger.” You hissed.

Without warning the blond lined up to your entrance and pushed in, not giving you time to adjust. He let out a choking groan, not expecting you to be as tight as you were, “Fucking Christ.” He hissed snapping his hips against yours with purpose.

You gripped the bedsheets and cried out, feeling him stretch your walls unapologetically. There was no foreplay and no care in how either of you handled each other, just wanton need mixed with the mutual resentment you had for each other.

Roger propped one of his legs up to angle deeper into you and leaned over, pushing the side of your face into the mattress as he relentlessly pounded into you, years upon years of frustration he couldn’t hold back. He fucked his failed marriage, arguments with the band, cigarette cravings, and the comments you made about how shitty you thought his drumming was into you as he drove you into the mattress. Your legs shook and eyes rolled into the back of your head from the pleasure you received from the new angle and you let out a string of garbled words neither of you could understand. “This whole party can probably hear how much of a slut you are.” He said slipping his thumb into your mouth to which you greedily sucked on, “I didn’t expect you to have such a tight pussy” He huffed and groaned feeling your walls flutter against him, “’Cos you seemed like such an easy lay.” He let out a breathless laugh, knowing how right he was.

Your arms had given out and were sprawled out in front of you and drool had started to dribble down your chin from Roger’s thumb pressing down on your tongue forcing your mouth open to hear your sinful cries, you knew your legs weren’t going to hold you up much longer and Roger knew that as well.

He quickly pulled out and flipped you over onto your back in a less than graceful manor before he hitched your legs over his hips and pushed himself back in, continuing his relentless pace. You reached your hand into his hair and tugged roughly on his while your other hand raked its nails down his back causing him to arch into your touch and his movement to faulter.

You were surprised to feel a hand slip between your legs and begin rubbing rough circles around your clit, guess chivalry wasn’t dead after all, you squirmed against his touch the stimulation almost becoming too much for you to handle. Your walls twitched, clamping down around Roger, earning a shuttering moan from him.

You were both close.

“R-Rog…” You let out a stuttering moan feeling your climax building in your gut.

“Come on, you can’t be that daft, use your words.” He huffed, gripping your chin to make you face him, “I want this whole party to know who’s fucked you by the time I’m done.” He said through gritted teeth.

You opened your eyes and your mouth hung ajar, breathing heavily as you made eye contact with the mess of a man before you. Roger’s shirt had ridden up, and his pants were half pulled down and accompanied by sweaty and matted hair, you hated how the look in his eyes caused your walls to clamp down hard on his cock, squeezing him as you reached your climax, yelling his name with a hoarse and cracked voice for the whole party downstairs to hear, and the face he made as clenched your thighs and hip and reached his own, releasing hot spurts of come into you. He hunched over you, letting out shaky breaths as he worked you through your orgasm. He hated you but wasn’t a monster.

Roger stopped and swallowed thickly while trying to catch his breath, you glanced over at the mirror seeing red scratched zig zagging on his back and sat in silence, wondering which one of you would cave first and break it. The drummer pulled out of you and tried to hide the whimper that escaped him at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his sensitive cock but failed, before he tucked himself back into his pants, “Still think you’re a bitch.” He said tucking his shirt back into his pants and tightening his belt.

“You’re a shit lay.” You tried to insult as you got up, steps wavering and some of the evidence of your prior actions leaking down the inside of your thigh.

Roger bit his lip at the sight and watched you pull your pants up, “Right and the whole crowd downstairs couldn’t hear your pathetic voice five minutes ago.” He said before turning to leave, giving you a short wave “Ta,” he said and left, walking downstairs with no shame.

Your hips ached as you walked to the bathroom to clean yourself up, you hated how that was your first penetrative orgasm, and you hated the ache between your legs, and you hated the smug look on Roger’s face after he left because the both of you knew he was probably the best lay you’ve had. But you couldn’t find it in you to be angry, not while in your post orgasm haze. You walked down the steps, taking it easy, and made your way to the bar and ordered a mixed drink to quench your thirst, desperately hoping that the stares you received weren’t because these strangers knew you just had been fucked so hard you could still feel the muscles in your legs twitching or that you could still feel the remains of your and Roger’s essence leaking out of you even after you cleaned yourself off.

You ordered a shot and a beer, quickly down the shot and moved to drink the beer before it was taken from your hands. You turned to see Freddie nursing what used to be your beer with a knowing smirk on his face, “[Y/N],” He said in a sing song voice.

“I didn’t fuck Roger” You said defensively.

Freddie grinned and handed you back your beer which you promptly drank out of “I didn’t say that, but you just confirmed.” He nudged your side, “Was it good? You know I caught Roger walking down the steps and he flashed me this grin.” He paused to order a drink, “And you know what I said to myself? I said, oh no Roger only makes that face after he fucked a good cunt. Then what do you know” He shrugged in an animated fashion “I see none other than you, darling, walking down the stairs, stiff as a board.” Freddie was about to continue rambling before you cut him off.

“I hate him.” You said placing a cigarette between your lips and lighting it, inhaling deeply.

Freddie practically ignored your comment, “But it was good wasn’t it?” Your silence was all he needed to answer “See!” He pointed out.

As the night continued so did your consumption of alcohol, you felt your drink being taken out of your hands and a blurry figure and closed on eye to focus your vision. It was a very pissed off Benny, “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since we got here.” He said, drinking your drink.

You whined and leaned onto Benny’s chest “Hey, I was drinking that.” Your words slurred together.

“You look like a mess.” He said wrapping an arm around you to help steady your poor balance, your make up was smeared, hair a mess, clothes wrinkled. But thankfully your drunken state covered for your earlier romp in the sheets. “We have to go home,” He said pulling you along, “Come on.”

Your steps wavered as you began walking out “Wait,” You said abruptly stopping, “I have to say bye to Fred.”

Benny rolled his eyes “You’ve been with Fred all night, I’m sure he’ll understand that we need to leave.” You let out a whiney protest, “It’s 4am, [Y/N]” he said as if pointing out the early hour in the morning was going to make you want to leave more.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and firmly stood your ground, “Fine, for god’s sake Joe go find Freddie.” Benny said running a frustrated hand through his hair.

To you what seemed like hours but was truly minutes passed and Freddie was before you, and equally as drunk mess as you were, hanging off Jim’s shoulder. The two of you held each other in a drunken embrace and Freddie kissed your cheek goodbye before Benny pulled you off.

As Benny and Joe practically pushed you into the car you caught sight of a familiar blonde who was also about to leave, you rolled your window down “Hey!” You shouted, catching Taylor’s attention “You’re a bitch!” You shouted, to which he flipped you the finger and yelled ‘fuck off’ as you and your bandmates drove away.

After dropping off your two other bandmates at home Benny draped your arm across his back and held you at the waist, as you struggled to stand. “’M gonna puke.” You said feeling your stomach doing flips and a sudden cold chill crawl up your spine and settle where your ears and jaw connected. You moved to kneel on the soft grass on the side of your parking area and your hair fell around your face as you retched, trying to use your arms to hold yourself up, they were so tired and your elbows jerked, threatening to give out.

Benny pulled your hair back, seeing a large and deep mark of varying shades of red and purple on your neck, “What the fuck is this?” He asked poking the side of your neck when you finished puking and started to regain your breath. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and mumbled some incoherent words, “What?” He asked again.

“I fucked Roger!” You said loudly, sitting back on the concrete.

“Ssshhh,” He said putting a hand over your mouth “You’re going to wake the whole bloody neighborhood.”

You swayed in your seated position and fell into Benny’s chest, “I fucked Roger,” You said in a loud whisper.

“Yeah, I got that much.” Benny said, hooking his arms under your shoulders and pulling you up with him, the two of you made the long arduous walk to up to your apartment building. Benny laid you in your bed and unlaced your boots, you let out a huff still frustrated with yourself, “Was it good at least?” your roommate asked while handing you a glass of water.

You sat up in your bed and gulped it down “Yes,” you said in a defeated voice “But it doesn’t change anything, I still can’t stand the bloody prick.”

Benny hummed “Right,” He said nodding his head and taking the glass from your hands, “We can talk more about this in a few hours, the birds are chirping.”

---

When you awoke a few hours later you groaned, clutching your head feeling the insistent pounding of a hangover rattling through you and an ache between your legs, “Shit,” You said out loud remembering your actions from the night before. You got out of bed seeing you were still in last night clothes and slipped into an oversized tee shirt and put on some sunglasses to help shield your eyes from the bright light of day before you shuffled out of your bedroom and into the bathroom to find something to curb your headache.

You grabbed the pill bottle of over the counter pain killer and made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water and were greeted by your bandmates all in your living room. You opened your mouth to issue an apology for being a drunken mess last night but before you could get words out Joe interrupted you “Don’t worry, Haz puked all over the nice tile near Freddie’s pool right before we left so you weren’t the worst off.” Haz hid his face bashfully and nodded at you feeling your pain.

You grabbed a glass of water and made yourself comfortable in your usual spot in the living room, not caring that you weren’t wearing pants. You were comfortable enough with your bandmates and paid half the rent here so you really should be able to do whatever you damn well pleased in the place you called home. Much to your dismay you were already thrown a heap of questions “So I heard you fucked Roger last night.” Joe said bluntly.

You paused bringing your glass of water to your mouth to drink and were thankful your sunglasses hid your expression, “Yeah we fucked. What of it?” You asked defensively.

Joe made a face and put his hands up, “I was only making conversation.” He muttered bringing up his cup of tea before drinking it.

You were not going to hear the end of it.

Chapter 2: We Can Hate Each Other in the Morning >>>

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mskinkyafro · 4 years

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Cooking For Two (Aurora & MC)

A/N: Hey everyone, I’m back with a new open heart fic! I’m excited and nervous to share this because it’s my first Aurora x mc fic. I haven’t wrote for her much so I tried to capture her as best I could. I just adore Aurora as a character and I wanted to showcase her friendship with Katrina more and how I envision it in between chapters. Which is more comfortable and friendly than what canon pushes. This is a super cute and fluffy piece that I hope you all enjoy!

*Platonic Pairing*: Aurora & MC

Summary: Katrina & Aurora spend some time in the kitchen.

Side Note: This takes place some time after chapter 6 but before chapter 8. I plan to make more fics around these two and their friendship so if anyone enjoys reading about these two, I’ll make sure to add you to a tag list for any Aurora x MC fic I write.

After an extremely tiring day, Katrina was gratified to finally enter her apartment. Dropping her bag to the ground and kicking off her heels, she reclines back onto the closed door. Running her hand languidly through her hair eases some tension from her body.

“Home at last.” she sighs.

Only a minute passes before she adjusts to get up from her spot to make her way toward the stairs. Right as she takes a step, she feels a graze from a leather-like texture. Looking down, she sees a scowling tortoise greet her.

“Pistachio! I didn’t see you there, buddy. I’m sorry.”

Katrina bends down and picks up the tortoise and presses a small kiss to his head. His scowl leaves and a smile replaces it. Shaking her head in amusement, she puts him down and laughs. As she stands up straight and turns to head to her room, a loud crash followed by a stream of expletives stops her in her track. Spinning in the direction of the kitchen, Katrina rushes over to the next room only to find pans and silverware scattered on the floor, knocked over spices, and a panicked Aurora Emery wiping vigorously at spilled water.

“Fuck! Damn it!”

Katrina cautiously treads into the disarray room, unsure where she should lend a hand at first.

“Aurora? Are you okay?”

“Does it look like it?!”

Katrina shoots her a pointed look. Aurora sighs dejectedly as she gets up from her knees with a drenched rag in hand and carefully moves to ring it out over the sink.

“Sorry to snap on you-- I’m pissed.”

Katrina waves her hand freely.

“It’s fine. So you want to tell me what the hell happened here?”

Katrina reached to push a pile of vegetables to the center of the counter and picked up the topple vials of spices.

“I figured after a few rounds of cooking with Sienna that I could manage a simple dinner for you all. Clearly, I should’ve known better,” she says flinging the wet towel aggressively in the sink.

Aurora leans her back against the cool surface with her shoulders low. Her hand pressed firmly against her forehead. Katrina moves delicately across the damp wooden floor and stands next to the shorter woman and lays a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it in a gentle circular motion.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not all a bust. This is salvageable.”

Aurora looks to meet Katrina’s gaze, her eyes full of sadness.

“How? Everyone else should be home soon. I’d have thirty minutes, max and the recipe takes at least an hour and a half. Besides, I made a mess.”

Katrina looks around them again and notices things she missed when she reached the kitchen; half-peeled potatoes, vegetable oil tipped over the stovetop, opened ground meat hanging dangerously close to the edge of another counter. She walks away from Aurora and starts to gather everything up and organize them in a fashionable order.

“First thing, depending on how you see it, I have good or bad news for you.”

“And that is?”

“Jackie and Sienna are working late on-call shifts tonight and Elijah said he was gonna get drinks with Sothy.”

“That sounds like good news to you? You can just say I did all this for nothing.”

“Wrong! Look at it this way. This can be practice for next time you make dinner for us. Which will be mishap-free and everyone will be home to enjoy it. Bonus, you get a culinary lesson from yours truly.” Katrina tells her as she wipes up some spilled oil with a paper towel.

“You’re willing to help me cook?” Aurora asks shyly.

“Of course! Sienna isn’t the only chef living here. Plus I love you girl, but I don’t think it's wise to leave you alone in the kitchen too long or you’ll burn the place down.” Katrina teases.

“Shut up,” she scoffs. Rolling her eyes playfully.

“Hey, I’m not a person who frequently burns breakfast.”

“Kat, that was one time.”

Katrina looks at Aurora incredulously. The shorter woman avoids eye contact and folds her arms to her chest as she mumbles.

“Fine, only one time in this household."

“Exactly. Look I’m gonna go change real quick. You gather all the vegetables in one pile and everything else and I’ll be back in a few.”

Katrina turns to leave the kitchen and heads to her room. Not much time passed before she returns in baggy red sweatpants and old white wife-beater pulling her hair back in a high puff. Looking around the kitchen and no longer seeing a chaotic scene before her, she stands next to Aurora in front of the stove. She clasps her hands together.

“You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Don’t worry, this is gonna be fun and really easy once you do it more often. I promise.”

“If you say so.” Aurora deadpans. Katrina grins at the woman.

“First, before we begin we have to do the most important step when you begin cooking.”

“Wash our hands?”

Katrina pauses for a moment.

“Okay, the second most important thing?”

Aurora stares at her with a blank stare. With a sly smile, Katrina darts out the kitchen briefly before returning with a beat pill and her cell phone.

“Music, duh. You’re black. You should’ve known that.”

“Whatever,” she says with a bemused smile as she pushes a strand of her jet black hair behind her ear.

Katrina sets the speaker down and turns it on. In her other hand, she scrolls down her music library until her finger pauses and presses on the screen. A blast of soulful noise fills the air as Katrina grabs a large pot and fills it with water and sets it on the stovetop to boil. She shimmies pass Aurora and tosses a potato in her hands and holds out the vegetable peeler.

“Hey sister, go, sister, soul sister. Time to peel these po-tat-toes, po-tat-toes.”

Aurora reaches to grab the peeler and begins peeling the skin off into their trash can as she watches Katrina swing her hips in time with the music.

“Patti Labelle? Really, how old are you?”

“Hey, these are classics. The designated genre to listen to when you are about to throw down in the kitchen. Besides, that’s what makes the food taste even better.”

“Ah-huh, sure.”

Katrina sticks her tongue out playfully at Aurora who giggles at her antics. Katrina smiles to herself noticing that since attending her class reunion, Aurora has opened up more to everyone, finally finding her place. She continues her dancing while cutting up bell peppers and onions. Once she got them finely chopped, she bends down into the lower cabinets to pull out a large skillet and a large loaf pan and sets both on two inactive eyes on the stove. Peering over into the steaming pot and seeing the water bubble she calls out to Aurora.

“How’s it coming, my sous chef?”

Aurora moves to stand beside Katrina and brings the potatoes over, spilling the skinless starch over the counter.

“Finished. What’s next?”

“Okay. Chop them a quarter inch and then I’ll have you drop them into the boiling water and we’ll let them cook. Then you can season the meat.”

Aurora follows Katrina’s instructions as the taller woman lightly sautéed the previously chopped veggies in an oiled saucepan. The strong aroma filters through the air and in her peripheral view, Katrina notices Aurora inhales the scent. Kat takes note of the serene and warm smile that frequents Aurora's face lately. Spooning through the cooked veggies one last time, Katrina turns off the burner and sets the skillet aside to rest. She then reaches to set the ground beef next to Aurora as she prepares the wet ingredients for the recipe. Playfully, she bumps her hips into Aurora prompting the quiet woman to retaliate the same. To her surprise, Aurora dances along with the music, dropping it low before picking it back up.

“Umm, excuse me, Ms. Emery?! You’ve been holding out, girl! Since when have you had moves like that?!”

Throwing her words earlier back at her, Aurora replies with a smirk.

“I’m black, duh.”

“Okay, Ms. Smarty-Pants. How come you can’t cook, then?”

“The same reason why you can’t braid.”

“Damn, you didn’t have to come at me so hard.”

The two women laugh and continue ribbing the other as they continue the tasks at hand. Still chuckling, Katrina grabs the stalk of asparagus and drench them with olive oil and light salt before tossing them into an oven. Once she closes the oven door, she then turns back to Aurora who is now finishing up combining the last of the previously cooked veggies with the wet ingredients and seasoned beef. In her eyes, she looks up at Katrina, questioning that she’s doing things right. With a nod, the two women press the mixture into a loaf pan and place it alongside the rest of the food cooking.

“Okay, the meatloaf and asparagus are gonna take about 35min at least and we got a good 15 before we need to check the pot--”

Katrina freezes in place as she stops talking. Right as Aurora opens her mouth to question what’s wrong, Katrina reaches for her phone and clicks repeatedly on the button on the side, increasing the volume of the music as she begins to rap along obnoxiously loud.

“It's going down, fade to blackstreet

The homies got rb, collab' creations

Bump like acne, no doubt I put it down,

Never slouch As long as my credit can vouch

A dog couldn't catch me ass out

Tell me who can stop when dre makin' moves

Attracting honeys like a magnet

Giving 'em eargasms with my mellow accent

Still moving this flavor,With the homies blackstreet and teddy

The original rump shakers”

She bounces along with the beat, swinging her arm around Aurora. Katrina was going to continue but is cut off by Aurora's own silky voice.

“Shorty get down, good lord, baby got 'em up open all over town

Strictly biz, she don't play around, cover much ground,

Got game by the pound Getting paid is her forte, Each and every day,

True player way I can't get her out of my mind, East side to the west side

Pushin' phat rides, it's No surprise, She got tricks in the stash

Stacking up the cash, Fast when it comes to the gas

By no means average, She's on when she's gotta have it

Baby, you're a perfect ten, I wanna get in, Can I get down,

So I can win I like the way you work it, No diggity, I got to bag it up, bag it up”

Joy lights up in Katrina’s eyes as she urges Aurora to keep going. Together, the two both belt out the song and dance with each other. They shimmy and swing their hips to the next songs in the queue being as carefree as they can be. Time seems to have barely passed before, a timer goes off. Pausing to catch their breaths and control the giggles that escape their lips, Kat reaches to silent the alarm, while Aurora pulls out the food from the oven. Not too long after, the two set down the finished meatloaf, a bowl of mashed potatoes, and a platter of baked asparagus for the table. Aurora sets down two plate sets while Katrina grabs two wine glasses in one hand and carries an opened bottle of wine to the table and sits.

“Wine?”

“Oh yes, please. Definitely needed this.”

“Even more than this feast you prepared? Because it looks and smells amazing.”

As Aurora accepts a glass of wine, Katrina pinpoints a slight blush on her cheeks as she sips.

“Please, I hardly put this together.”

“Ah ah nope. Aurora, you did the grunt work. I just did little things. You totally did this. Enjoy it-- a matter of fact, relish in your success by taking the first bites.”

Nodding, Aurora gathers a healthy serving of everything onto her plate and takes a bite. A moan of satisfaction escapes.

“Damn, you make it sound really good. Let me test it out.” Katrina fixes her plate and once she places her fork into her mouth, it immediately goes back for more.

The two ate in silence minus the music from earlier playing softly in the background. Both preoccupied with the food in front of them. After a few minutes, Aurora speaks.

“I-- I really couldn’t have done this without your help Katrina. For taking the time to spend to teach me. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

Katrina sets her fork down and takes a few sips of her wine.

“It’s nothing. I’m happy you had fun tonight because I did too. I’m more than happy to make a repeat of it if you’re up to it.”

“I’d like that,” Aurora says with a bright smile.

The two talk as they ate, enjoying the rest of their evening.

#open heart 2 #oph 2 #aurora emery #aurora x mc #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction #playchoices #choices stories you play #Aurora emery x mc #choices open heart

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nothingeverlost · 4 years

Text

Fic: Company for Dinner (Little Miss verse)

The day before her birthday Belle invites Ariel, Eric and Neal to dinner. her father invites Gus Aston. Nothing turns out as expected.

He spent the evening polishing the silver. It was a job he should have assigned to one of the maids, but he needed something to do with his hands that didn’t take any focus. He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.

Belle was back. The two weeks she’d been gone had been a reprieve, the first time he’d actually been glad of her absence from the house. And yet he walked around every corner half expecting to see her. Half wanting to see her. Belle’s absence meant two weeks without Mr. Aston and Gold felt no confusion about that subject. If he never saw the man again it would be too soon. It was unfortunate that he was at the same house party as his young miss. Damn the man. And damn Maurice French while he was at it. Belle deserved so much more than being pushed into a marriage with a lout of a man that didn’t understand the point of a book unless it had pictures, a man that enjoyed killing animals for sport, a man who had no appreciation for her interests, intelligence, or imagination. She deserved so much better.

Perhaps she had found it. There was a new gentleman upstairs for dinner. Belle had glowed when she’d spoken of meeting Mr. Cassidy at the party. She spoke of books they had both read and places they both wanted to travel. He was good friends with a prince, certainly an important man in his own right. Gold hoped he was kinder than Mr. Aston. Hoped he was more worthy. Wished he was on the bottom of the ocean. Belle was a day away from her 20th birthday, she didn’t need to marry. There was still time.

“Damn it.” He’d been working on the same spoon for more than five minutes. The only one around was the scullery maid, at least, who was doing her best to avoid pulling his attention towards her. He’d been more short-tempered than usual in the last few weeks, and the staff were all doing their best to avoid his notice.

Caught up in his brooding he almost missed the sound of steps on the stairs. The maids should be upstairs getting the rooms ready for the evening. No one else had a reason to come down to the kitchen. He heard someone talking to themselves in a whisper, and closed his eyes for a moment to fortify himself.

“Miss Belle?” He could see her shadow, long and thin on the stone floor.

“I just needed a moment.” She came down the last few steps but hesitated at the doorway. “I didn’t mean to bother anyone.”

“You’re never a bother, miss.” Her father was trying to push her out of her home; he was not going to make her feel any less welcome. Since she’d returned she only wound up downstairs when she was upset.

“You might be the only person that feels that way.” She wore a dress of emerald green, the beads catching all the light in the room and making her sparkles as if nothing else had any color. The shoes were too tall, catching on the uneven patches on the floor. It was concern for her, and nothing else, that had his staring at her legs. They were bare from the knee down.

“You can take a break, Cindy. Please find someplace else to be right now.” Rum dismissed the maid, who seemed more than happy to find something that didn’t involve scalding water and soiled pots. For the minute it took her to leave he was silent. “Anyone that finds you to be a bother isn’t worth your time.”

“I suppose it’s less about finding me bothersome and more about seeing me as odd. Papa would rather I was more like other girls. And Gus too.” She wrapped her arms around herself, hands clamping around her bare arms. It was warm enough in the kitchen that he knew it wasn’t about warmth.

“What of your guests? I hear we’re entertaining royalty this evening.” The household had been in a flutter for days, knowing a prince was coming. Gold hadn’t given him a thought. It was the other guest that had occupied his mind.

“Eric is besotted with Ariel, and Neal doesn’t mind my peculiarities. He knows so many of the same stories we do, Rum. The Odyssey, Peter Pan, so many of our favorite adventures.” For the first time since coming below stairs she looked something other than miserable. She liked the young man. “Gus wishes to speak with me. My father ushered everyone else to the drawing room so we could be alone. I thought I had more time, Rum.”

She dropped her gaze, trying without success to hide the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes. He had a clean handkerchief and for just a moment thought about drying her eyes himself. A foolish thought that he rejected when he handed her the cloth. “He’s not worth your tears.”

“It’s the first birthday I’ve had at home in three years. He’ll want to make an announcement and then it won’t be about my birthday anymore, it will be about the future Belle Aston. I’m losing myself already.” She held the handkerchief but didn’t use it, a single tear falling down her cheek. He’d seen her cry before but not since she’d returned home. The tears of a child had made him want to comfort her. The tears of a woman, the woman he loved with all of his heart, made him want to thump someone with his cane and then comfort her in ways that were completely inappropriate. “I thought I’d come up with a way to at least slow this all down but my father ambushed me with this tonight. He’s so eager to finally get the son he’s always wanted.”

“If he’s so eager for Mr. Aston to join the family it’s not too late for adoption,” Gold huffed. It earned at least a small smile from Belle.

“It would be a better addition than that horrid Mrs. Mills he’s had over lately.” She made a face he understood completely. For a man that spent most of his time working and was still, after a decade, trying to prove his value it wasn’t hard to see why Maurice French was taken in by a woman like Regina Mills. As for Regina, her interest had nothing to do with the man and everything to do with his bank account. He’d heard whispers about her, two mysterious deaths, and a fortune that was being spent far too quickly to last.

“Some people have standards.” Rum limped over to the sink and filled a teakettle and a glass of water, leaving the kettle on the stove and bringing the cup back to the table. “Drink up. We’ll have tea shortly but the cool water will soothe your throat.”

“I can’t stay down here.” She looked over at the stairs that led to the upper hall and wherever Mr. Aston was waiting. Gold wished he could set that room, whichever it was, on fire.

“You can stay for a little while.” It wasn’t much of a reprieve, what he could offer. A cup of tea and a few minutes of safety. At best Aston would be annoyed enough to leave but he’d be back tomorrow. He couldn’t just let her leave, though. “No one would think to look for you here.”

“It’s not too late to run away and become pirates,” she said, slightly in jest but mostly with wistfulness. “I could though, couldn’t I? Not the pirate part, but I could leave. Run off somewhere. My father isn’t going to just accept me refusing Gus.”

His heart all but stopped at the idea of her leaving. Being alone in the world with no one to look after her. A lifetime of not knowing where she was, if she was safe, if she was happy. “I don’t...”

“Belle?” Despite his assurance someone, apparently, had thought to look for her below stairs. Not Maurice; the voice wasn’t deep enough and the steps were too light. It was a man, though, and not Aston which left one of the evening’s other guests. Gold’s hand tightened on the handle of his cane.

“I can make them leave,” he offered, looking at the still visible tear stain on Belle’s cheek.

“It’s alright.” Belle shook her head.

A moment later a young man came down the last few steps. He was, perhaps, a few years older than Belle, his skin tanned and healthy looking, his body whole. He smiled when he saw Belle. “Ariel said she thought she say you come this way.”

“I just needed…” She frowned a little, probably at a loss to explain why she was in the kitchen, speaking with the butler. She picked up her glass of water, taking a sip. “Were you sent to find me?”

“No, I was worried. I made an excuse to your father and doubled back to the dining room but you weren’t there. That Aston cad was pacing, doesn’t seem to be a patient sort. I don’t trust him, Belle.” He wasn’t predisposed to like the young man speaking so informally to his Belle, but at least they shared the same opinion of Aston. That was a point in the boy’s favor.

“My father expects us to announce an engagement tomorrow.” A pained expression flickered across her face. Gold’s hand fluttered at his side. He wanted to touch her but even without the stranger it would be a bad idea.

“Then we beat him to it. I’ll tell everyone tomorrow we’re engaged.” The stranger spoke so glibly, so easily about an engagement. He’d never even heard of the lad until a few days ago and he thought he was worth Miss Belle’s hand?

“Engaged?” He spoke louder than he should. He shouldn’t have spoken at all, not in front of the other man. He was the butler, a servant. He didn’t care. “Belle?”

“Neal’s helping me,” she tried to explain, turning towards him and pressing a hand to his elbow. Her touch was warm, almost uncomfortably so. It was rare that anyone touched him, other than her, and it had been weeks since she’d had a reason to do so. “It’s not real, but he’s my friend and we thought...”

“Papa?” He’d all but forgotten the man in the room, his focus on Belle and her hand on his elbow. The news that she was engaged, and the explanation that she wasn’t made him dizzy and for a moment he didn’t understand the word. Not until the sound of the voice penetrated his heart. The voice was deeper, the accent all wrong, but in that moment he could hear an echo of that same word. It had been twenty years but it was still the most precious sound he’d ever heard. He turned to the stranger, hair less curly, but almost the same shade, taller, a man grown. The eyes were the same. How had he missed that?

“Bae?” He stumbled a little, catching himself on Belle’s shoulder without thinking about right or wrong or formality. He barely thought about anything but the fact that he couldn’t stand on his own and she was the only person he could trust to be at his side. He wasn’t aware of how tight his fingers dug into her muscles or the marks he was leaving on her skin.

“Rum?” He could feel Belle looking at him even though he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the man apparently going by Neal now. The man with an easy smile and a straight back, looking healthy and whole.

“My boy.” He couldn’t stop staring at him, just a few steps away. A minute ago his stomach had tightened in pain when the stranger had entered the kitchen and spoken of an engagement to Belle. A stranger who he had no reason to accept as any more worthy than Mr. Aston. Now his stomach was just as tense but for a whole other reason. His son. Twenty years of grieving, of fear, of not even knowing if his Bae was still alive and through some miracle they stood in the same room.

“How is this possible?” Bae - Neal - took a step forward, eyes squinting in the low light of the kitchen as if he couldn’t trust his senses. “You were in Scotland.”

“I couldn’t bare to stay there after, not without you.” They had been gone. He’d sent Bae off to school one day, Milah still abed When he’d returned from work the cottage had been dark. Milah’s things had been gone and most of Bae’s clothes, though most of his toys had remained. He still had them, the ball and the stuffed rabbit, the blanket that was almost worn from so many washings. For twenty years they’d been all he had of his boy.

“He’s been here since I was ten.” Belle spoke for him, her voice seeming farther away than was possible considering he still used her shoulder rather than his forgotten cane for support. It wasn’t fair of him. He tried to move away but she leaned closer, their sides almost touching. It seemed like the only warmth he felt was from her closeness.

“Milah said you didn’t want us.” He didn’t miss that his son called his mother by her name. Didn’t miss the sound of pain in his voice either.

“I always wanted you, Bae. Always.” He almost couldn’t breathe to imagine his boy thinking that he was unwanted. He would rather his son hated him than thought himself abandoned. “I looked for you. I paid a detective but after a year there were no leads and my money was running out.”

“She said it was an adventure. We went to Germany, Spain, France, Greece. Lived on a ship for a while and an island. She married a man named Cassidy, and changed our names. It wasn’t the last time she married but I stopped changing my name.” Neal spoke without emotion for a minute, a recitation of facts no different than giving a report in front of a class. Afterwards he seemed to find the floor very interesting. He didn’t look up before asking, “You really searched for me?”

“I did, Bae. I swear I did.” He took two steps closer to his boy, letting go of Belle for the first time, his steps uneven. It was all he needed, Neal meeting him more than halfway. His boy didn’t vanish like smoke this time when he reached to touch him, not like he had a thousand times in dreams. Instead warm arms wrapped around him. His son was taller than he was.

He didn’t realize Belle had moved until he heard her steps on the stairs. He had a thousand questions to ask his boy and a desire to just stare. Belle mattered just as much, though, and she was trying to face the lions alone. “Belle you can’t.”

“You need time alone, just the two of you.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “It’s amazing, Rum. Your son.”

“It’s a miracle, and it’s because of you. Stay, have some tea.” He was scared to watch her leave, knowing what waited above stairs for her. He was scared, too, to be alone with his boy. What if he was a complete disappointment and his boy left? What if he said the wrong thing and lost him all over again? “Please?”

“I’ll come see you before I retire for the evening, Rum.” When she touched his hand she was trembling. Or maybe it was him.

“Belle?” His boy was only a step behind him.

“I’ll see you at the ball tomorrow, Neal. For my birthday.” She smiled at him, genuine but not happy. “I’m so glad for you both.”

And then she was gone, up the stairs with barely a sound.

“She won’t really marry him, will she?” Even though he couldn’t see Belle Gold found it hard to look away. It was only the fact that it was his son asking that he finally turned.

“I don’t know.” The teakettle was boiling, and had been for the last few minutes. He limped over to the stove and took it off the heat. “She doesn’t like to disappoint her father.”

“What kind of father is he?” Bae sounded angry. Gold was too tired for anger tonight.

“Very opinionated and full of bluster when he’s around. An absentee father, much of the time.” Gold winced, remembering how much he had to miss of his son’s life even before he’d lost him. It had taken long hours of work to keep a roof over their head and food on the table. “Never the father she deserved.”

“You love her.” His boy stared at him as he mechanically made two cups of tea. The honey pot slipped from his grasp when Bae spoke, smashing to the ground in a sticky mess. No one knew how he felt, not even Belle. No one could know.

“She was a wee lass when we met, not much older than you were before I lost you. Of course I care about her.” It wasn’t wrong to admit to that much.

“Papa, I saw the way you looked at her.” His son’s hand was strong, when it wrapped around his wrist, keeping him from bending down to clean up the mess he’d made. “Let me clean this up.”

“She won’t be happy with him.” He took the tea to the table, hoping that sugar was an acceptable sweetener. His boy had loved honey as a child, but he didn’t have any more. “She deserves to be happy.”

“We’ll figure something out.” His boy sounded certain when he came to the table, sitting across from him. He wished he had half as much faith.

Gold’s smile was unconvincing, but he didn’t argue. “Tell me about you, Bae. Tell me everything.”

“Everything? It’s been twenty years, papa.” His boy’s grin was achingly familiar.

“Tell me anything you want.” It was the only good thing he had right now, his boy sitting across from him, speaking to him. He wanted two things in the world, and by some miracle he had one of them.

“Remember how I used to dream of being a pirate? I was as sick as a dog my first week at sea, when Eric taught me how to sail.” His Bae began his story and Gold did his best to focus completely, and not think about what was happening above stairs.

#verse: little miss #fic: little miss #rumbelle fic #belle french #neal cassidy #belle french & Neal cassidy #mr. Gold #my fic #thestraggletag

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azritesx3 · 4 years

Text

“A Devil’s Love” Chapter 3: It’s Not A Date

Description: Chloe’s best friend is back, and Lucifer’s charm can’t seem to affect her either. Is she also a miracle child? Or something…more? [Story starts during S2 Ep4, Female Reader Insert]

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AN: Updated March 14, 2020 - Grammar, Mention of a new character, Mention of a previous relationship AN: Updated July 15, 2020 - Grammar, Minor story change

Rating: Teen Warning[s]: Swearing

Show Timeline: Season 2 after episode 11

Spotify Playlist /// AO3 Fanfiction Net Wattpad DeviantArt

Tag List: @ayanna-wild, @anushay1998, @emiwrites3reads, @i-am-canada-13, @heart-of-pots-and-pans, @tinyybiceps, @jessicarene99, @lucifersnipnips, @givemebooksorgivemedeath, @sailor-earth-1

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It was so...quiet.

You walked down the steps in LUX. No drinks were being served. No bodies were grinding up against each other on the dance floor. No one made out in the dark corners.

The only music that filled the empty space was a piano, which was being played by the only other soul in the room besides you.

“Lucifer.”

“Hello, K9.” He gave you a small smile and stopped playing, “I was just playing my goodbye tune.”

“Goodbye?” You looked at him, head tilted in puzzlement.

“Yes. It seems no amount of money will please that swine of a woman, and besides,” he lightly traced his fingertips over the keys, then smiles back up at you, “I've come to learn that ‘home’ is more than just a building.”

“Well, that's good,” you gave an over dramatic sigh, “but that totally ruins my thank you.”

Lucifer looked at you confused. You motioned for him to scoot over on the piano bench and sat down next to him, handing him a blue folder.

“What's this?”

“A certificate from the city. Stating that LUX is now a historic building and cannot be torn down under any circumstances.” You smiled.

“K9...” Lucifer was in complete bewilderment as he looked at the paper, “How did you…”

After a beat of him not continuing his question, you answered, “Well, I got the idea when you told me the little history quirks this place had. So, once I finished the case, I went to Chloe because I knew she had connections in that area. And,” you tapped on the paper, “presto!”

“K9...Thank you.” he smiled warmly at you.

“Yeah well, you should thank Chloe too.” You looked away from him slightly to try to stop the rising blush on your face, “Plus, I in no way can help you in getting the deed back from Eleanor. I mean,” you chuckled softly and looked back to him after cooling down, “I'm sure she'll sell it back to you now since she can't build her dumb mega mall, but definitely way above market value.”

“Of that I have no doubt, but K9,” Lucifer placed the folder down on the piano and turned his body towards you, “what did you mean by ‘this ruins my thank you’?”

“Oh, well, um,” you couldn't stop the blush this time, “I just felt like I had to properly thank you for that construction company.” You looked down at your lap in embarrassment, “I know it seems like a silly thing, but those guys really pulled through with my building. Once I hire some staff I can open up within two weeks, at most.”

“My dear K9,” you couldn't help but look back up at him at the sound of amusement in his voice, “if you wanted to find a proper way of thanking me you should have come to me, because I'm afraid this isn't it.”

“Um.” You looked back and forth between the discarded folder and the man next to you with wide eyes, “It isn't?”

“Nope! Afraid not!”, He gave the “p” in “nope” an extra pop. Lucifer was back in full form.

Oh boy.

“Now, I am in no way ungrateful for this gift, I assure you,” he placed a hand on the folder, “buuut,” he sang, “there is only one form of a ‘thank you’ that I will accept.” He smiled devilishly and leaned forward towards you.

“And...that is?”

“You.”

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

“Um...you ok there Ms.?” Alice sits on your bed holding a cup of tea. You don't see it, but she looks more amused than concerned.

And why can't you see her expression? Because you're currently standing, with your back to her, in front of your closet staring at nothing for at least five minutes.

“Yup.” You continue to stare into the dark abyss of clothes, “Super.”

“You say this isn't a date, but you sure are stressing like a woman going on a date.”

“It's not a date, Ali!” You finally move your body to face Alice and give her a stern look.

“Uh-huh.” Alice just smiles up at you as she takes a sip of her tea.

“It's not, Alice. How many times do I have to tell you?” You start to feel a bit frustrated and turn back to your closet.

“Until I start believing it.”

“I only agreed to tonight to make sure he's good for Chloe.” You say to your closet.

Alice sighs and places her tea down on your nightstand, “Earth, stop using Chloe as an excuse. I think Lucifer really does-”

“NO!” You whirl on your sidekick, “He does not. He's a playboy nightclub owner who tries to get under everyone's skin!” Your nostrils flare, “And Chloe is not an excuse!” You point at Alice with one hand while the other balls into a fist, “You didn't hear what those two said about each other at court yesterday. They-” you slowly start to breathe in and out. Alice didn't deserve this, “they have...a connection.”

Good little Alice didn't yell or fight back. She just sat there and listened to your ranting with a serious expression on her face. No judgment. No eye-rolling.

She pats the spot next to her and you sit, “I have to make sure Chloe will be all right with him.” You say to the floor.

“Earth,” Alice wraps an arm around your shoulders, “You deserve to find that kind of connection too.”

“No, Alice. I've been through that before and you know what happened. I'm good with just worrying about you and Damien." You close your eyes and shake your head slightly, “I can't go through something like that again. Not when he still has so much damn power over me."

“But Lucifer might be able to-”

“No.”

Alice sighs. She knows that “no” means to stop talking about it. Against her better judgment, however, she will humor you, “So, what does this ‘connection’ between Chloe and Lucifer look like?”

You heard her, but didn't answer. Alice squeezes your shoulders after some time.

“Earth?” She whispers.

“Soulmates.” You chuckle, not happily, when the word escapes your mouth, “Something I don't even believe in, and there it is.” You visibly swallow, “They're the perfect example.”

“Maybe you're wrong. Maybe it's different.” You just shake your head in response.

Your phone pings on the nightstand. The sound was that of the text message alert you picked for Chloe. You stand up and walk over to your phone. Unlocking it and reading the message, you give Alice more of that pitiful chuckle.

“Still think it's different?” You hold up your phone screen to Alice so she can read Chloe's message:

I kissed him. KISSED him, and I didn't want to stop. How the hell am I going to face him tomorrow? :sweatingemoji:

“So,” you pull the phone away once you see Alice done, “you going to help me pick an outfit now?”

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

“Uhhh,” you stuttered and moved away from him slightly, “excuse me?”

“Well someone has a dirty mind! Don’t worry darling, I don’t mean in that way. Well,” he followed you, making your attempt to escape for not, “unless you're up for that.” He stared deeply into your eyes and licked his lips.

You practically fell off the piano bench.

Lucifer laughed loudly, “Come come, my dear! I’ll stop now, I swear.” He grabbed your arm before you fell and pulled you back up.

“Yeah. Right.” You warily replied.

“I’m a man of my word, K9.” He smiled, then looked at you with interest, “Honestly K9, I had quite a fun time working with you on this case. What with both of us having the same wit,” he started counting off his fingers, “both becoming quite nauseated at the sight between Eric and Christi, and your impeccable knowledge on the correct height for a proper suicide jump.” His eyes sparkled, “Plus you have some fantastic dance moves, dear. Makes me wonder what other talents you have.”

You had no response to give the man. You were too focused on calming your heartbeat.

“So, here’s how I would like my favor repaid:” he continued, "let me take you out. I want to learn more about you, K9. Honest.” You looked at him, and you could see the honesty in his eyes. It made you feel more...comfortable.

“Well,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, “alright. If that’s what you want.”

“Oh it is, very much so.” He smiled so brightly at you, “I will make sure it’s fun for you as well, my dear. I hear from the Detective, and that lovely assistant of yours, that you’ve been all work work work since arriving.”

“Well, you have to ‘work work work’ in order to survive.”

“For you humans yes, but last night I saw a woman who was just begging to let loose.”

“It has been an exhausting couple of months back…”

“Lovely!” Lucifer looked genuinely excited now, “It’s settled then! I’ll text you the details once I’ve made them.” You smiled and nodded.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

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

“This is absolutely 100% bad.”

You can feel the anxiety building up in your stomach as you drive to LUX. As hard as you tried, you could not convince Lucifer to just send you the address to wherever he was taking you. He insisted that you arrive at LUX first, “Let me take you for a ride in my corvette! :winkieface: :devilemoji:”

The thought of spending an entire evening alone with Lucifer is anxiety-ridden enough, but now knowing you were also going to be stuck in a vehicle with him driving made it worse. You’ve heard the horror stories from Chloe.

Trying to calm yourself, you choose one of your favorite songs on your phone to play through the speaker. Focusing on singing to the song made the thoughts of tonight ease away.

Until you pull into the LUX parking garage, of course. You stop your car and hand the keys to the valet. The security guards let you skip ahead of the ever long line.

You stand at the top of the stairs with your hands on the railing. You scan the floor in search of Lucifer, but he was nowhere to be found within his crowd.

I’m here. You text him.

Wonderful! Come on up to my penthouse, dear! I’m almost done getting ready. The elevator is to the left from the entrance.

The first thought to cross your mind is how Lucifer is the first guy you met who takes longer than Damien to get ready. The second is the anxiety vomit that wants to burst its way out of you when he tells you to come up to his penthouse.

You swallow it down, though, and wipe your sweaty palms on your dress as you walk into the elevator and press the button to go up. You expected the ride to be longer, so when the elevator doors seem to open after less than a minute you squeak in surprise.

“Is that you, K9?” You hear Lucifer’s voice off in the distance as you exit the elevator.

“Um, yeah.” You say nervously.

“I’ll be done in just a minute! Make yourself at home!”

“Yeah, sure,” you whisper, mainly to yourself rather than to him. Your eyes widen in awe at the beauty of his penthouse.

The space is entirely sleek black, with pops of color from the furniture and small decor. The light that illuminated the space came from the huge private bar, an upside-down tree that hung from the ceiling, and a fire that was burning brightly in a far corner. To the left, Lucifer has an amazing looking library, and you have to physically imagine that you are superglued to the floor. Otherwise, you would have just ran over there and started reading. The bar is to your right, and under the upside tree stood another piano. In the middle of the space are some orange-colored, expensive-looking, couches with a coffee table and flat-screen tv.

You walk next to the piano and through the wall of windows you can see that Lucifer has a magnificent view of LA. You also see, to your right, Lucifer’s large bed covered in silky looking black sheets. There's no door separating the bedroom from the rest of the space. Instead, it's separated by an antique-looking wall on the left and an intricate colorful stained glass piece to the right.

Becoming braver, you take the step down into the living room. Around the corner of the antique wall, you can see that the balcony wraps around and spot a hot tub.

“Seriously? A hot tub too?”

“It’s my companions’ favorite feature when I bring them up here. Well, besides my bed of course.” You squeak again in surprise and spin on your heels to face Lucifer. He stood in the entryway to his bedroom and was smiling down at you.

“My my, you look positively stunning K9.” He continues to smile as he descends his bedroom steps. Adjusting his cufflinks, he looks you up and down. You're wearing a green, long sleeve, cocktail dress with a hollowed-out design. On your feet, you wear white sandal wedges with the same type of hollowed-out design. You can hear him make a delightful purring sound when he sees how your wedges made your legs look more toned.

“Um, thank you.” You aren't quite sure how to react, or how you are feeling at this moment.

“You’re welcome. Now come along, darling.” Lucifer pushes out his arm to you and you wrap your hand around it, “Let’s get to know each other!”

Lucifer leads you to his black corvette. Opening the passenger door for you he says to “get comfy” for it was an hour ride.

An hour. In a car. With him as the driver.

The seats are indeed comfy, but unfortunately they were doing nothing to calm your racing heart.

There's something else you notice about the car that was not helping your heart rate, “Um, Lucifer. Where are the seatbelts?”

He just smiles devilishly at you as he turns the car on, puts the car in reverse, quickly backs out of the parking space, and zooms out of his parking garage.

Fuck.

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

"I told you that I'd make this fun for you as well, darling."

It has been fifteen minutes into the ride, and you are just now realizing that Lucifer has been following all traffic laws.

"Oh…" you slowly release your hold on the car seat and door, "Sorry…" you feel completely embarrassed.

"No worries, K9. I had a thought that you've heard about my incredible driving from the Detective, and since you are also a cop I figured you would be more comfortable following the silly laws."

"Laws are there for a reason, Lucifer."

"Ah yes, and the reason is to be broken!" Lucifer gives you a wink and a smile. You turn your head away so he can't see your small smile.

"What kind of music do you like, darling?" Lucifer asks you after giving you a moment to calm fully down.

"Hmm," you think for a minute, "honestly? Anything."

"Truly?" Lucifer looks curiously at you, "Even gospel? Rap? Bloody country? The music that's called my music?"

You chuckle, "If I listen to the song enough I usually tend to like it. Unless the lyrics make absolutely no sense."

"Surely you must have a favorite genre though?"

"Hmm," you tap your chin in thought, "guess it'd have to be alternative."

"Lovely!" Lucifer turns his radio on to an alternative/rock station. For the rest of the ride he sings and taps to the songs, and you tap and hum along with him.

You aren't comfortable enough to sing around him.

Not yet, anyway.

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

The car ride ends when Lucifer pulls into some hotel's parking garage, and you give him a warning glare.

"We're not here for the hotel, sadly." Lucifer opens the car door for you and leads you by the small of your back.

"Then why are we here?"

"For the hotel's restaurant!" He leads you through the lobby of the hotel and through two huge glass double doors.

"Wow." You can't stop the amazement forming on your face at how beautiful this place is.

The restaurant's called "Openarie", and it lives up to its name. The structure is basically one giant greenhouse. Pots of various plants are hung on the ceiling and along the walls. Fairy lights light the space and the floor's pure concrete. Outside you see a dance floor with a small band on an elevated stage. There are a few couples out there swaying to the music.

"I take it I've done well?" Lucifer looks down at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Eh. So far." You just shrug and give him a sarcastic smile.

Both of you walk up to the booth and Lucifer gives his last name to the host. The host leads you two to a table seated for two, and thankfully there are no other parties around the table. Lucifer pulls out your chair for you to sit as the host puts the menus on the table.

"I take it since it's pretty busy in here and there's no one seated at the tables around us, you rented those out too?" You ask him, eyebrow raised, as you take a sip of water that your waitress puts down.

"Correct!" Lucifer gives you his devilish smile, "I wanted to make sure we weren't interrupted."

"More like overhead." You scuff, "Are you expecting me to tell you all my secrets?"

"Just the ones you're willing to share, darling."

You hum in response and look down at the menu while Lucifer orders some wine.

You look quizzically at the menu, "This looks like-"

"Shareable meals, yes." Lucifer smiles at your expression and takes a sip of the wine, "It's the theme of this place. People getting to know each other through shared food. Most of the time it goes well, hence the attachment to the hotel." His smile turns flirtatious.

"You actually did research for this?"

"That surprises you?"

"Well...yeah." Lucifer's smile turns small as he looks to his own menu.

Within a few minutes, the two of you manage to decide on an appetizer, meal, and dessert. Both of you engage in idle chatter while eating the appetizer, but once the main course arrives Lucifer wants to start asking those questions.

"So, my dear," Lucifer leans forward a bit and stares at you with interest, "tell me something about you."

"Before I do that I would like to talk to you about something." You place your napkin on your lap and have a bite of the food.

"Oooh, a twist! Alright then, K9." Lucifer does the same as you.

"What's your relationship with Chloe?"

Lucifer has to cover his mouth with a napkin to keep the food in from his laughter, "Well, aren't we the little overprotective friend?"

"Yes." You look at him seriously enough for his laughter to die, "I am."

"Alright. I'll answer your question, but first answer me this," Lucifer leans forward again, "Why?"

You pause, "Why?" When he nods you take a breath and look him in the eyes, "Because she's...my friend. Best friend."

"Yes, but you don't show this possessiveness with Ms. Green."

You sigh, "Because," you have to take another breath, "she's the first person to not fake anything with me. The first person not to lie to me. The first person…" you pause, "...who made me feel comfortable." You look at him now, "The first one to make me feel like it's ok to be myself."

Lucifer gives you a genuine smile, and his eyes are filled with no judgment. Just approval.

"Well then, we have another thing in common, K9."

You smile back at him. "Good. So how about an answer to my question?"

"It's quite simple, my dear." Lucifer takes a sip of wine, "She's my partner."

"But in what sense?" It's your turn to lean forward, pressing on, "How do you feel about her?"

"You sound like my therapist." Lucifer evades your question by taking a large sip of his drink.

"Look Lucifer," you intertwine your hands and place them on the table, "Chloe told me about the kiss." He's looking at you now, "I just want to make sure that she'll be ok. That she won't end up with another 'detective douche'."

Lucifer chuckles at the mention of his nickname for Dan, "What makes you think I'd be douche number two?"

"Well," you shrug and look up at the imaginary list in your head, "you're a player. You have a man, woman, both, or even multiple genders in your bed every night. You flirt with everyone. Oh and," you look back at him, "Chloe isn't someone who would appreciate getting dagger glares from another female while on a date."

"What makes you think she'd be getting glares from someone else while with me?"

"Because there's a tall blond woman who's been giving me daggers since we got here." You move your head in the direction behind him and drink your water. He turns a full 180 in his chair and says surprisingly:

"Mum?!"

You almost spit out your drink.

Did he just say mom?!

The woman smiles, finally being noticed, and saunters over to your table. She stops next to Lucifer's seat, "Hello, my son." She says with a fake surprise to her voice, "It truly is a small world my husband has created after all." She looks at you and sneers, "I'm Charlotte Richards, Lucifer's mother."

"Mother." Lucifer stands up and turns his body to her, blocking your view of his face, "Why are you here?" His question comes out as a hiss.

"I'm here for a company dinner."

"By yourself?" You speak up, and slightly regret it at the look she gives you.

"Most have left while others went to the dance floor." She says matter of factly.

Uh-huh. Your police senses start tingling.

"Well, if your companions have left then you should too." Lucifer says, "It's terribly embarrassing to be the only one at a table."

"I'm sorry, son!" She feigns ignorance, "Am I ruining your date?"

"This isn't a date." You say without thinking. She looks at you curiously with a raised brow, "I'm just...returning a favor."

"Yes," Lucifer says quietly. You think you see his shoulders slump slightly, but just mistake it.

The Goddess, however, sees the quick emotion of confusion slip past her son's eyes.

That's all she needs.

"I see. Well, I'm sorry to have interrupted." She smiles at you, "Goodbye." She gives Lucifer one final look before strutting out of the restaurant.

"I'm sorry about her." Lucifer sits back down.

"No worries. Protective mother, I presume?"

Lucifer scoffs and takes a sip of wine, "Hardly."

The trouble you see inside Lucifer is hurting you, for some reason. So to try and get rid of that cloud on him, you decide to start talking more about you instead of Chloe.

You aren't too worried about her with him anymore.

"Well, how about I actually start this favor." That perks him up, "What would you like to know?"

"Do you want to trade mothers?" You burst out into genuine laughter, and you can see it pleases Lucifer considerably. He's back.

"Unfortunately, for you, I don't have one."

"What?"

"I grew up in an orphanage. From there to various foster homes."

"You wouldn't consider any of those foster parents as parents?"

"Nope." You pop the "p" and drink your water.

Lucifer starts to continue his questioning, but pauses as the waitress gathers our eaten meal and places down our desert. Once she's out of earshot he continues:

"You have no knowledge of your real parents?"

You're quiet for a second, using the excuse to take a bite out of the chocolate cake, "Nope." No pop to the "p" this time.

Lucifer hums and takes a bite of the cake himself, "Why did you come back to LA?"

"Well," you give it a considerate thought, "I did miss Chloe a lot. Plus, even though I'm not too fond of children, I feel a bit guilty for not being here to help her out with Trixie."

"You despise children too?" Lucifer looks ecstatic, "I'm enjoying you more and more, K9."

You laugh, "Yes I don't like children and have no wish to birth any, but that doesn't mean I might not want to adopt or foster." You take another bite, "Since I know what it's like to have that kind of life and all. Plus," you point your fork at him, "I may 'despise' children, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't risk my life to save one. No one should die so young and innocent."

"Of course, and I agree." You just give him that "uh-huh I don't believe you" look while you chew on another bite.

"My next question is," he takes another bite, "why did you leave?"

Your fork pauses mid-air to your mouth. The memories whizzing by in front of your eyes.

"K9?" You're brought back to the present by Lucifer’s hand on yours. He looks fairly concerned.

"I'm sorry." You put the fork down and remove your hand from his, "That's too-"

"Private. It's quite alright dear." Lucifer gives you a warm smile, "I told you I only want to know what you're willing to give."

"Thank you." You smile back at him and you two finish the desert with Lucifer now asking "typical" get to know me questions.

What's your favorite color? Green. What's your favorite book and movie genre? Mystery, fiction, and fantasy for books. Musicals for movies. Don't like horror or thrillers? No, I don't like the feeling of my heart during those. Do you have any hobbies? I enjoy gardening and volunteering at animal shelters. Sounds boring. For you, yeah. Pet peeves? A man named Lucifer Morningstar. Haha, very funny. Thanks.

Dessert is now finished. Lucifer pays and tips the blushing waitress. You hear the band outside start to play a more upbeat tune, and can't help but stare.

"Would you like to dance, darling?" Lucifer smiles down at you and holds out his hand.

"Yes." You smile back and take his hand, "I would."

You two dance together until the band leaves for the night and head back to the corvette.

"Hey, Lucifer?" You look at him while he pulls out onto the road.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Drive." Lucifer smiles so brightly at you. He turns the radio full blast and drives without a care in the world.

This time you sing along with him.

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

While Lucifer parks in his parking garage he manages to convince you to come up to the penthouse. There he gives you a glass of water, after failing to hand you whiskey instead, and you both sit on the Italian leather sofa. This time you're the one asking the typical get to know me questions.

What's your favorite color? Black. Yeah I really should have guessed that one. Quite. What's your favorite book and movie genre? Erratic books and porn. Uh-huh, do you have any hobbies--No, wait I think I know this one: watching porn, having sex, doing drugs, and drinking? You know me so well already K9, but you forgot about me helping the Detective on cases. That’s a job Lucifer, not a hobby. Is it? Hm. Any pet peeves? Humans blaming me for all their wrongdoing. What? Oh, that’s right. Your whole “devil” shtick. It’s not a shtick.

Once 2 am rolls around you decide it’s time to head home. You bid Lucifer farewell, and you might be going crazy from tiredness, but it looked like he wanted to say something to you. He says nothing, however, and bids you farewell as well.

As the elevator goes down to the garage you check your phone for the first time that night and see a bunch of text messages from Alice.

“It’s about time!” You decide to call her.

“Hello to you too, Ali.” The elevator doors open and you start the track to your car.

“Sooo, how’d your not-date go?”

“Honestly? Not bad.”

“You enjoyed yourself?”

“Yeah,” you smile to yourself, “Yeah. I did.”

“When’s the next not-date date?”

“There is no next time, Ali. This was just returning a favor.”

“Did it look like Lucifer enjoyed it?”

“Well-”

“Earth!” You're surprised to hear your name being called. You look over your shoulder and see Lucifer. He wasn’t running, but he was taking large strides towards you, and he was...smiling?

“Lucifer-” The heat behind you cut you off.

It’s like everything went into slow motion. You turn towards your car and see a bright white light and feel heat.

Very, very, hot heat.

You feel the fabric on your arms burn away as you cover your face. You drop your phone as you're pushed back into the air with huge force. You brace yourself to fall on concrete, but instead you hit a body. A toned body that holds you like wall support.

You chance a peek to the outside world, and all you can see before shutting them again is an arm in dark sleeves around you. The hand attached to the arm wore a familiar onyx ring.

Lucifer.

How did he...

But you couldn’t speak. Your throat's shut tight, and the only thing your brain can focus on right now is the pain happening over your entire body.

You can faintly hear Lucifer call out to you over the ringing of your ears.

You can feel Lucifer pick you up in his arms and run outside. You remember seeing more blinding lights, but this time of familiar colors, arrive around the nightclub.

Someone forced you out of Lucifer’s arms, and you can hear his panicked yelling as someone else pushed him back from you.

Then your world went dark.

#a devil's love #lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer #fanfic #fanfiction #azritesx3 #azookiex3

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deaky-disco-queen · 4 years

Text

Relax - Breaky Week Day 4

A/N: Getting started with Breaky week (Finally!) Written for the prompts Ridge Farm and Spanking ;) @painkiller80

Can also be read on AO3.

+++

Ridge Farm was beautiful and exactly what they needed to record their album. Far away from any distractions the city offered and with only the animals on the farm as company aside from the few people for the sound crew they had brought. All in all, it was perfect.

Except Brian hated it.

At first, he had been glad to have the room he had gotten. It wasn’t as big as Freddie’s but it was big enough and he was way better off than Deaky, who could barely extend his arms without grazing the walls. But then he went to bed and his bed proved to be the noisiest thing ever. He couldn’t even breathe without having the bed creak ever so softly. So he opted to just lay stiffly on top of the mattress, hoping he would fall asleep eventually but every time he was close to dozing off, he shifted involuntarily and the creaking woke him up again.

Brian was in agony.

He was tired. They had only been here for three days and it started to wear down on him. He maybe got three hours of sleep in and it made him cranky and gloomy. He had never been a morning person and the more sleep he got, the better. It just didn’t seem like it was happening for him.

With an annoyed sigh, Brian got up. The bed creaked loudly and he flinched at the sound. He put his slippers on and quietly slipped out of his room. It was cold and he kind of regretted not putting on a long-sleeved shirt but he didn’t want to go back and search for one right now so he just went downstairs.

The kitchen was dark and he had to blink several times when he turned on the light. The clock told him it was three in the morning and Brian groaned softly. MAybe some tea would help.

Going through the cabinets, he found some chamomile tea and set up the kettle for some hot water. He didn’t want to wake anyone so he waited anxiously to get it before the whistle got too loud. The tea wasn’t really great- he didn’t want to know how long it had been here already- but he drank it anyway because he couldn’t do much else, really.

Of course the tea didn’t occupy him for very long and he sighed. He was so tired, his brain felt all fuzzy and heavy and he wanted to do nothing more but go to sleep but he just couldn’t. Brian groaned and rubbed his face. He pushed his cup away and slumped forward, resting his head on his arms.

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and a sharp pain in his neck caused him to groan loudly. He blinked against the daylight flooding the room, realizing he had fallen asleep at the table.

“Did you fall asleeps here?”

John was standing over him, looking slightly concerned but mostly confused. Brian let out a pained groan and got up to stretch himself, his whole body feeling stiff and sore.

“Yeah, looks like it. What time is it?”

“Just past seven. Do you want some coffee? Maybe breakfast?”

Brian nodded slowly, wincing at his sore neck. John shot him a look but slipped past him into the kitchen, turned off the light he had forgotten and started making some coffee, rummaging through the fridge and cabinet to find out what they had on food.

“Why were you sleeping here anyway?”

John looked back at him over his shoulder as he cracked a couple of eggs into a pan. He was still in pajamas- probably hadn’t expected anyone else in the kitchen at this time- and his hair was messy. Brian’s eyes lingered just a moment too long on his ass to be considered appropriate but thankfully, the bassist didn’t seem to notice.

“Couldn’t sleep in my bed. It’s bloody creaky and I can’t even breathe without it being fucking noisy.”

John’s legs have always been very distracting to Brian and nothing seemed to help with that. No matter what he was wearing, his legs and ass looked amazing in it. The pajama pants were no different. They weren’t tight as his usual pants but Brian didn’t have to see his legs to know how great they looked and they were comfy looking and it made him want to just get up and hug him from behind and kiss his cheek.

His little crush that had started when John joined the band had grown wildly out of hand.

“Oh, that sounds awful.”

Brian hummed quietly and sat back down, resting his head on his fist. John turned on the radio, humming softly to the song that was playing, his head bopping along to the beat. Brian sighed, letting his eyes fall shut and just enjoyed the moment. He was still awfully tired and now he had a muscle ache but he didn’t have to do anything just yet and could stay relaxed for a little while longer.

John put a plate full of scrambled eggs in front of him along with a cup of coffee.

“Thanks, Deaky.”

They ate in silence, both not feeling the need to fill the room with pointless chatter. It was one of the things that had made him fall for John in the first place. Getting comfortable around John had been so easy for Brian and he had barely noticed how he started developing feelings for the younger man. It had come as a surprise to even himself. Looking back, it made much more sense but his first reaction had been confusion.

The other inhabitants of the farm started waking up just as they finished their breakfast. Brian insisted on doing the dishes because John had made the food and he did protest but Brian wouldn’t let him, only relenting when he offered to do the drying.

“Good morning, darlings! Are you ready to make an album?”

Freddie came in the room, already fully dressed and ready to start out with his day. He took the leftover coffee for himself, leaving it to Roger who also made it into the kitchen to make a new pot much to the blond’s charging.

“Morning.” He greeted them. “Who drank all the bloody coffee?”

He got a jumbled mess of answers back, varying from ‘Good Mornings’ to ‘You should have gotten up earlier if you wanted coffee’ and Roger flipped them off good-naturedly, setting up a fresh pot.

+++

Brian crashed in the afternoon. Breakfast and recording had kept him going until lunch and then lunch helped him getting his energy up for a couple of more hours but after another recording session, he had enough. He was tired and could feel a headache coming.

He was slumped in the armchair, leaning his head against the backrest and squeezed his eyes shut because the light was starting to bothering him.

Freddie and Roger where talking about a part of Freddie’s song but Brian had stopped listening a while ago. John had gotten his hand on Brian’s notes to the bass part of his song and was working on how to make it better.

It was quite loud in the room which didn’t make it better and Brian really wanted to sleep.

“Are you doing okay?”

John’s voice brought him back and he slowly opened his eyes to see him leaning towards him, a frown on his face. He shook his head meekly.

“Go and take a nap, then. I think we’ll be fine without you, today.”

Brian hesitated for a moment, not wanting to just bail on them but his head was pounding and he desperately wanted to get a little bit of rest. He got up, squeezing John’s shoulder in passing and excused himself to Freddie and Roger and left the studio.

It was a lot colder outside and he hurried back to the farm house. His bed wasn’t an option for obvious reasons and so he went to the sofa in the living room, grabbing a quilt. He was too tall for it, though, so he had to curl up tightly, punching a pillow in shape and closed his eyes.

Despite being tired, sleep didn’t want to come and Brian resigned himself to suffering for the length of their stay. Maybe they could find a new place to sleep for him or maybe there was an air mattress around somewhere he could use. He would probably don’t fit it either but it would be more comfortable than the sofa, at least.

He didn’t manage to sleep but he managed to doze until the other three took a break from recording, too. When he sat up, he felt not rested at all despite lying on the sofa for at least a couple of hours.

“Are you feeling better, Bri? John told us you were feeling a bit off.”

Brian smiled reassuringly at Freddie but knew this wouldn’t stop his friend from fretting about it and so he let him feel his temperature with the back of his hand. He even leaned down to make it easier for him to reach his forehead.

“I’m fine, Fred. Did you get anywhere with your song?”

Fred frowned slightly but left it at that and started to talk about his latest idea while John and Roger made dinner. It was more John making dinner and Roger attempting to help him but not doing a really good job but they managed to get a decent meal on the table that also tasted good.

Too bad Brian wasn’t really hungry. He ate what he could stomach which wasn’t a lot- maybe half a plate- before he pushed his plate towards Roger who had no such issues and eagerly pulled it towards him.

“I think we did a lot today and should call it a day. Brian can rest then and is hopefully better tomorrow and we can maybe try and get a couple of things done.”

Brian dreaded going back into his room to sleep but he had to because the sofa wasn’t good for his back at all. He stared down his bed as if it had personally wronged him- which it kind of did, honestly- and just decided to not giving a shit and pulled his blankets and pillow to the ground. He rather slept on the ground than enduring the awful creaking again.

There was a quiet knock on his door before he could lay down and John stuck his head into the room.

“Hey, Brian, do you-” He stared down at the blankets on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“Uh… Going to sleep?”

John opened the door fully, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Brian cleared his throat awkwardly. He had no idea why he felt so embarrassed about it but he had hoped no one would come to his room and witness this.

“Is it that bad?” John asked and Brian just nodded towards the bed.

He walked over and pressed a hand down onto the mattress. Immediately, the bed made a loud creaking sound and John burst into a sudden laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s awful.” He said. “I actually came here to offer you some painkillers but, uh, what do you think about sharing my bed?”

Brian blinked a couple of times, not having expected that at all.

“You don’t have to!” John immediately went on, raising his hands. “It’s just an offer- you look like you need a good night’s sleep.”

“Are you telling me I look like shit?” Brian chuckled.

John smiled, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Kind of, yeah.”

+++

John’s room was basically all bed. There just wasn’t anything else that fit into the room but it thankfully didn’t creak at all and he let himself fall onto it with a groan. It was heaven.

“Scoot over.”

John patted his shoulder, pushing slightly and Brian rolled over, creating enough space for him to get onto the bed, too and pull the duvet over both of them.

It had been a while since he had shared a bed with anyone but he was warm and comfortable and it didn’t matter that he was crushing on John, Brian only wanted to sleep. The bed wasn’t overly big and so they ended up lying pretty close to each other and Brian could feel John’s arm brush up against him whenever he moved. He could hear him breathe, too, which should probably be more unnerving than it actually was.

Brian sighed tiredly, sinking deeper into the pillow.

“Do you think you can sleep now?” John asked, voice low.

John was way too perceptive for his own good, sometimes, Brian thought. It wasn’t a surprise to him, John had told him once that he liked observing people more than talking to them and they did spend a lot of time together so of course he could read him easily.

“No.”

There was a long moment of silence, then John sighed and Brian could hear him shift, the sheets rustling as he did so.

“Turn on your stomach.” John ordered, elbowing him in the side. “C’mon.”

“What? Why?”

John didn’t answer, just pushed him again gently and Brian rolled his eyes but turned around, settling down on his stomach and turned his face to be able to look at his bandmate. It was too dark in the room to make out details but he could see him throwing off the blanket and scooting closer until he was kneeling next to him.

“You need to really relax at some point, Bri.”

Before he could ask what he meant with that, John straddled him and Brian let out a surprised noise at the weight on his lower back. He wasn’t resting fully on him but it was enough to notice he was there. A blush rose on Brian’s cheeks and he carefully shifted so he could look back at John over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to give you a massage. Lay back down.”

Brian opened his mouth to protest but John clicked his tongue and just pushed him back into the mattress, ignoring his cut-off yelp. Quickly, he pushed his shirt up as far as he could without making him set up again and Brian- realizing he wouldn’t get a chance to decline this massage- reached back to pull it over his head.

John’s hands were warm and firm on his back, carefully applying pressure but soon, he grew more confident, digging his finger into his skin, making Brian groan. His muscles were sore and at first it kind of hurt but it quickly turned into pure bliss and Brian relaxed into the mattress, basically melting into it. His eyes fell shut again. After a while, John seemed to slip down further and put more of his weight on him until he was basically sitting on his ass.

He found a particular tense spot in his shoulders and Brian moaned. John’s clever fingers didn’t do nothing for him and he could feel his dick stirring in his pajama pants. Biting his lip, he tried not to let out any more sounds that could alarm John of his situation and squeezed his eyes close. He felt relaxed but high-strung at the same time, the heat creeping up his spine leaving him desperate but loose and he hid his face in the crook of his arm.

One of John’s hands brushed down his spine before pressing against the small of his back. Brian almost choked on the surprised moan the action drew out him and rutted up against the mattress, the friction feeling wonderful against his aching dick. John hummed thoughtfully and Brian froze, begging he hadn’t noticed his little slip-up. But no so luck.

“Getting a little bit excited?”

He had leaned forward, his lips almost touching the shell of his ear and his voice was low which sent shivers down Brian’s spine.

“Deaky-”

“Sh, I know, don’t worry. You’re not very subtle.”

Brian whined, his face feeling as if it was burning. John’s hands traveled up his back again, the touch feather light and he shuddered beneath him. He grabbed the pillow harder and let out a shaky breath. His head was spinning. John knew about his crush and hadn’t said anything? For how long? Had he just played along with everything, pretending to be oblivious? A soft kiss just behind his ear had him snapping back into the moment and he gasped quietly.

“Stay still for me, yeah?”

Brian looked over his shoulder to meet John’s eyes. He could make out his soft smile just barely. John’s eyes darted down to hils lips for a split second before he leaned in and kissed him. It was short but sweet and they were both smiling against the other’s mouth. Then, John mouthed his way down over his spine, gently nipping at the skin, until he reached the waistband of his pants. He had to shift lower for that and was now straddling Brian’s thighs. Experimentally, he hooked his fingers under the waistband.

“Can I?”

Brian nodded hastily and lifted his hips but John clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“Brian, can I?” He repeated.

“Yes, please.”

Then John actually started pulling his pants down, threw them to the side and let his hands wander over his legs. Brian yelped and jumped when he pinched his thigh, only for John to playfully smack his ass and remind him to keep still. Brian let out a surprisingly loud moan at that and both stilled.

“Did you like that?” John asked.

When Brian didn’t answer immediately, he gently coaxed him into turning around so he was lying on his back. Somehow, it made the situation less embarrassing but also made him feel more exposed because now there was no was to hide his erection or his face and John could see exactly what effect he had on him.

“Brian? Did you like that?”

“Ye- Yeah, I liked it.” Brian whispered and John broke into a smile.

He cupped his face with one hand to kiss him and Brian returned it eagerly, opening his mouth when he felt John’s tongue against his lips. The kiss grew heated quickly and Brian impatiently pulled on his shirt, breaking the kiss to quickly get rid of it. John’s skin was warm beneath his hands and he gently scratched over his stomach and grinned when John shuddered slightly.

“Can I fuck you?”

Brian moaned, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah, please.”

“Is it okay if I spank you again?”

He had to be deep red by now and he felt hot all over, his dick aching and the longer John took to touch him, the more desperate he felt. John shifted slightly and something hard brushed against his thigh. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one affected by the whole thing.

“Yes, that’s okay.”

Brian was flipped around again and John crawled across the bed to dig something out of the small nightstand and then a wet, cold finger pressed against his entrance. He twitched at the unfamiliar feeling but John kissed the back of his neck and warmed up the lube before trying again.

One finger went in easily but John still went slow, distracting Brian by jerking him off, his clever fingers having him moaning and rocking into his fist. He twitched every time he pressed his thumb against his head, unable to close his mouth, a steady stream of curses and moans escaping him. John added a second finger and Brian arched back against him. He brushed Brian’s hair out of his way to suck a mark into his neck. The wet noises filling the room were positively obscene and it made Brian feel needy and desperate. He barely noticed John slipping the third finger in.

“John, Deaky, please get on with it!”

Thankfully, John did get on with it, carefully removing his fingers to lube up his cock before he grabbed Brian’s hips and positioned himself properly. He sank into him slowly and Brian groaned and pushed back against him. Once he had bottomed out, John leaned forward and rested his forehead against his shoulder, breathing heavily. Brian reached back and John understood what he wanted and took his hand and tangled their fingers together.

After a moment of getting used to the stretch, Brian urged John to move. But instead of getting him to fuck him, John gave him an experimental slap to his ass. Brian let out a yelp that melted into a moan and jolted, only kept in place by John’s grip on his hips. John let out a shaky breath and hit him again, getting the same reaction.

“Fuck, Bri.” he whispered and then finally started moving.

He set a fast and deep rhythm, not bothering to draw this out any further as both of them were getting quite desperate for relief. Brian almost let out a scream- just barely managing to stifle it by burying his face in his pillow- when John hit his prostate and spanked him at the same time. There were tears in his eyes and he was panting and just generally feeling incredible. One of his hands slipped down and jerked himself off, frantically rocking back and forth.

“Brian, fuck-” Another slap and Brian cursed. “You have no idea how much I wanted to do that.” The next thrust hit his prostate again, followed by another slap. “You’re always staring. Thinking you won’t be caught.” His fingers digged into his hip. “And I just want to ruin you.”

Brian was babbling incoherently, his hand speeding up around his cock. His one arm wasn’t enough to keep him upright and he let himself fall into the mattress while John kept saying incredible filthy things that made his head spin.

“C’mon.” John murmured. “C’mon, Bri, let go. It’s gonna feel so good.”

It didn’t take long for Brian to come, squeezing his eyes shut as he arched against him, spilling all over his hand. He collapsed into the mattress and John stilled inside of him. He rubbed circles into his hip and pressed kisses against his shoulders and back, praising him softly while Brian was catching his breath.

“There we go, all relaxed now, aren’t you?”

Brian hummed in agreement, then looked over his shoulder at John. He looked beautiful with his long hair being sweat-damp and clinging to his face, his chest heaving from exertion. Brian’s cock made a valiant effort to get interested again but only twitched weakly against his thigh.

“You can move.” He mumbled and reached back to pat John’s hip. “Come on, John, please.”

John chuckled and leaned up to kiss him again, all soft and gentle and then started thrusting again, much slower this time. Brian moaned, sloppily pushing his hips back, eager to make him come.

He didn’t last very long, his face buried in Brian’s neck, letting out bitten off moans until his hips started stuttering, his pace faltering and he came with a growl. After a moment to catch his breath, John pulled out and collapsed next to him.

Brian’s ass hurt but in a good way and it was probably all red but he didn’t care and instead turned towards John and pulled him closer, snuggling up against him. John lifted his chin to kiss him. Their lips moved lazily against each other, both of them satisfied and content.

“Do you think you can sleep now?” John asked, a teasing smile tugging on his lips.

He swatted at him, rolling his eyes.

“I think so, yes.”

“Good, sleep tight.”

John pressed a kiss into his hair and Brian sighed happily and closed his eyes.

“Sleep tight, Deaks.”

Brian couldn’t remember anything afterwards, drifting off into sleep immediately.

#breaky #BreakyWeek2k19 #smut

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kindnessisfree-world-blog · 4 years

Text

Partners Chapter 4

Amanda woke up feeling refreshed and excited for a couple days off. It was Saturday and the week had ended on a good note. It didn’t take long to get Jones to flip on Davis and to their relief he did it without Carisi having to offer a deal. The trial hasn’t started yet but she felt good about the evidence Carisi has going to trail.

She slowly makes her way into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee enjoying the calming silence of the morning before the girls get up. She’s startled at the knock at the door and looks down at her appearance… still just in an oversized t-shirt she wonders if she has time to grab a robe. As another knock comes she decides to just open it before whoever it is wakes the girls. After looking through the peephole she just shakes her head and opens the door.

“A little early for the park Carisi” she teases stepping aside so he can enter the apartment.

“I know, I know but I couldn’t sleep” he tells her walking in with two coffees in his hand. She notices him staring at her and raises an eyebrow at him.

“um…” he starts then clears his throat “here I got this for you” he tells her as a blush creeps up his neck. She just smiles and takes the coffee. She would be lying if she said she didn’t like him noticing.

“Thank you…just give me a minute” she tells him as she sits the coffee down and heads to her bedroom to throw on a pair of shorts.

Sonny takes his coffee and walks over to “his” chair to sit down. He knows its not really his but he has never seen her sit in it and he always seems to end up there. Plus Jesse called it his once so in his mind that makes it official.

As she walks down the hallway she sees him in his chair fiddling with his coffee lid. She can’t help but smile at how comfortable he seems in her home. She’s not sure when everything became so easy with them but she finds peace in it.

“So why are you up so early” she asks as she grabs her coffee and sits down on the sofa.

He sighs “basically going over evidence in my head” he tells her with a shrug.

She nods and takes a sip of her coffee. “well today is a no work day remember” she smirks.

He laughs and stretches his legs out. She tilts her head looking at him, she likes seeing him out of his normal suit. He looks younger with less gel in his hair and dressed in a pair of dark jeans and t-shirt. She likes it.

“I know, that’s why I just came over. Get my mind off of it all” he responds.

They both look up as they hear Jesse walk into the room “Uncle Sonny!” She exclaims walking straight over to him. He sits his coffee down and picks her up to hug her.

“Good morning Jesse” he says

“Excuse me…lets not forget about your momma” Amanda laughs

Jesse smiles and slides off of Sonny’s lap. She runs over to her mom with her arms open wide “Good morning momma” she tells her with a little dramatic flare.

“Good morning baby girl” Amanda tells her as she scoops her up in a hug and kisses her.

“Are we going to the park” Jesse asks looking between the two adults.

“Yes, here in a little bit. We need to eat some breakfast and I need a shower” she tells her as a frown takes over her face.

Sonny laughs “how bout this…Jesse and me will make some breakfast while you shower” he tells them looking at Jesse to see if this will satisfy her. She nods in excitement.

“Sounds good to me” Amanda tells them as she reaches for her coffee and takes another sip.

“mom” Jesse whines

“Ok, ok I’m going” she laughs as she sits Jesse down and walks towards her room.

It wasn’t five minutes after Amanda had jumped into the shower that he hears Billie crying. Sonny looks at his frying pan then Jesse beating the eggs in the bowl he just gave her.

“Keep working on those I’m gonna grab your sister” he instructs her.

“Ok” she agrees.

After grabbing Billie and changing her diaper he walks into the kitchen to see Jesse adding pepper to her mix. He shakes his head hoping there isn’t much else she has decided to add while he was out of the room.

“Hey Billie look at your big sis making us breakfast” he says as he places her into the high chair.

“When your big you can help too” Jesse tells her causing Sonny to smile before grabbing Jesse’s bowl and walking over to the stove.

Amanda walks into the kitchen causing Billie to squeal at her sight.

“Hi baby, did you decide to wake up” she asks walking over and giving her a kiss.

Sonny finishes cooking and they all sit down to eat. Amanda tries not to laugh at how quickly Jesse seems to be downing her eggs.

“Someone is excited for the park” Sonny comments and Amanda just laughs.

“Higher, push me higher” Jesse yells as Sonny pushes her in the swing.

“Any higher and you’ll be flying with the birds” he teases

“That’s high enough” Amanda tells her as she pushes Billie gently in the baby swing.

Jessie groans at her mother’s warning. Sonny just laughs “like mother, like daughter” he jokes.

Amanda just gives him a unamused look. Billie starts to whine and Amanda stops her from swinging. She picks her up and walks towards the stroller “I’m going to take her to the bathroom to change her” she tells them. Sonny just nods and continues pushing Jesse.

“Ok, I want to go down the slide now” she tells him causing him to slow the swing down.

“ alright, but be careful climbing up there” he tells her.

“I know” she says rolling her eyes.

“Yeah definitely a mini Rollins” he laughs to himself.

Sonny watches her carefully climb to the first platform then the second. He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket at pulls it out. He sighs reading the text.

“Everything ok” Amanda asks as she walks up pushing the stroller.

“Yeah, just work” he tells her before sliding it back in his pocket.

“texting you on a Saturday” she asks

“I know, its just Ms. Hadid wants everything ready to go Monday morning now” he tells her as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Mommy watch me” Jesse yells from the top of the slide.

Amanda and Sonny turn their attention to a very excited Jesse waving her arms. Amanda waves giving her a green light to go down the slide. Sonny makes his way towards the end the bottom of the slide and catches her.

“You were so fast” Sonny says causing her grin to widen.

“I wanna go again” she says. Sonny sits her down letting her run back to the ladder.

He feels his phone vibrate again this time he sees its an incoming call. He looks over to Amanda who gives him a questioning look. She is now next to him and can see the screen.

“Lindsay’s calling” Amanda states and he tilts his head towards her “Manda…” he starts.

“You should get it, might be important” she tells him.

Apart of her is disappointed when he does, walking away to talk to her. She keeps reminding herself it’s not fair to be upset. It’s his job now, but apart of her knows that’s not all she is upset about. Jesse yells for her attention again and she gives her a smile encouraging her to go. She notices Jesse does a quick search when she gets to the bottom, undoubtedly looking for her Uncle Sonny.

“Momma, I’m hungry” Jesse says as she walks up and starts playing with Billie in the stroller.

“Ok, we’ll get some lunch” she tells her as she looks around until she spots him making his way back over to them.

“Pizza! Can we get pizza” she asks looking at her mom then to Sonny.

“Umm…” Sonny looks to Amanda with a guilty expression.

“I think Uncle Sonny has to go back to work, but we can still go” she tells Jesse trying to make it still sound appealing.

Jesse’s brows furrow and she looks towards Sonny “but today was park day” she says to Sonny making him look even more guilty. Amanda sighs and bends down to her level.

“and we had a park day but now he needs to go to work…how about after pizza we go home and you can pick out a movie for us to watch” she tries to bargain.

Jesse nods with excitement. Sonny looks at Amanda as she stands back up.

“I wouldn’t go if didn’t really have to” he tells her. Amanda just shrugs trying to play it off like she’s not concerned about it.

“It’s fine, tell Lindsay we say hi” she tries to sound sincere.

He sighs “its a group of us meeting to go over everything” he explains. She looks at him and they both just stare at each other.

“Tell them all hi then” she teases trying to lighten the mood.

He smirks then leans down to Jesse “I’ll see you later though, ok?” He tells her as he playfully tickles her.

“Yeah ok” she sighs. He stands and shakes his head “so dramatic” he laughs looking over at Amanda who gives him a smirk.

“Manda” he starts

“Better get to work counselor” she interrupts him.

He nods then gives them a quick wave before walking away.

#rollisi #Amanda Rollins #sonny carisi #law and order svu #fanfic

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rmg91 · 4 years

Text

The Woes and Antics of Living Together-22

Second to last chapter folks! Can you believe it?! We're basically in gratuitous fluff territory now and that makes me so happy. I love fluff XD This chapter is a little bit different from the rest though as I've tried to write it as if you were watching parts of Poppy's blogs. So please excuse any awkward endings, it's harder than you think to write like that.

These don't really follow too much of a timeline other than they're all between a few weeks post!Broppy get together and about a year or so afterwards.

Hope you enjoy!

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3/FF.net

@writerofberk-Fluff, fluff, fluffy fluff!

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Cooking with Branch~”

“Hey there, My cupcakes!” Poppy said excitedly to the camera, grinning widely as Branch stood a little awkwardly next to her. They were in their kitchen with a collection of ingredients on the counter in front of them. “I hope you're all ready for this weeks video cause it's one you've all been requesting! Cooking with Branch!” She gestured wildly at him, with wide arms and jazz hands.

“Why did I agree to do this again?” Branch asked, arms crossed as he watched Poppy with a flat look.

“Mmm...” Poppy hummed, finger held to her chin before she grinned at him, “Because you love me~”

Branch blushed bright red and sputtered a little before coughing, “Right...” He sighed, cheeks still pink as he scrubbed at his hair, “So how are we doing this?”

“Just tell them what we're making and how to do it!”

The dark blue haired man looked a little unsure at her before sighing and turning to address the camera, “Right, so...Poppy's requested we make spaghetti sauce and..um...yeah?” He turned back to Poppy to hiss, “This is stupid, what am I actually doing?”

“You're doing fine, Branch.” Poppy said to him, placing her hand on top of his, “Just act like you're teaching me. Explain what you're doing as you do it.” The pinkette flashed a grin at the screen, “Branch's sauce is the best! And great for more than just pasta! It's really good in lasagna and with a few tweaks makes a great pizza sauce too!”

“Right.” Branch took in a breath and breathed out, “So, to start we take onion and start chopping it before sweating in the pan...”

As he began to demonstrate, Branch seemed to forget he was being filmed and went on to confidently explain the process. Poppy jumped in at times, either to pass a ingredient or spice, talking more with the audience about up coming parties and functions. She and Branch even bantered back and forth while Branch stirred the concoction Poppy gushed about smelling amazing. She carefully held the camera up to show the simmering sauce in the pot as Branch explained that it needed to simmer for about an hour or so before it was ready to be eaten.

“And there you have it!” Poppy said brightly as Branch began cleaning up, “Branch's super special pasta sauce!” He could be seen blushing in the background as she praised him, “The recipe will be down below and be sure to comment if you make it! We'd love to hear how you guys like it!” The pinkette wrapped an arm around his to stop him as she made him look at the camera, “Be sure to subscribe if you're new and let us know if you want more cooking segments! I'm sure I can convince Branch to do them~” She winked saucily causing another round of blush to come Branch's face. She giggled gleefully, “See you next time and stay sweet~!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Mini Golfing-So much fun!”

“And we're back, everyone,” Guy Diamond said into the camera, voice taking on a hushed announcer quality, “For the thrilling conclusion of today's epic mini golf battle. Oh the drama! The intrigue!” He flipped the camera to show Branch and Poppy facing one another, competitive looks on their faces as the stood in front of the last hole. “Our contestants are tied at forty-one hits each. Will Poppy 'Play From Your Heart' Meadows come out victorious? Or will Branch 'The Strictler' Hawthorn beat our favorite champion once again? Let's find out.”

Branch broke his stare off with Poppy to glare at Guy, “Who are you calling a strickler?!”

“Ah-ah-ah, Branch!” Poppy said, wagging a finger in front of his face, “Don't go getting distracted. We're about to end this and I'm about to get my championship back!”

Branch snorted and crossed his arms, leaving a smug look toward Poppy, “So sure about that are you? Pretty sure, I beat you fairly soundly last time.”

Poppy stood with her hands on her hips, “Oh, don't be getting so smug, Mister. That was a one time thing and since I'm so sure I'm going to win...What do you say to a little bet?”

The Snack Pack could all be heard going 'Oooooh' in the background and Guy muttered, “Looks like things just got intresting.”

Branch rolled his eyes before smirking, “Fine. What did you have mind?”

Poppy flashed a confident smile up at her boyfriend, “If I win-you come clubbing with us tonight and you have to dance with me. No sitting at table. If you win...” She suddenly leaned up and whispered something in his ear that had a blush bloom against his cheeks and neck before standing back down with a saucy smirk, “Do we have a deal?”

Branch struggled for a moment before he managed to croak out, “Deal!”

“Ooh-ho-ho~! Seems like something naughty was just put on the table.” Guy chuckled before resuming his 'Announcer Voice', “And now, Miss Meadows is lining up her shot.”

Poppy took her time to judge the distance she would need to hit the ball before giving her hips a little wiggle, shimming her shoulders and blowing out a trumpet like sound before she whacked the ball down the course. The ball bounced too and fro, hitting an obstacle or two before rolling to a stop right on the edge of the hole. The Snack Pack all groaned alongside Poppy before Branch took his turn. He took a calmer approach than Poppy, taking a second to glare at Smidge who had coughed before he hit it. It bounced around like Poppy's, rolling hard over a hill before coming to a gentle stop beside Poppy's ball and nudging the pink sphere into the hole. The group of friends cheered and Poppy began a victory dance.

“Oh yeah! I win!” She danced around Branch happily, “Thank for the hole-in-one, Honey~” She then pulled her frowning boyfriend down for a quick kiss. She laughed joyously, before waving her hands up in the air, “Clubbing's gonna be so fun tonight!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

FabulousDiamond posted a new video-

“Well!” Guy said into his phone's camera, voice loud to be heard over the pumping music in the club. Bodies of people could be seen in the background as he easily moved between them, “We now know what happens when Branch gets a couple of drinks in him!”

He laughed as he turned the phone to capture the dancing duo in the center of a ring of people. Branch and Poppy, twirling around in a rather impressive display of spins and dips, singing along to 'DJ got us Falling in Love.' Branch didn't seem to care he was being watched as spun Poppy away from him only to bring her back against his chest before dipping her low. Poppy could be seen laughing, said laughter getting drowned out by cheers and music, before she wrapped her arms around Branch's neck and pulled him in for a kiss. More cheers sounded, Guy hooting himself before ending the video.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Benefit Concert!!”

“Okay...I think I got it...” A female voice said before the camera focused on a young woman with medium blue hair, some strands still covered in paint. She was standing the middle of an excited crowd, people starting to get hyped for something exciting, “Hey, everyone! Harper here! I'm sure Poppy's already told you all what this is all about so I won't bore you with details. Anyway, I guess I'm guest host for tonight! Oh!” Harper looked off camera before flashing a grin, “Looks like everything's about to get started!”

The camera turned and faced a large stage, colorful streamers and balloons hanging from it. The crowd started cheering and applauding Gristle who was walking out with a microphone. He grinned and waved before gesturing for the crowd to calm down. “Hey there, everyone!! Thanks for coming!” More applause answered him and he had to wait for it to die down before continuing, “You all know why we're here, to help raise funds for a new animal shelter! And I'm please to announce that it looks like we're gonna meet our goal!” Even more cheers sounded, the camera bobbing up and down as Harper bounced and cried happily. “So! Without further ado! Let's give up for your entertainment for tonight!”

The crowd went absolutely wild as Gristle left the stage and the music began to play. Poppy came prancing out, wearing a cute teal blue, sequined dress and a flower headband, “I've got this feeling in my bones~! It's goes electric wavy when I turn it on!”

Branch came strutting out from the opposite side of Poppy, dressed up in shiny black pants, a white shirt and a sequined green vest, “And if you want it, inside your soul.”

“Just open up your heart, let music take control~!” They sang together as they reached center stage. “I got that sunshine in my pocket, got that good soul in my feet! I feel that hot blood in my body, when it drops-” They dropped their shoulders as they slid past each other, “Oooh~! I can't take my eyes off it, movin' so phenomenally! Room on lock, the way we rock it, so don't stop!”

Suddenly the lights illuminated the rest of the Snack Pack behind them, all dressed up in equally glittery outfits as they all sang while Branch and Poppy began dancing with each other, grabbing each other's hands and swinging across the stage, “And under the lights when everything goes... Nowhere to hide when I'm gettin' you close..” Branch made sure to tug Poppy a little closer before spinning her around, “When we move, well, you already know... So just imagine, just imagine, just imagine...!”

Branch spun Poppy away, where she struck a pose before dancing back over to him, “Nothin' I can see but you dance, dance, dance!” He twirled her around some more, never breaking eye contact before she pull away to perform of few of her own moves, “Feel a good, good creepin' up you, so just dance, dance, dance! All those things I shouldn't do but you dance, dance, dance.” Branch slid around Poppy to grab her around her waist before twisting her around and dancing across the stage with her in his arms, “Ain't nobody leavin' soon, so keep dancin'! I can't stop the feelin'! So just dance, dance, dance~” Poppy twisted her hips from side to side before spinning away from Branch, “I can't stop the feelin'! So just dance, dance, dance!”

They continued to dance across the stage, the Snack Pack joining in for more complicated moves, voices harmonizing as the crowd cheered wildly. The camera was jostled slightly but Harper kept it as steady as she could while also enjoying the musical number, crying out Biggie's name happily. The group ended it with a few more complicated looking moves before Branch scooped Poppy up in his arms for a final spin, holding her easily when they stopped and she flung out an arm in a finishing pose. Everyone screamed and cheered loudly for the performers, who happily took bows before the next song began to play.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Camping Weekend”

The camera focused on a smiling Poppy, hair down and sort of messy, with a blanket being worn over her shoulders. It could be seen she was sitting in a bright green tent on what could only be described as a nest of blankets with the pitter-pattering of rain echoing around her. A bit of blue hair could be seen sticking out from the breathing pile of blankets beside her. She giggled softly as she adjusted and glanced around her surroundings.

“So, it started raining,” She said with another giggle, “But hey, at least Branch and I are all snug and warm in our tent. And I know all our supplies is safely protected too, so we don't have to worry about that. Having a paranoid, 'everything's gonna go wrong' boyfriend comes in handy, I guess!”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” Branch's voice floated up flatly from his cocoon.

“Aww, you know I don't mean that.” She snickered lightly, hand reaching over to card her fingers through his hair, “But really,” She now addressed the camera again, “Having Mister 'Man with a Plan' here is great. And as you can see, he's made us a nice cozy nest of pretty much all the blankets from home! You'd think camping would have more sleeping bags!”

“Well excuse me for saving us the uncomfortableness that is sleeping on the cold hard ground.” Branch grumbled.

Poppy laughed and gently pushed his shoulder, “I'm not complaining and you know it!” She giggled some more, “Anyway... Hopefully the rain stops soon so we can go on that hike I mentioned earlier. I was so looking forward to it! And showing you all the pretty scenery!” She pouted slightly as Branch mumbled something about 'stupid weather apps' before she sighed, “But I guess if we can't, we can't...We've still had so much fun already! Isn't that right, Branch?”

Branch hummed his agreement before unwrapping an arm and throwing it around Poppy's waist, “And if we do have to go home early, we can come back and do this again.”

“Yup!” Poppy agreed brightly, “So I guess I'll see you all either on the trail or on the car ride home! Till later!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Karaoke Night~!”

The Karaoke bar featured was lit intimately, lights low with the lit candles on the tables giving everything a warm glow. Milton was currently on stage, crooning a love ballad to Smidge who sat close to the stage with a blush staining her cheeks. The rest of the patrons all watched, some smiling at the display, some boredly, other's, like Bridget and Gristle, swaying in their seats to the music. Poppy's signature giggle could be heard coming softly from behind the camera before she started half whispering to someone.

“Come on, you promised.” She said, a slightly whine in her otherwise playful tone.

Branch's groan was then heard, “Poppy...”

“Pleeease? You do it so well at home~ And it's not like this is your first time singing in front of us.”

A long suffering sigh was then heard, “Fine, fine. I'll do it.” There was a brief moment of silence between then before Poppy could be heard giggling again and Branch could be heard saying, “Why do I let you talk me into these things?”

“Because you love me~”

“Hmm...I guess I do.”

The people then began clapping as Milton finished, Poppy joining in happily before shooing Branch up on stage. She then twisted the camera to film him going up and choosing the song he was going to sing, excited giggles escaping her, “Oh, you guys are gonna love this!”

Branch took the stage with a mild amount of applause, most coming from the Snack Pack, before shaking his head, a fond smile gracing it, as Poppy wolf whistled at him. He then nodded for the music to start playing. A slow, jazzy piano tune started to play and Branch began, his angel like voice filtering through the place.

“Mama, I don't have time for dancin'...That's just gonna have to wait a while~ Ain't got time for messin' around and it's not my style...” He swayed side to side, eyes closed, “This old town can slow you down, people takin' the easy way... But I know exactly where I'm goin', gettin' closer n' closer ever day~!”

As the music began to turn more jaunty, Branch started to move with it, shoulders bouncing, “And I'm almost there! I'm almost there. People down here think I'm crazy,” He spun a finger beside his ear, grinning toward where the Snack Pack sat, “But I don't care! Trials and tribulations, I've had my share, there ain't nothin' that's gonna stop me now, and I'm almost there!”

He tapped his foot to the beat as he removed the microphone from the stand, looking up and off to the side, “I remember Daddy told me, fairy tales can come true. You gotta make them happen, it all depends on you~” He faced and smiled at the small audience then, “So I work real hard each and every day, now things for sure are going my way. Just doin' what I do, look out girls I'm coming through~!” He flashed a wink at Poppy that had her laughing in enjoyment.

“And I'm almost there! I'm almost there. People gonna come here from everywhere! I'm almost there and I'm almost there!” Just the music played while Branch took a breath before the tone turned soft again and he stepped off stage, “There's been trials and tribulations, you know I've had my share...” He walked over just slightly off camera before pulling Poppy back towards the stage, the music picking up again, “But I've climbed a mountain and I've crossed a river and I'm almost there! I'm almost there. And I'm aaallmost-” He sudden picked up Poppy and spun her around as he sang the last note proudly, “Theeeeeeeeere!” He sat her down, grinning down at her, “I'm almost there.”

The crowd cheered as Poppy giggled in his arms before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a short kiss. More cheers and a few wolf-whistles sounded before Poppy pulled back and flounced her way up on stage, claiming she was next.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“Let's Pack! Pt 2”

Poppy was laughing as she placed DVD's and games into another box, regaling to her audience about the time where she and the Snack Pack had been having a Murder Mystery party and Guy had hypnotized Cooper, “So! Cooper thought he was the worlds greatest detective for like three days! Then he started solving things that didn't need to be solved and almost ruined a big surprise Chenille had for Satin so that's when Guy and I convinced him he need to solve the 'Case of the Missing Cooper' and-” She snorted slightly as she grinned, “He 'solved' it by becoming Cooper again!” She giggled while shaking her head, placing a few more movies in her current box before taping it up.

“So-” Before she could be began another tale, Branch suddenly cried out.

“Branch?! What happened?!” Poppy cried, already half up before Branch replied.

“I found more goddamn glitter in the carpet!!!”

“Oh...” Poppy sank back down with a snicker, trying to hide it behind her hand.

“This is no laughing matter!” Branch's voice got clearer as he came out into the living room, “How can there be glitter everywhere?! I've vacuumed five times and I keep finding it!! It is not invading our new apartment! No, sire-e! Nu-uh! You can find a different hobby!”

Poppy giggled, “You can't contain the glitter, Branch! And it's gonna invade alright, you know you can't stop me from using it.”

“I can try!” He huffed, crossing his arms.

Poppy laughed as she got up and walked over to Branch, throwing her arms around his neck as she stood on her toes, “You can, true! But if you can have your ration box, I can have my glitter. And I did promise to try and keep in my new craft room, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah...” He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing his nose against hers, “How's it going out here?”

“It's great! I was just telling everyone about the time Cooper got hypnotized into Chummy Sparklestone!”

Branch snorted as he pulled away, “Course you were.” Shaking his head, mouth quirked up as he looked at Poppy fondly before speaking up, “Comment and tell Poppy how pointless glitter is!”

“Hey!” She cried indignantly, “It is not!” She playfully swatted at him as she turned to the camera, “Don't comment that! Comment on how much Branch needs to embrace the glitter!”

“Never!” He shouted before picking her up and spinning her around the empty looking living room, most of Poppy's pictures packed away already.

Poppy squealed and laughed as Branch put her down, kissing the top of her head before she pulled away. Picking up the camera she smiled at it, “Well, guys, I think I'll leave this here for now. Updates can be seen on my other social and next time you see us, we'll be at the new place! Stay sweet~!”

~*~*~*~*~*~

And there you have it! Some short, sweet shots of Broppy goodness! I hope I managed to pull off Branch getting more confident during his time together with Poppy. He's at least gotten use to her vlogging a lot of things lol! Anyway, last chapter will be the epilogue and this will be completed. Aahhh!! I can't believe it's almost over! (Also I'd like to point out in Guy's short vid, Branch isn't really drunk, he's just had just enough to not let his social anxiety get to him too much and to just enjoy dancing with Poppy. Branch would never allow himself to get horribly drunk.)

Can��t Stop The Feeling-Dreamworks Trolls

Almost There-Disney (Caleb Hyles version pictured)

#Dreamworks Trolls #Branch #Poppy #Broppy #Fanfiction #Human AU #Modern AU #Roommate AU #dreamworkstrolls #Fluff

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