#-venom. and he huffs at her shoots her a glare n tells her that would raise more problems than its worth so that also happens

[spotsupstuff]

No wonder he is always angry...

At least he has his family.

Does Sparrow knows? Do the others iterators know? Is there another city that does the same!??!

Also "venom of the lower circles"? What is happening there?

how very angry Boreas is is a testament of how much he has had to suffer, in both the lighter funnier ways as putting up with constant knowledge of everyone's life such as roadrage to darker ways such as actual torture, and how much self respect he has to recognize that he didn't deserve this. "just because we can heal does not mean it is alright for us to get hurt."

everybody knows about it! but it feels like it's always been like this, so it's okay. this is just how it is. it is just another fact of life. (yet both Zephyr and Orion still remember the first time Boreas has dragged himself online in their chats and how closed off he was- too hurt to interact with them normally)

there isn't anyone else with this kinda thing! the bigger the city the easier the empathy gets lost. and as we all know at this point, Boreas was blessed with being the biggest of them all

with the venom- i've laughed in the tags of that one big Boreas raging pic how it's funny that someone would rather put warning sign program into him rather than find a way to help him with his anger and as i've been working on him a bit more, i decided to take this idea a little further

he gets angry, the warnings pop up. he gets more angry, past what the Houses consider alright to allow him to feel, they "cool" him down by automatic injection of the paralyzing venom directly into the puppet. it hurts like a bitch and causes a very small Hivemind unsync, damages his puppet's internal organic systems (but "that is okay. he can heal." they say.) + sort of works like a sedative. nothing too severe that would affect the parts of his consciousness that controls the city, of course, can't be inconvenient to the citizens, but it pulls on his metaphoric reins like That

this was originally implemented because back when he still used to have Mechanics looking after him (those were from the Wellspring, too), he started being a little too... daring and disrespectful for their tastes. so it's his little "controlled shock FNaF: sister location" moment

it is no fun

after his facilities were deemed stable, he no longer had any Mechanics workin on him (an Admin and a Mechanic are two different roles, even though they r very similar). then he had only one Admin that sometimes checks in on his systems without directly interacting with him. the paralyzing doses were instead used when the Houses had to arrange things with him n he didn't want to comply for whatever reason and when the school became a thing, it was a way to ensure he doesn't actually hurt any of the students

because there is an exception in his taboos when it comes to laying harm upon certain kinds of Ancients instead of covering all of them. he is allowed to kill anyone who is considered an intruder And he is allowed to harm Iterator Mechanic students (not severely though) in order to rough up the to-be Mechanics. they have to be ready to deal with the absolute worse an Iterator can offer, Just In Case. this taboo gets a little bit more broken for the Mechanics' last test, which is looking after Boreas' systems for a few days

during this last test period, all of the students are guaranteed to be in the respawn cycle now. which means Boreas can wound them fatally if they provoke him enough (since that is a big No on what to do with ur Iterator charge as a Mechanic, the severe punishment would be warranted). the first meeting between the student n Boreas is monitored by the teachers- the student comes into his chamber to introduce themselves and lay out their plan of system check ups. if a student manages to severely anger/provoke Boreas Here already, the teachers will administer the venom n just send the kid home to retake the year or leave. if they can't handle the first meeting right, they are pretty much helpless. and for this helplessness Boreas has to suffer

the venom is advertised to come from willing lower circles (or levels), but it hardly is. while it is rarely extracted by force, it is usually gotten by financial manipulation of people who are well or as an abuse of unfortunate poor citizens/lower circles. if you give us this resource, we will compensate you, give you money, take it as part of your taxes. it's dehumanizing, but out of desperation the unfortunate souls give in

they do not know what their venom is then used for. they don't ask out of fear. and while Boreas is aware of this manipulation, he blames the unfortunate ones either way. the end result it that they've allowed him to hurt with those generous donations of theirs. he's too bitter, angry and hurt to give much of a shit. all of the Ancients are the same. all of them are a part of the problem

which is why the fuckin -ruffles hair- his and Sparrows' relationship gets me so hard

in his eyes, she's just as guilty as his Houses at the beginning. but she's strange, she gets bullied a lot, she's thrown away by everyone of these high city levels. she breaks one of his overseers- such expandable unimportant things to him- and she cries over the broken eye. and the most puzzling thing... during her last test, once she enters his chambers, she bows to him as she gives him a shortened version of her name- "just Three Sparrows, i know you don't want to waste your words on me"- she still flinches when he approaches to judge her, but she suppresses any other sign of distress that would warrant a venom administration. she offers to make him a deal. she offers to listen to what he's comfortable with her working on him. she says she won't force anything on him. it just makes no sense. cautiously, he accepts. he watches her like a hawk during her work, but she never breaks the promises she's made to him

this doesn't change his opinion on the Ancients. when later Sparrows changes Zephyr's, he's salty and still angry about it. they all should pay. this is just one individual. she is an anomaly. she is dangerous. with how sick his puppet feels from those doses at the end of each semester, there is no other way for her to be

and he holds on to that opinion until he witnesses that reconciliation between her and Euros after the 1st Rot situation. she could've been mean, she could've screamed, she could've hurt him. first two of those that he has done to Euros before the euthanization, even though he's already been made aware of his fault and the situation was considered in control (he's done it out of concern, his own fear and worry for the young thing, but still-). but no. Sparrows was better than him, then (she screamed at him at first becuase she had no idea how bad it could've been- maybe he was damned already n there was nothing she could've done to save him). she was kind and warm even after being lied to- betrayed- she gently whispered explanations, she leaned against him softly and allowed it when he leaned against her back.

an Ancient was a better person than him- the same venom held at bay in her fangs coursing through his bloodstream, remnants of yesterday's dose still ringing off- and he has no other choice but to see and recognize her for it

[tonesplash]

its thanksgiving get nasty (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

summary: you get bored at thanksgiving dinner. unfortunately for edward you wore sandals

warnings: smut,brief footjob, thanksgiving dinner, edward kind of chokes on corn, reader doesn’t like their family, mild injury, fingering, innappropriate use of vampire speed, technically exhibitionism and public sex?? bad dirty talk, and cousin-shaming, reader is afab and might be described as female im not sure

a/n: i wrote this in 24 hours so any sloppiness is not my fault

masterlist

(c/n)= cousins name

When you told him thanksgiving with your family would be boring, you’d meant it’d be for him, looking forward to his reaction to being on the receiving end of your bloodlines ridiculousness while you’d get dinner and a show. But, as it turns out, your family just so happens to get along with Edward much better than they do with you.

The seating situation is a little unconventional, since because your boyfriend-snatching cousin stole the open seat next to Edward before you even made it back from the bathroom, leaving your only viable option directly opposite of him. On the bright side, you had the option of kicking his leg when he’d said something to embarrass you.

 Bless his soul, he’d done his best to bring you into the conversation but apparently, anything you had to say about your relationship had been relayed verbatim to the family group chat you weren't even in by your mother. So, after the third time you’re talked over by the aforementioned horny cousin or some other nosy relative on you’re bored out of your mind.

Everyone had gotten over your piss poor table manners years ago, or were just completely ignoring you at this point because there were no protests when they’d brought the turkey out and you’d stayed slumped low in your seat like a child in church.

Twitter had stopped refreshing ten minutes ago, and when you finally resigned yourself to tuning back into the conversation, your mother was showing Edward your baby pictures again. Idly swinging one bare foot under the table, your bare toe grazes the drape of his dress slacks under the table when you get an idea.

 You’d lost a sandal earlier after Edward had pinned it under his shoe in a vain attempt to stop your pinching and dirtying of his slacks with your filthy soles. You scoot a little further forward in your seat to reach out and press your arch flat against his shin.

Edward doesn’t visibly react, just shifts his leg away, leaving yours to slip to the floor until you reach up again to plant your heel on the seat of the chair. The conversation lulls for a moment as everyone says grace, and he uses the opportunity to grab your ankle and send you a warning glare over the top of your phone.

You meet his gaze and boorishly eat a spoon of mashed potatoes, shrugging as if he couldn’t read in your mind exactly what you were about to do. 

Your cousin asks about his mom car again and when you roll your eyes Edward flicks the outside of your fibula, sure to bruise, and you crinkle your nose, pinching his marble thigh between your toes as best you can through the material.

“Well my father thought it was necessary for my siblings and I to-” 

While he talks, he's soothing the spot he flicked, playing in the stubble leftover from your shoddy shave job this morning, and the absent affection gives you the final motivation to further push your luck. You tease the seam of his left leg with the very tips of your toes, coaxing the unnatural heat of the venom to build in the crotch of his pants, the coolness of the rest of him making it seem even hotter in comparison.

He inhales on a forkful of corn, almost taking it down the wrong pipe, and you fight a smile around the bowl of the spoon as he flawlessly recovers and finishes the thought. You idly wonder if you could be that smooth someday. For now, you press further, pressing a toe against the seam over his cock, stroking up and down as slowly and consistently as you can while stretched under a table because who would’ve thought that footjobs are kind of an athletic feat. 

Edward taps insistently at your leg, harder than he normally would, and you have to hold back a laugh at the idea of him splitting the table because he can’t take a little footsie action. You press forward again, arch encompassing his hardness through the fabric, toes curling against his pubic bone when-

“Ho-oly shit!” Searing pain shoots up from your ankle, and you double over, using everything in you not to shout, Edwards dawning mortification going unnoticed as everyone at the table turns to you at your unexpected outburst.  

“(Y/n)?” Your mother doesn’t seem that happy to have dinner interrupted, and you clutch your stomach as a quick cover.

“Uh, my bad.” You snicker nervously at the sudden attention, bravado gone. Your face feels red-hot. “I actually need to use the bathroom, I think,” you lick your lips and slide out of your chair. “Lady problems.”

The table erupts in a cacophony of gags and groans as the notion of a menstrual cycle is brought up in casual conversation, and it gives you the perfect cover to retreat to the upstairs bathroom. It takes you a minute to make it up the stairs without causing a scene, and just as soon as you close and lock the door behind you and settle down to weep in peace, he’s there, jiggling the doorknob like it’s a drug bust.

“Let me in.”

You’re apparently taking too long because as soon as your injured foot touches the floor, he forces the lock and slips in, shutting the door a little too fast to pass as human. 

“Jesus! Edward, are you trying to lose our deposit?” You lean around him to check for a handprint but he doesn’t respond, wordlessly setting you up on the counter, kneeling to examine your injured ankle, cool fingers soothing to the sore skin. You sit in silence, idly swinging your other leg to distract yourself.

“How'd you make it out?” You can't imagine they’d let the guest of honor go so easily.

“You forgot your bag, I told them I’d just bringing it up to you.” He places your bag next to you as evidence. “Maybe you should start carrying menstrual products for when you actually need them.”

Of course, he breaks your foot and wants to lecture you on responsible uterus care. Edward sighs, taking your foot with the gentlest touch and whispering a kiss into the skin. “It’s only a sprain, but I’m still sorry.” 

“S’Okay.” Your face burns, not expecting his guilt. “Serves me right, huh?” You titter, poking his side with your uninjured foot. He swipes it up before you can start again, halfheartedly laughing with you. 

“Let me wrap it before you get any more ideas.” You hand him the compression wrap from the medicine cabinet, and he gets to work. The wince you give at the pressure is more reflex than anything, but the anxious expression on his face tells you he wasn't going to let this go easily. 

“Y’know…” You poke at him again. The playful contempt in his golden eyes gives you the go-ahead to make your case. “If you’re really feeling torn up about it, seeing you wow my family like that got me a little riled up.”

“Really.” Edward kisses the secured wrapping and releases you, standing to frame you against the counter.

“I’m serious, impressing them isn’t easy, (C/n) is probably shaving in the guest room to steal you from me right now, just thinking about it has got me a little hot under the collar.” You run your hands over his back and through his hair, nuzzling into the crook of his throat.

“You’re laying it on pretty thick, don’t you think?” His hands smooth over your exposed thighs sending a shiver up your spine. You think you've got him, but he's such a tease sometimes you can never really be sure.

“Depends. Is it working?” You still, bracing for some line about ‘responsibility’ and ‘your family waiting for you.’

But then his hands are under your skirt, hooking into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, leaving them to free-fall to your feet. You clutch his auburn hair in your fingers at the shock of open-air against your cunt.

“Do you think I could let you go back to that table smelling like this?” His sweet breath washes against your ear as he huffs a soft laugh. “I’d rather not go downstairs and pretend to care about football when I know you’re here, hot and ready for me.”

You can’t resist him any longer, pulling him close and kissing him with the desperation of a woman who needs to be back downstairs before dessert. His thumb teases over your cunt at first, swirling over your swelling clit and teasing your hole before he finds a focus, using the thumb of his free hand to hold your hood back as his slicked fingers grind the bud into a frenzy while he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

It’s all you can do to hold your breath while he touches you, cool fingers building a knot in your belly, smooth and steady as they batter you up into a frenzy. He adjusts his hand, his ring finger pressing into you and bringing a low ache from rushed preparation, but you welcome it, thighs shaking with the effort to stay open for him as your mouth falls open in a shaky gasp. Edward breaks the kiss to let you breathe , seemingly unbothered until- 

“(C/n) is coming.” 

“Wha-” A particularly deep stroke has you biting your lip as you struggle to concentrate. “What the fuck does she want?”

“She’s going to ask you where I am.” His expression doesn’t match his words, still completely concentrated on ruining you despite the obvious issue.

“And what am I supposed to tell her?!” You hiss back right as she reaches the door. His mouth closes over your pulse point and you don't think you've clenched that hard before in your life.

“Hey (Y/n)? Have you seen Edward?” Her voice is enough of a mood killer that you have to shove your face into his throat to ground yourself in the moment. He adds a second finger, gaining speed, and you pray and hope to any god listening to this that she can't hear the squelches through the door.

“N-no.” You rack your mind for an excuse. His scent is making it harder to concentrate. “I think he went out for a smoke?” Nice one.

“Really? I didn't smell anything on him...” If all your blood flow hadn't been centralized below the waist at this point you'd’ve asked how the hell she knows what he smells like. He's fully abandoned your clit now, leaving it to pulse in the open air while three of his fingers push and pull at your pelvic floor.

“That's cause he unh-” You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the moan before it can be recognized for what it is.“-he vapes!” Edward pulls back from your throat to look at you incredulously, but it's a little hard to be ashamed when he's nearly wrist deep inside you.

“Oh… Well, let him know if you see him that they’re playing charades and I need a partner. You know how it is.”

You forget to reply, too enthralled watching him spit onto his unoccupied fingers and mash the coolness against your clit, causing you to nearly spasm off the counter, losing the sensation as he silently laughs at having to hold you steady. She seemed to have taken your silence as an admission, as you can hear the door at the stoop of the stairs swinging shut after her. Thank God.

“Rub your spot, Sweet, come on, we have to be quick.” He kisses your temple and laughs a bit maniacally at the little whimper that escapes when you bring a hand down to your clit. “Surprisingly, she’s having trouble picturing me in a vape shop.”

You whine around a bitten lip, too far gone to listen to his ribbing. You’re building up to overstimulation with the sloppy way you’re rubbing yourself, and he must feel it too, because in the next second, his fingers are vibrating.

“Come on, (Y/n), don't you want to finish up here and mop the floor with them?” You hadn’t even realized how hazy your vision had gotten until he grabs your chin and levels your lidded eyes with his and says your name again. You nod sluggishly for him, not hearing a word. He laughs again, smiles wide. His teeth are pretty. 

“If you cum right now;” The buzzing grows stronger, your free arm spasming under you as you support yourself. “I’ll rub you raw after on the ride home. You just need to come right now and win charades with me.” 

The buzzing inside grows too strong, and your vision goes white, pulsing in long pulls around his fingers as hot waves of sensation spread from your head to your toes.

Edward kisses you, soft and slow, swallowing any whimpers tempted to escape as you come down, abandoning the counter to clutch his sleeve as the twitching reduces to a tremor.

“Oh my god.“ You laugh, planting your face into his collar as you catch your breath. “I can't believe you used charades to make me come, I'm never gonna forgive you.” 

“I heard the top prize is a ten dollar gift card to…” He squints and checks again. “The Google Play Store.”

“Ew, what could you even do with tha-”

“(Y/N) come help with plates!” Your mother shouts up the stairwell, totally fucking up any release you just had.

“I guess I should run down to the corner store;” Edward smiles, helping you to stand on wobbly legs and smoothing your skirt down. “Don't want to blow your cover.” 

“(Y/N)! Plates!”

“Oh my god;” Your eyes may never return from the back of your skull. “Meet you downstairs?”

He kisses you sweetly one last time, pulling you close and wiping the sheen of sweat off of your face.

“Downstairs.”

With that, he heaves himself out of the narrow sill, and you busy yourself cleaning up as fast as you can.

You just catch him hopping off the roof, and coming around to the front yard. He'll hear you no matter the volume, but you still shout the warning;

“Stay away from my cousin!” 

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing xi.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 2, 396

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hi everyone !!! here we are with the weekly update hehe, and it's a brief chapter but it does direct it up to the next one, and that'll be far more ... happening ... if you catch my drift 🤣

anyways, apologies for the silence again - uni has been absolutely kicking my butt and I'm lowkey on the verge of burnout but we'll pull through !!!

hope you enjoy the chapter 🥺❤️

Jungkook sits across from Jennie when it happens.

“What the—?”

“We need to talk.” Jimin glares, hand already grabbing him by the collar when he tugs Jungkook out of his seat. He doesn’t bother to send Jennie a look of acknowledgment, though he doubts she’s at any fault. He was only there for one thing and the subject of his disdain only looks perplexed and confused.

“Can we do this later?” Jungkook huffs, gesturing between his body and Jennie’s. She’s blinking at the interaction, then picks up her purse to shoot the two boys a half-hearted smile.

“I think I know what you needed to say,” She smiles. Then she looks over to Jimin who’s still glaring down at the younger boy, “Good luck.”

Her wish only makes Jungkook gulp, but he can more or less guess what Jimin is dragging him by collar about.

When he manages to ruffle his clothes back into position and sees the angry slope of Jimin’s back, he takes a deep breath. Jimin was by no means a terrifying person on average, in fact, he was quite debatably one of the most pleasant people anyone could know.

But Jimin was loyal and he stuck by the people he cared about with all his heart. He’d fight and he’d defend them till the end of time, and you were no different. Especially since the two of you grew up with each other, Jimin seeing you grow from an inquisitive toddler to the intelligent woman you were today—Jimin would die to protect you.

So when Jimin shuffles through his backpack to hand Jungkook a pack of ice, he can only stare at the cold object in the palm of his hands.

“What is this—?”

“You’ll need it.” Jimin deadpans, then he’s rolling up his sleeves.

“I thought we were talking?” Jungkook asks with a raised brow.

“We are,” Jimin retorts, eyes unblinking when he stares the younger boy down with a heavy-lidded gaze, “After I beat your ass for fucking _____ over.”

Jungkook opens his mouth, ready to defend but Jimin’s resolute glare only makes him cower in submission. He knew he fucked up, and he knew that there was no way he could get a word in even to meekly apologise because when Jimin had his mind set on something, he wouldn’t stop until that goal was achieved.

And it seems that Jimin’s goal was to give Jungkook a physical reminder on why he shouldn’t fuck with the things or people he loved.

“Let me take off my jacket,” Jungkook mutters, defeated.

After multiple shoves against the wall and a generous swing to his cheek, Jungkook is begrudgingly holding the ice-pack against his bruising face.

Jimin doesn’t look apologetic when the two of them sit side-by-side on the sidewalk, or even when Jungkook’s lip busted open. He knew Jungkook could take it, he was twice his size. Even more so, Jungkook knew Jimin had every reason to act the way he did.

“Thanks for the ice pack, by the way,” Jungkook says sarcastically, wincing when he moves his mouth a little too much.

Jimin doesn’t gratify him with a response, instead levels a stare so menacing that it could send anyone running. But Jungkook’s done a bit too much of that recently; so he stays, braces himself for the words that were to leave Jimin’s lips.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jungkook sighs, scrunching his face before tossing the ice pack aside. He supposed that it was nearly useless, nearly melting into a puddle that drips down his arm uncomfortably.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook confesses softly.

“You’ve got a set of nerves on you if you thought it was ever okay to say the shit you did to her, let alone a human being.” Jimin frowns, pulling Jungkook but his collar so that he’d look at him.

Jimin’s face is permanently etched into a scowl, but Jungkook already knows he’s fucked up. The constant reminder of you turning to different directions whenever you’d spot him was enough to hurt more than a punch to the face.

“I know.” Jungkook whispers, fiddling with his thumbs.

“Do you, Jungkook?” Jimin spits, glaring down at the boy who remains helpless under his grasp, “I told you to not fuck with her and you deliberately went against what I said.” His reminder is vicious and quiet, a hiss in the wind that blows.

Jungkook hears it loud and clear, “I know,” He exasperates, still as frustrated with himself as he was with the entire situation, “I know.” He repeats, more defeatedly.

Jimin shoves Jungkook back by releasing his grip around the collar that he nearly stumbles. But Jungkook catches himself just barely when Jimin rises to his feet, looking down at his younger friend like he was a piece of gum stuck on the sole of his shoes.

“Why?” Jimin asks after a beat of silence.

Jungkook purses his lips. He knows why, but he still can’t bring himself to say it. Not when he knows he’s fucked up and Jimin is rightfully furious. He knows Taehyung knows at this point too, there was nothing that Jimin knew that Taehyung didn’t. It was just that Jimin was the more confrontational one where Taehyung was passively aggressive with his anger.

“I …” Jungkook trails off weakly, standing up to reach Jimin’s height but despite his friend being taller, his presence was already intimidating enough.

“You doing that shit with her was one thing, because if it was consensual I’d go on my merry way,” Jimin sneers, poking a firm finger into Jungkook’s chest, “But you had to go and poke at her insecurities to hurt her. On purpose. That’s where you fucked up. Royally.”

Jungkook blinks, intently listening and observing the way Jimin’s chest rises and falls with every breath he heaves.

“It’s taking everything in me not to smear your reputation on campus for the shit you did,” Jimin’s eyes flutters shut and his voice is threatening. Jungkook’s eyes widen, but he still remains quiet, “But against my better conscience, you’re my friend. And I’m so fucking disappointed in you.” Jimin croaks like he’s conflicted.

And for the first time ever since the conversation started, Jungkook feels bad for Jimin; specifically. He knew that it was difficult to defend your friend while berating another, and he hated himself for putting him into a difficult position. It was an internal dispute that Jimin and Taehyung would have to face between holding Jungkook accountable and leaving him to dust.

There was history, between the four of you. But there was unseen history between Jimin and Jungkook that you and Taehyung hadn’t seen, and Jungkook’s always regarded Jimin as an older brother, honorific aside.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook whispers.

Jimin looks up, glaring at the apology like he’s sworn at him.

“I can’t believe you.” He sneers, barring his teeth intimidatingly while Jungkook swallows.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook looks down at his feet, and for a moment he feels like a child being scolded but he knew that children would never say anything as vicious as he did, unless they were a product of their environments.

Jungkook still can’t justify his words, or why he said them. But a deep part of his recognises that it was his insecurities peeking through and him weaponising a weapon powerful enough to shoot himself dead.

“This isn't my apology to accept,” Jimin says sternly, “But even if it was—I could never forget what you said to her, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods, eyes still cast downwards.

“What does this …” he trails off, finally looking up to see Jimin carding a hand through his hair in exasperation and a pinched expression marring his face, “Where does this leave us?’

Jimin knows Jungkook’s asking about the state of their friendship together.

But the anger is blinding and overwhelming, so instead; he tosses his backpack over his shoulder before turning on his heel, head looking back ever so slightly to level Jungkook with a final gaze intense enough to speak for itself.

“Here,” Jimin declares, gesturing to the abandoned ice pack, the bruised cheek and knuckles, “Until you decide to get your shit together, I need time away from you. If not, I’m going to do something that ____ would hate and I don’t want to hurt her any more than you already have.”

The words are sharp, targeted and venomous. But Jungkook recognises he deserves it. He also doesn’t bother fighting back when Jimin finally leaves, leaving Jungkook to bask in his own, clouded thoughts.

“Why are your knuckles bruised?” Is the first thing you ask Jimin when you see him storming towards you and Taehyung in the library.

Taehyung is aware while you blissfully aren’t.

“None of your business,” Jimin shoots back, but then he’s tugging you out of your seat to hug you.

Your eyes widen, “Jimin?”

When he pulls away, his eyes soften.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

Taehyung nods and your head is spinning in confusion when you stare between the two boys with furrowed brows.

“Tell you what?”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung answers, eyes boring a hole into your skull.

At the mention of his name, you freeze in Jimin’s grasp as you stare at the both of them with wide eyes.

“How did you know—?”

Jimin frowns, releasing you so that you’re all able to take a seat in a specific corner of the library. You dryly note to yourself that you realise that every one of your conflicting moments of confrontation occurred in this place. Maybe it was about time for a change of scenery.

“Yena,” Taehyung tells you, and you scowl—nearly cussing her out in your mind but you know that your anger wasn’t warranted.

Especially when Jimin reaches out to grab your hand when he notices you looking down at your lap.

“How do you think it felt for us when we had to find out from someone else that you’ve been going through a hard time?” He asks softly, looking at you so gently that your lip nearly trembles.

For the longest time, Jimin and Taehyung were like older brothers that doted on you as much as they could. They took care of you and made sure that you knew your worth ever since the three of you were children. And for that, you could never be more thankful for their presence.

So you understand their hurt, and it makes you feel guiltier when you see Taehyung quietly patting your head although his eyes carry a sadness that only came from a friend withholding information from you.

“I …” You croak.

“You didn’t need to tell us why,” Taehyung reassures gently, “Just wanted to be here for you. For whatever reason, it may be.”

You stare down at your lap even harder and blink away the tears that only came with guilt.

“I’m sorry.” You say so meekly that it comes out as a squeak.

“Please don’t apologise. We just want to be here for you,” Jimin says sadly, squeezing your hand tighter even if you weren’t going to look at him. He doesn’t push you to do so.

“I didn’t want to make things complicated.” You confess softly, fiddling with the thumb on your free hand.

Taehyung scowls, “_____, you know that whatever it is, Jimin and I will try our best to remain as objective as possible but Jungkook said things to you that we're absolutely not okay and as both of your friends, we have a responsibility to hold him accountable.”

You purse your lips, nearly pouting. It’s as if Jimin reads your mind, where a million thoughts run through it, he pulls you closer so that he can properly hug you. Even if the position is a little weird and Taehyung has to bend his arm at a weird angle to be able to hug you too, you feel comforted.

“Don’t be mad at him.” You whisper softly into the material of Taehyung’s shirt.

Jimin snorts, “I release my anger in a healthy manner.”

Your eyes glance down at his knuckle suspiciously but he tugs it away when he notices your wandering eyes.

Taehyung sighs, caressing your hair softly. “We have every right to be angry with him, _____. What he did and said was unacceptable.” He informs you firmly.

You pull away slightly from their hold to furrow your eyebrows, “I know but—”

“You do know,” Jimin says softly, “And we know that you don’t like other people fighting your battles for you so we’ll step out of it. But that doesn’t mean we can’t personally be disappointed in what Jungkook did. He’s our friend too and if he did that to anyone else, we’d still be mad. We’re just extra mad because it’s you and we’re your best friends.”

You dip your head, letting out a sigh of acknowledgement.

“Just … let me talk to him.” You say, and Taehyung raises a brow at the shift in your tone, “This is something I need to do for myself. I appreciate you guys, I really do. But I don’t want things to be weird because of what we did.”

You can tell Jimin is about to argue with you, but Taehyung shoots him a look that shuts him up immediately.

“If that’s what you want.” Taehyung smiles gently at you.

Jimin clenches his jaw, clearly the more displeased one between the two. But he swallows it by clenching his fist and patting your head, shooting you a concerned stare mask in a slight glare.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

You nod, “Very.”

Jimin nibbles on his lips as if deep in thought before pulling away completely, leaning into his chair.

“If you insist,” He sighs, “But Jungkook did get what he deserved.”

You shrug, “I mean I don’t think avoiding him was the worst thing to do, but I guess you’re right.”

Jimin blinks.

Then Taehyung and he are sharing a look familiar enough for you to know only comes out when they did something wrong or were caught causing trouble.

You raise a brow, “Am I missing something?”

Jimin shoots you a reassuring smile and you miss the shift of Taehyung’s eyes to the fist that wraps around your shoulder.

“Nothing at all.”

You [21:09]: hi jungkook

You [21:24]: can we talk? my door's open if you're free.

[muffindaddystyles]

Tell me you love me, before I go.

A/N: A very short smutty writing I had in my swirling whole night, which unapologetically I ended up writing in the wee hours of dark.

Summary: Harry and Y/N are rivals -- very passive aggressive enemies. When on a mission Y/N breaks into his room he had no choice but to punish her.

AU: Rivals to lovers, dark sci-fi, angry rough sex, spanking and spitting, reassurance kink and unrequited love.

A war between two groups. Left one with nothing but a tech base and other with almost everything. So the Arsonists raid the Phantoms' buildings to steal food items and necessary fuels for their people since they're mostly unarmed due to lack of weapons they try to use their brain as much as possible. 

Y/N works in one of the tech bases of Arsonists and right now she's standing with her five more mates trying to figure out how to break through these large gates of the villain's building, one of his most strong headquarters. 

They've to collect some data before another truck of fuel arrives for Phantoms next Wednesday so they could have access to it without doing much effort. 

Once sneaking in successfully because the two guards were too muddled in gossiping their arsess about their maiden. The building's nothing too extravagant, sleek and able to live, dimmed to an unpleasant light indicating everyone inside it is sleeping. 

She barges into the villain's room easily and almost had all the information in her hands from his drawers when the door to the room banged close, startling her at spot and the frames of her glasses fell on the carpeted floor. 

"Shit." 

"D'ya think cursing would take ye' out of here? if so you're down bad" Her heart sinks in when his cold insensate voice booms within the walls — a heavy boot comes crushing her glasses, again and again mercilessly. 

Her blood boils. Because, what the fuck. Doesn't he have any manners? 

"Do you think I need my glasses to punch the shit out of you, you prick!!" She pounced at him, almost breaking his nose into a splitted eiffel tower but he dodged it, twisting her wrists at her back and snatching the files from her sneering menacingly —- letting her painful grunts fly over his head without any remorse. 

"Well, well." She yelps when he tightens his grip angrily, "Look what cat dragged in come little mousey we're going to have some fun." She didn't know until now that someone could be this strong as he puts her in a chair like a rag doll binding her with no escape out. 

She tries to squirm and wriggle her butt out but he just tuts standing tall and evil in front of her, she rakes her gaze slowly up to his tanned biceps and clavicles popping from underneath his flimsy shirt, matted curls grazing his shoulders. 

"Oh no, trust me sweetheart, you're going to want to stay strapped in here. We're going to find out how many times an Arsonist can break –- and for the fact my people will kill you on the spot if you step out of my room." Shiver runs down her body from fear and he chuckles, flopping onto the edge of his bed, man spreading, leaning onto the heels of his palms behind him. 

"You're pathetic!" She spits out. Full of venom. 

"Pfft, a thief telling me that 'm pathetic." He shakes his head and she's despising his audacity as if he rules the world. She could kick him square in his sexy face but the thing's she's bound to this damn uncomfy chair. 

"Atleast, I don't go on killing people." She grumps and it's like she pushed a button when his irises turn pitch dark. Her eyes widen in astonishment, reeking with fear when he leaves his spot in a thunder striding towards her furiously and drags the chair closer to him, almost lifting it inches above floor. 

The next thing she knows that a gun is resting against her temple ready to be fired, "Ye' really that desperate fo' me to prove it to you, huh?" He growls, hooded gaze following the gun that's sliding down her cheek and the way her breath wavers —- lips trembles, nose twitches he knows he's fucked. 

"Will it hurt?" If she's going to die it better be an easy way. 

His eyes soften at that. Taking in the rosy features of her, the plushiness and squishiness of her skin that his fingers feels like dipping into cream. The women of Phantom aren't like this; they're built differently to fight and kill who wrongs them -- they're almost heartless at this point. 

"Dunno, You'll get to know after taking one." He shrugs like it's not a biggie tipping her chin with the gun's pointer and her eyelids slip shuts. She couldn't cry. Even her dead body wouldn't forgive her if she would cry infront of her worst enemy for the last time. 

"I hate you, Harry. I'd never ever forgive you for kidnapping my cat when we were small." There she said it. If she's gonna die soon she better let it off her chest. Before it could hit him right in the wound he builds a shield fast arguing back with a stoic chuckle. 

"Guilt tripping wouldn't help, darling." He tuts patting her cheek with the gun's barrel —- funny case it's empty of bullets. He just shooted all of them whilst doing target practice. 

"Fuck you." She yells. 

"It'd take much more action than just undressing me naked with your bare eyes." He squeaks dramatically. Stepping away and pouts when she huffs trying to kick her feet in his direction. 

"Not my fault that you're a perv." 

He pouts feigning fake disappointment putting a hand on his chest, "You're such a grudge holder." 

"Think about 10 ways to fuck me until then 'm heading to make amends for you -- see what they offer in return of their precious nerd." He smirks, it's sad such a gorgeous face could be such evil she thinks. 

// 

When he comes back she's fallen asleep from getting tired and exhausted being trapped in the same spot for hours, "Sorry, peaches but they don't want you back –- even told me to kill you if that what it ta —- oooh" He halts in his tracks closing the door behind him quietly not to wake her up and pads softly towards her, putting her dangling head back gently in a comfortable position and tucks a strand of her hair that's tickling her nose behind her ear. 

You're not supposed to act that way with your enemy, you FUCKER. 

His brain screams but his heart says otherwise. 

She has changed. She never cries anymore. Everytime they kidnapped her or she ended up being caught from his henchmen —- she'd always need company to make her feel less frightened from the hollowness of their buildings, would cry when they'd lock her up in dark rooms. 

It's awfully hurtful how once bestfriends turns into rivals just because of a conflict that ruined their and their families lives. 

She has been doing all of this for people who doesn't even care about her. They're using her and many others like her to build a nuclear power plant so they could become intimidating. 

He retires to sleep. Debating in his sleep whether he should just free her and tell her to sleep in one of the rooms of the buildings but soon the possibilities died when he was high in his slumber. 

// 

He groans, knuckling the sleepiness away from his eyes. He woke up from loud the thumping and found Y/N trying to break the door knob, he winces covering his ears when she screams watching him lunge towards her in rush. 

His chocolate curls bouncing atop his head. His emerald eyes speaking with morning's gold and lips ripe like cherry. His brows kinked in annoyance and expression pinched in rage. 

"You're confident." He rasps out in his morning husk and slams his hands on either side of her head trapping, cornering her between him and the wall.

"Did you really think it was going to be this easy." He nothing but purres, pushing her against the door. She gasps abruptly aware of their height differences moreso the radiation of power he daunts that she ignored her whole life. 

"Hmm." He hummed. Eyes black with intimidation burning her under the intensity of it, he keeps his focus on her, smirking. "It suits you. This trying to fight me, desperation is a beautiful look on you." 

"Fuck you." 

"I mean if, ask nicely." His smile is sweetly honey and lethal if you ask me. 

She glares at him with blazing daggers, "This isn't the way you make people love you." Her chest heaving with his heat close to her and his scent enveloping her. 

"Love?" He laughs fondly even, crinkled forming by his eyes and he breathes out when she hovers her dry lips over his's, "Sweet thing this isn't about love — if ye ask me far from that." He's lying. He's full of bullshit. 

"And yet you don't touch me or hurt me." She squints her eyes up at him wrecking her brain how to slip away from his hold, "If you beg so." He simpers awfully lewd for her. Sure as rock for what he said with his whole chest. 

"Come get me then!" She trips him aside and rushes for the door when he pushes her into it tightening his hand around her throat, it's aching him to tell her the truth but he wants to let her know her worth. He rests his forehead against her's muttering a rumble deep within his chest, "They don't want you Y/N." Her windpipes squeezes painfully. The statement punching her lungs. Tears springing in her eyes. 

"You're lying!!" She looks up at him shattered and desperate. 

He caresses his knuckles against her tear stained cheek, "Shh, shh baby I'll always want you even if they don't — " He jerks back when she blows hit at his brawny chest yelling at him. 

"It's because of you!! You, you, you." He sighs. Grabbing her wrists and pining them above her head, "Shut up, please." His chillness irks her more and she nips at him feastly. 

"Make me." So he does. When her eyes drift up at his determined ones it takes her breath away and she knew it was over for her. 

His lips catches her's in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Nothing gentle mind mushing about it rather pricking needles into her skin with the severeness of it. She feels the door rattling against her back when he shifts, pushing her against it with his hips, every thought of her exploding into white noise of want and lust. The dark curl of desire twisting in her stomach and pearling sweat on her neck. With the last thread of restraint in herself she tries to pull away. 

"No." He says bringing her lips back to his's. Cupping her cheeks to deepen the kiss and it's ardent as before not loosing it's spark, she slips her hands under his shirt — pulling him closer and the low groan at the back of his throat, a small pleading noise of want sets her skin on fire. 

"Fuck me."  She mewls. Trying to latch on his body like a kitten with it's dainty paws. 

He glides his clammy palms down her bum and grabs her thighs wrapping them around his waist. Not breaking the kiss but tasting ever dulcet corners of her mouth and creating heavenly noises. 

The next thing they know she's crawling back with the help of her bum to settle in the nest of pillows and he's fumbling with his belt buckle quite aggressively, she tugs the hem of his shirt down not satiated enough from having his lips on her and meanders her fingers in his hair to pull at them roughly in order to flush her chest up against his's.

"Never thought your sheets would have smelled other than sex." Because, genuinely. They smell that of fresh mint and roses. 

"So, you think of me doing dirty on this bed you're laying at the moment?" He asks mock and degradation evident in his tone, "D'ya get wet dreamin' 'bout me railin' ye' to death?" He grazes his teeth along her jaw and sucks at her earlobe counting in her silence. 

"Shut up." She gasps, probably from the abrupt press of his bulge against the inside of her thigh. 

"Make me then." He growls. Fisting the hem of her hoodie and pulls it over her head throwing it among his skinny jeans. Her head falls back and lips tremble from the effect of slap he landed at her outer thigh —-- she knows she can't shut him.

Though he knows that her single command and he'd be at his knees for her. 

When she clings to him for dear life and whimpers in his ear softly, his eyes widen in realization and he leans away to watch her expressions diffuse into manifold emotions. His nose scrunches up and he holds back his cooes for her. 

She's a subby. A cute one. 

Her eyes blink open to the sight of him out of his boxers and it waters her mouth —- her mind manipulating her to lunge forward and take his heavy member in her palm to give a good suck to his shiny crimson head. 

Down her throat. Nestle her nose against the trim patch of hair under his balls. 

"Like what y'see, doll?" He highers his chin quite smug about her staring and she hates him for that, "Pretty cocky for someone who likes staring at his enemy's tits." Her voice groggy. She wheezes a squeak through her nose when Harry pulls his shirt over his head revealing toned pecs and abs -- skin sewn with tats. 

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to stare at it for longer when that shirt comes wrapping around her eyes blocking her sight. 

He can never let her have nice things would he?

"Wanted to gag your mouth with it … but I'd rather love hearing you moan fo' daddy." He nips at her collarbones -- sucking it harshly to leave a prominent mark. His calloused hand rubs over her tummy smiling against her skin when she jolts and lets a little squeal slip. 

His cock drips precome at her tummy and her breath shudders into heavy pants when the tip of his cock dipped in her belly button nudging it. 

"Ha —- " He glides his sticky head down her happy trail and slips his large palm into her panties cupping her with his middle finger teasing her entrance, "Couldn't hear you!" He ducks down to put his ear near her lips and drums the pads of his digits against her cheek. 

She huffs and squirms for a second then moans breathily when he spanks the side of her hip leaving a sting, "Oh my god, daddy." His grin victorious and he lowers down to smudge his lips against her parted ones -- kissing her tongue and humming around it. 

She's somewhere it's hard to configure out, in between paradise and wonderland. 

"Tell me princess, what d'I do with you in your filthy dreams?" He grabs her jaw patching gentle pecks against her lips and he slops his finger into her throbbing pussy, "Fuckin' drippin' down ye' bum fo' me." She cries out trying to hook her thigh around him but he hisses slapping her cunt hardly -- turning her into a thrashing mess. She's trying hard to suppress the bitter-sweet sensation of her own body getting out of control and her glistening pussy lips flutter erratically creating sloppy noises. 

She squirts drenching the sheets underneath them and her panties. 

He slides his arm under her arching back pushing her up against his chest with a jerk, "Daddy's askin' you somethin'." He grits, propping his knee in between her thighs to rub it against her soaking centre. 

She gulps, licking her dry lips, "You–your rings … ah!" Her whimpers are muffled against his chest and he twists his thumb in tight circles to smear her wetness from her slit to clitoris, "What 'bout them, doll?" 

How does she tell him she liked what he did earlier. 

"Daddy, please … " She whines blindly searching for his face but he grips her wrists in his one hand and groans, "How's daddy gonna make you feel good when you don't tell him, pet?" He takes a kitten lick of her perky nipple. Teasing her areola with the tip of his cold tongue against her warm sweaty body —- he laps at it hungrily then creates a suckling noises, the noises, his slobbery tongue on her body, his fingers curled inside her pussy and the thick humidity is too overwhelming, she feels like fainting. 

She wants him, inside her needy pussy. 

She can't take the teasing anymore. 

"Spanking! I – I liked it when you did it, please." He kisses her nipple for the last time before smashing his mouth against her's in a fervent sinfulness and parts away with a smooching noise to sit back on his heels, "It wasn't that hard was it? Just a word and I could give you my whole world." The sincerity in his voice makes her want to hug him and kiss him for lifetime but for now he has other plans as he rips her panties away moaning obscenely gruff at the sight of her pussy weeping for him to pound his cock inside her, so ready and full of dripping honeyed wetness  for him. 

"Your safe word is clouds." He whispers in her ear. He knows her limits and her resistance but by any chance he'd cross it he'd never forgive himself, "What's it?" He asks and she says in wavering, "Clouds." 

"Atta girl." He pets her cheek. 

Her nail scratches the side of his hands that are pinning her down when he spits on her already damp cunt, a loud noise resonates along with her needy cries when his free hand adorned in jewels came spanking her pussy and her pelvis remains lifted in air bathing in the sting of metal and the throb rattling in her whole core. 

"This's what you wanted?" He kisses his teeth slapping her slick clit again and again, "To be roughed up by daddy, hmm." She bobs her head squirming and wriggling. Her words struck in her throat. 

"To be manhandled." He hums a growlish moan tasting his own fingers coated in her juices, "I'll show you what being manhandled really feels like." He promises her. She gasps a sweet yelp when he flips her over and throws her bum up.

His cock rubbing against her thigh and her heartbeat fastens, anticipating something, crimping the sheets in her fists and mewls into the mattress when he spanks her ass loving the way it jiggles stroking it afterwards to subside the burn down before landing another brutal one. 

She bolts her eyes shut throwing back her hips at him and he lays all the way over her back pushing her down on the bed, her cum trickling down the inside of her thigh, "Want daddy's cock?" He asks. Slicking the head of his prick up and down her asshole and slit. 

When she nods vigorously he bumps it in furious circles against her swollen bundle of nerves, "Then beg fo' it," He says intimidatingly and she doesn't waste a second before blabbering shamelessly. 

"Daddy … please I want your massive cock inside me, all of it." In her entire lifetime -- she never once uttered these kind of words. 

His heart mushes into a puddle seeing her a babbling mess and grabby hands for him, he kisses her gently speaking to her with foremost affectionate, "shh, shh moppet. You could have it anytime you want it, daddy's g'na fill you to rim with his cum and make you keep it there for hours with his prick still snug inside your little pussy, just made for him, c'mere...yeah just like that." He lays her back gently that her front is facing him now and wraps his hand around her calve raising it and pushing it against her chest firmly.

A series of pornographic moans and whimpers echoes in his bedroom when he seathes inside her slowly stretching her out in by inch leaving a burn behind her pulsating walls, their breath laboured breaths mingling, "Fuck you're so warm baby —-- hugging daddy's cock so good." He whines looking down where they're connected and knotted. His stomach twists and turns, his hips stiffens and he resists from pushing inside her when she's not ready but her milking him with her wetness isn't doing him any mercy too. 

She gropes his ass, nudging him to move and their teeths clanks, temples falls against eachother and lips whisper prayers of their unrequited love when he pulls all the way back to pound back inside her roughly. 

"You're daddy's good girl, making him feel so good. I want to keep you to myself. all of you and cherish you, make love to you, w'na mark you however I want." He groans eyes rolling back under his closed lids grinding his hips against her's in rhythmic pleasuring motions to give her clit stimulations and she cries out feeling another bursting orgasm bubbling in her tummy. 

"'M gonna cum, daddy!" She tugs at his roots and he drives more maniacly inside her, "Squirt around daddy's cock pet, so your pussy could swallow it deeper inside you." The headboard of bed hits against the wall vigorously and she digs her heels deeper into the dimples at his back moaning at the top of her lungs when she gushes all over his dick making more squelching, soapy, dirty noises of him raming inside her. 

She desires for more. 

She has become one little insatiable thing. 

His balls smacks against her bum and his thursts turn faster to chase his high, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He curses nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and keeps his hand around his throat with the slight pressure of claimation. 

"Come fo' me again." He spanks her ass and she clamps shut down at him pushing him to the edge of ecstasy, "Squeezing me so tight -- gimme more, I know you can princess." Her legs tremble around his waist when she crampies around him and his cock's head strokes against her sweet spot doing wonders to just topple her off real quick. 

"Daddy!" She feels floaty and foggy head coming on his cock for the many times she has forgotten. Her mind blocking out even the weak shuddering whimpers and beaten moans of Harry as he reaches his orgasm unloading inside her -- his cum sticking thickly to her walls and some of it oozing outside of her pussy hole but he pumps it back with lazy strokes. 

He lifts his smushed face from the dip of her neck, his own curls sweaty against the nape of his neck and he smoothes his palms down her sides to calm her, his lips brushing featherly against the corner of her mouth as she keeps on blabbering something. 

When he tries to pull out gently she cries out pawing at his shoulders, "Daddy no!" He caresses her sweaty hair back and gets rid of her blindfold, pecking her nose sweetly. 

He wants to take care of her. He yearned to have her like this for years. He has to bring her back from her sub-space before it's too late. 

"It's no daddy anymore, petal. I'll crush you in this position — " Carefully he tries to retreat but stop when she says in a very dejected feeble voice, bottom lip wobbling and tears springing at the corners of her eyes, "You don't want me too?" OH NO. This's what Harry was afraid about. A breakdown. He saw the storm coming but didn't know it could be this worst right when she's in her sub-space. 

His face pales at that. His state in frenzy and panic. 

"No bubba. I want you my precious girl -- s'just you're gonna get tired like this, hmm. 'N I have so much to show you and make you meet new people -- couldn't have me baby walkin' on her wobbly legs for whole day could I?" He cups her cheeks tenderly and smiles down at her warmly smothering her in devoted kisses. 

"Promise, daddy?" She sniffles staring up at him with doe innocent eyes and he shakes his head, "Harry sweet angel, come back to me moppet." He keeps his gaze locked with her's, gliding his thumb delicately against her cheeks and seals his promise with a kiss. 

"Promise." 

She lets him pull out and he shushes her wrecked whimpers with his lips. Falling to side with a large puff of breather and embraces her with his arm slinged around her shoulders protectively and she hides her face in his chest, mumbling incoherent things and he tries to stay with her emotionally and physically much as possible -- assuring her and soothing her with his sweet nothings. 

"Harry." She whispers softly and his ears perks up at that looking down at her with most loving eyes, "Hi baby." He giggles quietly kissing the tip of her nose and she sniffs cuddling into him. 

"Sorry —- " He shakes his head pinching her chin to make her look up. 

"You don't have to darling -- s'okay, everything's alright." After, making sure she's okay and giving her million re-assurances because he loves to he cleaned her with a damp wash rag. 

"Such a pretty babe." He makes her blush treating her as if she's a china glass doll who'd break at his slightest poke and showers her in praises and kisses because dunno who got her self-esteem and confidence like that but that person sure needs to get punched in their face. 

"Did I hurt you?" He asks tenderly applying a thin layer of cream on her red imprints. She shakes her intervining her fingers into his's one by one and kisses his knuckle, "No." 

"Good." He chuckles as if he was holding his breath. 

"How bout you take a lil nap and I see if I could bring us some brekkie, hmm?" He's gonna break his own rule. Taking food from mess area to your rooms and taking long showers was never allowed, having lights on after 12 because of the risk of attacks. 

"'M not hungry, please stay." Her eyes half open and her face buried into his scented pillow, "Dunno. But to me you look like y'could faint any time soon." He says sternly pulling a snugly clean duvet over her body. 

"Okie but come back quick." 

"Don't worry. In a snap I'll be infront of you." 

//

It's her fourth day here. She came out of his room to socialize just a day before and she realized from the nasty glowers thrown her way that not a single person likes her. 

But it felt like spending a lifespan with Harry. To fill the emptiness of all those moments of their childhood together they lost once after the war. 

She got to know he's the best cuddler and likes to be a small spoon, she loves to jetpack him. He seems rather scary and is scary when he's commanding people off -- they wouldn't dare but to speak a word over him but he's this big softie Y/N likes to squish in their privacy. 

He got her glasses fixed and put them over her nose with a mishevious kiss, she was unable to not to grin when he murmered against her lips, "Now you could punch me with your glasses on." 

"Seems like I don't have to do that anymore." She shrugged squealing afterwards when he threw her over his shoulder tickling her till all she coul see was him and stars. 

It was all going on track until now when she was passing through the lobby to go to Harry who's practicing out in field, "What are you doing here Alex?" She asks angrily grabbing his arm and he tells her feeling relieved she's okay, "I'm here to take you back." 

"But they don't want me back." She grits, he catches her wrist pleading her sadly, "We want you back -- Nia waits for you daily." Nia is his five years daughter. 

"I know that … but — " How she's gonna tell him she's in love with one person they despise with their whole hearts. 

"But what — "

"Alex!!" He was in the midst when she sees a bullet approaching his way from the side of his shoulder and screeches loudly pushing him aside, the bullet makes it's home in her chest. 

It was fired from Harry's gun with his own hands that were loving on her an hour ago. Life drains out of his body and he feels sickness approaching to split his throat, knees turning weak as he stares his shaking hand in horror. 

Before, he could do anything another bullet hits Y/N in shoulder knocking her to floor and this time it was one of his people, the shot was fired on instinct. 

"Put your gun down!!" He shouts at him shoving him away with a single forceful push and strides towards where the love of his life's laying in a pool of blood. 

He pulls his hair maniacly, falling to his knees and pulls her up in his lap cradling her head gently to press his lips against her forehead, "No,no,no,no baby." He sobs wiping his tears away harshly to see her properly. 

"Ouch. It actually hurts." She gives him a frail smile raising her shaky hand to cup his cheek. 

Will it hurt? 

You'll get to know after taking one. 

He wishes he could takes his words back. 

"You'll be fine, you're okay, 'm so so sorry moppet. Didn't-- didn't know y'were standing behind him, bu –-- but s'...s'okay yeah —-- call the doctor!! Why nobody has called him yet!!!" His scream thunders aggressively as everyone watches  their commander this defenceless and vulnerable infront of them for the first time in shock. 

"It's not your fault, okay?" She manages to speak groaning and eyes rolling back from pain residing in her bones torturesly, he cries out like a wounded puppy patting her cheek to keep her awake, "Please stay with me baby, please." Her chest tightens. His chest tightens from the fear of loosing her and he stands up carrying her bridal style tumbling his way on wobbly legs towards the medical ward in the building. 

His tears shiny droplets on her skin and she nuzzles into his fragrance for the last time. 

"There was no happy ending to this," She murmurs. Any, sign of life fading from inside her and replacing her eyes with stoness.

He brings her closer to himself, "hey, hey now none of that -- you're not leaving. 'M not letting you leave." He kicks open the door and lays her limp body on the stretcher. Snapping his head outrageously in every direction to find any doctor but none and drags his palms down his teary face.

He couldn't stop crying.

He's loosing the sunlight of his bleak life he must protect her at all costs.

But, life's prize is something that would have him selling all of what he had worked for and still he'd be unable to even bring her back from cold dark earth.

"Shit. Shit ---– I'll patch you up myself. I know how to take a bullet out — " He creates a ruckus around to collect stuff, "Harry! Harry! listen to me." but her hollow anguish calls for him breaks him at last. 

"How about you spend these last few minutes with me because 'm really 'bout to die commander." She tries to keep her anxious voice cheery but fails drastically coughing blood, "Don't say that baby -- I just got you, don't leave me, don't make me hate myself again." Sad tears trickles down her cheeks and he feels like fainting imagining the pain, agony and fear she's suffering from. 

She's hating to leave him.

"Maybe in afterlife, we could have a nice homely house, long warm baths and two smol kittens —- and oh I forgive you for kidnapping my cat." She admires him for the last time wiping his tears away and tries to lift his head that's lowered into shame. 

She's so fond of him at the moment.

She gulps, trying to gasp for oxygen feeling her heartbeat drop to zero, pleading him, "Tell me you love me before I go." His bloodshot eyes snap to her's and his chest heaves ruggedly with heartbreaking sobs -- his words full of sorrow tasting the bitterness of goodbye on her lips streaking away the blood on her mouth. 

"I love you so much, baby. Never stopped. Never will." She cries at last kissing him back with all the blood she has left pumping to her heart and tries to exchange the words but it was too late before she lost it all -- cold in his loving embrace. 

"Stay…." He begs praying like he did never before. 

"Y/N!!" He screams trying to shake her alive and hugs his angel to himself with mournful wails. 

Everyone standing outside the room knows that they'll never see this Harry again. 

[sirius-archive]

Chaos Theory Ch. 17

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader, Harry Potter x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader, George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: ......bruh. you guys are so patient :') thank you so much for sticking with me even though its taken me AGES to update. Thank you for sending me beautiful messages and commenting and pretty much helping me through my writers block :'( I don't deserve it tbh.

Summary: Harry has just admitted his feelings for you, Snape is teaching you Legilimency, Cedric invited you to spend Easter at his place w his parents!

***

The days that follow an argument are always painfully awkward, to say the least.

You feel like you’re dancing around the mouth of a gaping chasm, watching Harry from the other side. It’s like the summer holidays all over again; the furtive glances, the awkward, mumbled excuses, the sinking feeling that you were being talked about in secret. It’s worse now, though, because you can’t backtrack. You can’t ignore Harry’s feelings and you can’t forget about what he had confessed, what he had practically screamed from the top of the Owlery.

“IM IN LOVE WITH YOU!”

How would you recover from this?

The morning before you leave for the Easter Holidays, you get yourself ready for the day and trudge down to stairs to the Gryffindor common room. Fortunately, Harry isn’t there, but Ron and Hermione are and they look up at you with sad smiles as you draw closer.

“Morning guys,” you mumble, fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

Ron and Hermione echo you before Hermione asks how you’re feeling.

“Horrible,” you admit, dropping into the seat beside Ron, “I feel so guilty and really really stupid. It was obvious Harry liked me but I just ignored it...I ran away from it...and Harry had been through so much and I was such a horrible friend and a horrible person!“

“(Y/N)!” Ron cuts off your spiraling thoughts by patting the top of your head. You sigh, burying your face in your hands as Ron continues, “Look, you’re not a horrible person. Sure this whole thing could have been handled better but that doesn’t make you a bad person, Just conflict averse.”

“You’re not making it any better, Ron,” Hermione chides, waspishly.

“I’m not, am I?”

“Look, (Y/N)—“

But before Hermione can continue, Harry approaches and you jump up from your seat.

“Harry!” You Yelp and then swallow, calming your pacing heart, “How-um-how did you sleep?”

Harry shrugs, “Ok.”

“Good!”

Silence pulses between the four of you, no one daring to speak. The only noise comes from other Gryffindors standing in groups, scattered through the common room. You fingers dig nervously into the skin of your wrist.

“Hey guys,” Neville greets cheerily, waving happily, “Want to come down to breakfast with me?”

“Sure!” You spurt without thinking and rush to his side. Your enthusiasm makes Neville blush and stammer out a timid ‘cool’ before you lead him out toward of the common room.

You keep yourself preoccupied with Neville the whole time you and your friends make the short trip to the Great Hall. Though you don’t actually participate in the conversation, you fill it with enough ‘okay’ and ‘oh’s and ‘right’ to trick Neville into thinking you’re listening. It’s hard to keep track of the conversation when it’s entirely one sided, but you can’t help your drifting thoughts.

Was it always going to be like this between you and Harry? Had you just sacrificed your friendship with him because of your tendency to flee from your problems? Ron had called it ‘conflict aversion’ and he was right; by ignoring all the signs, you were avoiding Harry’s feelings and distancing yourself from your friends. This whole time, you thought they were the ones drifting away when really it was you.

And now, you were going to do it again.

Instead of sitting with your friends, you elected to sit with Fred, George and Lee Jordan, doing your best to distract yourself from your feelings. After breakfast, you walked to Potions with Dean and Seamus and didn’t stop when Ron tried to get your attention.

“Hey Pavarti,” you tack on a fake smile and she smiles back at you, “Can I sit with you and Lavender today?”

Pavarti pulls out the stool next to her and Lavender leans across Pavarti, arching an eyebrow curiously.

“Not sitting with Ron, Hermione or Harry?”

“The last time I sat with them I got put next to Malfoy.”

The girls cringe in unison. You hide your smirk as you take your seat, dropping your book bag beside you. Lavender has always been nosy but you’ve learned how to deal with her.

“Get your textbooks out,” Snape snaps as he storms into the dungeons, “You’ll be taking notes today.”

“Great, two hours of writing down words I don’t understand,” Pavarti grumbles. Snape narrows his eyes on her and Pavarti drops her gaze.

“Do you have a problem, Miss Patil?”

“No, Professor.”

Snape huffs and whirls around, taking his seat at his desk. His dark, beady eyes meet yours and you look away, unable to take the intensity of his steely gaze. The last time you had seen him, you had accidentally pried into a corner of his mind that he had wanted to keep hidden.

Sighing, you pull out your text book, parchment and quill and get to work. It’s not exactly riveting, but you welcome the distraction, taking detailed notes and forcing yourself to memorise the importance of different potions.

You don’t know how long you’ve been writing for before Pavarti suddenly nudges you, hissing your name.

“Here,” she says, handing you a folded piece of parchment, “From Hermione.”

Curious, you thank Pavarti and take the parchment, unfolding the small, torn piece. The scribble, however, is bigger than Hermione’s tiny writing and a little neater than Ron’s chicken scratch which means...

It’s from Harry.

We should talk.

You glance at Snape. He hasn’t noticed you yet. You glance at the note again.

We should talk.

You know he’s right...and you do want to talk. You want to apologise for the way you treated him, of course you do, but you’re not going to apologise for loving Cedric. Besides, you can’t write down everything you want say in a tiny note, especially when Snape is a few metres away.

Tearing off a tiny piece of your parchment, you hastily write your reply.

Not like this. Let’s talk at lunch.

Dragging your hand under the table, you nudge Pavarti and hand her the note. You feel her shift beside you as she dutifully delivers it to Hermione. Twisting around slightly in your seat, you watch Hermione stealthy hand the note to Harry who scrambles to unfold it. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and reads.

Not wanting to stare for too long, you turn around and face your book, pretending to read. Your peripherals pick up a familiar, blond-haired shape and you glance at Draco who is - much to your chagrin - staring at you. Again.

What is his problem?

Before you can mouth a curse word at him, Pavarti hands you Harry’s response. You tear your eyes away from Malfoy and read Harry’s note.

You’re right. Let’s talk tonight.

You bite your bottom lip. You’ve got a secret Legilimency lesson with Snape after dinner and then a Howler meeting after that. You scribble this onto the parchment, suggesting to talk at lunch instead, and send it through the human chain to Harry.

Harry’s response is quicker than you anticipated, and you find out why after you unfold his note.

Can’t. Got to meet with Bagman. What about tomorrow?

You swallow, tapping your quill against the note, sending tiny flecks of ink spraying across the parchment. Tomorrow, you leave for the Diggorys and you have a feeling that telling Harry that will make it worse. But you can’t lie to him either, what would be the point of that?

You tell him your plan for the Easter holidays, admitting to staying with the Diggorys, before handing the note to Pavarti.

“I should get paid for this,” Pavarti quips, her smile playful. You smile back apologetically.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fun. Funner than doing Potions work anyway.”

You wait anxiously for Harry’s reply. Was telling Harry about your trip to the Diggorys place a good idea? Would that make things more awkward? You glance over your shoulder, sneaking a peak at Harry. His face is inscrutable as he stares at your note. How did he get so good at hiding his feelings?

He was always good. You just knew him better back then.

Pavarti whispers your name and you blink, returning to yourself. She drops Harry’s response into your lap and you pick it up, carefully unfolding it. Before you can read it, though, thin fingers swoop in and collect it.

“Passing notes are we, Arden?”

Oh shit.

“Um...”

“It was me.”

Harry’s voice is loud and clear from over your shoulder and you hear the scrape of wooden legs against the concrete floor as he stands. Snape glares at him, upper lip curled into a horrible, twisted sneer.

“Of course it was you, Potter,” he spits, venomously, “It’s always you. Ten points from Gryffindor, and you’ll both get one weeks detention after the holidays.”

Detention?! For passing notes?

Malfoy and the Slytherins snicker gleefully

as Snape throws Harry’s note into the bin.

“What?!” Harry snaps, “That’s ridiculous!”

You whip around, shooting Harry a panicked look. Harry ignores you, glaring fiercely at Snape.

“Be grateful it’s not during the holidays,” Snape snarls, “And another five points from Gryffindor.”

Hermione grips Harry’s arm and ushers him back into his seat. You watch as Harry seethes, his eyes murderous, the energy surrounding him practically bursting with rage. Why is Harry so upset about getting detention? Really, it would be more of a surprise if Snape went an hour without dishing out detentions.

After class, you race to catch up to Harry, meeting him outside the dungeons.

“Sorry for getting you in trouble,” he mutters bitterly.

That’s why.

“No it’s fine Harry, seriously,” you smile, hoping that it makes Harry feel a little more better. It works. Harry’s shoulders relax and the corner of his mouth ticks a little.

“So...Um...” he scratches the back of his neck, “We do need to talk.”

“How about after my Howler meeting?” You ask hopefully.

Harry nods, “Okay. When do you finish?”

“Around ten.”

“Alright, I’ll wait in the common room for you.”

You smile again, “Sounds like a plan.”

****

“You’ve been practicing.”

You’re not sure whether Snape is impressed or if he’s making a simple statement, but it’s the longest sentence he’s said since your lesson started almost an hour ago.

And he’s right. You have been practicing on random students, dipping into their mind briefly and making sure not to dive too deep. You’re so brief that their thoughts project back as just random jumbles, nothing you can string together, but it’s enough for you to gain an understanding of Legilimency and how powerful of a tool it can be.

“Um...yes.”

Snape steps toward you, “Practicing on fellow students without their consent is against the school policy.”

You nod, “I know but I’ve been careful. I try not to stay inside their minds enough to understand their thoughts or see their memories.”

Snape cocks an eyebrow as he stares at you for a moment. It’s as though he can’t decide whether to scold you or praise you.

“I won’t punish you this time,” he finally says in his low, menacing snarl, “But if you continue to practice on students there will be consequences.”

You frown, “So how am I supposed to practice?”

“With me,” he snips, “Or with your friends. Surely you would have told them by now.”

You haven’t told Ron or Harry...but Hermione knows. You nod and mumble an okay.

“You’re dismissed,” he says, flicking his wrist toward the door.

“Yes Professor.”

“And (Y/N)?” You stop and turn to Snape who stares at you with glinting dark eyes, “Don’t let me catch you passing notes in my class again.”

You nod again, wordlessly, before making your way out of Professor Snape’s office and toward the Howler newsroom.

It’s a short trek, and you don’t pass anyone aside from Peeves, who tries to startle you by bursting out of the wall and launching a ping-pong ball at your head. You manage to dodge just in time, rolling your eyes at his antics as his cackle rings through the hallway.

“Asshole,” you mutter.

Finally, you arrive at the Newsroom and Juniper Bishop greets you with a radiant smile.

“Hey (Y/N)!” She says, cheerily, “Long time no see, right?”

She squeezes you into a bone crushing hug and you nearly get a mouthful of her raspberry-scented hair.

“Yeah actually,” you smile politely at her when she finally releases you, “Have you been well?”

Juniper winces, “Sort of…I guess you heard about me and Rachel…”

“I did,” you say, injecting as much warmth and compassion into your voice as you can, “Are you okay?”

Juniper shrugs, “It was a mutual thing, though it’s kind of awkward now.”

You’re about to comment when Harper Shacklebolt strides to the front of the room, sticks her fingers in her mouth, and issues an ear-shattering, hair-raising, demon-summoning whistle.

Your hands fly to your ears as the high-pitched screech explodes across the room, forcing everyone else to scamper to their seats.

You find a spot beside Troy, who gives you a sunshine-warm smile and pats your back.

“Alright, shut up,” she shouts, and the last whispers of gossip stop abruptly, “We are now two months away from the third and final task. I want the Howler to reflect the anticipation that everyone will most likely be feeling as we draw closer and closer to June 24th. Which is why I want an exclusive interview with our four Triwizard champions! Start drafting and planning because our first issue will be released next Thursday.”

With a flick of her wand, a large curtain falls away from the chalkboard, revealing four photos of the champions.

Padma giggles and points at Cedric, “Did Harper find that photo in your diary, (Y/N)?”

Harper folds her arms across her chest and pierces Padma with a glare that could wither roses.

“Padma, If you spent half as much time actually working as you do gossiping about (Y/N), you might actually write something that isn’t utter garbage.”

Padmas face falls and she shrinks in her chair. You reach across and squeeze her hand under the table as Harper continues.

“This week, we’ll be focusing on Viktor Krum. Everyone needs to be on board with this - I need this to be the best series the Howler has published since its debut back in 74.”

With that, Harper turns her back and everyone gets to work.

Immediately, you lean across your desk and catch Padma’s gaze. Tears pool at the corner of her eyes and a pang of sympathy throbs in your chest.

“Don’t worry about what Harper says, Padma,” you coo, patting her hand gently, “At the end of the day, it’s just a school newsletter.”

Troy slides onto your desk and rests a hand on her shoulder, “Beaides, Harpers first article was about Filch! Not to mention she misspelled his name through the entire thing so everyone started calling him ‘Thilch’ for the rest of the school year.”

A smile slowly blooms on Padma’s lips, dimpling her rosy cheeks. She gazes at Troy with twinkling, obsidian eyes.

“Thanks guys,” Padma mumbles bashfully, “Though we should probably get started on this article before Harper snaps at me again.”

Padma reaches into her book bag to fish out her parchment and quills, glancing away from Troy shyly. Troy playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, shooting you a winning grin.

“Heard you were going to Diggory’s tomorrow...” he mutters with a wink, “Meeting the parents already?”

You roll your eyes, “I’ve already met his dad.”

“Yes but it’s the mum you want to impress,” Troy says, “You may not know this but Cedric is a huge mummy’s boy.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah, Big time. And she goes full Mama bear mode, too. She’s scary as fuck. Used to be a psychiatrist at Azkaban if you can believe it.”

You shudder at the thought. It had been terrible enough when Demontors plagued the school last year, hovering over everyone’s shoulder like a curse. You couldn’t imagine what it’d be like to work with them for longer than a year.

“Yikes. That’s...wow.”

“Yeah,” Troy crosses his arms, “She’s pretty gutsy and she’s the type of person you don’t want to cross.”

“Well that’s not nerve wracking or anything. Thanks dickhead.”

Before Troy can respond, Harper spears you with her infamous death glare. You exchange a look with Troy, who laughs, unfazed, before you both decide to get on with your work.

Grabbing your quill and parchment, you head toward Harpers desk where she scribbles frantically against the chalkboard. She hardly spares you a glance and you have to clear your throat to lure her attention away from her work.

“I suppose you want me to interview Krum, then?” You ask. Harper simply nods, continuing to ignore you. You roll your eyes at her and plant your hands on your hips, “What you said to Padma was uncalled for.”

Finally, Harper gives some indication that she can hear you, grunting dismissively.

“It was true.”

“No it wasn’t,” you argue, “Padma is a really good writer.”

Harper sighs and picks up a finger of chalk, scrawling a note in barely-legible chicken scratch, “You should know by now that I don’t settle for ‘really good.’ I settle for excellent.”

“Congratulations, you sound exactly like my father.”

Harper pauses, finally turning to stare at you, “Your father is a literary genius. To be included in the same sentence as him is the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

“Oh boy, you must not get many compliments.”

Harper flashes a smirk, but her eyes betray her amusement.

“I don’t have time for people who are too sensitive to receive criticism,” Harper shrugs, turning back to the chalkboard, “Besides, I was right. If she didn’t gossip so much and focused on her articles, they wouldn’t be so shoddy.”

You frown at the back of her head. Just as you’re about to snap at her, Colin Creevey darts in front of you, beaming up at you with rosy cheeks and a shy smile. Daisy ambles behind him, a scowl souring her face.

“Hey (Y/N),” Colin says, cheerily, “Daisy and I were wondering if you’d seen Noah anywhere.”

“The little creep has missed two meetings already,” Daisy grumbles, rolling her eyes, “And there’s no way I’m doing this assignment alone with crack kid here.”

Your brows furrow in thought as you try to think back to when you last saw Noah, “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him for a while...”

Daisy sighs and drops her camera on Harper’s desk, “The Creevey kid’s on his own. Harper can yell at me all she wants; I’m not a babysitter.”

With that, she turns on the thick heel of her combat boots and storms off, completely ignoring Colin as he races after her.

The meeting drags on for another hour, in which you and Padma draft up some questions and submit them to Harper for her approval. She manages not to scrunch up the paper and hurl it at you - which is usually a good sign - but you can tell Padma is still on edge and Harper is still stubbornly unapologetic.

Eventually, you manage to peel yourself away from the newsroom and amble back toward the common room with Dean, laughing and joking on your way back.

“I swear one day Padma is going to punch Harper in the mouth,” Dean smirks, shaking his head, “And I don’t want to be there when it happens.”

“Knowing Harper, she’d probably punch Padma back,” you muse and Dean snorts in agreement.

“Who do you think would win?” He asks, “You know, if they got in a fight?”

“Definitely Harper.”

“I think Padma would get a few good throws in.”

“Maybe but have you seen the guns on Harpers arms? She would have Padma pinned in three seconds tops.”

Dean concedes with a shrug, “Okay you’re right. Harper wins. Now...Harper vs McGonagall. No wands. Just good old fashioned fight.”

“Oooh tough,” you think for a moment, “But I think McGonagall. Definitely McGonagall.”

“Agreed. McGonagall would murder Harper in two seconds flat. But how would she go against Dumbledore?”

You paused on a large stone step, thinking for a moment, “No wands?”

Dean shakes his head, “No wands.”

“Then McGonagall.”

Dean huffs a laugh, “You seem to have a lot of faith in McGongall.”

“Who doesn’t?” You counter, proceeding up the staircase, “She’s a total badass.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Dean says before he spins around to face you, walking backwards, “Okay real talk though. Who would win: me or Seamus?”

“Seamus, definitely. Is that even a question?”

Dean clutches his chest in mock hurt, “You’ve officially been disfriended.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It is now!” He claims, before turning to the Fat Lady, “Flabberghasted.”

You follow Dean through the portrait hole and find Harry sitting in an armchair by the fire. He hasn’t noticed your return, his eyes distracted by the flames as they dance and flicked in the fireplace.

“Night, Arden,” Dean says, peeling your attention away from Harry, “And don’t forget the new word of the day is disfriended.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you bid Dean a good night and you make your way over to Harry, clearing your throat to announce your arrival. Harry practically leaps from his seat when he sees you.

“Hi,” He murmurs

“Hey,” you smile softly, hoping it’ll hide your nerves, and nod at the fire, “You looked deep in thought.”

Harry shrugs, “I was just thinking about Sirius. I’m worried for him.”

“Me too. I wish he could live his life without having to hide. It’s the least he deserves.”

Harry nods wordlessly. Silence lapses between the two of you, spilling between the cracks dividing you.

You sigh, dropping into a couch and scrubbing your forehead in irritation, “I’m sorry about...everything. About leading you on.”

Harry chews his lip. It’s a little distracting.

“I know you are,” Harry says, as he takes the spot beside you, “And I know you didn’t do it deliberately. It just...hurts a little when the person you like doesn’t like you back. But I’ll get over it...it’s fine.”

“I shouldn’t have ignored your feelings, though. They’re valid. And, even though I’m not sorry for loving Cedric, I’m sorry for not being brave enough to talk to you properly.”

Harry tears his eyes away from the floor and for a moment your hit with a kaleidoscope of soft greens, a light show all for you. He reaches out, hesitating, hand hovering over your knee before he concedes. His hand is warm against your skin, a familiar, welcoming warmth.

“You’re the bravest person I know,” he stares and his conviction makes your heart soar, “Apart from Dumbledore.”

“Of course.”

You both laugh, like sharing a secret among friends, and it almost feels normal again, like when you were first years joking around the fire, before boyfriends and feelings and hormones.

“I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” Harry admits, his expression serious again, “You are one of the bestest friends I’ve ever had.”

“You too,” you rest your hand on his and squeeze, “So let’s move on. Let’s get past this.”

Harry nods in agreement. Maybe it won’t be exactly the same but at least it’ll be close.

It’s better than not having anything at all.

***

A/N prt 2

so i've been getting messages about whether I will write Reader losing her virginity to Cedric and, while I don't mind writing it, i know that there are some people who feel a bit eeky about reader being so young. (Honestly it is weird but you’d be surprised how many people want this)

So, I'm considering posting an extra chapter where Reader and Cedric do have sex on AO3 and everyone who is okay with reading it can head on over and read it. The chapter won't impact the story. However if the majority of people are okay with it then I'll post it on tumblr and AO3 and it will be mentioned in latr chapters. LMK what you think, please.

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[slashersins]

how you met thomas . . .

part six

( part one )  ( part two )  ( part three )  ( part four ) ( part five )

“ are you sure you don’t need help with anything , miss luda mae ? ”

“ oh now hush , you’re our guest . you just sit there and look pretty . i was worried that ol’ shirt of tommy’s might of swallowed you up , but you made it look nice . ”

you laughed , rubbing the back of your head and beaming as luda stood over a hot stove , making some sort of stew . hoyt was there , arms crossed and glaring at you . the feeling of his eyes burning holes into the back of your head making you a bit uncomfortable . but you guess anyone who just got chewed out by their momma in front of a stranger would feel like glaring . 

“ made ya look damn good enough to eat . ” hoyt spat out with venom . luda turned , giving her son a pointed and harsh look . 

“ now listen here . you’re gonna mind your manners or you’ll go bed hungry . i ain’t gonna have no disrespect in this house . quick your grumbling and act like a gentleman ! ”

once again you found yourself staring at the floor feeling utterly embarrassed for the older man . you brushed off his comment , wishing tommy was back down stairs so you could at least have someone to talk . you figured hoyt wouldn’t be that much fun , and luda was mostly minding the stew . and if hoyt was giving you the stink eye and then you could only imagine monty would be too if he was rolled in . 

“ y/n , how about you help me out and get that spice for me off the shelf over there . ” oh thank god . you got up with a polite ‘ yes ma’am ’ , moving to grab the container she said and offering it to her . she added it to the stew and hummed , picking up some of the veggies and meat on the spoon and offering it to you , “ now tell me what you think , an’ no lyin’ i want your honest answer . ”

you blew on the offered spoon softly before putting it to your lifts . a soft ‘ mmm ’ left you as you chewed and swallowed . with one hand on your hip , you looked between luda and her stew , contemplating the flavors . “ it’s good . could use another dash of that seasoning you got there and some more black pepper and it’d be even better . ”

luda gave a smile and patted your arm gently . “ that’s what i like to hear . i’ll add to it and then supper’ll be ready . you go on and sit down , thank you darlin’ . i’m happy at least someone in this house gives me feed back about my cookin’ instead of being ungrateful . ”

you couldn’t help the twitch at your lips as you moved to the table , stopping when you saw tommy in the door way , eyes on you and an expression you couldn’t place on his masked features . “ hey , tommy . were are you sittin’ ? ”

thomas had came down as momma had been chewing out hoyt the second time , standing in the door way to watch hoyt huff and puff and cross his arms . but the old man didn’t have his attention for long before he was looking at you . he wanted to walk over , to sit next to you , maybe you would talk more to him .

but before he could move his momma was calling you over . and he couldn’t help but feel like he was dreaming . it felt so right watching you . the way you brought momma her spice jar , the way momma offered you a taste and you took it , mulling over the flavors before giving your two cents . it was so domestic . and thomas couldn’t stop himself from seeing you standing over a stove , calling him over to taste your cooking , a smile meant only for him on your face .

he was brought out of his fantasy by you calling out to him . the fondness on his face still there as you spoke . half in a haze , still so affected by seeing you in his shirt , seeing you be so casual with his family , he grunted and nodded towards the seat next to you . you laughed , and his chest clenched so painfully sweet in his chest . “ looks like i’ll be sitting next to good company . ” your smile sent butterflies swarming through his stomach . and he felt weightless as he moved closer to take his seat . 

“ hoyt , go on and get monty , dinner’s ready . ”

hoyt huffed at he got up , shooting you a glare only to get one shot back from tommy . mumbling about wasting food on meat under his breath . 

“ i can help make everyone’s bowls , miss luda mae . you can go sit down . you might be made of tough stuff , but you need rest too . besides , i don’t mind . it’s the least i can do for y’all helping me out and inviting me over . ”

“ well ain’t you a little sugar plum . alright darlin’ i’ll go sit . ain’t they just a little homemaker , tommy ? ” you laughed at that , glancing over your shoulder as you started to pour stew into each bowl . you shot a wink to luda , being playful and silly .

“ well that’s what i was raised to be . gotta show off my only skills somehow . ” you laughed as you turned back to your task .

luda gave a smug look at thomas , shoulders back and chest puffed out in smug pride . she knew what her son was thinking , and thomas wanted to hide his face in his hands at the embarrassment . you saying something like that make tommy’s heart jolt . a little homemaker . . . would you . . . could you ever be his ? he shook his head , huffing to himself and glaring at the table . he didn’t want to risk looking up at luda , knowing damn well his momma was more than up to something and probably looking like a cat who stole milk . 

hoyt rolled monty in as you started serving food . starting with luda , then going to hoy and monty , finishing with tommy and yourself . you counted your blessings that you were sat between tommy and luda . and when they offered their hands for the dinner time prayer you took them without issue . and you could have sworn you felt tommy’s hand twitch as he held yours . 

"we were hungry and he gave us meat. thirsty and he gave us drink. amen . ”

hoyt’s prayer was short and to the point , and the table all mummered their own amen . the rest of the dinner went well , light conversation , mostly with smiles tossed tommy’s way when hoyt said something harsh or monty made a rude comment , he looked exhausted by them and kept sassing them with a single glare . and luda kept you entertained by asking you questions about your life , your family , your hobbies . everything seemed to meet approval , the old woman happy with how nice it was to have a kind house guest for once . 

“ well now , that was a good dinner . it always tastes better when you’ve got good company . ” luda mae was smiling , giving your arm a small squeeze . you could only blush and nod , eyes bright with the fact that you were able to make luda’s evening a little better . she really was a sweet woman . 

with a smile you got up , confusing some of the family for a moment before you started gathering empty bowls and cups from the table . hoyt huffed , making his first kind , well sorta kind , comment about how you at least had some damn manners . luda wanted to fuss but you just turned her words back on her with a goody smile . 

“ none of that now , you cooked , so i’ll clean . it’s the only polite thing to do . so hush up and enjoy your family . ” she laughed , swatting at you with her napkin as your sass . it drew a chuckle from tommy , his eyes soft as he watched you , yet again , act like a little homemaker . in his shirt , in his house , wearing his clothes , taking care of his family’s dishes . that soft look of longing , of want , came over his face . he’d barely just met you , but he could tell he was already starting to get week for you . 

you washed the dishes while humming , not minding the chore at all as the rest of the family talked , not noticing how thomas was gazing at you with such sweet intensity . but luda noticed . as did hoyt and monty . and suddenly thinks clicked in the two older men’s head . they looked to luda , who only gave a pointed look back . 

“ my baby boy deserves some happiness . ain’t my fault they caught his eye . and i ain’t about to let this opportunity pass him up . so y’all best be with me on this . ” her voice was a harsh whisper , unheard by you over the sound of water and clanging dishes . even thomas wasn’t aware of the conversation . instead he’d moved to stand next to you , picking up a clean dishrag and starting to dry as you washed . it was an excuse to be close to you , and he was thankful that you seemed to enjoy his company . 

“ tomorrow mornin’ i’m gonna need you to take monty outside to look at y/n’s truck . said there might be something wrong with the ac . poor thing was red faced and burning up when she came into the store today . you think we might have something to fix it in that old barn or spare parts from those old abandoned trucks out back ? ” 

you turned at that , flustered , “ miss luda , you really don’t have to . mr monty , it’s fine . i can handle a little heat and it’s not that far of a drive to where i’m going , i can take a few hours in that truck - ”

“ oh hush now . ain’t no one can last happy in the texas heat that long while driving . if we got the parts then monty’ll fix it . besides , he’s been getting lazy of late and it’ll be good for him to move around and get to fixin’ somethin’ . ”

you looked between them and hoyt just snickered , “ ain’t no use in gettin’ on momma’s bad side . thought i wouldn’t mind it if you did . ”

“ hush , hoyt . ”

you sighed , running a hand over the back of your neck before letting your shoulders drop . “ yes , ma’am . if you insist . but i don’t wanna just laze about . maybe there’s something i can do to help around the house while mr monty looks at my truck ? ”

“ oh , we’ll figure it out . for now just finish up those dishes and tommy’ll show you where you’ll be sleepin’ tonight . 

there’s a smile , a ‘ yes , ma’am ’ given and you return to task . it’s finsihed fairly quickly , thomas looking down and then nodding his head towards the stairs , guiding you to the second floor .

as you leave the room , luda mae turns serious as she looks at her eldest and her brother . “ make sure that truck can’t be driven off this property . do what you need to , but i don’t want her leavin’ . thomas likes them well enough already , and they’re good company . and look , they even went out their way to do dishes and is offering to help ‘round the house . you understand me . and don’t you go tryin’ to chase them off . thomas deserves someone nice , and i could use a helpin’ had around here with chores . ”

hoyt and monty look to each other and then back at luda . hoyt , even as cranky as he is , knows that momma’s word is law . even if he plays himself as man of the house . “ alright momma . you get to keep em . but when they see what we do and tuck tail and run - ”

“ they won’t . not until they need to know . ”

monty huffs , not wanting to go out in the hot sun , even if it is to tear up and mess with a truck . thought he has to admit . . . maybe doing that wouldn’t be so bad . it’s been a good while since he had his hands coated in grease . he nodded . “ fine , as long as i get the next pretty thing . ain’t fair none when hoyt get’s to tie up the pretty - ”

“ it’s settled then . and monty , you watch that mouth of yours . aint want them to hear nothing vulgar out your mouth . ”

meanwhile , you followed tommy upstairs , completely unaware of that you were about to become more than a guest of the hewitt family .

[slashersins-abandoned]

how you met thomas

part six . 

part one . part two . part three . part four . part five .

“ are you sure you don’t need help with anything , miss luda mae ? ”

“ oh now hush , you’re our guest . you just sit there and look pretty . i was worried that ol’ shirt of tommy’s might of swallowed you up , but you made it look nice . ”

you laughed , rubbing the back of your head and beaming as luda stood over a hot stove , making some sort of stew . hoyt was there , arms crossed and glaring at you . the feeling of his eyes burning holes into the back of your head making you a bit uncomfortable . but you guess anyone who just got chewed out by their momma in front of a stranger would feel like glaring .

“ made ya look damn good enough to eat . ” hoyt spat out with venom . luda turned , giving her son a pointed and harsh look .

“ now listen here . you’re gonna mind your manners or you’ll go bed hungry . i ain’t gonna have no disrespect in this house . quick your grumbling and act like a gentleman ! ”

once again you found yourself staring at the floor feeling utterly embarrassed for the older man . you brushed off his comment , wishing tommy was back down stairs so you could at least have someone to talk . you figured hoyt wouldn’t be that much fun , and luda was mostly minding the stew . and if hoyt was giving you the stink eye and then you could only imagine monty would be too if he was rolled in .

“ y/n , how about you help me out and get that spice for me off the shelf over there . ” oh thank god . you got up with a polite ‘ yes ma’am ’ , moving to grab the container she said and offering it to her . she added it to the stew and hummed , picking up some of the veggies and meat on the spoon and offering it to you , “ now tell me what you think , an’ no lyin’ i want your honest answer . ”

you blew on the offered spoon softly before putting it to your lifts . a soft ‘ mmm ’ left you as you chewed and swallowed . with one hand on your hip , you looked between luda and her stew , contemplating the flavors . “ it’s good . could use another dash of that seasoning you got there and some more black pepper and it’d be even better . ”

luda gave a smile and patted your arm gently . “ that’s what i like to hear . i’ll add to it and then supper’ll be ready . you go on and sit down , thank you darlin’ . i’m happy at least someone in this house gives me feed back about my cookin’ instead of being ungrateful . ”

you couldn’t help the twitch at your lips as you moved to the table , stopping when you saw tommy in the door way , eyes on you and an expression you couldn’t place on his masked features . “ hey , tommy . were are you sittin’ ? ”

thomas had came down as momma had been chewing out hoyt the second time , standing in the door way to watch hoyt huff and puff and cross his arms . but the old man didn’t have his attention for long before he was looking at you . he wanted to walk over , to sit next to you , maybe you would talk more to him .

but before he could move his momma was calling you over . and he couldn’t help but feel like he was dreaming . it felt so right watching you . the way you brought momma her spice jar , the way momma offered you a taste and you took it , mulling over the flavors before giving your two cents . it was so domestic . and thomas couldn’t stop himself from seeing you standing over a stove , calling him over to taste your cooking , a smile meant only for him on your face .

he was brought out of his fantasy by you calling out to him . the fondness on his face still there as you spoke . half in a haze , still so affected by seeing you in his shirt , seeing you be so casual with his family , he grunted and nodded towards the seat next to you . you laughed , and his chest clenched so painfully sweet in his chest . “ looks like i’ll be sitting next to good company . ” your smile sent butterflies swarming through his stomach . and he felt weightless as he moved closer to take his seat .

“ hoyt , go on and get monty , dinner’s ready . ”

hoyt huffed at he got up , shooting you a glare only to get one shot back from tommy . mumbling about wasting food on meat under his breath .

“ i can help make everyone’s bowls , miss luda mae . you can go sit down . you might be made of tough stuff , but you need rest too . besides , i don’t mind . it’s the least i can do for y’all helping me out and inviting me over . ”

“ well ain’t you a little sugar plum . alright darlin’ i’ll go sit . ain’t they just a little homemaker , tommy ? ” you laughed at that , glancing over your shoulder as you started to pour stew into each bowl . you shot a wink to luda , being playful and silly .

“ well that’s what i was raised to be . gotta show off my only skills somehow . ” you laughed as you turned back to your task .

luda gave a smug look at thomas , shoulders back and chest puffed out in smug pride . she knew what her son was thinking , and thomas wanted to hide his face in his hands at the embarrassment . you saying something like that make tommy’s heart jolt . a little homemaker … would you … could you ever be his ? he shook his head , huffing to himself and glaring at the table . he didn’t want to risk looking up at luda , knowing damn well his momma was more than up to something and probably looking like a cat who stole milk .

hoyt rolled monty in as you started serving food . starting with luda , then going to hoy and monty , finishing with tommy and yourself . you counted your blessings that you were sat between tommy and luda . and when they offered their hands for the dinner time prayer you took them without issue . and you could have sworn you felt tommy’s hand twitch as he held yours .

“we were hungry and he gave us meat. thirsty and he gave us drink. amen . ”

hoyt’s prayer was short and to the point , and the table all mummered their own amen . the rest of the dinner went well , light conversation , mostly with smiles tossed tommy’s way when hoyt said something harsh or monty made a rude comment , he looked exhausted by them and kept sassing them with a single glare . and luda kept you entertained by asking you questions about your life , your family , your hobbies . everything seemed to meet approval , the old woman happy with how nice it was to have a kind house guest for once .

“ well now , that was a good dinner . it always tastes better when you’ve got good company . ” luda mae was smiling , giving your arm a small squeeze . you could only blush and nod , eyes bright with the fact that you were able to make luda’s evening a little better . she really was a sweet woman .

with a smile you got up , confusing some of the family for a moment before you started gathering empty bowls and cups from the table . hoyt huffed , making his first kind , well sorta kind , comment about how you at least had some damn manners . luda wanted to fuss but you just turned her words back on her with a goody smile .

“ none of that now , you cooked , so i’ll clean . it’s the only polite thing to do . so hush up and enjoy your family . ” she laughed , swatting at you with her napkin as your sass . it drew a chuckle from tommy , his eyes soft as he watched you , yet again , act like a little homemaker . in his shirt , in his house , wearing his clothes , taking care of his family’s dishes . that soft look of longing , of want , came over his face . he’d barely just met you , but he could tell he was already starting to get week for you .

you washed the dishes while humming , not minding the chore at all as the rest of the family talked , not noticing how thomas was gazing at you with such sweet intensity . but luda noticed . as did hoyt and monty . and suddenly thinks clicked in the two older men’s head . they looked to luda , who only gave a pointed look back .

“ my baby boy deserves some happiness . ain’t my fault they caught his eye . and i ain’t about to let this opportunity pass him up . so y’all best be with me on this . ” her voice was a harsh whisper , unheard by you over the sound of water and clanging dishes . even thomas wasn’t aware of the conversation . instead he’d moved to stand next to you , picking up a clean dishrag and starting to dry as you washed . it was an excuse to be close to you , and he was thankful that you seemed to enjoy his company .

“ tomorrow mornin’ i’m gonna need you to take monty outside to look at y/n’s truck . said there might be something wrong with the ac . poor thing was red faced and burning up when she came into the store today . you think we might have something to fix it in that old barn or spare parts from those old abandoned trucks out back ? ”

you turned at that , flustered , “ miss luda , you really don’t have to . mr monty , it’s fine . i can handle a little heat and it’s not that far of a drive to where i’m going , i can take a few hours in that truck - ”

“ oh hush now . ain’t no one can last happy in the texas heat that long while driving . if we got the parts then monty’ll fix it . besides , he’s been getting lazy of late and it’ll be good for him to move around and get to fixin’ somethin’ . ”

you looked between them and hoyt just snickered , “ ain’t no use in gettin’ on momma’s bad side . thought i wouldn’t mind it if you did . ”

“ hush , hoyt . ”

you sighed , running a hand over the back of your neck before letting your shoulders drop . “ yes , ma’am . if you insist . but i don’t wanna just laze about . maybe there’s something i can do to help around the house while mr monty looks at my truck ? ”

“ oh , we’ll figure it out . for now just finish up those dishes and tommy’ll show you where you’ll be sleepin’ tonight .

there’s a smile , a ‘ yes , ma’am ’ given and you return to task . it’s finsihed fairly quickly , thomas looking down and then nodding his head towards the stairs , guiding you to the second floor .

as you leave the room , luda mae turns serious as she looks at her eldest and her brother . “ make sure that truck can’t be driven off this property . do what you need to , but i don’t want her leavin’ . thomas likes them well enough already , and they’re good company . and look , they even went out their way to do dishes and is offering to help ‘round the house . you understand me . and don’t you go tryin’ to chase them off . thomas deserves someone nice , and i could use a helpin’ had around here with chores . ”

hoyt and monty look to each other and then back at luda . hoyt , even as cranky as he is , knows that momma’s word is law . even if he plays himself as man of the house . “ alright momma . you get to keep em . but when they see what we do and tuck tail and run - ”

“ they won’t . not until they need to know . ”

monty huffs , not wanting to go out in the hot sun , even if it is to tear up and mess with a truck . thought he has to admit … maybe doing that wouldn’t be so bad . it’s been a good while since he had his hands coated in grease . he nodded . “ fine , as long as i get the next pretty thing . ain’t fair none when hoyt get’s to tie up the pretty - ”

“ it’s settled then . and monty , you watch that mouth of yours . aint want them to hear nothing vulgar out your mouth . ”

meanwhile , you followed tommy upstairs , completely unaware of that you were about to become more than a guest of the hewitt family .

[kitkatd7]

Christmas Party

Summary: You’re having a great Christmas eve… until you aren’t. You’re being bullied and Loki isn’t having any of it.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Angst! self-consciousness, bullying/belittling, cursing, fluff ending

Requests: 

Requested by @myraiswack: Hello love, congrats again on 500!!! Could I request a prompt thing for Loki with 4. “Leave me alone” angst prompt but then a fluffy end with 9. “Hold me” (so kinda a hurt & comfort thing? Idk you can do whatever😁💕) Thank you so much 😘

Requested by @cap-n-stuff: Hi! Can I get an angst to fluff with Loki?? Thanks! 

Prompts: “You have to kiss me if we’re under the mistletoe.” (Season of Fiction Writing Challenge)

Word Count: 1482

A/N: This is for @star-spangled-beard-burn Season of Fiction Writing Challenge!! Congratulations again, and I hope you enjoy it! Beta read by the beautiful @rhemasky and the ever wonderful @cap-n-stuff thanks lovelies <3

Prompts will be in bold (Poem is not mine and I take no credit for it, I’m borrowing it from google) 

----------------------

You’re at Tony’s Christmas party with your boyfriend, Loki, and everything is perfect. The food is amazing, all of your friends are present, and you’re all watching Tony, who’s drunk, and singing Deck the Halls with the wrong lyrics. And to top it all off- You feel beautiful for the first time in a long time. Not that Loki didn’t tell you every chance he had how gorgeous you were- but having someone tell you and feeling it are two very different things. But tonight- Tonight is different. You look gorgeous; you feel gorgeous. A dark green dress hugs your skin delicately, accenting your curves. The golden sparkles that start at the top gently cascade down the strapless dress, thinning out until they disappear just before the hem of your skirt. Your hair twisted back into soft waves, held by golden pins. The necklace you never take off you rests at the hollow of your throat; An elegant gold star with small white gems. It was a present from Loki, gifted along with a poem: 

I want to invite you for a walk

To a quiet place; in the moor. 

When the breeze sings serenades, 

One of those nights-

The moon is full.

A restless pounding invades my heart

When I think of my confidants-

The stars.

If only they could speak,

What would they say?

If you could hear them speak,

For they know my fondness for you

And that in my thoughts,

There is no other one.

If only the stars could speak

They will tell you that I love you.

They would ask you, 

To love me back.

That was how he told you he loved you. The memory wraps around you in a warm haze as you smile up at Loki. His grip tightens around your waist as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, and you sigh contentedly. 

“Do you want champagne, love?”

You hum a yes, watching as his dark, deliciously clad form disappears into the crowd.

You roll your eyes upon hearing a high pitched voice call your name. You turn, coming face to face with one of Tony’s countless guests. Lord knows how she got an invite. 

“Aren’t you Loki’s ex-girlfriend?” She asks, not waiting for a reply as her friends shoot you a pitiful look. “That is so sad! I can’t believe it. Everyone thought you guys would work out- But can you really blame him for breaking up with you?” She snarks, tone shifting as she eyes you demeaningly. 

“What? No, we didn’t break-”

“I mean, sure, you’re sort of cute, in your own way. But honestly, you're not good enough for him anyway. It’s probably for the best. You’ve got too many… How can I put this lightly?” She pauses thoughtfully, her hand under her chin in fake contemplation. “...Imperfections.” She finally says maliciously as her friends nod in faux sympathy. 

“Also, you’re obviously way too clingy- Guys don’t like that.” She hums, shaking her head disapprovingly. “Loki needs a more confident girl. Prettier. Thinner. Someone like- well, someone like me, I suppose,” she says casually, eyes glinting assertively. 

All the air is pushed from your lungs as you choke back sobs.

Loki’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you whirl away from a group of women and push your way aimlessly through the crowd. He grabs your arm lightly as you turn to face him, looking up at him with tears in your eyes.

“My love, what’s wrong?” He asks, cupping your face gently when you shake your head and try to step away. He whispers your name, his eyes clouding in confusion. “Tell me what they said,” he prompts you gently. Blinking back fresh tears, you pull away. “Leave me alone,” you whisper hoarsely before rushing out, vanishing in the mass of bodies.

He looks around for the source of your pain, his eyes scanning the crowd so intently he doesn’t notice Thor come up beside him. “Are you alright, brother? You look tense.”

“I’m fine. It’s Y/N. Someone upset her greatly, and I think it only fair I return the favor,” Loki growled, striding across the floor with purpose, his eyes glinting. 

Stalking up to her, Loki glares daggers, his words dripping with venom. “I don’t know what exactly you said to Y/N, but I know the general context- If you think for even a moment that you are worth more than she is, you are desperately wrong. She’s the most beautiful, intelligent, gentle person I’ve ever met, and to call her anything less than that is simply your resentment overtaking the little sense you have. She is worth more than you could possibly imagine, and she deserves for you to treat her with more respect than anyone here. The only reason you aren’t begging for your life right now is because of her and the restraint she taught me. Consider yourselves lucky we didn’t meet a year ago. Now. Get. Out,” Loki snarls, eyes flashing with barely contained rage. 

----------------------------

Some minutes later, Loki opens the door to your room softly, slipping inside to find you perched on the edge of the bed, smudged mascara and drying tears mixing on your cheeks. Your dress in a forgotten heap on the floor, replaced with sweatpants and a hoodie that you never gave back to him. He crouches in between your thighs, his hands resting gently on your legs. All his quick wit evades him, and he finds himself unable to conjure the perfect words to ease your pain. “I’m sorry.” 

You burst into fresh tears, burying your head into his shoulder, and all he can do is hold you as you try to find the words. “She’s right, you know?” You murmur, sitting up as a mirthless laugh passing through your lips as Loki looks at you in confusion.

“What was she right about, darling?”

“That I’m not like her. I can never be like her- I’ll never look like her, or sound like her, or act like her. I can never be that perfect. She was right about everything. She was right that I’ll never be good enough for anyone. But I’ll especially never be good enough for you-”

Your sentence cuts off as Loki’s lips capture yours, his hands cup your face as he kisses you with such a confident passion that it leaves you breathless when he pulls away. Resting his forehead against yours, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Don’t ever say that you aren’t good enough for me again. It is I who isn’t worthy of you, my love.  But she’s right-” He starts as you look at him in shock. “-That you aren’t like her... And that’s why I love you.” He huffs lightly to himself, brushing the back of his hand against the soft skin of your cheek while gazing at you like you hung the moon in the sky. “I don’t want you to be like her. I don’t want you to try to look or sound or act any differently than you are- Because as soon as you try to be someone else, you lose yourself. Darling, perfect is not a real thing. Perfect is a mask, an image of what someone else wants you to be. To be perfect is to be fake and to let go of every ounce of life in your being. I love you exactly the way you are, and always will.”

You stare at Loki in complete surprise, your lips parted slightly, at a loss for words.

He kisses you again with a dominating sweetness that you’ve never felt before. His lips are fierce and compelling against your own as you lean into him, all of the pain you felt slipping away into memory at the caring touch and soothing presence of your lover. 

“Hold me.” It comes out a breathless plea against his lips as he gathers you in his arms and moves you both to the headboard. 

You snuggle into him, your head on his chest and his arms securely around you. Anchoring you. “This isn’t exactly how I imagined us spending Christmas.” You hum tiredly against his skin in agreement. 

Before you can slip into sleep, you hear him murmur your name. Your eyebrows furrow at the soft expression on his face and the light dancing in his eyes. “You have to kiss me if we’re under the mistletoe,” he whispers. 

“Loki, there isn’t any-” You huff before following his gaze to the ceiling where there is, in fact, mistletoe. “That’s cheating.” you chuckle, leaning closer instinctively, eyes flicking between his and his lips. 

“Mm, perhaps. But if I get a kiss from you then it’s worth it.” He charms, lips curving into a warm smile. 

You sigh, into the kiss in pleasure and exhaustion before nestling back into his side. Maybe this isn’t a terrible way to spend Christmas.

-----------------------------

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[angrylizardjacket]

dirtbags // 5: Charlotte

Summary: High School AU. 1985. Winter. Charlotte and Razzle are officially not dating, while Lola’s not dating someone but won’t say who, though she’s contemplating sleeping with Tommy in an effort to get him to stop pining for her, which Charlotte thinks is a terrible idea. Except that Charlotte lets slip to Tommy that that’s Lola’s plan, and he doesn’t take it well. The whole pack ends up at the Drive-In, which is going great for Charlotte and Razzle right up until Nikki decides to be an ass, and Charlotte realises that Tommy has spoken to Lola about their fight. It looks like things will be getting worse before they get better.

A/N: 6655 words. long overdue sorry!! @misscharlottelee and @evaangelics my beloveds this is, as always, for you both. ft. asofterworld quotes

my sister and i both hate antique shopping. but we love hating things together.

So yes, technically Charlotte and Razzle spent the better part of Heather’s party in a dark corner being altogether gross, as an incredibly drunk Peach had informed them both before she was pulled away by a far more sober Vince, which Charlotte hadn’t thought much of at the time, herself more than a little tipsy, but hearing Eileen rant in the diner the following day had made her feel a little guilty for not paying more attention. Not that anything bad happened, but still, she felt partially responsible for the young ginger girl. 

But the point is that Charlotte and Razzle are not dating, despite what everyone in their weird and ragtag bunch of lunchtime delinquents likes to imply. If Charlotte could justify punching Nikki again, she absolutely would. It’s not her fault that Razzle’s interesting and kind and honest and funny, and if she finds herself feeling a little heady, a little good-nauseous, like she had back when she and Duff had first been dancing around the idea of being a couple, she pushes those feelings to the back of her mind and distracts herself with something, anything else. 

Right now, she’s got a terrible headache and is having a whisper argument with Lola in the middle of art, trying to talk her out of pity-fucking Tommy.

“You make it sound so crass and heartless,” Lola’s lip curled, frowning at the red pencil in her hand and the cartoon drawing of a flower in her notes, “pity-fucking,” the word sounds wrong on Lola’s lips, tone derisive, “you say it like I don’t care about him.”

“Don’t pity-fuck my cousin, you can both do better,” Charlotte rubs at her temples, eyes closed, as Lola makes a noise like she’s not too sure if that’s a compliment, “a few weeks ago, you promised me you were just friends -”

“He’s a hopeless romantic who keeps hearing about cheerleaders sleeping with people who aren’t him, lemme put him out of his misery -”

“By fucking him? What if he catches further feelings for you?”

“I dunno, I’ll kill him?” Lola suggests flippantly, and when Charlotte cracks her eyes open to level a glare at Lola, the dark haired girl is grinning, clearly joking.

“Why Tommy? Why can’t you sleep with someone less related to me?” Charlotte hisses, tone vaguely annoyed and desperate, “I thought you were getting laid? What’s up with you and Nikki anyways?” There’s a shift in her tone, and Lola makes a face, pressing a little harder with her pencil. 

“I am sleeping with someone less related to you,” Lola says, though there’s a strangely guarded quality to her voice, “not Nikki, for the record; he’s the one who suggested I sleep with Tommy to begin with. He’s too much of a bitch to fuck me himself,” she mutters, mostly to herself, a little wrinkle creasing the bridge of her nose as she thinks about it. 

“Wait, you’re seeing someone? For real? And it’s not Nikki?” Charlotte’s expression lit up, and Lola gave her a calculating looking out of the corner of her eye.

“I bet we both know another person I’m not sleeping with,” and Lola’s tone is mean and a little venomous as she deftly changes the subject, “how is our favourite exchange student, by the way?” Charlotte realises too late that her excited questioning of Lola’s private life may have touched a nerve. For all that Lola’s become more open in the few months they’ve been friends, there were strange lines Charlotte kept finding. Lola never really acted as though she cared much about Charlotte and Razzle’s vague status, so to use it against Charlotte was a surprise, and a clear giveaway that one of those lines had been crossed. It got Lola’s message across well enough, and Charlotte’s mouth snapped closed. 

Lola was a terrible distraction when she wanted to be.

“Lola’s not seeing anyone,” Nikki says flatly around his cigarette, and when Charlotte realises she’s gossiping with Nikki Sixx, she wonders idly where her life went wrong, “she’s fucking someone,” he corrected, “and she refuses to tell me who, but she’s not seeing anyone.” He sounds far more annoyed than Charlotte had anticipated, and she can’t help herself. She tugs on that string.

“Wait, so it’s actually not you?” 

“Lola’s dad is built like He-Man, Master of the Fucking Universe, have you seen him, Charlie? I couldn’t stick it in his daughter and bring myself to look him in the eye every other day; and I’m past worrying if he’s gonna toss me into space like he’s an Olympic hammer thrower,” Nikki considers for a moment, before heaving a sigh, “I just don’t wanna disappoint him.”

“You think fucking Lola’s gonna disappoint her dad?” Charlotte’s brow wrinkled with slight confusion, “why do you even talk to her dad every other day?”

“We work together?” Nikki says, like it’s the simplest answer in the world, and oh, suddenly Charlotte knows exactly why the back of the fry cook in Leo’s looked so familiar. Nikki can obviously read it on her face as the realisation, the full understanding of the situation dawns on Charlotte, but it still doesn’t stop her from bursting out with laughter.

“Oh dude, you definitely cannot fuck your boss’s daughter, no matter how much you so clearly want to -”

“Hey!” Nikki snapped, “bold words coming from you, Miss Lee; you already made sure Razz has had the full American High School Experience, or are you waiting for Prom to go full cliché about it?”

“Nikki, I’ve already punched you in the face once, so help me -”

“Yeah but now I know what to expect, I’m kinda into it,” Nikki’s grin is all teeth, and he leans across the table, into Charlotte’s space, “do it again, Miss Lee,” he teases, offering up his cheek to her, grinning from ear to ear. Charlotte makes a disgusted noise, leaning back, crossing her arms.

“You disgust me; can you please quit your job so you can fuck Lola?” 

Thankfully, this seems to take the wind out of Nikki’s sails, his expression falling to something irritated as he huffs and drops his gaze, sitting back dejectedly, and pointedly refusing, unable to come with a snide comeback in time to save face. 

“Lola would punch you in the face,” Charlotte pointed out, tone a little smug, and Nikki presses his lips together, trying very hard to keep his expression neutral as a blush creeps up his cheeks. 

“So would that leggy redhead of yours,” he’s quick to change the conversation, “isn’t she in the musical? You know my band’s still looking for a singer -”

“Lemme stop you right there,” Charlotte stops Nikki in his tracks, holding up a single hand for silence, “first of all, the only person Eileen hates more than you is Vince Neil, and she told me personally that she’d rather eat glass than join your band, secondly -”

“You talked about my band with her?” There’s something a little bashful in Nikki’s voice, and the blush hasn’t left his cheeks; the whole picture would be endearing if he wasn’t such a colossal asshole.

“Secondly,” Charlotte tries again, “you know her name’s Eileen; everyone knows her name is Eileen, stop calling her my leggy redhead,” she ordered, before taking a deep breath, trying to let her irritation subside, “and thirdly, Lola was the one who asked Eileen to be in your band, Eileen just brought it up to me because she knew Tommy was in it.” Nikki, who had already been pink all over, was steadily turning red, trying to hide it as he made a show of patting down his pockets looking for his cigarettes.

“Lola... uh, she talks about my band? She asked if Eileen wanted to join us?” He’s shooting for casual and missing the mark miserably, much to Charlotte’s delight.

“You’re so in love with her,” she smirks. Nikki scowls at her. The bell rings.

i have found a way to watch video in your head. high definition, with instant replay. it is called having regrets.

When Eileen invites Charlotte to the drive in, and suggests bringing Razzle, she insists it’s not a date, that some of the people from the musical were just getting together to watch the new horror movie, and she thought it would be good for Razzle to experience a proper, drive-in movie. That probably should have set of alarm bells in Charlotte’s mind, since everyone knew that if you take someone to a horror movie at the drive-in, you generally don’t end up actually watching much of the movie. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. 

But Eileen’s adamant, and Charlotte honestly wouldn’t actually mind sneaking off with Razzle at some point, if the opportunity arose, not that she’s admit that. 

“I should ask Lola to go,” Tommy says, tone a little wistful, when, on Thursday, Charlotte tells him her plans for the following evening; alarm bells definitely start ringing. 

They’re in Tommy’s kitchen after school, with his mom at the supermarket, and his dad at work, they’ve got the house to themselves, apart from Tommy’s sister upstairs, monopolising the phone. Charlotte’s sitting on the counter, while Tommy’s staring into the refrigerator, not actually looking at what’s in there, thoughts miles away as he considers his own words.

“Shut that if you’re not going to get anything, and no you shouldn’t,” Charlotte shuts him down immediately, to which Tommy frowns, asking derisively when she became the boss of him, slamming the fridge closed, “I thought you two were just friends,” Charlotte counters with.

“I can ask a friend to the drive-in,” though the way he suddenly can’t meet her gaze betrays him, and he flits over to a cupboard, opening it and staring at the food inside, trying to decide on an afternoon snack, “why are you here, anyways?” At this, Charlotte goes quiet and pensive, looking down at her knees as her heels kick softly against the cupboards below, trying not to think about how her mother keeps leaving college brochures out, with Law, Accounting, and Medicine courses all meticulously highlighted, or how whenever they’re in the same room, she’s treated to passive aggressive questions about whether she’s seen the brochures her parents know she definitely hasn’t touched.

“Am I not allowed to hang out with you?” Charlotte finally surfaces from her thoughts to see that Tommy is waiting for an answer.

“Not if you’re going to be an asshole.”

“If you’re going to daydream about Lola, I’m going to be an asshole,” Charlotte fired back, snarkily, and Tommy narrowed his eyes at her.

“You’ve become kind of a bitch since you started hanging out with Nikki,” he huffs, and Charlotte straightens up where she’s sitting, eyes going wide with disbelief, with slight outrage.

“I’m just fucking sick of hearing you chase after girls who don’t want you! It’s all you ever talk about!”

“Lola wants me! Lola fucking wants me, Charlie!”

“She doesn’t want you, she wants to pity-fuck you so you’ll get off her damn case! Just how naïve are you, Thomas?” Charlotte yells back, and immediately smacks her hand to her mouth, regret written all over her face. Tommy’s expression falls like his heart is breaking. “Tommy -”

“A real, fucking bitch,” there’s a shake in Tommy’s voice that is breaking Charlotte’s heart, and she tries to apologise, but he tells her to go home. 

Yes, she leaves, she shuts the door behind herself, but she can’t bring herself to go home. Her feet carry her while her mind is blank, but when she looks up, she’s pushing open the door to the gas station, seeing Mick Mars look up from his magazine. Before he greets her, she sees the way his eyes search the space around her, roam the empty fuel pumps, as if expecting Tommy to pop out behind her. Then, once he considers himself safe, he puts down his magazine, tilting his head curiously at her, at her dejected demeanour. 

“Charlotte?” She’s actually surprised that he knows her name, and Charlotte hovers in the door, letting in the cold air from outside as she deliberates. Why had she come here of all places? “Are you okay?” The words sound strange, like he’s not used to saying them, not used to showing any sort of care, but she appreciates them nonetheless.

“I was a massive asshole to Tommy,” the words spill from her before she can stop them, and she watches Mick’s expression, can almost see him fight back several sarcastic or congratulatory remarks, suppressing his own well-worn irritation for her cousin, instead, just making a noise in the back of his throat that she can’t quite decipher. Then, he looks out the window, looks to the clock on the wall, and takes his feet off the counter carefully. 

“Do you want a slurpee?” He asks, obviously a little uncertain of how to proceed.

“Not really,” Charlotte admits, and Mick awkwardly looks around, as if to offer something else.

“Do you smoke?” He’s already pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. Charlotte shoves her hands into her coat pockets, shaking her head, looking at the floor, not quite sure where to go from here herself, “do you mind if I smoke?” 

“No,” her voice is small.

They sit on the step by the door outside the gas station, side by side, silent for a few minutes as Mick smokes his cigarette. No cars approach, but they watch some drive by as the sun sinks lower in the sky. 

“I told him Lola doesn’t want him, that she’s just interested in pity-fucking him because she thinks it’d get him off her case,” Charlotte admits, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Mick wince, a sign that what she’d said truly was a dick move. 

“That would’a broken the kid’s heart,” Mick muses around his cigarette, and Charlotte, who’d had her knees curled up to her chest, rests her chin on them, with a quiet ‘I know’. 

“He said I turned into an asshole since I became friends with Nikki Sixx, and then I just managed to prove him right,” she seethes, disappointed in herself more than anything else. 

“That’s your first problem; being friends with Nikki Sixx.”

“That was an accident,” Charlotte tried to defend herself, “and I’ve been friends with Nikki for kind of a while, honestly, but I was just so sick of hearing Tommy moon over girls who don’t even look twice at him, like they hung the stars in the sky -”

“Charlotte,” Mick interrupts her, his voice soft but insistent, and when she finally looks at him, he’s actually frowning at her, hands stilled with another cigarette half-pulled from it’s packet, “that’s not... you know why what you said hurt him, right? You know you could’a said that about any other cheerleader he was into and it would’a rolled right off his back, right?”

Oh. Oh no. Slowly, Charlotte’s expression crumbles as the full weight of her words dawns upon her, her guilt skyrocketing. Face in her hands, she actually wails, and Mick gives a firm pat on the back as a show of support. 

“They’re friends, Mick.”

“I know, Charlotte.”

“God, fuck, he probably thinks that I mean she doesn’t even like him as a friend, Mick!”

“Yeah,” he sighed deeply, giving another pat, “I know, Charlotte.”

“I just... don’t want him to get his heart broken,” she admitted, her only attempt to justify herself, which Mick didn’t accept as a proper answer for a moment.

“He’s sixteen, he’s gotta make his own mistakes, and,” at this he hesitates, lighting up his cigarette and taking a long draft as he deliberated saying his next words, “don’t ever let her know I told you this,” he adds seriously, “but the last thing Lola wants to do is hurt that kid; if anything, she’s hoping hooking up with him will strengthen their friendship, and raise his confidence for when he goes after other girls.” This... is a lot to process.

“How do you even know this?” Charlotte asked, bewildered, and Mick scrunches his face up and takes another long inhale on his cigarette.

“We’re friends,” is what he settles on.

“What?”

“Lola and I... are friends,” he sounds like he doesn’t want to admit it, and visibly cringes as he follows it up with, “she cares about that kid, and speaks very highly of him, and of you, honestly, and maybe the kid’s not as irritating as I had him pegged as. He’s still irritating, but he,” and he audibly groans, hanging his head for a moment, as if disappointed that he’s even saying any of this, “he’s a good friend to Lola.” It’s like the words themselves hurt him to admit, so he changes the topic quickly, “she told me he’s in a band with Sixx, actually,” and his tone is thankfully much less strained as he straightens his posture a little, ignoring Charlotte’s frankly flabbergasted expression, “I’ve been seriously considering joining them.”

“You sing?” Is what Charlotte hears herself say, without really registering it. Mick snorts derisively.

“Fuck no, I play guitar.”

“You sho- you should join them,” Charlotte babbles, trying to make sense of everything that she’d just learned, and now this of all things, but it’s going to take her a while. 

“I should,” he agrees with the barest hint of a smile, once more clapping her on the back. He hesitates before he stands, like he wants to say something else, but instead, he gives an awkward smile and gets to his feet, heading back inside, leaving Charlotte in silence. 

Eileen gives her a lift to school the following morning, seething about how Peach got a part-time job and their parents still aren’t happy. It’s conflicting for the older sister, who hates hearing the derisive way her parents refer to Peach as a ‘burger flipper’, while Peach herself had sneered when Eileen had asked about the job, telling her older sister that she was done grovelling at their parents’ feet just to exist, with an implied ‘unlike you’ which had been so uncharacteristic of the usually kind and upbeat Peach that it had sent Eileen spiralling. It was the third day in a row Eileen had been ranting about it, about how she just wanted to support Peach, but that her whole family appeared to be turning on each other.

Charlotte found herself relating to that particular sentiment far too well.

Half their ragtag bunch of lunchtime misfits is notably absent from their usual lunchtime hang out, so while Charlotte spends the forty minutes picking apart her food like she’s trying to deconstruct it atomically, Razzle sits diligently as Eileen carefully and meticulously braids his hair, while he asks if he needs to bring anything, or wear anything special to the drive in that Friday. Charlotte’s not paying them any attention, just letting her gaze roam distractedly essentially until the bell rings, and Eileen pulls the hairband from her own hair to secure Razzle’s braid, before taking off. 

“Anybody home in that head of yours, Charlie? The bell’s gone,” Razzle’s offering her his hand where he’s standing, and Charlotte finally returns to reality from her blank, concerned mind, wiping the last few crumbs of her sandwich on her jeans picking up her bag with one hand and taking Razzle’s hand with the other. Today he’s chosen to wear a royal purple collared shirt, several sized too big for him, with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into tight, acid-washed jeans littered with naturally-made holes, his backpack on his back, and a black, corduroy jacket slung over one shoulder; with his newly acquired braid, the whole look is quite fetching, quite -

“You look like a prince,” Charlotte feels rather foolish for even saying it, can feel as the blush rises on her cheeks, but Razzle’s beaming as he pulls her to her feet, and doesn’t let go of her hand for a moment. 

“Well then I must be truly lucky to get court a princess like you,” and coming from anyone else, it would have sounded cheesy, or the phrase princess would have been derisive or snide, but he’s sincere, almost painfully so, and Charlotte ducks her head, “not courting,” Razzle corrects quickly, and Charlotte doesn’t think about how her heart sinks at that, despite how they’d talked through this.

“Princess Charlie -” something about the way he says her name always hits her hard, because hearing how it sounds, the reverence with which he says it, the nervousness, she leans in and kisses him quickly, can’t help herself, can’t stop herself. But then she’s leaning back, getting a better grip on her backpack, but - “wait, wait, wait, Charlie, wait -” Razzle, for the barest moment, tightens his grip on her hand, and she’s terrified that she crossed a line, that she’s done something wrong, but she turns back, and he doesn’t seem to be mad or concerned, instead he drops the jacket he’d been holding, gently taking her face in his hands, “can’t spring that on me and get away with it; lemme do it proper.” 

i am going to build a new boyfriend out of garbage and dirty feathers. no one else will touch him. 

 “Did you tell Tommy we were coming here?” Eileen hissed, startling the hell out of Charlotte at the concession stand at the drive-in before the movie began. Charlotte, who had been hovering in line, nervously retucking her nice blouse into her skirt every few minutes, almost jumped out of her skin at her friend’s voice in her ear.

“Yeah, I - why?” Looking around, Charlotte thankfully can’t see Tommy’s shitbox of a car, but it becomes readily apparent the source of Eileen’s frustrations, when she spots a shiny, red sports car parked four cars past where Keanu and his good friend and well known fellow theatre kid Alex Winter were sitting on the hood of Keanu’s car, chatting animatedly with Razzle, who they had been quick to warm to him upon meeting him about twenty minutes ago. 

“Charlie!” The name came out as a frustrated noise from between Eileen’s clenched teeth, her eyes glued to Vince Neil’s ostentatious car, and Charlotte looked down for a moment, before adjusting her skirt again and retucking her shirt as she spoke.

“I didn’t know he’d tell Vince; I haven’t spoken to him since yesterday afternoon,” and she hesitates before adding, “we got into this fight and I’ve been trying to figure out how to apologise but I don’t know how, so it kind of slipped my mind, I didn’t know -”

“We’ll talk about you and Tommy later, I promise, but right now I need you to tell me three convincing arguments as to why I shouldn’t pop one of Vince Neil’s fucking tires.” Eileen’s hatred of Vince is perhaps getting out of hand, Charlotte considers, prying Eileen’s vice-like grip from her upper arm, considering for a moment.

“I know you have no qualms about becoming a felon to protect Peach,” Charlotte says with half a smirk.

“Absolutely none,” Eileen agrees without missing a beat, which was both amusing and heartwarming.

“- but your mom would probably pull you out of public school to enrol you in that strict, girls-only, future-nun-school, Our Lady Of Perpetual Sorrow,” Charlotte’s trying so desperately not to smirk, not to give her amusement away at the concept, “and you can say goodbye to any chance you had of ever making out with your co-star on or off stage.” 

Eileen turns as red as her hair, but at least she takes a moment to calm down, glancing over her shoulder at the three boys who were waiting for them. Keanu looks over for a moment, catching her gaze, waving and grinning from ear to ear, and Charlotte practically cackles as Eileen’s blush deepens. 

“Look, Eileen look,” Charlotte pointed insistently back at the boys, to where Alex had hopped off the hood of Keanu’s car, and was making his way over to the pack of kids Eileen had vaguely gestured to earlier, mentioning that they made up most of the technical theatre department, despite their leather jackets and motorcycles, leaving Razzle and Keanu chattering away, “Alex is going to hang out with the Crew boys, leaving Keanu free to comfort you during the scary movie.”

Eileen takes a deep breath, not even pretending like that wasn’t what she wanted, steeling herself to head back, and ignore Vince Neil’s goddamn car. After a beat, however, she turns to Charlotte, looking altogether stern and collected.

“I know I said you and Razzle could stay in my car, since I’m hanging out with Keanu, but don’t have sex in there -”

“What?!”

“Don’t have sex with Razzle in my car,” Eileen practically ordered, and Charlotte nervously looked to the guy ahead of her in line. He looked back at her, between the two girls, then thankfully stepped up to the counter without a word. 

“I wasn’t planning on it!”

“Well you also weren’t planning on being make out buddies after getting drunk and being the gross PDA couple at Heather’s party,” Eileen sniped back, “listen, I just want Peach to be able to sit in my car without either of your bare asses having touched any of the seats.” 

“I won’t let either of our bare asses touch the seat,” Charlotte agreed, mortified.

“And no stains -”

“Eileen!” Charlotte all but screeches, right as the messages before the movie started playing.

“Eileen, the charming Mister Reeves wants a word with you,” Razzle’s voice joins them just moments before Charlotte’s pretty sure she would have expired from embarrassment, and at the mere mention of Keanu, Eileen relaxes a little. All three of them glance over to Keanu’s car, to see the man himself leaning against his windshield, cigarette idle in one hand as he watches the first of the preview trailers. As much as he makes gestures like he’s about to take a drag, the cigarette never quite makes it to his lips before he extends his arm out beside him again, like he’s going through the motions without really following through. Eileen, as if drawn to him by a spell, practically floats away.

“She’s a strange one,” he says fondly, though Charlotte kindly doesn’t point out the hypocrisy in his words, “Keanu and Alex act like she’s some aloof, inscrutable woman; weren’t sure we were talking about the same woman,” he huffed a laugh, much to Charlotte’s disbelief.

“Eileen... she is an aloof, inscrutable woman, you just happen to live with her arch nemesis, and- you’re- we’re- you know, we’re...” Charlotte gestured between herself and Razzle, flushing, as his smile widened, “and you know, I’m her best friend.”

“Guys, are you buying food or what?” The concierge asks; a tired-looking kid Charlotte recognises from Tommy’s year. She hops forward, ordering food, and waiting for it to be prepared, all while standing by Razzle’s side, his chin on her should as they watch the preview trailers. He’s behind her, warm and solid and grounding, which is exactly what she needs as her cousin’s beat-up excuse of a car screeches into the lot, almost spraying gravel thanks to his sharp turn into the first available space. 

“Oh god, oh fucking hell,” Charlotte breathes, clenching her eyes tightly shut, “if you see a blonde-haired, six-foot stick-insect, who looks like he’d cheat on his girlfriend,” she starts, whole face scrunching with frustration, “and-or Nikki fucking Sixx, well, that would be about right; that feels like how tonight would go,” she lets out a long, frustrated breath, and she feels Razzle lift his chin from her shoulder right as he makes a noise of confusion.

“Tommy just arrived,” she clarified.

“Oh?”

“And we kind of got into an argument yesterday.”

“Oh.”

Charlotte’s name is called and she collects the bucket of popcorn she’d ordered for the pair of them, and Razzle picks up their drinks, heading back to the car as the movie opens. 

“You wanna talk about whatever’s going on with you and that Drummer Boy?” Razzle asks as they’re settling in the back seat together. Charlotte’s detaching the front seat’s headrests with possibly too much vigour, but declines, despite the frustration written all over her face. Razzle keeps a careful hold on the drinks that he’d thought were safe to balance on the centre console as Charlotte foisted herself over the back seat to pull the blankets she’d packed from the trunk. 

“You sure?” Razzle tried again, still with one hand nervously keeping the drinks in place, the other firmly holding their bucket of popcorn out of harm’s way. With a blanket securely bundled in her arms, Charlotte gives him a flat look, that quickly disappears in the face of his genuine concern.

“No, Razz,” she sighed, “I’m just mad at myself for letting this, like, fester, you know? I should have apologised sooner,” she huffs a sigh, unfurling the blanket with far more care now, draping it across both of their laps. 

“You’ve a good heart, Miss Lee,” Razzle assures her, but Charlotte’s face scrunches reflexively at the nickname, having only ever associated it with Nikki Sixx’s dreadful attempts to hit on her.

“Thanks, but please don’t call me that,” Charlotte gives a strained little smile, but Razzle nods and takes it in stride, finally getting himself comfortable and sitting back against the seat, one arm draped across the back, the other holding the popcorn in his lap.

“No worries, Love; I could call you Charlie, but I always thought it sounded a bit weird coming from me,” Razzle is rambling as Charlotte settles against him, tucking herself up close to him, “had a mate back home called Charlie, but short for Charles; absolute cockhead,” he clicks his tongue as Charlotte can’t help but giggle, “I could always keep just calling you Love, but it’s not as personal, you know? And Charlotte... it’s a pretty name, but it would be like if you started calling me Nicholas, be a bit weird, don’t ya think?” He mused, and Charlotte’s eyes drifted from the opening scene of the movie, where a menacing looking knife-glove was being created, to Razzle’s face as he chattered away. 

“I could keep calling you Princess Charlie,” as he says that, he looks to her, and seems a little startled to see her looking back at him, “like the other day,” his voice is softer, eyes wide, roaming her face, as if trying to capture her fond expression in his memory forever.

“You wouldn’t imagine your friend Charlie from back home a tiara?” Charlotte’s voice is amused, as is her expression, and Razzle’s eyes crease in the corners as he smiles; his eyes as so blue, so honest.

“You’d be the only Princess Charlie in my life,” he assures, giving her shoulder a squeeze where his arm is wrapped around her, and Charlotte doesn’t even think about how they’re less than a minute into the movie before she’s kissing him. 

At least it gets her to stop thinking about Tommy. 

Honestly, it gets her to stop thinking about everyone and everything that isn’t Razzle in this car in this moment, which is fine for her, because her life is somehow currently a stupid, complicated mess of people and emotions, and Razzle is nice to her, and a damn good kisser, and gentle, and his hands are warm -

“Miss Lee, does the Declaration of Independence mean nothing to you?” Comes shouted through the wound-up window of the car, startling Charlotte, who’s been in Razzle’s lap with his lips on her neck, so much that she jumped, smacking the back of her head into the roof of the car. Razzle reached out for her, expression concerned and lips kiss-bruised, as Charlotte held her head, wincing. Looking to the window, however, she could see Nikki Sixx pressing his face to the glass, looking altogether unsightly, with Lola a few feet behind him, drawing something in the gravel with the toe of her shoe. 

Assholes!

“I’m gonna kill him,” Charlotte says with deadly calm the moment she understands the situation, though Razzle seems to have anticipated this, and has his hands on her thighs, keeping her secure in his firm grip.

“No,” Razzle says, voice equally as calm, his gaze focused on Charlotte, and not on Nikki who had put his open mouth on the window, puffed out his cheeks, and proceeded to lick the glass. Charlotte scrunches her expression for a moment, internal debate raging between her desire to stay in the car with Razzle, and her need to beat the ever-loving shit out of Nikki Sixx for being a smartass.

“I’m gonna crack the window and inch and tell him to fuck off,” Charlotte says, looking back to Razzle, who was wearing an expression of faint amusement, and his grip became a little less firm. Reaching over, she wound down the window an inch. Immediately, Nikki looked through the gap, cheek still pressed to the window as his gaze darted around the cabin of the car, no longer obscured by the window tint. 

“I’m surprised you know what the Declaration of Independence is,” Charlotte said, tone icy as she moved to sit next to Razzle. 

“Honestly I stole that line from Lola,” Nikki admitted, and upon hearing her name, even faintly, Lola joins them, thankfully not pressing herself to the window, instead standing close to Nikki, her hip by his, hands in her jacket pockets. 

“Were they doing it?” Lola asks far too casually, almost too quiet for Charlotte and Razzle to hear, though they do, and both blush, even as Nikki pulls back, making a face. 

“No,” Charlotte calls back, and Lola’s expression turns smug as she holds out her hand, making a ‘hand it over’ gesture to Nikki, only for him to begrudgingly hand over a five dollar note. 

“Shoulda waited ‘til the end of the movie to ask,” Lola’s grin stretched wider, even as Charlotte tried to splutter a protest, and Razzle had to press his face against her shoulder to muffle his laugh at the whole situation.

“Why are you assholes here?” Charlotte hissed; strangely, Lola’s expression fell, and she stepped back again, adding more to her gravel drawing with her shoe, not looking at the car. 

“We’re at the drive in because I’ve heard this is a good movie,” Nikki goes back to staring at them through the inch crack in the window, “and we’re here-” his tone turns proud while his smile turns sharp as he taps his nail against the glass, “because we’re trying to give Tommy and Heather privacy,” he all but sings. There’s... a lot to unpack there, however before Charlotte can process any of it, Lola grab’s Nikki by the elbow, pulling him away.

“Come on, I didn’t take a night off to talk to people I can see every day, did you bring weed or not?” She insisted, tone frustrated leading him towards the concierge stand. Something about it had Charlotte’s heart sinking, even as Razzle’s still chuckling and confused about what was going on, Charlotte’s heart was sinking. 

Tommy had driven Nikki and Lola - and Heather? What? - to the drive in. Tommy and Lola had almost definitely spoken about the fight Charlotte and Tommy had had, which means Lola almost definitely knew what Charlotte had said. 

“Everything okay, Princess?” Razzle had asked gently, his arm around her once more as Charlotte had buried her face in her hands. 

“My whole life is fucked,” Charlotte muttered, and Razzle pulled her in close to him. Her legs bridge over his thighs, and he’s holding her close with both arms, keeping her warm and secure, and Charlotte takes a moment, then another, then a third, to take comfort. 

She’s going to miss this. Going to miss him. Fuck, she can’t think like that, can’t keep reminding herself of the time limit on their friendship, the reason she’s scared to call it anything more. 

Everything is fucked, but this one moment, how Razzle was holding her close, devoid of it’s context, it was pretty damn great.

a friend will help you move. a best friend will help you move bodies. but if you have to move your best friend's body, you're on your own

Charlotte goes to see Tommy on Saturday morning, but when she gets there, he’s not home. 

“He’s at a movie~ with a girl~!” Athena sings, when Charlotte asks, and Charlotte, confused and concerned, looked to her aunt, Tommy’s mother, who gave a kind smile and nod of confirmation. 

“He was so nervous and excited, spent a long time doing his hair just right,” she giggled fondly, pride in her voice, but Charlotte’s heart was in her throat. Had what she said somehow guilted Lola into dating her cousin? That could only end badly for both of them, oh fuck -

Except when she bursts into Leo’s at eleven, after most of the breakfast diners had vacated, and the lunch rush was still about half an hour away, Lola was standing behind the counter... with Peach? Teaching her how to fold silverware in napkins correctly? 

“Do you know... do know that thing where you fold it into a swan?” Peach asks, giggling, right as one of the other kind-faced staff members approaches Charlotte and asks her how many people she’d like a table for. Lola instinctually looks to the door, and Peach catches on a moment later, and suddenly both girls behind the counter are frowning in Charlotte’s direction. Lola mutters something to Peach that’s too quiet for Charlotte to hear, and the younger redhead immediately takes the silverware they’ve already wrapped, going around and dispensing it amongst each table’s silverware holder. Peach is in uniform. 

“I just...” Charlotte’s voice is soft, while her gaze is locked with Lola’s, brushing past the host who’d greeted her, “I need to talk to Lola.” The host looks over his shoulder at Lola, who looks his way for the barest moment and gives half a shrug. The kid backs off, looking past Charlotte to the street outside to see if anyone else was coming in after her, and upon seeing no-one, he heads back to the counter. 

“Hey Peach,” Charlotte says as the redhead slides past her to get to another table. Peach doesn’t even look at her when she gives a flat greeting in response. 

“How can I help you?” Lola’s painfully sweet customer-service voice hurts more than any sarcastic remark she could have come up with, and it’s eating Charlotte alive to know what Tommy told her, what Lola thinks Charlotte thinks of her to make her act so hostile. The way she’s smiling so widely coupled with her dead-eyed stare is unnerving. 

“Keola!” It comes as a shock when a firm voice comes from the kitchen, and Lola practically jumps from her skin. Looking to the source, Charlotte sees the face of the man she’s only ever seen the back of in the kitchen, taller than anyone else in the restaurant, and he looks like Lola.

“What?” Lola hisses, surprising Charlotte, and the man looks to Charlotte, giving her a warm, friendly smile, before he answers.

“If you need to talk to,” and the man pauses, tipping his head a little as he looks to Charlotte, “Charlie?” And Charlotte, kind of confused and nervous as to how he knows her name, nods in confirmation, “you can take your break, okay? Water, fresh air, outside -” and without waiting for a confirmation, he calls the kid who had greeted Charlotte to come and take Lola’s place at the counter, as Lola begrudgingly grabs a bottle of water from beneath the counter, and storms out from behind the counter, past Charlotte to the door. 

Charlotte, a little terrified, looks to the man, who gives another bright smile.

“Sorry we haven’t properly met, I’m Leo, glad to finally meet you, Charlie,” and immediately everything makes total and complete sense, and Charlotte nervously greets him, and takes off after Lola, who had disappeared down the street. 

[imagine-all-the-imagines]

1. Sam Wilson x Reader - Song prompt “Sunflower - Post Malone" for softbiker’s “25 Things” Writing Challenge. Due August 1, 2020.

Warnings: Rough training session, repressed emotions.

I am sooooo sorry I'm almost a year late for this writing challenge.

You woke up to darkness and an empty bed. There was a rustling sound and you rolled to see what was happening. There in the shadows you saw the figure of a man quietly putting on their clothes.

“Sam? You’re going?” You asked quietly and he gave a jump.

“Hey, I wasn’t trying to wake you up, but Steve just sent me the info for an urgent mission.” Sam explained as he finished getting dressed.

You stuck your lip out in a pout, “But it’s late, do you have to leave right now?”

Sam gave a small nod, looking at you softly, “I know I always come and go, but it’s out of my control. You know we can’t schedule when missions come in.”

You nodded back at him, “I know, but I was having a really nice dream,” you laughed, “Just tell Steve I expect to be reimbursed for loss of cuddles.”

Sam leaned over and kissed your forehead, “I’ll be sure to tell him that. Go back to sleep, Sunflower. I’ll be home before you know it.”

You let out a soft hum and looked up at Sam, “You better be. How long are you going to be gone?”

Sam looked at his phone again for a moment, “Looks like it should be a quick one, if everything goes well, two days tops.”

You nodded at the information, “Good. I’ll see you in two days. Don’t be late.”

You pulled Sam down to kiss him again, and he gave a low groan, “Every time I’m leaving on you, you don’t make it easy.”

You gave a giggle and pushed Sam back up, “Go, don’t make Steve mad at me.”

Same gave you another quick kiss and picked up his go bag before heading out the door.

__________________________________________________________

While Sam was gone, you did your best to stay occupied. Going to the gym for training was the best option. You were able to get your frustration out and you were able to keep yourself in fighting condition.

That’s where life found you four days later, sparring with Wanda, and getting absolutely wrecked. Every move you made; she was countering. And you were taking quite the beating, red tendrils of power shooting out and blasting you back. Luckily, the walls were padded, but it still hurt.

You were already frustrated about the mission going longer than expected. Everyday that Sam was gone was a day that you worried about him. And now you were getting thrown around by Wanda, and she was taunting you about it. She knew your mind was preoccupied and she was taking advantage of it.

You finally got your opportunity to strike, and you lunged at Wanda, dagger drawn. She was able to get a shield up on time, but you kept going at her, striking again and again, letting out all that frustration. You didn’t realize how much frustration you had been holding on to until Wanda yielded, and you fell to the ground, overcome with emotions.

You felt comforting arms wrap around you and heard a soft voice, “Don’t worry Wanda, I’m keeping her in check.”

Wanda replied out of breath, “She was all bad-bad, especially after your mission got extended.”

You felt a hand brush through your hair, and you looked up into the comforting eyes of Sam. Sighing, you let your self lean into him before you looked between Wanda and Sam.

“Alright, I’m calling it quits now, Baby, I’m a wreck,” you said as you squeezed Sam’s hand.

Sam nodded at laughed lightly, “You can crash at my place, Baby you’re a wreck.”

You lightly hit his hand, “Hey! Only I’m allowed to say that!”

Sam laughed again and picked you up. Carrying you off to his room.

__________________________________________________________

You and Sam were able to spend the rest of your day together, lounging in his room.

The peace and tranquility was interrupted when your phone went off and you saw the notification from Steve.

Groaning, you opened the mission details, “Baby, I got to go. Mission time.”

Sam helped you off his bed and started getting his stuff together, “I’ll come with you, in case you need backup.”

You smiled at him, “It’s ok, Love, it doesn’t look like it’ll be too hard. And you just got back from a mission, you need to rest up. Plus, Bucky is coming with me. I’ll be ok.”

Sam grimaced when you mentioned Bucky, they still had a bit of a tense relationship. He watched you while you gathered up your go bag and extra supplies. “Be safe, don’t let Bucky use his old man ruse to get you on his side.”

You laughed, “Babe, that won’t happen, you know I only have eyes for you.”

You leaned down to give Sam a kiss before turning to head out the door.

“Wait! You forgot something!” Sam yelled after you.

You paused and turned around, “Every time I’m walking out, I can hear you telling me to turn around. What did I forget this time?”

Sam gave you a coy smile, “You forgot to give me a kiss, the most important thing!”

You rolled your eyes and went over to Sam, leaning over and giving him a deep kiss, “Make sure you miss me.”

Sam grabbed your wrist lightly, “Already do. Now go kick some ass.”

You gave him a nod and hefted the bag back over your shoulder. As you walked out the door, you felt the nerves creep up in you. Missions always got the better of you at first, but as soon as you got on the jet, the nerves melted away, but something about this one was keeping you on your toes.

__________________________________________________________

You had been in the field for 10 days at this point. The good news was that you had a roof over your head, the bad news was that you were supposed to be home a week ago.

Today, you were chasing a Hydra agent through the dense forests of some European country. You were pushing yourself to the limits trying to catch up to this agent. You were so focused on the person ahead of you that you didn’t notice the tree root sticking out of the ground, but your foot made sure to find it.

You felt yourself tumble to the ground and roll forward a few feet. A strong hand grabbed your arms and yanked you back to your feet without missing a beat.

You looked up to see the harsh eyes of Bucky Barnes glaring at you. As if he couldn’t believe you let yourself trip. It lasted a few seconds then he was off again, following the Hydra Agent. You immediately followed and after chasing for a while, you were able to apprehend the agent and collect all the information that they had on them.

__________________________________________________________

You were back in the hotel, resting before packing everything up and heading home, when you heard Bucky enter the rooms with a huff. He was grumbling to himself as he packed, and you were not in the mood to deal with that at all.

“What the hell is your problem Winter Boy?” You asked, looking at him from your spot on the bed.

“Just can’t believe you fucking tripped in the field. Aren’t you supposed to be the graceful one out of the group?” He spit out at you, venom lacing his words.

“Well, actually, I think Nat is the graceful one.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Whatever Y/N, you’re just lucky I was there. You know, you’ll be left in the dust if you keep that up. You’re just lucky that I stuck by ya.” Bucky said, throwing his clothes into his bag.

You rolled your eyes, not letting yourself get sucked into this argument, “We got the job done, that’s what matters. I’ll train more when I get home.”

Bucky gave you a grunt of approval and finished his packing. When you were both packed, you called for the jet and met them at the pickup sight.

As soon as you were on board, you pulled out your sat phone and dialed Sam’s number. He picked up on the second ring.

“Babe? You ok?” He asked.

“I’m fine, just gone longer than I wanted to be, and the Century Man is getting on my nerves.” You explained, trying to ease his concern.

Sam gave a light laugh, “Wish I could be there for you Babe. But you can do it, you’re the Sunflower, if anyone can make it through, it’s you.”

You smiled, “Thank you, that’s all the hope I needed to get through, sometimes I think your love would be too much, and then you do things like this, and I know that could never be a thing.”

Bucky rolls his eyes across from you and holds out his hand, “If you’re done being gross, I’d like to talk to him, update him on what’s happening, you know, proper procedure.”

You stuck your tongue out at him quickly, “Babe, Bucky wants to talk to you. But don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.”

You handed the phone to Bucky and he gives the mission report before informing Sam of the ETA to the compound. You reach your hand out to get the phone back so you can say your goodbyes to Sam. Bucky looks at you and hits the end button on the phone before handing it back to you.

You glared at Bucky before taking the phone. The brief thought of hitting him crossed your mind, but you thought better, knowing that he would never let you live it down if you did.

__________________________________________________________

When you got back to the compound, you immediately went to debriefing and then straight to Sam’s room, flinging yourself onto the bed and curling into him. You both fell asleep quickly in each other’s arms.

This is where Nat found you when she came to invite you down for a family dinner. As she poked her head in, she couldn’t help but smile as she took in the sight.

Nat went back down to dinner and informed the group that you would not be joining and that if anyone went to interrupt the two of you. She personally would the one to, as she said, “Fuck you up.”

Needless to say, no one bothered you two for the rest of the night.

[into-the-stratosphere]

Champagne Morale

Arthur x Forger Fem Reader

Summary: Going undercover at a charity ball hosted by one of the richest men in the country was hard enough as it was, but Arthur was certain flying solo would draw more attention than he’d like. If only he knew someone who could act well under pressure and improvise at a moment’s notice... like a top-notch forger. He just hopes she’ll say yes last minute.

A/N: Found this absolutely gorgeous picture (I’m still trying to find credit for it 🥺) and thought the guy looked like Arthur and this came from it. Hope you enjoy!

Champagne Morale

Arthur x Forger Fem Reader

Warnings: None besides brief mentions of some drinking.

WC: 2309

Pre-Inception

This wasn’t exactly how she’d planned to spend her Saturday night.

(Y/N) was dressed to the nines in a gown worth more than all the rest of her wardrobe combined, surrounded by the city’s wealth feigning charity. The older couples stalked the ballroom floor in their finest, eyes catching on anything less than spectacular, staring her down, trying to determine which family she belonged to in order to deserve a place on the guest list. They were like vultures on the hunt, scanning for any sign of imperfection. The only comfort she found was her hand tucked into the crevice of Arthur’s arm, leading her from the prying eyes— her “date” for the evening.

He’d been frantic when he asked her to accompany him earlier in the week, barely letting her get her door open before he’d launched into his rehearsed speech; he’d only just found a way to squeeze his name onto the private guest list of their next target’s charity ball that he’d forgotten to account for the plus one attached to it.

“It would look more suspicious if I arrived alone, plus you’re an excellent forger, so we could better cover each other if we started drawing anyone’s attention.”

She leaned on the doorframe, a bemused smile spreading her lips as he continued to list why it would be mutually beneficial for her to accompany him. He could go on for hours and not list the same reason twice, she thought. Ever the vigilant point man. (Y/N) held up a hand, Arthur falling silent at the gesture, holding her gaze.

“If you wanted a date, all you had to do was ask, Arthur,” she said, throwing a wink his way before closing the door. The last thing she caught was his mouth gaping as he stammered, the tips of his ears hinting pink.

She bit her lip to keep the self-satisfied smile off her face from the memory, reveling at how she of all people could get Arthur to crack. Glancing around, she accepted a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, sipping on it a moment before looking towards her companion. He looked dashing, really; his suit was trimmed to perfection, expertly accentuating his slim but fit figure. A black bowtie sat snugly at the base of his throat, albeit a bit off kilter. She stopped him a moment to straighten it, letting her fingers linger a beat on his lapels before smiling up at him. He grinned, a familiar half tilt of his lips before offering his arm to her again. The only thing he hadn’t changed was his hair: slicked back, his signature.

As they paced around the edge of the room, (Y/N)’s eyes darted from face to face. “Which one is he exactly?” She whispered from behind her champagne glass.

Arthur minutely jutted his chin towards a man standing near the temporary stage, surrounded by laughing millionaires. Whether what he had said had actually been funny was only consequence; anything the surrounding gnats could do to earn his favour, they wouldn’t question.

(Y/N)’s eyes fixed on the man over the rim of her glass, studying his mannerisms. He was at least mid fifties, wearing a mild suit that, while designer, didn’t quite suit his loud voice. He slapped the man next to him on the back with a laugh, the poor recipient buckling under his heavy hand. She tilted her head, watching the target hand his plate off to the staggering lackey. Though he grinned at his boss, she could see the pressure building on him as the night went on. There’s the right hand man.

She turned to Arthur, handing him her nearly drained champagne glass, “Darling, would you mind holding this for me a moment? I’ll be right back.” Before he could protest, she was halfway across the room, bee lining for their target.

He pressed his lips together, watching as she slipped into the inner circle of groupies with ease, throwing her head back with laughter at whatever their target had just said. His jaw clenched at the sight of the man turning his attention her way, bringing her hand to his lips in greeting. He gestured around the room, and Arthur swore he felt a blood vessel pop as the man put a hand to the small of (Y/N)’s back, showing her around the stations he’d had arranged for the ball.

He tried distracting himself, finishing what was left in (Y/N)’s champagne glass as he made a mental note to grab her another before she returned. A passing waiter took the empty flute from his hands, leaving Arthur to shove his hands in his pockets, gripping his loaded die with white knuckles as he turned away from the pair now meandering by the reflection pool, a posse of millionaires trailing slowly after them.

As long as she’s having fun. If he clasped his die any tighter it would surely shatter.

Arthur wasn’t left to his sulking for long; (Y/N)’s laughter drifted by his ear a few minutes later, and he turned his head to see his target walking her to where he leant against the wall. The man eyed Arthur up and down, standing straighter before pressing a final kiss to (Y/N)’s knuckles. She looked up at the host through her lashes, a coy smile gracing her features that made Arthur’s heart pang.

I’m not… no, I couldn’t be jealous.

(Y/N) was his friend, had been for years. Are we really only friends though? All his memories with her flashed through his mind in an instant, flushed cheeks and tentative touches. As he watched her bid their host a far too fond farewell, his pulse raced. Is that all we are?

She grinned until the target finally turned away from the pair, letting the disgust fall over her features when she knew his gaze was elsewhere. “I swear to God if he touched me one more time I was going to vomit.”

Arthur could barely restrain his laughter, the target shooting him a glare that he didn’t care to cower from. He wrapped one arm around (Y/N)’s midsection, rubbing soothing circles into the exposed skin as she brooded.

“Am I allowed to spend time with my date now?”

“Come on, you know I did that for the intel. Plus I can learn so many new characters from those snobby wannabes.”

“I’m sure you did.”

He grinned as she threw a weak punch into his chest, minding how she just as quickly drew back into his hold. The little green monster was sated for now. In fact, it certainly didn’t mind when she asked him for a dance, to get the feeling of his hands on me out of my mind, dragging him to the middle of the room where they blended in with the swarm of couples roused by the band.

He took her hand, his other falling to her waist, swaying quickly to the jazzy tune, watching laughter, genuine laughter bubble up her throat. Arthur dipped (Y/N) low, breathless by the way her hair fell from its intricate styling. He grinned at her, pulling her back into his chest, their breaths mingling as the tempo picked up again. For a song, they weren’t two con artists studying a target, two friends pretending to be dates— they were a complementary pair, dancing the night away oblivious to the pompous splendor surrounding them. Anyone who looked at them could tell the chemistry they shared— even the jealous host watching from the sidelines, his arms crossed over his chest.

When the song ended, their chests heaving from exertion, all the room applauded the quintet situated on the temporary stage, bowing to their audience before starting up their next melody. (Y/N) and Arthur drifted away from the dance floor, locking arms as they sought the cool air blowing over the reflection pool.

They strolled around as they talked, glancing over the small tables of finger foods scattered on their way, careful to keep a good deal of distance from the man of the hour who hadn’t stopped shooting Arthur venomous looks since their dance ended. (Y/N) was pointing out a tray full of exotic caviar worth as much food that could feed an entire household for months when Arthur noticed the security on the edge of the room, eyeing the pair with wary expressions.

He watched from his peripheral as one stepped up behind the host on the stage, preparing himself for his speech to thank all the wealthy donors in the room as the band was packing away their instruments. He stalled as the guard whispered in his ear, his gaze latching onto the pair once more with a newfound suspicion.

Arthur cleared his throat, turning (Y/N) away from the stage with a hand on her arm, looking out over the calm waters. “We may have to leave soon.”

Her eyes snapped up to his, masking her surprise with a pleasant expression. He could tell she was listening into the conversations around them, trying to key in to how long they had.

The security detail became more mobile across the room, moving towards the exits of the venue. Arthur swore under his breath, slowing their pace to be equally spaced from the nearest guards. “We’re going to need a diversion.”

“Already on it.”

Arthur didn’t need to question her plan, feeling her weight drop onto his side as she giggled airily— playing drunk, he realized. An older woman nearby scoffed under her breath, something about minding how much one should drink in public, and Arthur shot her an apologetic smile, draping one of (Y/N)’s arms around his shoulders to better support her. One of her heels caught around the hem of her dress, (Y/N) kicking it away in a mock drunken huff, pressing further against Arthur’s body. Were he not so hyper aware of the extra guards appearing from the exits, he would have taken just a second to appreciate the sensation of her warmth bleeding into him, filling his chest until he felt he could float without a dream.

He tilted his head down next to her ear, “Alright, we’re going to need a better distraction to get out of here— maybe a prior engagement we forgot about that we need to get to right away—“

Arthur didn’t need to finish the rest of his plan as (Y/N) deftly swiped a leg from under him, teetering over to the side—

Where the reflection pool lay waiting to catch them.

Gasps shot through the crowd to see the tipsy couple splash into the water, rushing to the pool’s edge to watch the chaos. While the host hastened to the microphone to call for attention and order, the feedback making all the guests cringe under the volume, under the surface Arthur shook his head incredulously at (Y/N), who only shot him a cheeky wink.

The two emerged, beautiful clothes ruined, gasping for air. A handful of guards reached for their hands, pulling them from the water as some waiters went off to fetch some towels. (Y/N) shivered, clinging to Arthur’s arm as she sobbed, apologizing for ruining such a lovely evening meant for charity.

Arthur had to keep from rolling his eyes at the theatrics. Expert forger indeed, there wasn’t a single face without a pitiful turn of the lip, (Y/N)’s performance tugging at her audience’s hearts. If he didn’t know her, he was sure she’d even get a reaction out of him.

She shivered in his arms, stumbling to her feet as her gown clung to her legs. She sniffled, her mascara dripping down her face— whether from the water still dripping from her hair or her expertly crafted tears no one could tell. As a waitress passed along some warm towels, Arthur thanked her and began to move towards the exit, catching the glimmer of mischief in (Y/N)’s eye as they finally passed through the crowd.

As the wealthy elites finally drew back towards the host on the stage, Arthur risked a whisper to his date, “Certainly not what I had in mind, but you definitely got the job done. You know, if you wanted our date to be over, you could have just asked, (Y/N).”

Arthur could only glimpse (Y/N)’s bemused face as she realized what he said before she pushed him towards the pool again, but not before he caught her wrist and dragged her back in with him.

The host sighed on stage to see the happy couple go under once more, smothering the jealousy at having lost quite a catch.

Before (Y/N) could begin to swim for the surface, Arthur pulled her face towards his, grinning as her lips met his eagerly, bubbles dancing around their bodies as they floated a moment, too caught up in one another to care for air or what waited for them when they’d resurface once more.

They finally broke apart, pulling one another to the surface to greedily drink in lungfuls of oxygen. The only crowd to greet them this time was the waitstaff informing them they would have to leave. The two ducked their heads in apology, rushing out the door before anyone else would think to stop them.

When they burst onto the street in front of the lavish venue, wrapped in one another in a desperate attempt to keep warm, (Y/N) turned to Arthur, teeth chattering, “You know, I think I’d prefer we stayed dry on our next date.”

No, she certainly didn’t expect to spend her Saturday night drenched to the bone with a man who’s kisses tasted like champagne and confessions, but she definitely didn’t regret it either.

[exquisitley-obsessed]

I’m Right Here (part 1?)

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: Arthur’s torn up over Mary, and his old friend and fellow gang member y/n drags his pitiful ass on a hunting trip; little do they know, they’re the ones about to be hunted.

Word Count: 3588

Pairings: Arthur Morgan x Reader (some Arthur and Mary angst)

Warnings: Hunting, guns, etc.

A/N: Currently playing RDR2 so please no spoilers <3 Literally took five minutes for me to fall in love with this damn fool and so felt like I needed to write something angsty for him. There’ll probably be a part two to this. (Also this made me seriously realise I cannot spell ‘Arthur’ for the life of me)

REQUESTS OPEN <3

MASTERLIST

“Well he aint in a good mood.”

Abigail was standing near her tent blowing gently on her boiling coffee as she watched Arthur swing into camp, readily jumping off his horse and loosely throwing the reigns towards the hitching post.

“No, he don’t,” Y/n answered. She was sitting with Jack in her lap, watching as Arthur made his way to his tent, cursing venomously under his breath. “I overheard Dutch mention something about Mary being in Valentine - that she wanted to see him.” Y/n shared the gossip with her long-time best friend and fellow gang member.

“Really?” Abigail’s head snapped to y/n as she busied herself with Jack’s excited giggling and blubbering. “She’s got some nerve.”

“Ha!” Y/n chuckled to herself as she bounced Jack about, “You can say that again.”

“It aint a secret that none of us like her,”

“Yeah, someone that even Hosea isn’t a fan of…now that’s an accomplishment.”

“He knows how to pick ‘em,”

“Sure does,” y/n sighed, throwing a glance at Morgan. Watching Arthur and Mary run back and forth to one another was like watching a dog chase its tail – futile, funny and somewhat depressing. With there being such a tight knit in the Van Der Linde gang, Mary had always felt alien and other – like she was a piece that didn’t quite fit in a rather strange and elaborate puzzle. Y/n’s bitterness towards the woman had only grown as she watched Arthur yo-yo between complete euphoria one night to a mild mental break the next; ultimately, it hurt watching him day in and day out tie himself to the train tracks and look with woozy, loving eyes at the incoming train.

“When was the last time you talked to him?” Abigail attempted to ask inconspicuously, dipping her nose into her mug as she took a swig. Y/n eyed her, Abigail had made it somewhat obviously clear she believed there to be something more between Arthur and y/n; y/n couldn’t figure out if she was amused or conflicted.

“Not since before this Blackwater mess…not a proper conversation like we used to have.” Y/n’s attention now back on the bubbling child pulling at her braid.

“Not had the chance?”

“Well, no.” She didn’t look at Abigail, “Everything blew up and…Dutch aint been letting me out on any of missions recently so I can’t talk to him then. Not with how badly things went for me in Blackwater.” Y/n was talking about her bandaged right arm, still pink and puckering from that night. When the pandemonium erupted on the waters, y/n found herself caught in a minor explosion when some TNT barrels were caught in the crossfire. The result was a degree of burns lashed across most of her right arm. Dutch, seeing her like a daughter, reacted in a rather extreme and protective manner – extreme by y/n’s standards at least.

“It’s a goddamn joke you know, I have to prove myself to be twice as better just to be even considered to go on missions. They all treat me like I’m gone break or something – I been shooting longer than most of them too.” Abigail nodded along hazily; the gang was somewhat used to y/n’s frequent outbursts and rants, having never been one much for holding her tongue. However, they couldn’t blame here; it was just a result of her start in life.

“Now’s a good time y/n - go take him hunting or something,” Abigail was still peering at Arthur over her mug.

“Hunting?”

“Yeah, you can get some fresh air, help him clear his head and also bring back something Pearson could turn edible.”

“Dutch aint letting me leave camp right now-”

“Oh, come on! You know he’d let you go if Arthur was with you”

“Abi-”

“Don’t fight me on this y/n. He’s hurting, it’s obvious, you’re the only one he’s ever…you know…” Y/n raised a brow at Abigail who simply looked away; she couldn’t figure out what she hated more, the assumptions or the fact that y/n’s heart twinged slightly at the thought of going hunting with Arthur, it being just like old times.

“Fine,” Y/n huffed scooping Jack up under the arm, “Here’s your son back.” Jack’s chubby little fingers reached out for his momma as his aunt handed him over, “But I’m doing this for you.”

“And Arthur,”

“And Arthur.” Letting out a sigh, y/n made her way over to the closed flaps of Arthur’s tent, picking up her hunting jacket along the way. Pausing, she took a breath, before rapping her knuckles across the wooden frame of his camp. “Arthur it’s me.” A pause, a small rustle from within and then he was there, looking down at y/n with a raised brow.

“Miss y/n,” He tried out the words in his mouth, as if her name was a question in itself, “What you doing here?”

“Oh, so I can’t just come and see Mr Morgan whenever I please…is there a queue I need to join?” She feigned looking around.

“Oh, don’t give me that – you know you aint come knocking on my tent for weeks now.”

“Well Arthur, I don’t know if you remember but there was that whole business of Blackwater that somewhat got in the way of our nightly strolls.” Arthur pulled back a little, his brows knitting as he frowned down at her.

“What’s going on y/n? What you want?”

“You really think every time I come see you I want something…I mean, actually now that you say-”

“Y/n-”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, Morgan! Come on,” She smirked up at him, he shook and lowered his head, his russet hat covering his face leaving only his strong set jaw and bristly beard visible in the candlelight. A grin had melted into his cheeks and y/n couldn’t help but feel a soft flutter in her gut, he was heartbroken over Mary and yet she could still make him to smile. “I was actually letting you know that I’m going hunting, I thought you might wanna join y’know, ride out like old times,”

“Dutch letting you go?” He asked, leaning against the wagon. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh please; Dutch this, Dutch that. Can’t a girl just live?”

“I don’t know y/n, you banged yourself up real good at Blackwater if I remember correctly,” He nodded at her mummified arm.

“I’m fine, besides, it aint my shooting arm,”

“Y/n…” He sighed.

“Come on…fine. If I can convince Dutch to let me go, will you join me? We’ll take the camp and really do it like old times, stay out all night and catch birds as the sun rises.” Arthur gave her a look as if he was on the fence, but that usually already meant he was coming. Y/n didn’t even wait for a response, just smiled real wide and started walking backwards toward Dutch, “Saddle up and meet me by the horses in 10.” Arthur just shook his head and batted her away, disappearing back inside.

Turning around, y/n tiptoed her way past Dutch’s own quarters, peeking in slightly she caught the sight of him in deep discussion with Hosea. Well, there’s no point in disturbing what seems like such an important conversation. Instead, y/n chose to make her way back to Abigail where she could quickly grab a few things before setting off.

“So, you going then?” Abigail grinned up at her, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,”

“Oh good,” Abigail clapped her hands together. Y/n simply rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “You tell Dutch?”

“Um, not quite,”

“What do you mean?” Abigail raised a brow, always the ever-worried mother.

“Come on Abigail, you know Dutch won’t let me out, especially not for a whole night.”

“Course he will, you’re with Arthur,”

“No Abi, I don’t think he will,” Y/n paused her packing and met Abigail’s stare.

“What do you mean?” Her tone was tense.

“Look, Dutch has been treating me real weird since Blackwater, he won’t let me out of his sight. He won’t even let me do watch, no, I stay here in camp where he can see me and do chores. Which would be fine, but we all know that I’m much better out there, in the big wide world.” Y/n returned to packing, “He’s just got spooked from Blackwater a lil and you know how he sees me, he raised me and all.”

“So…what’s your plan?”

“Well…I guess I don’t have one.” Abigail let out a frustrated huff, “Look, don’t be mad! It aint your fault and I can handle Dutch when I get back. I thought tonight I’d focus on Arthur, wasn’t that your plan, come on now Abi.” Abigail simply responded with one of her infamous motherly glares, hands on hips and everything.

“Okay, but it’s getting dark so you best head off now before you loose your way, and y/n…” Bag now packed, y/n was half way out of the tent when she stopped, “Be careful…”

Y/n grinned back.

“Always am.”

 ***

“So, where you wanna go?”

Arthur and y/n had ridden their way out into the fields, far away from any signs of life or civilisation. Free at last. “Since you’re in such a sour mood I’ll let you choose.” Arthur sent her a glare.

“You know, you talking about how sour my mood is…aint making it any less sour.”

“Why are you in a sour mood anyways?” Y/n peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. Their horses had slowed into a rhythmic trot as the flowers and fields passed them by.

“Mary.” It was a gruff, clipped response; but it was enough. Arthur never needed to elaborate on his problems with Mary, it was common knowledge amongst the gang. Hell, it was obvious from day one what was going to eventually happen between the two. “Here, let’s stop here.”

“I’m sorry to hear bout it,” Y/n pulled her horse to a steady stop as they strolled onto a circular ledge, looking out on a cliff drop and the rolling hills that followed, the greenery not stopping until it blurred into the horizon.

“Are you?” Arthur said after a moment, his eyes busy assessing the terrain.

“Arthur,” Y/n snapped to him as if he had hit her, “You know I do.” The two stared at each other, a standoff, then he seemed to soften a little.

“Yeah, yeah I know you do y/n don’t worry. Don’t know what got into me. She’s messing with my head is all.”

“You can say that again,” y/n turned back to her horse, unpacking all the bits and bobs. She began to get a fire going, the crackling flames warming her back as she moved to stand near the ledge, looking out at all the little people and all their little lives.

“Wait stay still a second,” Arthur called out to y/n who of course, didn’t.

“What you doing?” She questioned walking over to him as he fumbled about in his satchel.

“I said stay still woman…almost got it…here.” He pulled out a small, metal box with a look of triumph. “Now,” He instructed holding it up to his face, “Go back to where you were standing.”

“Okay,” Y/n agreed cautiously, walking backwards a few paces, “Here? Wait…you’re not taking a photo of me are you Arthur?”

“What?” He asked, looking up and shrugging his shoulders as if there were no problem.

“Oh Arthur, I don’t want no photos of me taken,”

“Why?”

“Because…” She trailed off. It had been so long since someone had offered to take a photo of her. When it happened, she had venomously refused, spitting out something about keeping her identity secret. But now, looking at Arthur’s innocent smile as he gestured toward the camera, all ideas of protesting against the photo seemed futile. “Oh, all right then, but if I look real bad promise me we’ll burn it on the fire.”

Arthur said nothing, simply smiled wide before holding the camera up to his face once more. Suddenly, she felt incredibly self-conscious of her appearance, her hair was lazily knotted in a braid to keep it away from her face, she was wearing her old work pants and one of John’s old shirts that he had grown out of. She wondered if he thought she was pretty, she wondered if that’s why he wanted a photo of her – she pushed those thoughts away and swallowed. A quick flash, mechanic clunk and it was over.

“Lemme see, lemme see!” Y/n bounded over to Arthur, reaching out for the camera but Arthur swept it out of her grasp holding it high above her head.

“Just wait woman! God…gotta let it develop first then you can see, and then burn it,”

“I was kidding Arthur! You want a photo of me so bad I’ll let you have one – but it’s the only one you getting so you better cherish it.”

“Oh, I will,” He sighed, turning back to the camp and the fire, “I will.” He muttered once more under his breath, his eyes glossy and happy as he carefully rested the camera near his bag.

“Come on, we best settle down,” Y/n sighed, her fingers resting near her gun. The two hunched down together near the edge of the cliff, their feet sloping down with the ground as they watched the last few hours of light spill across the landscape.

“Well if we’re going about this the old way,” Arthur grunted after a moment, before twisting round and grabbing a box from behind him, swinging it around y/n’s eyes widened as she realised what Arthur had snuck off camp.

“Uncle’s secret stash of whiskey,” Y/n stared wide eyed at the crate, “Arthur you didn’t!” She half gasped, half grinned.

“You said it would be just like old times,” He hazily smiled at her, pulling out a bottle and squeezing off the cap. He then looked around, conflicted, “Uh, I didn’t think to grab any cups.”

“Oh, it don’t matter Morgan,” Y/n grinned, grabbing the bottle and taking a swig straight from the lip, “If we’re really doing it like old times, it won’t matter.”

Arthur looked at y/n then, really looked at her. The time of his life when she wasn’t in it had always felt hazy, it had always appeared to him that she had simply just been there, like Hosea and Dutch, even John. Dutch had bundled her home after finding her on the street, she had tried and almost successfully robbed him as he headed back home. She was young, too young to have been living life like that and yet, weren’t they all. He remembered shooting lessons with her John and Dutch as Hosea dipped in and out with scattered pieces and parts of plans.

There had been a time when he was sweet on her. Really sweet on her. They were young, growing up in a wild world where it felt like anything could happen. He never told her, life just seemed to get in the way and, after a while, he just figured she wasn’t into him like that. Maybe there was a part of him that would always be sweet on her, like the way he could never seem to shake away Mary. No, that’s not right. Mary and y/n were different, always had been different and always would be. But then again, what did Arthur Morgan know about love, about women?

“I…have this theory,” She turned to him suddenly, shattering apart his worried thoughts and replacing them with a warm glow.

“Theory? What you doing getting all philosophical on me?” The corner of his eyes crinkled as he grinned back.

“I aint getting philosophical Arthur, it’s just an idea-”

“Okay, okay,” He held up his hands in defence, “What’s this big idea, hm?”

“So…with this Mary business…I think that all she done this past while is talk about how you aint ever gone change, and my theory is that…that aint fair,”

“How come?”

“Because her asking you to give up this life, is exactly like you asking her to give hers; and…I don’t think love should be like that.” The liquor was loosening her tongue, making her slosh a little with her words, “I don’t think you should have to change yourself for love.”

“But aint that the point?” Arthur pondered after a beat, “That love changes you, makes you a better man and what not.” Y/n’s nose crinkled.

“Sure but…there’s a difference between growing with someone compared to changing who you are just so you don’t give them a bad reputation when you walk down the street together,” Arthur reared back a little but ultimately understood there was no malice behind her words, it was just the ugly truth. “I feel like,” She continued, now on a roll, “Mary aint in love with you…or maybe she was at one point but now it’s…I don’t know, hell, the only time I ever met the woman she barely said two words to me.” A soft chuckle, “But…I feel like she’s in love with this version of you, in her head. There’s a reason everyone back at camp, especially the girls, don’t like her Arthur. It’s because she aint like us, she aint ever had to worry about when her next meal gone be or if she’ll get the privilege of sleeping in a bed that night or…”

Arthur’s eyes were steady on the sunset, watching as it swam down over the horizon, disappearing into an inky, spotted night. The sky was surprisingly dull for a sunset, no explosion of colours as the sun sunk lower, no ecstasy of oranges and pinks – just an ever-expanding dull grey hue.

“I don’t like saying it Arthur,” y/n was still going, “Because I know you love her and I know an ounce of love is more than any of us deserve – but please…stop hurting yourself over her, I can’t take it anymore.” Arthur turned his head slightly to the side, peeking at y/n; he wasn’t necessarily upset by what she was saying, just numb to it. I mean, if he didn’t have Mary, then what did he have?

Silence blanketed them as the sun and its warmth slipped over the edge of the world, leaving the cold to creep in from all sides; only battled by the spluttering warmth of the fire. Arthur looked at her, really looked at her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving her y/n.” A pause. He waited for her reaction.

“I know.” She did, and her heart ached for it.

***

The mood and pace picked up from then on. With the world at rest around them, being out in the open night with a crate of whiskey and a wheezing fire – it was enough to feel like they were the only ones who were truly alive. Perhaps, in that moment, they were. Old friends who knew each other better than they knew themselves. A conversation concocted with a mix of reminiscing of the past, laughing about the present, and theorising about the future.

Arthur told y/n that she was going to be married before she knew it. Y/n politely told Arthur that the only instance in which she would ever marry would be for money. Arthur laughed and commented on how it was money that was ruining his relationship, not building it.

They talked about Dutch, about how much they had grown from being scared kids with guns too big for their hands. And all of a sudden, Mary felt a million miles away - Mary didn’t even feel important anymore.

They drank themselves silly, forgetting about the whole point of their little getaway in the first place. Eventually, they curled up against the shrubbery, lying on their backs and looking up at the bottomless sky above them. Not even talking, just enjoying for a moment how the world was spinning underneath them.

***

When Arthur awoke the first thing he noticed was the dryness of his throat. Wincing, he coughed some of the dust out of his lungs as he sat up and then lay back down again, the weight of his head pulling him back.

“God damn.” He grunted – how much had he drank? Still, standing up he shook the dust off him, he knew he had gone through worse, an infamous night with Lenny ringing a bell. The sun was high in the sky meaning that he had slept through all, if not most, of the morning. Sighing he looked around for y/n. And looked again. Something wasn’t right.

She wasn’t there; not curled up next to him, not draped across the sleeping rolls, not near the horses – nowhere. She was gone. An ugly, familiar knot twisted its way into Arthur’s gut. Trying to douse the fire inside of him he calmed himself with the idea that she could have just gone for a walk or pulled through on the hunting after all – but her horse was still there.

“Oh no…no…no.” He choked standing up. He couldn’t lose her, not now. His fears climaxed, his whole world skidding to a stop as he noticed a note made from rich paper taped to the whiskey box.

Arthur Morgan,

You don’t seem to want to talk about Dutch. Maybe your friend will.

-        P

Numb, he went completely numb. But that feeling didn’t compare to when he had eventually stumbled back into camp, the note limb by his side as looked up and saw an irate Dutch waiting for him, his eyes black.

“Where, the hell, is she Morgan?”

next part

[one-piece-but-smitten]

Fearless

Nami × Reader

Tags/TW: Small bit of Sexual Harassment

~~~~~~~

"Oi bartender, hit me with another whiskey."

You managed to croak, your hot cheek resting comfortably against the cold leather of your jacket. It had been a rough night for you. Right now, you were trying to burn it out with the Fireball you kept ordering. The barkeep cocked a brow at you, passing silent judgement before sliding you the glass. You took it up gratefully, sipping at the poison. She glanced at you a few times, unable to hide her curiosity as she finally spoke to you.

"You don't seem like the heavy drinker type. What's your damage?"

She asked. You looked over at her again. She was unbelievably pretty. Long, ginger hair fell far past her shoulders and draped down her back like a fiery waterfall. A mirthless chuckle escaped your mouth before you sipped at the glass again.

"Nothing major, not worth rememberin' anyway."

You replied. The answer doesn't seem to satisfy her, you could tell from the way her hazel eyes lingered on you. She fixed a drink for a fellow not too far down from your stool, and you let yourself get back to your thoughts.

Nothin' major... What a load of horse shit.

You thought bitterly to yourself, unable to push it out of your mind.

----

"Fired?!"

"Exactly right, [Name]. The company has no more need for you here. I'm sure there are plenty of opportunities for new wor-"

The man jumped as you slammed your hand down against the desk, standing upright. You were a tall individual, and the way your boss cowered under your shadow emphasized it greatly. Your eyes narrowed at him viciously.

"May I ask the reason you're firing me, sir?"

You growled, venom dripping as you addressed him by the title. He swallowed, looking up at you sheepishly. You weren't stupid. You knew why. You just wanted him to grow a pair and say it to your face. You watched him take his time, gathering his courage before glaring up at you fearfully.

"B...B-Because you're terrifying, damn it!!! Now get off the premise b-before I call security on you!!"

He shot back, his voice high and squeaky as he shot up and pointed at the door. You let out a huff, shooting him one last death glare before turning on your heel to stalk out of the office.

"Fine, you've been a pain in the ass anyway."

----

"--You okay there??"

You snapped your head up, brought out of the memory by a voice. It was the barkeep again... What was her name? You managed a grin, shifting slightly on the barstool.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got a little lost in thought,"

You paused, squinting at the small tag above her chest that held her name.

"Nami."

You looked back up at her, seeing her give you a small smile. You liked that smile. It was warm, radiant. Most smiles that were aimed your way were nervous or uncertain, so the little gesture felt like a nice change. You went back to your drink, but eventually your eyes wandered back to Nami. She really was beautiful. A sigh escaped your lips before you caught yourself, mentally blaming the drink for the rouge tint of your cheeks as you chug the rest of it down. Lovely as she was, that smile was only given to you because you were a customer. People like you were too scary for a fragile thing like love. You couldn't even remember your last relationship.. Maybe that was just because you forgot. Either way, you felt the chances were slim. Getting out of the depressing subject, you watched a man wander back towards the bar from the table section, a few of his friends not far behind him. He had an arrogant look about him, something told you he felt like starting trouble. He came over to where Nami was, leaning against the counter towards her. She only spared him a glance as she fixed drinks for the other patrons, flashing him a quick smile.

"What can I get you?"

She asked him. The grin on his face grew wider as he glanced back at his friends. You studied him silently from your seat, taking in small details to get a read on him. He was tall, a little taller than you, even. His face was marred by multiple scars, the way they adorned his face told you he had earned those from fights. Your grip tightened on the whiskey glass in your hand, your mind on edge as he leaned in closer to her.

"How about a round?"

She raised her eyebrow at the request, crossing her arms as she chuckled. You knew what he meant, but apparently Nami had missed it.

"Bud, I need to know what kind of drink you want."

She replied. The smug expression of his refused to falter as he let out a sharp laugh. You weren't liking this guy, not one bit. Your eyes hardened as you watched the interaction.

"What kind of round? I'd say a rough one in that hotel nearby when you're done here, pretty lady. What about it?"

He replied. His friends chortled in the background, whooping and praising his wit like a pack of yesmen. This could go one of two ways; either he takes "no" or he doesn't. Paired with the little fleet of kissups he had with him, your gut told you "no" wasn't in this dumbass's vocabulary today. Nami sighed, closing her eyes. With her beauty, she had to be used to the gross flirts by now. That thought gave you no comfort whatsoever.

"That sounds really nice, sir, but I'm not really interested."

She replied shortly. You hid a snort at the blunt reply, going unnoticed by the man. His eyes narrowed at the answer, and within moments he had overstepped his bounds tremendously. His hands had snaked over the counter, going immediately to Nami's ass. She let out a yelp, but she didn't fight back. She couldn't. Like hell you were going to let this go.

You stood up slowly from your seat, your blood boiling as you approached him. He looked over at you with a disinterested expression, looking nonchalant as he gripped her behind.

"What d'you want? I'm in the middle of something here."

He grumbled. You ignored him, your eyes going over to Nami. She let out small whimpers as he groped her, your eyes locking with hers.

She looked terrified.

Your movement was swift and powerful. You raised your left arm, and your hand locked itself onto his head as you forced it down against the bar counter with a monstrous force. His hands flew away from her as he screamed out in pain, clutching his face. You broken his nose, along with a few of his teeth. God, you wished you could do so much worse, but you wouldn't dare to scar Nami with any more of that. Your eyes narrowed down at him dangerously, your anger raw and barely contained as you maintained the grip on his cranium.

"That wasn't a smart thing to do, pal. She just told you no, that wasn't a fuckin' invitation. You're lucky that I haven't fucked up more than your face, you pig."

You hissed into his ear, letting his head go before taking him by the collar and tossing him at his friends. They caught him unsteadily, looking fearfully over at you. You looked down on them, your voice a deep rumble as you growled over at them.

"Get out and don't come back."

You stated. They didn't need to be told twice. No sooner than you said it, the small troupe scrambled out the door, carrying the incapacitated harasser with them. You turned back to Nami, your eyes searching her worriedly.

"Are you okay?"

You asked, the concern obvious in your tone. You met her eyes again. You knew you were scary, what just happened had to be terrifying for her. She probably saw you as a monster now.. No more sunshine smiles for you..

But there wasn't any fear in her eyes.

She grinned up at you, looking amazed.

"I'm okay now, don't worry! That was terrifying though... I don't know what would have happened if you didn't come save me like that.."

She said, shivering. You felt a blush crawl into your face, smiling back at her sheepishly.

"I-It's no big deal, really.. I just did what was right."

You replied humbly, scratching the back of your neck. She shook her head at the reply, her gaze full of fire.

"You just KO'ed a guy bigger than you like it was nothing!! Don't go all modest on me with that kind of stunt, I owe you big time!" 

She replied firmly, taking your hand in hers and giving it a quick squeeze before putting it down. You looked away, feeling your blush grow rapidly.

"At least let me thank you somehow."

She offered. Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe there was a chance.. You look down at her, swallowing.

"Well, I'm free on Wednesday if you wanna head to the movies that night.."

You reply, setting your hands in your pockets awkwardly. Your eyes drift back to her face, and the sight almost makes you lose it.

She's blushing.

No weird face. No grimace. No sign of rejection. Hope sparked inside of you and caught on your heart like wildfire as she felt her cheeks, avoiding your gaze in an embarrassed fashion. Adorable. Finally, she looked back up at you, giving you that sunshine smile that you were growing fond of.

"Okay... But can I know something?"

Taking a second to get out of your dumbfounded stupor, you looked down at her curiously.

"Of course, what's up?"

She giggles.

"What's your name?"

You pause, processing it for a minute. Finally, you let out a laugh. It goes for a minute before you calm down, apologizing before catching your breath fully.

"Sorry about that... I had forgotten to introduce myself, I'm so stupid!"

You chuckle, shaking your head. You hold out your hand, offering her your first genuine smile of the night.

"I'm [Name]."

She grasps your hand, shaking it slightly.

"I'm happy to finally know it. How about you come here around 7:30 that day to pick me up?"

You grin.

"Sounds good."

Suddenly, the back pocket of your riding pants started to vibrate. You rolled your eyes, pulling out your phone to see your friend was calling. They didn't call unless they needed you down there for something. With a sigh, you look back at her apologetically.

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go. If that fucker gives you any trouble again, call me."

You say, taking out an old receipt and a pen from your pocket to scribble down your number. You slide it down towards her along with the money for your drinks before heading towards the door, taking up your helmet on the way out. You can feel her eyes on you as you go.

The eyes that refuse to fear you.

~~~~~~~

I SMELLED NAMI STANS AND I HAVE COME TO FEED YOU HELLO I AM HERE

By the by, most of my reader inserts are gender neutral and unless someone specifically requests for a gender that's how it stays

[cathwritestragediesnotsins]

Unconventional

Alpha!Daryl x Alpha!Reader

Summary: Y/N fears her feelings for Daryl, thinking he couldn’t possibly want to make things work with another Alpha, could he?

A/N: I made T-Dog and Glenn Omegas for the sake of the storyline.

Word count: 2,641

I huff as I stomp away from another fight with the stubborn redneck alpha. Carol raises her brows in question at me as I march toward the camp, leaving Daryl to go out searching by himself. Again.

“Unbelievable.” I mutter. 

“He’s not the only one who wants to find Sophia! But he acts like he’s got dibs on looking for her or something! Like it’s his job and nobody else’s!” I complain animatedly, taking a seat on the picnic table situated under the tree Carol’s clothes line is hanging on. “Does he really think he can find her all by himself??”

“Goodness knows what goes on in any Alpha’s head” Carol says, shooting me a pointed glance. I give her a ‘you’re-not-helping’ look in return. She just laughs and shakes her head. “Why don’t you help me with this while you complain about Daryl.” she requests.

 I huff in annoyance and then groan in protest, slumping in my seat dramatically before finally pushing myself up and shuffling over to help the grey-haired woman. 

We work in silence for a bit before Carol speaks up “When are you going to do something about your infatuation with Daryl?” she asks.

 I turn sharply to face her, 

“What? I’m not infatuated with Daryl! He’s an Alpha!” I defend lamely. The woman gives me another pointed glance, “Mhm, ok, sure.” she says sarcastically, making it clear she doesn’t believe me. “I’m not!” I insist, movements becoming unnecessarily aggressive as I continue hanging clothes up to dry. 

“Then why haven’t you shown any interest in any omegas? You avoid T-dog and Glenn like the plague since they’re unclaimed!” there’s a long drawn out pause as I refuse to acknowledge her words. She sighs “There’s nothing wrong with two Alpha’s being together...” Carol suggests open-endedly. 

I sigh, avoiding eye contact. “That’s not how it works and you know it.” I argue. “And who decided there were rules to love?” she counters. 

“Woah woah woah no one said anything about love! I am NOT in love with Daryl ok?” 

Carol finally halts her work  and turns to face me, reaching over to stop my movements as well. 

“Aren’t you though?” 

My eyes dart up to make contact with hers at that, lips parting, about to protest.

“Y/N, I’ve seen the way you look at him, like he’s everything to you. It’s the same way Rick looks at Lori. And Daryl looks at you like that too! Fuck the rules!” Carol says, raising her voice and then remembering where we are. She glances around to make sure Carl isn’t anywhere near by before continuing at a lowered volume. “Fuck how things are ‘supposed to work’! If you want to be with him than you are the only thing stopping you.” she encourages, squeezing my hands comfortingly. 

I shake my head, “I don’t know Carol, what if he doesn’t want this? And even if he does what if he changes his mind later? He’s an Alpha, I don’t want to be the one to stop him from finding happiness with an Omega.”

Carol huffs out a gentle laugh, “Have you ever thought that he might be scared of that same thing?” My brows furrow in thought. “No, I guess I haven’t”  Carol nods understandingly, 

“Look, all I’m saying if that if you two love each other why not give it a shot?” Carol says, quirking an eyebrow at me before turning back to the clothes line. 

We continue to work in silence after that as I think about what she said. Could two Alphas make a relationship work? It wasn’t unheard of but it definitely wasn’t a common occurrence and there was a reason for that. 

Could Daryl and I be a part of the small statistic of Alpha/Alpha mating that stood the test of time?

                                                       ~~~

I came darting out of the house the second I heard a gunshot ring out across the Greene’s property, the screen door banging open and closed loudly in my hurry to see what was wrong. I pulled out the knife strapped to my thigh and ran as fast as my legs would carry me toward the group of people in the paddock. 

“What’s going on??” I asked as soon as I was within shouting distance. Glenn jogged ahead of where I could see Shane and Rick dragging a limp body toward the house. “Andrea shot Daryl!” he informed. My eyes widened in panic and my mouth dropped open but before I could say anything Andrea and Dale were running towards us, the former screaming “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, is he dead??” I followed after the duo, getting closer so I could check on Daryl. 

“Unconscious. Ya just grazed him” Rick informed as he and Shane continued marching swiftly to the farmhouse.

“Well look at him, what the hell happened?? He’s-he’s wearing ears!” Glenn cried, gesturing to Daryl’s chest where sure enough walker ears were strung around Daryl’s neck by an old shoelace. Rick quickly ripped the make-shift necklace from around Daryl’s neck as we neared Hershel who was standing concernedly just off the porch. “Let’s keep that to ourselves” Rick mutters as he shoves the string of ears into his shirt pocket. 

“Guys!” T-dog spoke up just then, trailing behind the group and staring in awe at something in his hands “Isn’t this Sophia’s?” he questions, holding up a ragdoll for the group to see. I gasped the tiniest bit when I saw the familiar toy. Rick and Shane stopped and turned, everyone’s faces holding grim expressions as we realized what this might mean. The two shared a look before resuming their current task. “Take him to the spare bedroom down the hall, Maggie show them where it is.” Hershel ordered, joining the group of people following the three men in concern. Maggie nodded and Beth yanked open the screen door for her sister and the trio behind her, Hershel turning and blocking the doorway for the rest of us “Stay out here, I need space to work” he demanded before finally letting the door swing shut behind him.

I ran my dirty fingers through my hair, tugging at it and breathing rapidly as I tried desperately not to break down. “Do you think he’ll be ok?” a voice behind me said and it provided the perfect distraction. Suddenly I felt white-hot anger spreading through my body and I turned on my heel, hair flying as I whipped around to face the blonde woman. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you??” I roared. “How could you shoot him!” Andrea’s expression crumpled as I marched towards her but Dale stepped between us. “Woah, Y/N, she thought he was a walker!” “So?? Don’t make excuses for her Dale! Even if it had been a walker she would have put more people in danger by using a gun but she just had to show off and if she wasn’t such a shit shot she would’ve killed Daryl!” I pushed past Dale and shoved an accusing finger into Andrea’s collarbone. “You and your pride have been nothing but trouble for this group. You’d better get your shit together and under control or Daryl won’t be the only one with a bullet in his head.” I hissed venomously, giving her one final withering glare before stomping off to my tent to calm down

.Once I reach it I shove the flap aside, crouching to go inside and falling to my knees on top of my rumpled sleeping bag. Tears began to run down my cheeks as my fear caught up with me fully. I dissolved into a mess of overwhelming sobs, hugging myself as if to keep from falling apart.

 I could’ve lost him.

                                           ~~~~~~

I roll my eyes as laughter from the dining room filters under the closed door to the room where I’m sitting, keeping an eye on Daryl. I can’t believe they’re out there having a dinner party and pretending like everything is peachy when Hershel expects us to leave as soon as Carl recovers, Sophia is missing and Daryl has just been shot. A scoff escapes my lips. 

“What’s got you all worked up?” 

I jumped a bit, turning to see Daryl peeking at me through barely opened eyes in the low lamplight from the bed. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I ask, getting up from my chair to go sit on the end of the bed. I reach forward to remove the cloth from Daryl’s forehead and though he watches me skeptically, unsure of what I’m doing, he doesn’t try to stop me or flinch away. He grunts in answer to my question as I submerge the washcloth into the basin of water on the bedside table and ring it out before replacing it on his head in an attempt to cool his hot skin. 

“You didn’t answer the quest’n” he points out. I huff out a humorless laugh and shake my head. “Nothin’, just can’t believe that bitch shot you.” I excuse. He grunts again, reaching up to feel the bandage wrapped around his head “Knew one of ‘em would sooner or later.” I roll my eyes at his self-depreciating joke, but a smile creeps onto my lips anyway. We’re quiet for a moment after that. I’m too caught up in my own head to notice the curious look Daryl is giving me. I feel myself begin to slowly unravel as intrusive thoughts flicker through my mind. The same thought that has been haunting me all day repeats over and over in my head: I could’ve lost him. My breaths are shaky and quiet and I keep my eyes focused on the floor. “Hey,” Daryl calls suddenly, snapping me out of my trance. I glance up at him uncertainly, trying to gage how much he noticed just now. When I see the concerned look he’s giving me I force a smile. Daryl remains unconvinced. 

His hand reaches for mine that rests on the bed next to his shyly, a silent plea to tell him what’s wrong. I watch his fingers intertwine with my own, loving the feeling of his rough skin against mine. It takes me a couple minutes to sort of the words, and work up the courage to say them but Daryl is patient, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand soothingly. Suddenly my eyes dart up to connect with his and I feel this undeniable pull. I was so scared. Without warning, I move as if on impulse, sliding over Daryl’s lower legs under the quilt to the other side of them bed and crawl up toward the headboard, curling up and hiding my face in Daryl’s side.

I can feel him tense, knowing I caught him off-guard, but he doesn’t pull away, instead, lifting his arm to wrap around my shoulders comfortingly. Tears flood my eyes again and I whisper, just loud enough for him to hear “You scared me.” I admit. My voice sounds so fragile; vulnerable. But that’s the thing about my relationship with Daryl, he understands that being afraid doesn’t make me any less brave, needing help doesn’t make me any less capable. He takes every part of me without question, respecting me while at the same time being there for me whenever I need him. And in return I do the same. That’s why our relationship works so well, why I’ve never been interested in an Omega. 

“I’m ok.” he finally replies, leaning over to press a delicate kiss to the crown of my head. 

“Don’t leave me.” I whimper, the words slipping past my lips without meaning them to.

“Never.” Daryl replies instantly. “You’re stuck with me for as long as ya want me.” he says, chuckling. 

I pull away to look him in the eye. “I always want you.” I tell him truthfully, the events of today giving me the surge of confidence needed to tell him how I felt. “I want you for the rest of my life.” I say earnestly, needing him to know that, even if he doesn’t want me the same way. His eyes widen in surprise and he studies me for a few quiet moments, searching my features for any sign of a lie. 

“But...what about your Omega?” he questions hesitantly. I laugh, “Daryl, I’ve never wanted an Omega. I only want you.” a small gasp escapes his lips at my words, our hearts both beating wildly in our chests. He reaches up timidly to brush a few stray hairs out of my face. “Are you sure?” he says and I can hear how tight his throat is in his voice. I nod firmly, watching him closely, trying to figure out what he could be thinking. 

“Al’ight” he says suddenly.

I tilt my head, my brows furrowing in confusion, “Alright what?” 

“I want that with you too.” he says, too shy to meet my eyes as he says it. Only when he finally glances up at me does he see the large grin that has taken over my face. A smile of his own makes its way onto his face when he sees the happiness glinting in my eyes. 

Without giving myself time to overthink I lean forward, taking his face in my hands and pressing my lips to his. It takes him a moment for him to recover from his shock but then he immediately returns the kiss, his facial hair scratching at my face pleasantly. I scoot forward on my knees to get better access and he leans his head back to adjust to the new position. His hands find their way to my hips and he pulls me onto him so that I’m straddling his lap while one of my hands smooths up the back of his neck into his hair, tugging lightly. He grunts in satisfaction at the action, deepening the kiss.

All of the sudden the door to the bedroom pushes open, Daryl and I both pulling away from each other in shock to see Carol standing in the doorway, a surprised look on her face. I quickly move off of Daryl’s lap, my cheeks tinting pink with embarrassment. 

“Oh, sorry, I just came to bring you some dinner,” Carol says, opening the door wider and producing a tray. She smirks and sets it down on the bedside table “but don’t let me interrupt. It’s about time you two got together!” she says mischievously. “Carol!” I say, my mouth hanging open in shock at her forwardness. She giggles and dodges the pillow I throw at her. “Have fun!” she calls before swinging the door closed and disappearing from sight. 

“YOU’RE DEAD TO ME!!” I call out after her, huffing and slumping back against the footboard of the bed.

I turn back to Daryl, expecting him to look mortified at the interruption but he’s just looking at me with a small, fond smile. “What?” I question, “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Nothin’, you’re just cute is all.” he replies, shaking his head while the smile still tugs at his lips. I fake gasp, placing a hand on my chest in mock offense. “Excuse you! I’m not cute, I’m an Alpha!” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. He chuckles, reaching out for me and tugging me closer. I give in to his pull, collapsing on top of him, my body draped over his, our legs tangled together and my chin resting on his chest just below his collarbone “I know, and I love you Alpha.” he says. I can’t stop the grin that breaks out on my face, so wide that my cheeks begin to hurt. I push myself up, drawing our faces closer together, stopping with my lips inches from his, our forehead’s leaning against each other “I love you too Alpha”

A/N: I felt like the ending was pretty corny but this has been in my drafts for ages and I couldn’t come up with anything else so here ya go lol

[harveywritings92]

Someone flirts/asks them out in front of you!: Ezio,Jacob,Arno.

Ezio (Modern AU):

The school had hired a new secretary, [S/n] she was cute, tall, redhead,... And thirsty as hell for Ezio and she wasn't subtle about it! Students and staff alike would noticed and watch her flirt with every chance she got. Example: unbuttoning her blouse to flash her bra, 'accidentally' dropping something and bending down to pick it up, while giving her ass a little wiggle and would peek over her shoulder to see Ezio was watching?

He wasn't he was busy checking over his lesson plan, When that didn't work, she boldly pressed her tits as against his back as she wrapped her arms around his bicep, only for the Italian man to tense up and pull out of her hold, she pouted as he told her the 'no touching during school hours' rule and would like to keep his job thank-you.

Now you think the kids or the staff would step in and tell S/n that Mr. Auditore was spoken for, But she was a grade 'A' B*tch to people when he wasn't around. putting people down, talking about them behind their backs and straight up bullying the kids.

Then S/n saw Ezio leaving for the day, Now was her chance! she ran over to him about to call out, only to back-peddle and sneer in disdain when she saw Y/n with him...

why would someone like Ezio talk to some mouse like Y/n? She decided not to dwell on it, Y/n was plain and S/n was beautiful as if he'll refuse her! she thought smugly.

"Ezio!~, So this is where you've been hiding.~"

"Hello, S/n what I can do for you." 

"Oh, what can't you do for me?~" She purred caressing his arm, Ezio looks every uncomfortable, but S/n hadn't noticed as she bit her lip, picturing just what he'd be like in bed. "Maybe you can show me, after dinner perhaps?" She purred eyeing him hungrily.

"Sorry, but he has plans tonight." Y/n's voice cut in sternly S/n pulled away the Italian and glaring daggers at the y/ht woman. "Oh, really and just how do you know that?" the redhead hissed venomously.

"Cuz I'm the one who made them." Y/n barked back with equal animosity, S/n snorted and looked at some spectators like 'do you believe this crap?'  And was going to voice that thought! until one of the girl's shouted "You tell her Mrs. Auditore! Fight for yo man!" that's when S/n pulled her head out of her ass long enough noticed the wedding ring on Ezio's raised his hand as he waved the kids off.

"No,no there will be no fighting! Go home." he ordered the students to go home the kids murmured disappointed that there wasn't going to be a cat-fight as Ezio turned to the bemused secretary. "And you, se non vuoi fotterti così tanto, fottiti, cagna!" he huffed annoyed as the redhead raised a drawn on brow obviously not understanding.

"He said if you wan't to f*ck something so badly, Just f*ck yourself bitch!" Y/n translated and high-fives her husband, S/n gawked at the couple in disbelief as they got into their car and drove off, before letting out this pterodactyl like screech. She quit the next day.  

______________________________________________________________

Jacob [modern au] (Jacob runs a gym called Rooks: Fitness and self-defense.):

"She's not here for just fitness training you know.." Evie said to her sister-in law while they observed the new gym members from the front desk. "Who's not just here for the fitness?" Y/n asked cocking a brow curiously, and briefly wondering if someone signed for the defense package and she'd mislabeled them! Her husband had her on desk duty now that she was in her second trimester for their second child, (your son was at school.)

"that brunette girl in purple, apparently she's just smitten with that thick headed oaf of ours." She explained to the y/hc woman hummed not even surprised, this wouldn't be the first time a woman or man joined the gym with the intention of bedding Jacob, they of course they usually backed off once they figured out he was married and wasn't budging from Y/n. 

Well, except for that one man who stalked them and desperately tried to coax the couple into having a threesome with him, He was like 50, smelled like sardines and looked like a gargoyle! He threw a big toddler level tantrum; stomping his feet, screaming and name calling, when they told him that he had to leave, he threw a metal sports bottle at Y/n which broke her nose! Needless to say that guy left the gym in an ambulance with three cracked ribs, two black eyes a broken jaw.

Y/n was brought out of her thoughts by a beeping she looked down at the monitor call from training room 4. "Excuse me Evie, Jacob asking for water." She said pulling a water bottle out of the fridge, and heading to the room. When she got there Y/n could hear [purple girl/PG] talking with Jacob they were using the weights if hearing correctly, and the brunette made no effort trying to hide she was flirting with the British man hard.

Every time she tried steer him to details about himself or asked for his number he'd say. "You've got enough details, You've already got the gym number." Basically shooting her down everytime, but she wasn't taking the hint. 

Y/n knocked and walked in Jacob's eyes lit up the second he saw her. "Hey there darlin.~" Jacob purred in an instant Y/n watched P/G's face sour as her husband pulled away from the weight machine turning his attention on her. "Hi Jacob." the y/ht woman smiled shyly as her husband moved closer to her. 

His body was radiating heat like furnace a welcoming feeling to the pregnant woman; the AC upfront was on full blast so Y/n was freezing her arse off! It took everything she had not to hug and leech off of Jacob who was pretty much oblivious to P/G getting irate as he playfully chatted with his wife. "How goes manning the front?" he mused and before Y/n could even answer.

"Why are you even talking to that cow Jacob, her hair so obviously fake!" P/g's voice rudely cut in jealousy evident in her tone. After a few seconds of silence, Jacob scrutinized the brunette who was giving his wife a nasty look. "Really now? It certainly didn't look fake last night or when she gave birth to my son." he quipped it took a split-second for the brunette to register what the British man had said, her face turned maroon before grabbing her things and leaving in a huff.

The couple watched her leave not even fazed.

"That was what, the third one this month?" Jacob asked pulling Y/n close to him noticing she was shivering, the y/nat woman paused thinking it over. "hmm, The Fifth. four was that blond dude who asked me who the daddy was?" the hazel eyed hummed remembering now, whilst gently rubbing her belly. "one and two just gave up and started dating each other..."she trailed off trying to recall the third person. 

"and number three didn't even make through the front door, she walked in saw us kissing did a U-turn and left." she felt Jacob chuckle against her back they walked back to the front desk, Where Evie was sitting she said P/G cancelled her membership before leaving and was absolutely livid. Her brother and SIL just shrugged "Hey she was the one wouldn't take the hint." Jacob said his sister just rolled her eyes and the three went back to work.

______________________________________________________________

Arno Dorian : [Takes place before they had a kid.]

Y/n was getting sick her throat was sore meaning she was unable to sing for a while, so Arno had to hire a temporary stand in for his wife. {Temp's name: T/n] she was spoiled, had raven hair, was pretty and had blue eyes... And oh, boy did did the others see the dollar signs in the young lady's eyes the second she stepped foot in the cafe and noticed Arno, it was obvious she took this job because she saw Arno was young, attractive and had money. All the attributes a gold-digger looks for in a man. 

But what the ravenette didn't know was that Arno was already spoken for, His and Y/n's marriage wasn't exactly common knowledge only a few selection of friends knew including his employees. But none of them had bothered telling [T/n] assuming Arno already told her of his marital status and the french man assumed they told her.

Needless to say T/n laid the flirting and attention seeking on thick, she would always act super sweet and flirty when Arno was around, tried to drag his attention away from the other female staff and customers, The blue eyed vixen tried to convince the brown haired man to take special practice sessions with her too help her improve her melody. Unfortunately for her Arno too busy with his other job and he also knew little to nothing about singing, according to those around him. ""Monsieur Dorian you are man of many talents... But singing is not one of them."" She didn't let that deter her as far as T/n was concern, she and Arno were already together he just didn't know it yet.

[Unbeknownst to Arno, Y/n would secretly leaving their room while he was busy or out doing assassin contracts, She wanted to see how things were going with T/n and if any of her fans was giving the younger girl trouble, what she saw was the opposite, It became quite clear what the ravenette was a spoiled brat whose never been told "no" before, nor had she ever lifted a finger to help around the cafe. and to make matters worse it was quite clear T/n was fishing for a husband and it was obvious she had her eyes set on Arno, luckily he was too worried over Y/n's health and his other work to care.]

Arno was gone for a few days and T/n decided to boss everyone around make them redecorate and cook for her and her friends, of course no one did anything she told them to do! It was like they didn't realize who she was? She was to be Mrs. Dorian one day, and and they best remember that! she snarked at one of the cooks who looked at her like she'd grown three heads. 

"Oh Little girl, You are many things. But Madame Dorian you are not." the old man barked before pointing behind her "that's Madame Dorian." he stated T/n nose scrunched up as she whirled around to see a sickly looking Y/nat woman coming down the stairs she Y/ht &Y/wt and had Y/hl/hc hair and wary Y/ec, T/n was confused qui était cette garce? and why was she coming from Her Arno's apartment?!

The ravenette made her way over to this, this...Harlot! with the intention of throwing her out and giving her piece of her mind! How dare she sneak into her cafe! when Arno's voice cut in.

"Y/n! what are you doing out of bed?" the french man said fretfully rushing over to the y/ht woman who was looking around confused. "I heard yelling, and someone calling me so I came to see..." She said as Arno checked her temperature and sighed before noticing T/n staring at them gobsmacked.

The brown haired man frowned. "T/n? go back upfront you're not allowed back here." he informed as the confused ravenette snapped out of her stupor and pointed an accusatory finger at Y/n "You let that in!!" She shrieked as Arno pushed the Y/hc behind him. " Her name is Y/n, She's my wife and can go where she pleases..." he hissed venomously the young woman jaw tightened. "What do you mean she's your wife?!?!" T/n was frothing at the mouth declaring Arno was hers.

"Mine,Mine Mine!!!" she whined throwing a tantrum and like a child denied a new toy, next thing they knew *Slap* T/n stopped screaming and now held onto her now sore cheek as a stony faced Y/n stood before her. "Stop acting like a brat! You're an adult for Christ's sake!" The y/nat woman said sternly as the ravenette gawked at her before glancing at Arno who had the same cold look as his wife.

"Don't look at him, he's not going to help you!"

"*starts crying crocodile tears*"

"Crying won't help either!" Y/n crossed her arms as the ravenette realized no one was falling for her tricks as the y/ht woman kept her gaze on her. "Now you going swallow what little dignity you have left, and your going tell friends to pay for their meals and to leave," T/n opened her mouth to protest but Y/n cut her off. 

"Than you're going apologize to the staff."

"I don't have to take this! you can't boss me!"

T/n snapped Y/n turned to Arno with a cock brow he shrugged. "You're fired." he said nonchalantly as the ravenette gaped at Arno like a fish, before realizing he wasn't joking! the blue eyed girl turned a nice shade of purple and stomped out of the kitchen screeching at her friends that they were leaving! 

Her friends who hadn't finished their food looked at her confused before Arno snapped they weren't going anywhere until they paid, Which one of them said something about T/n being engaged to the owner and he was paying for it. "Funny because I don't remember making such a deal, nor do I remember proposing..." He sneered at the audacity this woman.

They all paled and stammered about leaving their coin-purses at home before looking at annoyed T/n the ravenette blanched realizing she didn't have the money to pay for all of it she spent it all, the situation was eventually settled as Y/n sent one of their wait staff to go fetch T/n's father who was livid and embarrassed by his daughter's behavior and basically lat her have it it was the last straw! 

She's was going to her aunt's farm to learn an honest days work and some discipline! as T/n kept her head down as he drag her out of the cafe. Causing Arno and Y/n to burst out laughing a few minutes later in disbelief that this seriously happened.  

"Oh by the way I'm pregnant." Y/n chirped before disappearing up the stairs Arno who was still laughing at the whole situation didn't even register what his wife had just told. "Your pregnant!" He chortled then slowly his laughter died down and his expression changed to bemusement then shock. "Your preg..pr.Pregnant?!" He stammered got up from his chair nearly tripping on his feet as he ran up the stairs calling her name. 

------------

Translation :  qui était cette garce? = Who is this bitch?

[taetaespeaches]

“You’re not an asshole, you’re just a pain in the ass”

Seokjin x Reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.5K

a/n: hey guys! I’m back! I had to write a little something for my emotional support seokjinnie’s birthday!!! This involves a little fight, a little jealousy, but mostly Jin and his s/o being obnoxiously in love with tons of teasing. This is a continuation of the couple from my fic, “I broke your nose, and I’m sorry for that, but what you’re doing isn’t fair”, so if you haven’t read that, click on the link! Ok, lovelies! As always, I hope you enjoy :)) 

YOU shoved your arm through the jacket sleeve as you rushed out your apartment door, quickly locking it, your bag hanging off your wrist and the rest of the jacket hanging down your back. Scurrying down the hallway, you struggled to push your other arm through the opposite sleeve of the jacket as your phone started to ring. 

Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled the device out to see your boyfriend’s contact name “Jinnie” across the screen that displayed a photo of said boyfriend, sporting a pair of pink sunglasses and pulling a kissy face. 

Answering the phone, you shifted the bag onto your shoulder as you greeted a growingly impatient Jin. 

“Yeah, hi, I’m on my—”

“Are you coming yet?” Jin interrupted. 

“Yeah, I’m almost to the lobby, sorry, I couldn’t—” you tried to explain. 

“You told me not to come in because you’d be ‘right out’ and here I’ve been waiting—” he interrupted again in an obnoxious and teasing tone. 

“I know, I know, I couldn’t find my keys—” You spoke overtop of him as he continued to lightly lecture you. 

“—for ten minutes. Ten minutes, love.” He finally finished. 

“You know, just because you add a ‘love’ at the end doesn’t change the fact that you’re scolding your grown ass girlfriend,” you complained, stepping out of the building doors, immediately spotting Jin’s car. 

“Yeah, my grown ass girlfriend who loses her keys at least four times a week,” he teased, rolling down his window so he could flash you a smile. 

“Would you just shush and tell me how nice I look?” You held your arm out, looking down your frame and back up, shooting him a cocky expression. 

Yelling into the phone and out the window, “That right there is my beautiful girlfriend!” 

You pulled the phone from your ear, wincing at the volume, letting out a chuckle. “Yeah I am,” you yelled back, spinning around to show off your full look, playing into his enthusiasm. 

“Wow!” he shouted keenly, “Is everyone seeing this? Hey, sir,” he called out to a random passerby, the man looking to Jin in surprise, pointing to himself in question. “Yeah, you! Are you aware you are in the presence of a goddess?”

The man turned to look at you, confusion etched across his features as he tried to figure out what to do, very obviously wanting to walk right out of this awkward situation he found himself in. 

“Oh, my god,” you said to yourself, speed walking to the car, looking down at your feed and giving the stranger a polite nod as you passed by him. When you heard Jin’s laughter ring through your ears, you looked up to meet his amused gaze. Shaking your head, you let out a disbelieving scoff, though you couldn’t hold back your smile. 

“What the hell, Jin, was that necessary?” You asked him as you opened the car door, crawling on to the passenger seat. 

“You know, I bet if you were ten minutes earlier, that guy wouldn’t have been there,” he teased you with a big grin. 

Your jaw dropping in feigned shock, you glared at him. “Wow, you’re the actual worst.” Jin laughed at that, leaning in to kiss your nose as you continued to shoot daggers at him. 

Smiling widely at you, you shook your head before he grabbed your cheeks and placed a sweet kiss to your lips. 

“Ok, so are you finally ready to go?” He teased as he settled back against his seat. 

With a scoff, you bit your lip to hold back laughter. “Seokjin, I’m in the freaking car, would you just drive,” a small giggle slipped out.  

“Ok, ok, no need to be hostile, love,” he grinned as he shifted the car in drive.

Sitting at the bar, you admired your tipsy boyfriend who was in full conversation with the bartender. What started with asking which drink he suggested had turned into talking about the old bartender’s grandkids and the various activities they were up to. 

When Jin started drinking yet another one of the bartender’s drink concoctions, you noted that you would have to drive home, sipping on your water. 

You were pulled out of your lovestruck daze when Namjoon’s voice randomly shouted from down the bar, “Whoah, what the heck are you two doing here?” 

You and Jin both looked towards the voice you both knew well, you waving with a smile. Jin was about to call out to his friend when Jungkook stepped into view. His demeanor completely changing, he looked down to his drink with a huff. 

Scrunching your eyebrows at him, you placed your hand on his forearm, giving a light squeeze. When his eyes met yours, you smiled. Expecting him to return the gesture, he instead gestured to the two men approaching you both. 

“Did you text him and tell him where we are or something?” He asked, annoyance lacing his tone, along with a hint of hurt. 

You pulled a look of confusion but before you could respond, Namjoon’s hand was on Jin’s shoulder and he was asking his older friend what he was drinking. 

As Namjoon talked to Jin, your boyfriend wasn’t hearing a word, instead watching how you and Jungkook shared a glance. 

See, just that morning, Jungkook had texted you something particularly funny that had you laughing over your coffee, and when Jin came in and you insisted it was nothing, he nearly let it go. But then Jungkook’s name popped up on your phone. 

He didn’t say anything, but you knew he was prone to getting a bit jealous of your friendship with Jungkook. And it didn’t help that you had been spending more time with Jungkook, as you were helping each other pick out gifts for your favorite dude’s birthday- and since it was for his birthday, you were unable to give Jin the details of the hangouts. 

Now, a few drinks in and his heart in a bit of pain, you had a feeling your boyfriend was going to say something.

As you looked from your boyfriend to the water glass in your hand, Jungkook’s voice sounded over the tension he wasn’t even aware existed. 

“Hey,” he tapped your shoulder with the back of his hand. “How did that thing turn out?” Jungkook sported a big grin as his eyes flashed over to Jin and back to you.  

That was it. You could feel Jin’s angry energy even before the sigh he let out met your ears. 

“Jungkook, why the hell can’t you just back off?” Jin asked him bitterly, turning around on the bar stool to face the younger man. 

Jungkook looked surprised, taken aback by the venom behind Jin’s words. “Wait what?” Jungkook asked. 

You reached out to touch Jin’s knee in an attempt to calm him, but he continued on, his anger and insecurities bubbling over. 

“You seem to enjoy hanging out with other people’s girlfriends,” he said rather calmly, which was more unsettling to you than if he was yelling. “But that’s the thing, she’s not your girlfriend, is she?” His anger was becoming more apparent, and he ignored you when you sharply spoke his name, his indignant gaze set on Jungkook. 

Jungkook scoffed, looking to you and then back at Jin, a small disbelieving smile on his face. “Really, Jin? You’d think you’d trust your girlfriend a bit more,” Jungkook said as he took a small step back, casting his eyes a few feet away from where Jin sat, showing his disinterest in the situation. 

Jin shot up out of his seat, taking a threatening step toward his younger friend, you standing up with him in surprise. Namjoon quickly placed a hand at the center of Jin’s chest as a warning. Jungkook’s eyes darted back to Jin and he faltered for a moment, taking another step back before straightening his posture to appear unaffected. 

“Careful hyung, don’t break my nose too,” Jungkook spoke calmly. 

Both you and Namjoon scolded Jungkook, you saying his name with disappointment and Namjoon telling him to “knock it off”. 

As Jin stared daggers at Jungkook, you were tossing your bag over your shoulder and grabbing your jacket. Reaching for Jin’s coat, you shoved it against his chest and pushed against his side to lead him away from his two friends. 

Jin’s eyes fell to you and you could already read the regret in them. “Go,” you told him sternly. Stepping outside, Jin reached for your hand, only for you to pull it away. 

“Love, I-” Jin tried to speak, but you didn’t want to hear it. 

“Put your jacket on,” you cut him off. Jin halted for a moment, watching you stalk off. Sighing, he put his jacket onto his body as he followed behind you slowly.

Suddenly, you turned around and walked directly towards him, making him stop his motions once again. Standing in front of him, you held your hand out to him, which he stared at for a moment in confusion. 

“Keys,” you demanded. Quickly fishing them out of his pocket, he handed them to you, only for you to turn away once again and make your way to the car. He watched you as you climbed into the driver seat, and he didn’t move until you had the car started. 

The car was quiet, other than the hum of the engine and the clicks of your seatbelts. Before shifting into drive, you grabbed your phone out of your jacket pocket and tossed it onto Jin’s lap, the device illuminating his form and face as it shined up at him. The lock screen displayed a photo of you and Jin, him sitting behind you wearing a big smile, his palms on your cheeks squishing your face together. 

“You’re so worried about me and Jungkook, read the messages,” you told him as you pulled out of the parking lot. Jin observed your hardened face for a moment, feeling very apologetic as he placed the phone in the cup holder and looked straight ahead at the taillights of the car in front of you. 

Stepping into your apartment, Jin followed right behind you. Neither of you had spoken a word the entire drive, and despite being angry at him, you knew his reaction was born out of insecurities. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for making him feel so jealous. 

Jin awkwardly stood in the kitchen as you went to your room, coming back with a wrapped rectangular gift in your hands. 

“What’s that?” Jin asked, his eyebrows pulled together in question. 

“A birthday present,” you said simply, holding it out to him. 

“My birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” he told you, taking the present from you and setting it on the counter. 

“December 4th is like 32 minutes away, it’s close enough.” You gestured to the gift with a nod of your head. Jin stared at you, giving you a look that asked, ‘why are you giving me a present now of all times?’ 

Nodding to the gift again, you told him, “it will explain what Guk was talking about.” 

Jin quickly shook his head. “You don’t need to explain that to me, I was out of line,” he explained. “I’m sorry.” 

Grabbing the present, you held it out to your boyfriend until he reluctantly took it from you.

“I accept your apology,” you told him, stepping a little closer. “But you need to apologize to Jungkook.” 

Jin easily agreed with a nod and a “yeah, I will. Absolutely.” 

Standing in silence once again, you gestured to the gift again, Jin finally giving in and tearing into the paper. Before removing the colorful paper, however, he looked up to you softly. 

“I trust you,” he said sincerely. “Do you know that?” 

You nodded, smiling gently. “I know that.” 

With that, Jin revealed the gift, his jaw dropping in surprise. “Oh my god,” Jin let out a single breathy laugh. “Oh my god,” he chuckled. “Wait oh my god, you look so hurt,” he shot you a sad look with pouted lips. 

Giggling, you told him, “I was hurt, you just broke my nose, remember?” 

Jin looked away from the photo to shoot you a playful glare. 

The framed photo in his hands was a picture of you and him in the emergency room not long after he had accidentally broken your nose as a result of being startled by Jungkook. In the photo, while you were staring at the wall in front of you, holding Jin’s bloodied hoodie in your lap, Jin was staring at you with the most remorse and concern you’d ever seen a person express before. 

“What do I have to do for you to forget that I broke your nose? Huh? Do you want me to break my own nose?” Your boyfriend complained making you laugh even more as he looked back down at the photo.

“Jungkook sent this to me this morning,” you told your boyfriend. “I guess he forgot he took it, but he was going through his photos and found it.” Realization flooded Jin’s expression, the revelation of what you and Jungkook were talking about that morning striking him. 

“I’m an asshole,” he muttered as you reached out to cradle his jaw in your hand. 

“I told him I was going to frame it for you for your birthday,” you smiled softly. “You’re not an asshole, you’re just a pain in the ass,” you teased. 

You were both silent for a moment as he looked at the photo and you watched his expression. “This was just minutes before our first kiss,” Jin realized aloud, smiling softly. 

Nodding, you stepped closer to him, dipping your head to place a sweet kiss to his lips. When you tried to pull away, Jin grabbed the back of your head with one hand and kissed you harder. 

“Happy birthday, Jinnie,” you whispered against his lips. “I’m still kind of mad at you.” 

Jin chuckled, pulling away just enough to look at you. “Yeah, I know. How can I make it up to you? Do you want me to go tell another stranger how proud I am to be your boyfriend?” 

“You know,” you smirked. “I think you’ve done enough of that tonight.” 

You both smiled, you biting your lip to hold back your laughter. “Ok, love. Just let me know if you change your mind.”

“Will do,” you patted his chest, grabbing the frame out of his hands to look at the photo again. 

“You know I’ll do it,” he teased, making you roll your eyes. 

Looking up from the photo, you handed it back to him, walking around him to get a glass out of the cupboard. 

“You know what I really love about that photo?” You asked him, not waiting for an answer as you continued. “You’ll never be able to live down breaking my nose with that hanging up on your wall.” 

Jin laughed loudly as he wrapped his arms around you, holding your frame in a back hug. “You’re the worst,” he chuckled against your neck before placing a series of soft kisses to the spot. “God I love you.”