#I feel like we haven’t seen a smile like that in a while

[lives-between-lines]

We gave our time to something undefined - poly!marauders x slytherin reader

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Summary: Everyone is back from summer break and the rumor mill is buzzing about a certain Slytherin, can our favorite Marauders provide a bit of comfort during trying times?

Notes:  I’m so sorry about how long this took! I honestly wasn’t sure where to go next with their story, so it took me a little fiddling but I’m happy with the direction I landed on and I hope you are too. 

Tags: Angst, fluff, traumatized Slytherins, pureblood elitism, slightly mean!reader

Words: ~8.3k

p.1 p.2

─

I hated summer. It was too hot and there was too much down time stuck with my parents. Maybe if they let me actually visit my friends more, or leave the house for more than an hour at a time I could enjoy it. Maybe if I could have a hobby that was just for leisure and not something else that I had to dedicate countless hours to being perfect at I could have a bit of fun. Instead my summers were occupied with studying to get ahead for the next year, going to stuffy formal events where I recounted how well I did on each of my OWLs, and listening to my parents drone on about all the accomplishments of their friends’ kids. 

One special cloud loomed over me as I stepped away from my parents at the train platform and toward a few months of freedom, but I shook it out of my head and focused on getting to my friends as quickly as possible. 

Having taken one last glance back at my parents, I wasn’t watching where I was going and walked straight into the stiff, muscled back of one James Potter. He turned around and I'd be damned if he didn’t smile at me like we were great friends. My brows furrowed as I scowled at him.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you since─”

“Quite a while, I’m sure. If you’ll excuse me,” I sharply interrupted him. Then I shouldered past him before he could say anything else. I knew what he was going to say, and I knew that I did not care for Potter loudly announcing to the entire platform about our encounter over the summer. Even the small interaction just now brought more attention to me than I particularly wanted. 

Andromeda stood just outside one of the train doors and we made eye contact. As I neared her, she glanced back to where I presumed James still stood. “What’s his deal? He looks a bit like a kicked puppy.”

I frowned at her, but forced myself not to look back. “How should I know? Let’s get to our seats, my feet are killing me.” 

One of Andromeda’s eyebrows ticked up at me in suspicion, but she led the way to our usual compartment. 

─

I sat amongst my friends, quietly observing as they recounted their adventures, or similar lack thereof. A part of me felt like a snake had coiled itself around my neck, a heavy weight that wouldn’t let up. 

“Are you feeling quite right?” Narcissa asked me about halfway through the trip. I looked up at her, startled. Suddenly all of the girls in the compartment were staring at me. I tried to take a breath and couldn’t. I opened my mouth to respond and words failed me. 

“Has something happened?” Andromeda asked, her hand reaching out for mine. I jerked away just as a knock sounded at our door. Everyone’s attention was quickly redirected, except for Andromeda who gave me a weary look before turning to see who had interrupted whatever had been about to happen. 

My heart dropped to my feet when I looked up to see Evan Rosier smirking at me. I willed him not to say anything that would inform my friends of the deal our parents had made this summer. It was as if he could read my thoughts at that moment, and knew exactly what to do to rile me up. 

“I believe the snack trolley is making its rounds and I do feel obliged to offer my inamorata whatever her heart desires,” he says with a self assured chuckle. 

The girls look rightly confused before glancing to me and seeing the way I glowered at Evan. 

Andromeda lets out a disbelieving laugh which causes Evan to frown slightly. “What on earth do you think you’re going on about?” 

“Our betrothal of course.” Evan holds out his hand to me. I glare at it until he drops it back to his side. “Oh, don’t be like that, my dearest. Our parents have made the deal and set the date for the second we graduate.” A series of gasps sound around me. 

Arranged marriages weren’t abnormal in our society, they just weren’t often arranged with people as young as Evan and I still were. To plan to be wed as soon as you graduated was unheard of. 

I shoot daggers at Evan for taking yet one more thing out of my hands. I decided in that moment that I hated him. I absolutely hated him and if I truly were to marry him I would make our marriage a living hell for him just as it would be for me. 

“Well. I suppose I’ll leave you all to your gossiping and wedding planning then.” He gave me one last smirk before finally excusing himself. I wanted to scream at him and rip his hair out. I wanted to hex him clear off the train. I wanted to curl up on the floor beneath my seat and hide from the world as I cried out everything I had been carrying with me. 

Instead I sat frozen in place as everyone else simply stared at me. 

“Please tell me that’s not true. You can’t truly be engaged to Rosier. Why on earth would your parents ever arrange such a thing?” Narcissa asked. 

When I swallow it feels like gravel tearing down my throat. “It appears that our parents have decided we would make an advantageous pairing.” It’s a piss poor answer, but it’s the best I can offer. 

“Well I suppose you should be grateful it’s Evan and not his widowed grandfather,” Phoebe Parkinson giggles. The others are quick to agree and start highlighting all of Evan’s so-called dreamy qualities that will make him a great husband. 

As I sit there I can’t help feeling upset that they aren’t mad on my behalf. 

─ 

Two weeks into the school year and the entire school has been murmuring about what I must have done wrong for my parents to plan to get rid of me so quickly. Of course no one wants to ask me anything directly, and Evan has been feeding the rumor mill every chance he got despite my efforts to limit my interactions with him. My friends act like nothing has happened, having gathered quickly the subject was not open for discussion. 

Walking into the Great Hall for breakfast every morning I catch myself looking for something, though I can’t seem to figure out what. 

In the hallways Evan tries to walk me to class and carry my books or hold my hand. I see girls giggling that he’s such a sweet boyfriend and I want to scream at them he’s not my boyfriend. 

In classes he enchants notes to fly to my desk which only serve to get me in trouble with the professors.

At meals he makes a show of placing food on a plate to give me before making one for himself.

One time in the common room he tried to massage my shoulders.

Every bloody chance he gets, he parades around like the perfect boyfriend, making me look like a heartless villain every time I shoot him down. 

─

A little over a month into the school year and people have finally started to move on, but I still feel the weight of their looks when I’m forced to sit next to Evan in class. He’s nothing if not persistent, never giving up his ostentatious displays of “affection.” 

It’s a Thursday evening after classes and I managed to shake Evan when I disappeared into the library. I have a stack of books up to my shoulders as I move through the shelves back to the table I had secured. I think I see a ruffle of golden brown hair turning one corner as I turn the other, but I brush it off. I hadn’t seen anyone worth studying with in the library yet this year.

I make another sharp turn and stop dead in my tracks. I’m frozen in shock and I don’t know why because I don’t care. It doesn’t hurt my feelings, or make me mad, or even feel like an inconvenience at all. 

Rosie Connelly jumps away from Evan Rosier, who in turn pulls his hand out from under her shirt. When he turns to face me he looks perturbed until he realizes it’s me. He’s quick to smooth a pacifying smile over his face, likely ready to say something truly dense. 

I stare back at him, blankly, waiting for whatever his idea of a good excuse is. 

“Well we’re not married yet,” he finally says with a sort of self-pleased laugh. And that truly does me in. I swing so violently from pissed off to heartbroken that this is what my parents want for me and back in a matter of seconds. Evan seems about ready to say something else despotic when his face suddenly falls. “Oh, shit,” he mumbles, looking past me. 

I turn to see what has been able to elicit a more reasonable reaction from him at having gotten caught making out with someone he isn’t currently betrothed to. Of course it’s none other than Phoebe Parkinson. A rather nice, well-mannered girl in our year who only happens to be the world’s nastiest gossip. 

I let out a dejected sigh. There’s no threat in the world that could keep her mouth shut for more than five minutes. 

Without a word I storm past her, leaving behind a situation that is only going to exponentially complicate the future my parents plan for me. 

I manage to navigate back to my table, set my books down without toppling any of them, and take my seat. It’s only when I hear someone clear their throat that I look up and come out of my numb daze.

Remus Lupin’s golden brown eyes meet mine and I nearly miss the way he subtly licks his bottom lip. He opens his mouth to say something, then pauses as he analyzes my face. His face drops at whatever he thinks he sees, seeming to be suddenly unsure of himself.

If he isn’t going to say anything, I will. “What do you want?”

He cringes. Okay, maybe it came across a bit harsher than I meant. 

I take a steadying breath. “Forgive me, how can I help you?”

“Dove, you look like shit,” he says bluntly. I gape at him. 

“Well excuse me, it’s not everyday the bastard my parents are forcing me to marry is caught feeling up some Hufflepuff slut by the world’s nastiest gossip,” I snap at him. 

The shock on his face satisfies an angry part of me. A part of me that just wants to lash out at everyone for how bullshit the whole thing is.

Another part of me, the part that cares about Remus, the part that remembers he called me his friend, feels a bit kicked. 

I suddenly struggle to meet his eyes anymore. Instead I choose to stare down at my hands. It feels a bit cowardly to tear into him then turn in on myself. 

I see his hand move in my view, coming close to but not quite touching my hands. 

“What do you say we get out of here? Get some fresh air?” He offers quietly.

“Er─ yeah that sounds nice,” I choke out. Remus hesitates for only a second before loosely wrapping his hand around my wrist. It’s merely a guiding touch, but I could cave at how gentle it is. 

I’m vaguely aware that Remus is guiding me toward one of the courtyards. My thoughts spiral as I wonder what my parents will have to say about the latest development between me and Evan. Would they break things off with his parents? Would they blame me for not playing his blushing bride to be? Would they continue to punish me and make me uphold the arrangement? What would people say about me if I still had to marry him? What would people say if things ended? What would my parents say if people began to pity me because of this?

“Would you like a bit of chocolate, dove?” Remus interrupts my racing thoughts as he guides me to sit on a bench next to him.

I look over to him. My friend. 

“It may not solve all your problems but it can certainly make them feel less daunting,” he explains.

“I think I might be sick, actually,” I say weakly. 

He frowns at me. “Maybe not, then.”

We sit in awkward silence for a few moments. 

“So it’s true? What people were saying about your parents making an arranged marriage with Rosier’s parents?” He finally asks.

“Yeah…”

“Did you even like him?”

“No.”

“Why would your parents make you marry him?” He sounds frustrated on my behalf.

“We make an advantageous pairing,” I murmur the same response I’ve given anyone else who has ever asked. 

“The bloody hell does that bullshit mean?” He scoffs.

“It means I only got an acceptable on my divination OWL,” I say so softly he may not even hear. The way his brow furrows tells me he heard and is still miffed. “I’m a failure and an embarrassment to my family. The only success I can find in my future is as a house-wife, serving an actually great wizard.” My words are void of emotion, merely an echo of the vitriol that was spewed at me by my parents. 

Remus looks actually hurt by what I’ve said. I give him a smile I know is nowhere near convincing.

“Dove, please don’t tell me you actually believe what you’ve just said,” he says, cautiously. 

“What does it matter if I believe it or not? What choice have I ever had? I must do proud by my family. I had one chance to prove myself and I wasted it. I can’t embarrass them like that again, but now Rosier’s gone and soiled everything.” I feel absolutely hopeless. 

“A passing grade on a tremendously difficult test is not an embarrassment. Your family is bloody insane if they truly believe that.” Remus sounds exasperated with me and I hate to think I’ve let down someone else.

“You lied, Remus,” I whisper.

“You have infinitely more than just one chance to prove yourself, you have a million every day,” he continues, ignoring what I’ve said.

“You lied,” I murmur again.

“Your family should be embarrassed for saying such backwards things about your future success,” he grumbles.

“Remus…”

“And if they truly think Evan bloody Rosier is meant to be a greater wizard than you? Well. They are─”

“You lied!” I nearly shout at him. 

Remus looks offended at my outburst. “I’m quite certain I’ve done no such thing, not to you anyhow, but please do enlighten me.”

“You said it would be okay if I wasn’t perfect. You said things would turn out okay.”

He seems at a loss for words.

“It’s not okay, Remus. Things are very much not okay,” I get choked up as tears well in my eyes.

“Oh, dove,” he sighs. Before I know it he’s pulled me into a hug. The dam inside me breaks and I begin to sob into his shoulder. He holds me closer.

Eventually I begin to calm down, at least enough that Remus pulls away and begins to wipe my tears. 

“Darling, I’m terribly sorry that things are looking dreary, but I don’t believe for one minute that this is truly to be your destiny.” He pauses. “In fact I know that things will turn around for you because you are strong and capable and a very, very powerful witch.”

I look up at him, feeling forlorn. “I don’t feel strong and capable and very, very powerful, though. I feel… defeated.”

Remus pulls me into another crushing hug. There is one thing that I am becoming very aware of and that is how powerful of a hugger Remus is. He smells like cinnamon and firewood and with how firmly he holds me I feel as though I can relax and I won’t completely fall apart. He rubs circles between my shoulder blades and I nearly melt into him. 

“You are not defeated,” he whispers to me in a serious voice. “I simply will not allow it.”

I pull away to look into his honey brown eyes. They hold so much warmth in them. 

“You take your time, build yourself back up. But don’t you for one minute give in and accept your parents words as the truth. You are too wonderful to succumb to their hate.” I try to stop the tears that spring back into my eyes. “James and Sirius and I will help you, you know. With anything.” I give him a weak smile and start to politely brush it off. “No, I’m serious. Anything you need, dove, we’re here for you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble.

The dinner bell starts to chime. I clear my throat and start to gather my things. 

“I suppose I should probably─”

“If you’d like to, we could─”

Remus and I speak at the same time. We pause and a grin wiggles onto my face.

“I─”

“Sorry─”

We do it again and I can’t stop from laughing at us.

Remus’s eyes shine with mirth as he mimics zipping his lips shut.

“No, you go ahead,” I urge.

“Well I was just going to offer if you’d like me to grab James and Sirius and we could have dinner together, maybe out here even.” He seems uncharacteristically shy as he asks. I consider what it might mean to skip the Great Hall and all the rumors it will be turning tonight. It’s very tempting, but I’ve never been one to back down from some hearsay spread by bored teenagers. And I certainly don’t want anyone to think I’m hurt over Evan’s actions and hiding from them.

“I really appreciate the offer, and it is very tempting, but I should probably face the music.” 

He seems dejected for only a second before masking it. “Right, I understand.”

“My friends likely have plenty to say about matters and avoiding them doesn’t usually go the way I’d like,” I further explain. 

“Of course. I can certainly relate to that.” He gives me a knowing smile. 

He starts to reach for his own bag. “But perhaps─” I stop myself, uncertain of what I even want to say.

Remus watches me expectantly. When I don’t say anything further he prompts me. “Perhaps…?”

“Perhaps we could─ you, me, Sirius, and James that is─ well… We could meet out at the lake after dinner?” Suddenly I’m the one who’s gone shy. 

An almost smug smirk seems to settle onto Remus’s face. I fear for a second he’s going to make fun of me.

“That sounds great, dove. I’m sure they’d love to.” The smile he gives me is genuine.

“Great,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. I don’t know why I’m suddenly nervous. “I’ll see you out there after dinner, then.” 

Remus nods in confirmation. “I can’t wait.”

We stand to part, me to go clean up before going to dinner and him likely to go find his friends. 

“Oh, err─ just one request if you will?” I ask before he can walk away.

“Sure thing.”

“Maybe don’t tell a bunch of people?” He looks confused at my request. “I’m sorry I know it’s a bit strange, but I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea considering what Rosier’s been doing.”

“Ah, I see. I’ll make sure to stay discreet and let the boys know to do the same.”

“Thank you, Remus.” We share an almost conspiratorial smile before finally departing.

─

Dinner seems to take forever as my friends pointedly avoid bringing up what the whole school is already talking about. Evan sits further down the table than he usually does. I think him a bit cowardly for not trying to talk to me about it, but I also appreciate that I don’t have to deal with him just yet. 

My friends start toward the Slytherin common room after dinner, as is our standard routine.

I catch Andromeda and Narcissa’s attention. “I’m actually going to go back to the library to study a bit more before bed today.”

They share a confused look. “Oh, okay. Would you like us to join you?” Narcissa asks.

“No, that’s okay. I think I just need some space tonight. Might try to draft a letter to my parents,” I explain. I tug at the sleeve of my robe. 

“Right, of course. It’s good to keep up with them,” Andromeda says, treading lightly around the idea of me telling my parents what happened today. 

“You know where to find us if you need anything,” Narcissa offers.

“Thank you, I’ll be fine,” I promise before departing.

I make my way out to the lake without running into anyone I fear will be keeping track of my whereabouts.

I don’t see the boys anywhere yet so I settle down under a tree and practice levitating a branch. I’d left my book bag back in my dorm, otherwise I would take the time to pull out my divination textbook that I’ve been studying extra hard since we got back. 

“There she is, the prettiest Slytherin princess,” I hear Sirius say from somewhere behind me. I turn to him with a scowl. 

“Aww, don’t worry, darling,” James coos as he walks next to Sirius. “You’re the only Slytherin princess we care about.” Him and Sirius laugh at his stupid joke and I roll my eyes at their antics.

“I’m not a bloody princess,” I grumble as they sit on either side of me.

“Sure you are, dove,” Remus says as he sits across from me. “Doesn’t make you a ‘simpering girl in need of a man to save her,’ just makes you special.”

“If that’s how you feel then I cannot relate to you at all, princess,” Sirius starts. “I am most definitely in need of a big, strong man to save me.” He pretends to faint, falling into Remus.

“Oy, pester Jamie with that hero shit. I haven’t got the time.” Remus pushes him off. 

“Hey! What’re you volunteering me for? I’ve saved his ass enough times already, I’m nearing my limit,” James argues. 

“What the hell? Who’s going to save me then?” Sirius asks, pretending to be outraged.

They each glance at me.

“Well I suppose I could spare a bit of time to save you, but my time is precious to me so I expect to be fairly compensated for my heroic efforts.” I try to play along, but I’m not entirely sure I’m doing it right.

Sirius grins at me. “Why yes of course. I don’t suppose some chocolate frogs would do the trick?”

“Five chocolate frogs and two cauldron cakes,” I counter-offer.

James laughs. “Is that the going rate for princess-saving these days?” He jokes.

“I’m afraid it is, though I hear it goes up for each occurrence,” I explain.

“You drive a hard bargain but considering my limited options I suppose I have no choice. What’s a princess to do these days?” Sirius laments dramatically. 

“Damn, if I knew I could be getting sweets out of you for saving your ass I would’ve been cashing in on that this whole time,” Remus quips. 

The evening continues on with wise-cracking banter and the boys sharing silly stories about each other. I try to share my own stories in return, but it becomes jarringly apparent to me that me and my friends have significantly less fun outside of class than the boys and their friends. I try not to think so hard about why we’re all so serious all the time.

All the while that we’re talking, James picks at and fiddles with the grass. Occasionally, he switches to picking at a scratch on his arm, and Remus gently guides him back to playing with the grass. I think they think I don’t notice, so I don’t say anything about it.

At some point, Sirius’s hair starts to go a bit everywhere, frizz making him look a bit frantic. He keeps trying to brush it out of his face, but I can tell it keeps bothering him still. 

I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but suddenly I ask if he’d like me to braid it back for him. Each boy wears their own look of shock at my offer and I worry I’ve crossed a line.

Once the shock passes, Sirius’s eyes go round and he just nods in response.

I have a spare hair-tie on my wrist, so I move to kneel behind him and start combing through his hair with my fingers, gently working out the couple of tangles I snag on. His shoulders start to sag as I work my fingers through his hair, so I continue to comb through it a couple moments longer than necessary. 

James and Remus are talking about one of their assignments they haven’t quite finished that’s due in a couple days, but I focus in on Sirius’s hair. It’s quite soft, and very thick. I notice that Sirius doesn’t try to make any conversation with James or Remus as I work on french-braiding his hair.

I can’t help feeling almost sad as I near the end. I liked the excuse to be close to him.

As I secure the hair-tie at the tip of the braid I let him know I’ve finished. He lets out a sad sigh. I move back to my original spot, although maybe a bit closer to him still. 

He gives me a glum smile. “No one’s ever done that for me before,” he explains, softly. “It felt quite nice.”

“How long have you been growing it out?” I ask, matching his tone. 

“Last three years or so. It practically grows overnight, though.”

I reach out to fiddle with the end of his braid. He leans closer to me in response. I study the contours of his face. It really is a nice face. Part of me wants to cradle it between my hands. My eyes drift down to his lips and I wonder what they might taste like. I look back up into his piercing grey eyes and try not to betray what I was just thinking about. 

“Christ’s sake, James, quit picking at your arm,” Remus exclaims, breaking Sirius and I out of our reverie. 

Sirius and I look over to where James has started to make himself bleed just a bit.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t notice I was messing with it again,” James says, looking stressed. Sirius gives him a sympathetic look. 

Remus mutters under his breath, exasperated, as he digs around in his bag before pulling out a bandage. 

“I’m sorry, Remus, I really didn’t mean to,” James insists as Remus gently presses the bandage over the re-opened scratch on his arm. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. Just try to stay more aware, yeah?” Remus speaks softer this time, giving James’s hand a reassuring squeeze. James nods.

Sirius asks them about the assignment they’d been talking about when I started braiding his hair, swiftly changing the conversation to more navigable territory. 

The rest of the night seems to go on without a hitch. The sun eventually sets and the stars are bright in the sky. 

I start to feel sleepy, but don’t say anything, not wanting my time with the boys to come to an end. In the end my yawns betray me, and Remus calls it a night on my behalf. They walk me back into the castle before bidding me a good night as I go toward the Slytherin dorms and them toward the Gryffindor tower.

─

I’m fixing my hair for the night at the vanity in our dorm when Andromeda breaks the silence. “You were gone quite a while, is everything all right?”

“As much as it can be,” I reply. “Sorry if I worried you, but I feel better after having some time to think.” 

“It’s okay, we understand,” Narcissa is quick to say. 

“We heard about what happened in the library this afternoon,” Andromeda speaks plainly. Narcissa looks shocked that she brought it up.

“I figure most people would have by now,” I say neutrally. Andromeda moves to stand behind me and look at me in the mirror. “Look, Andy, it’s all fine. Really. You both know I didn’t want to marry him anyway. I don’t know what my parents will have to say about this, but I can tell you one thing for certain, I am not marrying that lowlife.”

Andromeda holds my gaze in the mirror before giving a sharp nod, then going to finish getting ready for bed.

Later on as I lay in bed I can’t help but remember the night my parents told me about the deal they had made. 

─ 

“It doesn’t matter if you love him or not, you don’t even have to like him, but you will be cordial and respectful. Your future relies on it now,” my mother spoke harshly to me. Then she instructed me to get dressed for the gala we were attending that night. “Do up your makeup, too. The Rosiers will be there and you’ll want to make a good impression as Evan’s new bride.”

I nearly gagged hearing the word “bride” uttered in relation to Evan Rosier. I remained composed and replied with the proper “yes, ma’am.” 

The dress my father had picked out was truly horrid. The seams were itchy and the fabric clung to my skin in a way that made me sweat. It was the kind of dress that made me look older than I am, something that my mother would wear. I did my makeup in a way that I thought matched, but it felt heavy on my face. 

I came out when my parents called out that it was time to leave. My father inspected me carefully. “Fine,” he said, sounding bored.

At the gala my parents forced me to socialize with nearly every person there. For the most part I was there to be seen and not heard. I listened to the grown-ups drone on for ages about politics and the economy and snide remarks they pretended didn’t count as gossip. 

Eventually I managed to sneak outside, under the guise that I was using the women’s powder room. I hoped the fresh air would do me some good, maybe give me a bit of strength to power through the rest of the horrible evening.

“Not having fun in there?” A familiar voice asked. I turned to see James Potter. I hadn’t realized he was here tonight. In fact, I hadn’t realized anyone Hogwarts-aged was here besides me and Evan. I gave him a confused look. “I mean, it’s always been my dream to be paraded around like cattle,” he joked.

I let out a weak laugh and opened my mouth to say something but nothing came out. 

“I’m sorry, you’d probably like to be alone right now, I can leave.” He starts toward the door to go back inside. 

“No it’s okay, you were here first. I can go back in.”

James pauses next to me. “I don’t mind the company if you don’t,” he offers. I consider him for a moment before deeming him harmless.

“I suppose as long as you’re sensible company,” I tease.

We stand together in silence for a moment.

“I know it’s a bit different, running into each other here, but you seem a bit… despondent tonight,” he says hesitantly.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve uh… Well if I tell you you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” I really shouldn’t trust him while I feel so vulnerable but the look in his eyes convinces me I can.

“Is everything alright?” He asks, taking a step closer to me.

“I really don’t know,” I admit quietly.

“I won’t tell a soul,” he swears.

My brows furrow and I can’t stop my lip from quivering. James takes another step toward me.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he offers.

“My parents are forcing me to marry Evan Rosier when we graduate,” I whisper. 

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Oh… I see.” I give a small nod. “I think I would feel rather despondent myself if I were in your shoes.” 

“I feel… as though a great axe has cracked into my chest and everything that I am is pouring out and every move I make to stop it the axe just tears into me more.”

“Oh, darling,” James says so softly it tears through me in a twisting pain.

“Please, James, you can’t tell a soul about this,” I nearly beg him. “I know that people will find out soon enough, but I just need some more time to come to terms first.” 

He nods in reassurance. “I understand. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you.” 

We take in the night air for a few moments. The full moon is bright in the sky. James seems to revere it with disdain. 

“I know why Evan and I are here tonight, but not you. It seems everyone else is at least fifteen years our senior,” I say after a while.

“My dad is considering selling his business, I’m meant to be helping him scope out prospective buyers,” he explains. “Not so sure I’ve got his business acumen, or that I’m quite the right fit for modeling his product.” He gives me a goofy smile as he further ruffles up his hair. It somehow doesn’t look any more or less wild than before. I can’t help but smile back. “Usually my mum can help him charm the room, but she had to stay home tonight.” 

“Is she feeling alright?” I ask politely.

“No, yeah, she’s just fine. Sirius came down with a cold, though, and my mum wanted to stay home to take care of him.” 

I give him a confused look.

“Sirius, he… well he ran away from his parent’s last summer and he’s been staying with me and my folks since,” he clarifies. 

“Oh, I see.” I had known Sirius had run away from Regulus, but I didn’t realize he’d been staying with James’s family. “It sounds like he’s very lucky to have you and your family.”

James gives me a sad look because just like Sirius he understands. He looks like he’s about to say something, but I don’t know if I’m entirely prepared to hear whatever it may be.

“I should probably head back in,” I say quickly.

“Right, I should probably find my dad,” James agrees.

─

The next morning at breakfast I walk into the Great Hall and my eyes catch on the Marauders over at the Gryffindor table. Sirius’s eye catches mine and he gives me an encouraging smile. 

Evan sits next to me at the Slytherin table and I entirely ignore his existence. 

History of magic is my first class for the day and when I take my seat a note falls seemingly from the ceiling. It’s on a different type of paper than the notes Evan sends me, and there’s only a handful of other students in the classroom, so it's not flashy enough to be Evan. I peel it open to find an invite to meet at the green houses after classes, signed by James, Remus, and Sirius.

I quickly tuck the note into the pocket of my robes, but can’t help the smile I wear throughout the day, waiting for my rendezvous with the boys. 

─

I don’t know what to expect when I get there, but the boys are already waiting for me.

“What’s this about then?” I ask as I approach.

“It’s about having a bit of fun before you give yourself a hernia,” Sirius jokes.

The boys guide me through preparing a prank on the plant Evan has been growing for his herbology assignment. 

“This is so wrong, we could get in so much trouble for this,” I complain.

“But not if we don’t get caught, so move quicker, darling,” James says.

“Don’t you lot have another friend who usually helps you pull these foolish shenanigans off with?” I ask.

“You mean Peter,” Sirius confirms. “He’s been all head over heels for his new girlfriend Mary and she’s convinced him that pranks are childish.”

“They are childish,” I argue.

“Then why’re you helping?” Remus teases.

“I really shouldn’t be,” I start to set down the packet of seeds that I’d been sprinkling into the pot of Evan’s begonias. 

“Oh, but princess, he really deserves it,” Sirius says as he wraps his hand around mine to make me pick up the seed packet again. A jolt of electricity shoots up my arm from his touch but I do my best to ignore it.

Several moments later I have thoroughly spread grass seeds into the soil. James reaches around me to pour some sort of quick-grow potion over the seeds. His chest brushes against my back and I pick up on the way he smells like fresh-cut grass and lemon verbena. I nearly lean back against him to smell more of it.

After our prank has been executed Remus places Evan’s pot back on its shelf exactly as it had been. Tomorrow when he comes to class he’ll find his begonias have turned a sickly brown and become overwhelmed with weeds. We sneak away and go a roundabout way to the castle so it doesn’t look like we’ve just come from the green houses.

A part of me knows that I really should split off now to go study, but I’m having so much fun with the boys that I walk with them through the castle as they banter back and forth, giving each other silly dares. I’ve lost track of time when the dinner bell rings, and I realize that I really should depart from them now.

Back in the Great Hall I take my usual seat and try not to look too happy. It becomes all too easy when Evan sits next to me again. 

Andromeda scowls at him and Narcissa gives me a nervous glance. 

“Will you just talk to me?” He asks, frustrated.

“What, like how you were talking with that Hufflepuff? I don’t think so,” I snap.

He clenches his fist around his fork. I don’t have to look around the table to know that we all pick up on it. 

“I don’t know why I even tried with you.” He rolls his eyes.

“I never asked you to,” I said coldly.

“It’s not like I asked either, you know.” My eyes dart around the table to see that everyone is listening very closely, while pretending to be focused on their meal.

With a sigh I turn to face Evan. 

“Then you should be glad to hear I won’t marry you.” His jaw clenches and I wait for him to blow up at me. He glances around the table himself to see all eyes on us. 

With a scoff and a muttered “whatever,” he storms off.

─

That night I toss and turn in bed before accepting that I won’t be getting any sleep anytime soon. I slip out of bed and pull my sneakers on. Something draws me to the night sky tonight and I want to get as close to it as possible, so I decide to sneak up to the astronomy tower. As I approach the landing I hear soft voices, and I worry there’s a class being held. I move quietly up, curious to see what’s going on. When I poke my head through the doorway I’m shocked to have run into familiar faces.

“Is that dovey?” Remus asks from where he sits, leaning against the half wall. I glance behind me, confused if he means me. When I look back he’s got a tired smile on his face. James is lying between his legs, resting his head on Remus’s thigh, and Sirius is wrapped around his arm with his head on Remus’s shoulder. They’re altogether a big tangle of long limbs and cozy embraces.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was up here,” I say quickly. It must be too loud because Sirius quickly shushes me. He then points to James’s face and I realize he’s actually asleep. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry,” I whisper. 

“S’all good,” Remus mumbles. “He’s probably already too heavily asleep. We’re lucky he isn’t snoring.” 

I let out a soft laugh. Remus and Sirius observe me and I feel awkward under their scrutiny. I’m just in an old pair of flannel pajamas. Thankfully the air hasn’t turned to crisp yet, but up this high a chill settles over my skin. 

Sirius tsks when he notices me rubbing my arm. He untangles himself from Remus and sits up a bit straighter. “C’mere, princess. I’ll keep you warm,” Sirius offers, holding his arm up for me to presumably sit next to him.

It must be the exhaustion finally wearing on me that has me lowering my inhibitions, but I sit next to Sirius albeit a bit stiff. He wraps his arm around me and jostles me a bit to lean into him. I can’t help the yawn that escapes me. With his other hand he reaches up to nudge my head until it's leaning on his shoulder. 

“What’re you doing up this late, princess?” Sirius asks. 

“M’not a princess,” I argue.

“You’re too pretty not to be,” he argues back. 

I’m taken aback by his words and am too tired to think of a witty response. “What’re you lot doing up this late?” I ask instead. 

“Tomorrow night’s a full moon,” Remus says on the other side of Sirius, as if it’s a perfectly logical explanation. 

“Does that make it a good night to stargaze?” I ask for clarity.

“Makes it a good night to be alive and not in pain,” he grumbles.

“What…?” I’m at a loss of words, entirely unsure how to respond.

“See that bright one, right there?” Sirius interjects. I accept his redirection without complaint considering Remus sounds like he might be about to fall asleep too and could be saying any sort of nonsensical things. 

“That one?” I point at the brightest star in the sky.

“Yeah, that one. It’s mine,” Sirius tells me.

“It’s yours? How’s that?” 

“Well it’s named after me.” His voice is mirthful as he says it.

“Being named after a star and having a star named after you are two very different things, Sirius,” I joke. 

“Nah, one and the same to me,” he teases back. 

“Whatever,” I murmur. My eyes start to droop and I can’t help leaning on Sirius just a bit more. A bit of his hair tickles my face and I notice the way he smells like sandalwood and violet. It feels safe, here with the boys.

Sirius says something back to me but it’s a distant, muffled sound as sleep pulls at the corners of my consciousness. 

I don’t know how long I’m asleep before I’m being gently woken up by James who kneels in front of me.

“Hey, there she is.” He gives me an encouraging smile. I give him a confused look and try to blink away the hazy edges of my vision. 

“Come on, princess, we ought to get you back to your dorm so you can have a proper sleep in your comfy bed,” Sirius says and I realize that I’ve been sleeping practically on top of him.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry.” I push off him. James helps me to stand up, then reaches down to help Sirius up. “How long have I been asleep?” I ask, stretching out a slight crick in my neck. 

Sirius glances at his watch. “Maybe half an hour. I was fighting to stay awake myself when Jamie woke up and started complaining about his back.”

I look up at James who makes a guilty face.

“Oh, don’t blame the poor boy,” Remus coos. “The concrete floor must not have been very comfortable.”

“Well why did he lay down like that in the first place then?” Sirius chides.

“It had felt comfy at first,” James says shyly.

“Please, you just wanted to be between Moony’s legs,” Sirius laughs. James and Remus both look shocked and glance nervously at me. My brows furrow in confusion. “Ah, shit, I didn’t mean…”

“Didn’t mean what?” I ask. Suddenly I realized just how comfy the boys had been laying together before I interrupted. My cheeks flare up. 

“Dove…” Remus seems hesitant to say anything.

“Are you guys… what exactly were you guys doing up here?”

James’s winces and glances to Remus.

“Nothing like that, Sirius was just joking,” Remus says carefully.

“But you guys are comfortable together like that? Aren’t you?” They glance at each other, unsure how to proceed. “Were you guys on a date and I interrupted?” I ask, slightly horrified. “I am so, so sorry. I should─ I should go, I can’t believe I ruined your night.” I start to rush away.

“Wait, princess,” Sirius calls out and just manages to grab my wrist to stop me. It’s not a tight grasp, just enough to get my attention. I look into his grey eyes that seem to reflect the starlight back at me. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he promises.

“But you all were on a date?” I press.

He hesitates.

“I wouldn’t─ I won’t tell anyone.”

He glances behind me at Remus then back to me. 

“Yeah, we’re… The three of us…” Sirius doesn’t seem to know how to say it. 

“We’re together,” Remus says finally. Sirius drops my wrist. I move so that the three of them are all in front of me.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize any sooner,” I say, laughing at myself. They seem relieved by my reaction.

“Well that’s kind of the point,” James giggles.

“Oy, don’t be cheeky,” Remus chides. They all pause to observe me before seeming to all come to a conclusion. “Thank you, dove.”

“What for?”

“For… not freaking out, I guess,” Remus clarifies.

“Oh, well I mean yeah. The three of you are clearly happy together. I’m… I’m glad that you have each other.” They each give me a winning grin. Something pangs in my heart to realize they’re all already taken, and so clearly happy together, but I try to brush that off. 

“We should get you back down to your dorm,” James says after a moment.

Remus and Sirius are quick to agree and even though I want to argue I can get back to the dungeons on my own perfectly fine, I agree to let them walk back with me. A selfish part of me just wants to spend more time with them, even despite what I’d just learned.

─

Over the next month I find myself spending more and more time with the boys. Always in private, invited by an unsuspecting note. It doesn’t feel weird like I worried it might now that I know they’re all together romantically. In fact, it actually feels more right the more time I spend with them. 

About a week after Evan was caught macking on the Hufflepuff in the library, I got a letter from my mother that simply said the engagement was off. I don’t know how they found out as I never had written them, but I don’t question it with them anymore. That night the boys and I celebrated in their dorm by gorging on sweets from Honeydukes. Evan thankfully left me alone after that and would only occasionally interact with me, similar to before the engagement. 

If my friends thought my distance from them lately was weird they never gave any indication. Andromeda would inquire about my whereabouts, but I easily brushed it off as needing time to study in the library. 

Occasionally the boys will rope me into a silly prank, but for the most part we meander low-traffic areas of the castle and talk and play weird muggle games that Remus teaches us. 

Whatever weird emotions I had felt about learning that the boys were in a relationship together had worn off quickly. It must have merely been a bit of jealousy that they found something that made them happy, when I had almost been trapped in something that would make me miserable. 

─

The morning after a late night escapade to the lake with the boys I make my way to potions class. I’m barely staying awake, but excited for the day’s lesson. When I walk through the door I see that Amortentia has been written across the blackboard.

The whole class is abuzz while we work to brew our potions, everyone excited to see if their potion will work. Slughorn carefully supervises as we mix and stir. This is one of the classes I share with the self-proclaimed Marauders and I keep a careful eye that they don’t do anything tremendously wrong, but Remus is very careful in following the directions. I notice each of them stealing glances my way in turn.

Eventually, Slughorn makes his rounds to inspect our completed potions. Andromeda and I get the highest score in the class.

“Now do share with us what you can smell,” Slughorn instructs.

Andromeda goes first, leaning in to carefully smell our potion. “Hmm… It smells like cedarwood,” she pauses to smell it again, “juniper berry… and pineapple!”

“Ah! How exciting,” Slughorn proclaims. “And you?” He prompts me.

I lean over the cauldron to inhale deeply. “It’s very clean smelling,” I start. “And also florally, I’d say like violets and cut grass.” I breathe in again. “And it’s a bit… err─ I can’t quite place it,” I explain. I force myself to keep my gaze on Slughorn while the whole class watches me.

“Very good.” Slughorn gives a sharp nod. “Fifteen points to Slytherin.” 

He turns then to the table next to us and everyone’s attention shifts. I can’t help but glance toward Remus, who’s already staring straight at me.

He knows. 

Bloody hell he knows.

He knows that Sirius smells like violets and that James smells like cut grass.

Merlin now he’s going to think I’ve got feelings for his boyfriends. 

But it's worse than that because the last thing I could smell was cinnamon. Cinnamon like how Remus smells like cinnamon. 

Because I’ve got feelings for all of them.

[staybabblingbaby]

Best Friend Protocol #14 (Team Meeting part)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: You're Felix's childhood friend, and you and he have been planning a visit to see him for his birthday for what feels like years now. Unfortunately, SKZ is a very busy group, and the week-long vacation you'd planned for doesn't seem possible.Until Felix decides to ask his bandmates a favor...

Word Count: 2672

Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! ALL HAIL THE LEGENDARY FIRST WRITTEN PART OF BFP! I meant to have this out over a week ago, but it's here now! I will be attempting to get a regular chapter out here shortly to fulfil my promised 4 november chapters. Wish me luck! Huge shout out to one of my beautiful beloved betas, @brbwritingfanfic for taking the time to make sense of this damn thing lmao. I appreciate you spotting all my errors, you a real one <3 For those familiar with my archive style and curious, this is A3D2 for this chapter. It was kicking my ASS. If enough folks are interested I don't mind releasing the other attempts, but BFP is a bit divorced from the usual archive proceedings, so I'll leave that up to y'all. I actually really loved how Felix's character came through here, and i'm pretty pleased with how the dialogue turned out. My poor fiance had to sit through like 5 separate rants about how i could not roll back the details enough and kept having to scrap dialogue so it sounded less like AI attempting classical literature.

Warnings: She/Her Reader. Sort of? Polyamory negotiations. More like, the possibility is tossed out there.

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks

Additional Note: I'm always taking interaction requests. Just fyi

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part (coming soon!)

The meeting goes something like this;

They pile into the living room of his and Seungmin’s shiny new dorm without discussion. It makes Felix both nervous and grateful. They’ve always had these meetings wherever Chris happened to be, before. It feels like an unspoken declaration of allegiance. Like they’re letting Felix take the lead, here.

The pressure is kind of getting to him already, as they all settle in. He doesn’t even know how he feels about it all himself, making a decision doesn’t seem like something he should be in charge of right now.

Still, he’s grateful. They’re being so mindful of him in this, and he kind of wants to cry about it. He feels seen, and loved. A bit too seen, maybe, but as embarrassing as it is he’s still a bit gooey inside about it.

Felix drags a beanbag over to where Hyunjin has settled on the couch, plopping down to lean against the other man’s legs. A hand automatically goes to bury itself in his hair, like an anchor against Felix’s stormy thoughts.

The grounding warmth of one of his best friends soothes Felix as Chris calls the meeting to order.  

“So!” Their leader casts an inquiring gaze around the room, “Who wants to start? Where are we at right now?”

A few glances are cast Felix’s way, but he tips his head back against Hyunjin’s knees to avoid their eyes. Everyone must get the message, because no one prompts him.

Jisung is the one who eventually bites the bullet, and Felix sends a silent ‘thank you’ to his birthday buddy.

“Well, I’d like to clarify everyone’s, like, goal in this?” Jisung puts forward tentatively, “Because I’m at the point where it’s more of a ‘I’d like to get to know her’ thing than a ‘I want to date her’ thing.” he shrugs to himself, “I haven’t talked to her much yet, I just think she’s cool.”

“I’m a little bit smitten,” Changbin admits from across the room. He gives Felix an apologetic grimace, but all Felix can do is wave him off with a worried smile. 

“We talked for quite a while the other day and, I dunno... We clicked? I guess? I feel like we did, anyway. I kind of want to see where that could go if we let it.” 

Changbin sends an almost appealing look to Felix as he speaks, and honestly? Super awkward for Felix right now.

Because, see, Felix’s first instinct is to get super defensive and shut everything down. He doesn’t really want to be talking about this, and it scratches at something delicate and boyish in him that they’re having this discussion at all.

It’s embarrassing to know that the feelings he’s kept so close to his chest for so many years are out in the open. It feels a bit like a betrayal that this meeting is about the fact that most of his friends have feelings for the girl he’s had a crush on basically his whole life, instead of planning how to get him to stop being stupid about said crush.

It’s just... Uncomfortable. On so many levels. An ugly monster wants to tear out of Felix’s throat as he locks eyes with Changbin, but a light scratch at his scalp from Hyunjin stalls the beast.

Right. Felix reminds himself that these aren’t any old friends. These aren’t just some acquaintances he could burn bridges with, or strange men he had to protect his angel from.

No, these were his brothers, the people he’d shed blood, sweat, and tears with. The men he’d lived with, grown with, the guys who’d seen more of him than any other person in the world.

Felix finds it in himself to spare Changbin a strained smile. He means it to be reassuring, but he’s so tangled up in his thoughts right now that it’s the best he can offer. The older man seems grateful for it anyway.

He turns his gaze up to Hyunjin, the catalyst of all this, and Felix’s current rock in the storm. He tries to keep in mind how much he loves these people as he moves the conversation forward.

He has to hear them out, at least.

“Thoughts, Hyun?” Felix gently inquires. 

Hyunjin briefly presses his lips together, gathering his thoughts into words. 

“I’ve been pretty open in my flirtation from the start, I think.” he finally says, “So I guess I’m more surprised that anyone else is? Surprised, I mean.”

Felix has to hand him that one. For all that his ‘no flirting’ rule had been mostly a joke, it did mean that he’d expected them to flirt with her. 

He wonders what makes things different now? He’d been okay with the flirting when he’d thought everyone was just joking around, has anything really changed now that he knows it’s real?

Felix sits with that thought while Minho throws his two cents in.

“I don’t think surprised is the right word,” their second eldest ponders aloud, “I’m personally more... worried about how this might work out.” He draws the words out slowly, like he’s tasting the flavor of them before he speaks.

It’s off-putting to hear Minho speak so cautiously- he’s usually so blunt with his words. 

“I’m more worried about how this will affect us as a group,” Minho admits, “I mean, I like her, she’s fun, but I don’t want her if it’s going to cause issues among us.”

And the older man has a point. Anything that causes discord in a group like theirs is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially something like this, where a misstep could lead to long-term resentments and jealousies.

Felix feels pressured by the group’s regard for him all over again. One word from him, and he knows it all ends. The moment he says he can’t handle this is the moment that the rest back off. The emotions won’t fade, Felix knows, but they’d do it anyways.

Because they love him.

He loves them right back.

“I really like her,” Seungmin pipes in, face blank. His eyes cast toward the floor for a moment, before rising again to meet Felix’s. “I really like her,” He repeats, “I don’t know that I would be okay with letting go without trying.”

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and nods at the younger man. His head tips toward his lap while he thinks, brow furrowing as he loses himself to his tumultuous thoughts.

It helps to hear everyone’s feelings put so bluntly, Felix thinks. Having everyone’s stances laid out clearly like a map in his mind’s eye. 

Han, who’s not invested but interested anyways.

Changbin, who’s probably in deeper than he’d really like to be.

Hyunjin, who’d been open about his intentions from the start.

Minho, who the fact that he’s even considering her means more than Felix thinks the man realizes. And yet, he’d give her up at the first seed of discord among the group.

It’s kind of heartwarming, when Felix thinks about how much love their second eldest had shown them with those words. 

Finally, there’s Seungmin. A man whose compliments are hard earned, and whose feelings are closely guarded. A man who’d just handed Felix his heart on a silver platter, trust and love etched in every word, spoken and not.

Felix’s first instinct is still to shut them down. His clouded heart tells him to scoop up his angel and hide her away like a dragon with its hoard. To claim her as his and his alone, and feel slighted if anyone tried to contest that.

But that’s not fair. Not to his members and not to her. Not even to himself.

They’d shown him respect and care every step of the way, the least he could do is give them more than a knee-jerk reaction.

“Is it really all that complicated?” Jeongin ponders aloud.

Their maknae looks almost bored from his armchair, staring at them all. His furrowed brow gives away his worry, as does the way he allows Chris to pull him into the elder’s side with an arm around his shoulders.

“I mean, it’s up to her in the end, isn’t it?” their youngest continues, “she’s the only one that can really make a final call.”

“Could we handle that?” Felix finally speaks up. It’s a little scary having everyone’s attention snap to him like that, but this is the crux of the matter, he thinks.

“If she chooses one of us, could we handle that?” he elaborates.

A contemplative silence descends over the room. Felix kind of wishes he could peek into the member’s brains at this moment. He wants to know if they’re as worried as he is, if they’re worried about the same things he is. 

Because, quite honestly, the more he thinks about it the less he really minds if they flirt with his angel.

It’s taken him this long to untangle the ugly knot of emotions in his chest, and he still can’t see all of it for what it is, but the core of it all, he thinks, is fear.

He’s afraid that, at the end of it all, he’ll be left behind. That he’ll lose two of his very best friends, his favorite people in the world, to each other.

He doesn’t think he could handle that.

It’s an unjustified fear, Felix knows. His bonds with all of these people, the seven present in the room with him and one halfway across the world, are stronger than anything. Forged in fire and elastic with time, he’s sure there’s nothing that could ever truly break them.

That doesn’t stop anxiety from creeping up his spine.

Felix lets his eyes wander around the room, landing on each of his members in turn. It’s like something in him believes that they could guide him in this, just by looking at them, the way his gaze lands heavily on each of their forms.

Hyunjin’s hand drops from his head to knead at the base of his neck, and Felix feels himself soften. A little bit of the anxiety drains from him at the comforting touch, and with it gone he can see something new under the miasma of fear and uncertainty.

It’s bright, like hope, and a bit more exciting. A giddy little thought bubbles up with it-

“What if she chose more than one of us?” Han beats him to the punch. His eyes flick between them all anxiously, looking very much like the rodent he’s nicknamed for, and when he’s met with seven confused stares and Felix’s suppressed grin, he starts to babble.

“I- I mean, we’ve all shared partners before. Like, sexually, at least. I just- I mean- We’re not strangers to sharing, is all I’m tryna say!” Han explains himself.

His shoulders rise up to cherry-red ears under the weight of their stares. Minho places a calming hand on his thigh, even as he pokes holes in the other man’s claim.

“We’ve never shared romantic partners though,” He points out, annoyingly reasonable, “That’s a completely different thing.” 

“I’d be willing to give it a shot,” Hyunjin shrugs when all eyes turn to him.

He was, admittedly, the last of them Felix had expected to back the idea. Hyunjin was the most romantic of them all, and the least likely to indulge one of them in sharing a partner or two.

“I love you guys, and I really like her,” Hyunjin states plainly, “I don’t see an issue with it.”

“So.. what? We try for, like, a.. polycule kinda thing if she wants?” Changbin questions. He scrunches up his face in concern at the concept, pointing out, “That feels a little unbalanced, doesn't it? Is it fair to hinge the whole thing on her?”

“It's going to hinge on her whether it's fair or not,” Jeongin interjects, “You all have crushes on her, not on eachother.”

“I just don’t know how comfortable I can be with that,” Changbin explains, “There’s one of her, and currently six of us. I don’t think it’s humanly possible for her to split her time enough for all of us, and it’s really unfair of us to expect it of her.”

“It could be a good thing, though,” Han argues, “None of us have the time to dedicate to a relationship how we should. Having more than one of us to turn to could be a good thing.”

“Okay, but you’re all forgetting something very important in this hypothetical,” Jeongin stresses the word, making pointed eye contact with his hyungs, “situation. She has to agree to it too. We can’t make a decision without her.”

Felix can't help but be proud of their youngest for reminding them of y/n’s place in all this. It’s not like they’d forgotten, but it was a good reminder anyway. It did feel a bit icky to be talking about their relationship with her like it was a foregone conclusion.

“I’m just saying!” Han proclaims, throwing his hands in the air, “It’s a possibility that we should be open to if it happens!”

Finally, Chris loudly claps to get everyone's attention and forestall any oncoming argument.

“Oh-kay!” he enthuses, “Let’s refocus. Show of hands, are we okay with everyone flirting with her if they want to?”

All hands go up, none of them opposed to anyone else shooting their shot. Felix pretends like all eyes aren’t on him as he easily raises his arm.

“Alright, next” Chris pushes on, “Do we think we can handle it if she chooses one of us?”

Hesitant murmurs sound around the room at this, but Felix has come to an understanding with himself during this meeting, so he speaks confidently when he says, “I think we’ll be okay.”

His words seem to reassure the others, and a ripple of agreement and gentle ribbing starts circling the room.

“Alright,” Chris nods to himself, interrupting the wave before they could get started with any mischief. He really does know them too well.

“And finally,” he starts, an indecipherable expression crossing his face, “show of hands, who’s alright with the poly thing if it comes to it?”

This subject is more divisive, Han, Hyujin, and Felix’s hands going up, but Minho and Changbin stay quiet with worried faces. Seungmin holds his arm out in front of him with his thumb held out sideways. When questioned, he just says he’s not sure how he feels about it yet.

“We’ll circle back on that later, then.” Chris decides, “I think that’s one of those things we need to be unanimous on.”

Agreements sound out, and the atmosphere relaxes. The evening quickly devolves into an impromptu game night, the group quickly descending upon Felix’s console games like a pack of hyenas.

Felix gets up to switch the TV over to his switch, intentions of strong-arming everyone into playing Mario Party in mind. Chris grabs him by the elbow as he walks by, nodding over to the kitchen. Felix follows him over, already unbearably fond. 

“You sure you're good?” Chris asks lowly, “You've been her friend the longest, and we quite literally thought you were dating her already for a while there. They'll back off if you ask, you know.” 

Felix nods, smiling softly at their leader’s care. “I'm good I promise.” he swears, “I meant it when I said I liked it when my favorite people get along.”

He turns to look through the doorway back at the living room. Despite the strange and personal nature of their conversation, jokes and laughter flow easily now. As if there was never any tension at all. 

Felix can feel himself practically melt as he looks at them, a sentiment he knows their leader shares.

“It would hurt,” Felix admits, “If she chose someone else. But there’s no one I’d trust to hurt me more, y’know?”

Chris doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. He squeezes Felix’s elbow gently as the younger dives back into the chaos, and Felix knows he’s been understood.

Worm List <3 :

@thatgirlangelb , @hyeon-yi, @velvetmoonlght, @missvanjiii, @hanniemylovelyquokka, @vegetablesarefuntables, @scribblesnsketches05, @kkamismom12, @alexateurmom, @baribaaari, @tayla2351, @heart-trees, @unicornwhisperer666, @aalexyuuuhm, @stilldontknowhoiam, @brbwritingfanfic, @kaciebello, @ririzisblu

Perma Tag List <3 : @mbioooo0000

[itsonlyjoseph]

The First Time You Met | Joseph Quinn x Reader

synopsis: short one-shot of meeting Joe at the pub

warnings: None, English jargon

word count: 1.5k

.

.

.

You were sat at your desk working quietly when your co worker knocked on the wood as if it was a door, getting your attention easily.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asked you.

“Uh, nothing I guess. Go home, open a bottle of wine and watch the telly til I fall asleep.” You smiled up at her, as if that was the high life.

“Oh come on, it’s Friday. Come out for once.” She practically pleaded with you.

“I don’t know. I’d have to get home and change and then come back in. Where do you even want to go?”

“You don’t have to go crazy, we’re only gonna’ be at the Churchill.”

You thought for moment. You hadn’t been out with your friends in a while and you definitely needed a break.

Your vibrator needed a break.

The Churchill Arms was a lowkey pub that didn’t require you to dress up too much. In fact, you’d look a bit silly if you did.

“I guess I can come.” You mumbled.

Eleanor, your co worker, squealed at your agreement and gave you a tight hug around the shoulders.

“Oh, my god, yes! This is gonna’ be so much fun. We haven’t seen you out in actual months.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been that long.”

“It has.”

You narrowed your eyes up at her in a mock offence.

“We’re heading over right after work so make sure you’re ready.”

“Okay…” you mumbled as she walked off.

You liked your friends and you liked going out, but you also like going home, putting on your big socks and getting under a fuzzy blanket with the fireplace going.

You weren’t a loner or anything, you were just comfortable being single and having no responsibilities other than yourself.

You’d made it this far alone and you were proud of yourself. It felt good to do whatever you wanted and eat whatever you wanted for tea and decorate your house however you wanted.

Something you never admitted, however, is sometimes on very rare occasions, you did feel a bit bored or lonely when you had no one to talk to about your day or your nightmares or the latest film you just watched.

Soon, five o’clock rolled around and you packed up your things and haphazardly shoved them into your purse, walking down to the lobby to meet the others. You were wearing your typical work clothes. Casual, black knitted jumper and brown plaid trousers with some maroon Mary Jane ballet flats that cost more than you should’ve paid.

Luckily for you, your place of work was very casual and easy going but “casual and easy going” in London probably meant something different to the rest of the world.

The pub was already relatively busy considering it was a Friday night but not so busy that it was practically a nightclub. This is how you liked it.

You got a table close to the back and sat as one of your other co workers went to the bar to get the first round. The atmosphere was easy going and after a short while, you felt yourself actually really having fun. The conversation flowed easily. You’d poked fun at your bosses and horrible clients, talked about upcoming projects, talked about guys (much to the dismay of the lone male co worker amongst the group), and everything in between.

After the third round of lager was brought back to the table, Eleanor leaned over to speak quietly to you.

“I don’t want to alarm you but there’s a really cute guy looking at you.” She giggled.

You rolled your eyes and paid no mind to her. Like you said before, you were quite content being a singleton.

“No really, I think you should probably chat to this one.”

You decided to entertain her and turned your head to this alleged man checking you out.

You made eye contact and felt your breath get sucked out of your lungs.

That’s fucking Joseph Quinn, you thought.

You turned back to Eleanor with a somewhat dumbfounded look on your face to see her clearly excited one.

“I doubt he is looking at me of all people.” You said, taking a large gulp of your pint.

“Dude, he’s not stopped looking at you. Even when you went up to the bar.”

“Surely not.” You were suddenly ten times more shy than before.

“Surely yes, go talk to him!” Eleanor urged. The rest of the group was completely oblivious to your conversation, too engrossed in their own. Not that you minded.

“I can’t just go talk to the Joseph Quinn you idiot. I’ll choke and trip and just make a fool of myself in someway.”

“No you won’t. You’re always so hard on yourself.”

You were now very aware of the celebrity and it was making you feel small… and hot.

“Okay I have an idea. Take a deep breath, glance over and smile and then grab your coat and go for a fag. See if he follows.”

“This is so stupid.” You said, taking a deep breath. Obviously you knew who Joseph Quinn was. You never really gave it much thought but definitely thought he was attractive, just like every one else.

“Just do it!”

“Fine!” You gritted through closed teeth.

You took the last gulp of lager and grabbed your coat, walking towards the beer garden, but not before shooting him your best smile you could muster up.

Your eyes connected for a brief moment and you felt your spine tingle.

The air outside was chillier than when you’d arrived at 6pm.

You leaned against the brick wall and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Even though Eleanor had practically kicked you outside, you would’ve stepped out for a smoke at one point or another.

You were outside for about two minutes alone with the other drunks when the back door opened and out stepped Joseph. You could tell it was him even through your peripheral. He just had aura about him.

Slowly walking over to you, he pulled out his own smoke to pop between his lips.

“Hi.” He said with a sweet, bashful look.

“Hey.” You smiled shyly.

“Do you mind if I pinch your lighter?”

You didn’t say anything, just shyly getting your zippo out of your pocket and flicking it open, igniting the end of his cigarette and ignoring the thumping in your chest.

“Thanks.” He said, moving his head back slightly and taking a long draw.

There was short silence between the two of you until he spoke up again.

“I’m Joe, by the way.” You smiled down at you.

Wow, he was incredibly attractive this close.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeated, not breaking eye contact. “What do you do, Y/N?”

“I work in television, actually.”

“Oh really? That’s really cool. So do I.” He seemed rather excited.

“Yeah, I know.” You giggled.

“Yeah, I figured you probably did. I guess anonymity isn’t really an option for me anymore.” Joe seemed rather tense now. Perhaps he was hoping you didn’t know who he was and he’d have a real conversation for once.

“Probably not. But hey, it’s not like I’ve never been around a famous person before. I do work in television after all.” You reassured.

“So what exactly do you do in television.” He asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m a production manager.”

“Oh wow, what have you worked on?” Joe asked you, gazing down at you.

“Uh, I worked on Fleabag, Broadchurch, a show called Sherwood. Couple things like that.” You began to get shy again. Here you were, telling a famous actor about your boring job, probably the pants back on him.

“What do you have to do exactly when you work on a show?”

“Well, I basically organise location, actors, crew, funding, marketing, all that sort of stuff…” you began to explain and Joseph looked actually genuinely interested. This never usually happened. Whenever your friends dragged you out and you began chatting to a guy, he always seemed so bored when you spoke about your job.

Not Joe, though. He was listening intently and asking actual questions and sometime during the time you’d been speaking, you both stubbed out your cigarettes and he’d stepped closer to you.

You only realised how long you’d been talking when Eleanor popped her head out to tell you they were leaving now.

“Oh, uh yeah. I’ll be right there.” You said to her before turning back to Joe.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise how late it had gotten.” You smiled.

“Yeah, neither.” He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I actually had a really good time talking to you, though.” You said sincerely.

“Yeah, me too.” He smiled back.

There was a beat silence as the two of you just looked at each other. You gave him one last smile and turned to walk back inside to your friends, silently praying that he’d ask for your number or offer to walk you home or at least something.

You’d almost made it to the door when you heard Joe swiftly turn on his heal and call out to you.

“Can I have your number?” He asked, rather frantically, like he’d almost missed his shot.

You turned back to him with a small, shy smile.

“Yeah.” You giggled. “Okay.”

[syntheticavenger]

Let Him Loose (Preview)

As promised, here is a preview of what I am working on. A slow build to be sure but it's been a while since I posted something and I'm still working on closing up some fics but life has been extremely busy!

I'll also be responding to those in my inbox - I didn't forget you, I promise!

Dennis Baker x Female Reader

Word Count: 925

Warnings: None for now, just some world building.

-

He keeps his eyes on the road, lifting a shaky hand to bring the insulated mug to his lips, swallowing down a sip as an 80’s synth pop song plays faintly in the background. Dennis has always been a nervous sort but today he’s much worse for wear, talkative at first about his new promotion until the city became a distant past, the highway stretching longer than before, his silence almost unnerving. His fingers grip the steering wheel tight, a cheerful commercial breaking through as you strain to listen to it.

“Come on down to Delilah’s Discount Deals! Where there’s something for everyone,” the upbeat spokesperson invites before the music starts again.

Enough is enough.

Your boyfriend’s jaw is clenched so tight that you wonder if he’ll break a tooth, placing your hand on his over the gear shift as he looks down under his clear framed glasses.

“Hey,” you begin, seeing him smile for a scant second. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he answers, his eyes going back on the road. “Why?”

“Because you’ve barely said two words since we left?”

“Sorry. Just got a lot on my mind.”

His phone alerts with another incoming text message and then another before he exhales loudly.

“She won’t let up,” Dennis says forlornly. “I’m driving as fast as I can. Why they need me there before tomorrow is ridiculous, it’s not like we’re part of their plan.”

He accelerates slightly, your fingers pressing into the plush leather armrest as he begins to slow.

It’s not a secret that he doesn’t want to see his family for the holidays. He’s been putting it off for months – years even – but a promotion, even one that he had excitedly told his parents, had been a cause for a celebration that ended up becoming mandatory, by his family offering to host you both for the holiday, not taking no for an answer.

There’s not much you know about his family. Ever since you started dating, he’s been careful to navigate how he speaks about them to you. It wasn’t the best upbringing, that much you know as he’s shared that much. He grew up poor, bullied for his glasses and calm demeanor, ostracized for leaving the small town he grew up in for a scholarship for college and never looking back, let alone to visit. His parents, Dennis had told you, were proud people – proud of who they were and where they came from.

It was obvious that Dennis didn’t agree and knowing how stressed he was, it didn’t make sense for you to push the issue, not when you knew that topic is one he still tries to avoid.

“We don’t have to go,” you speak up, Dennis shaking his head slowly, eyes still on the road.

“That won’t go over well. Just better to get it over with.”

“Dennis,” you admonish, seeing him reach for his coffee again. “They’re your parents.”

“I know. They’re gonna love you, you know.”

As much of a comfort as that gives you, it’s the sadness in his voice that almost feels envious. Still, you don’t press, quietly looking at the window as the trees whizz past.

“You don’t seem excited.”

“I’m not,” he answers matter-of-factly, picking up his phone to glance at the text message before he places it back down, a look of dread appearing on his features.

“What is it?”

“My brother will be there.”

“Oh?” you ask, watching him take another gulp of coffee. “You haven’t seen him in a while, right? Sounds like a family reunion.”

“I wouldn’t call it that but sure.”

“What’s your brother like?” you ask, trying to get him to open up. Whatever the text message was, it didn’t please Dennis in the slightest, seeing him turn the phone face down in the cup holder.

“The favorite.”

“The favorite?” you repeat, Dennis still looking straight ahead, his fingers flexing slightly.

“Yeah.”

That’s all the response you will get, you realize, Dennis giving a short shrug. You know nothing about his brother, only that he has one, something muttered when you were first starting to date but the subject was dropped quickly.

“He’ll like you,” he says, almost bitterly. “You’ll like him too.”

“How do you know?”

You sound accusatory but you don’t mean it. Dennis seems so resolved that he’ll be cast aside that you find yourself getting defensive, as if he doesn’t believe you won’t be on his side.

“Because he’s the rugged type. I’ve seen the books you read,” Dennis chides with a slight smile that is gone before you can appreciate it. “He’s like that.”

“Books are books, they aren’t you,” you remind him, flashing him a smile. “Those books don’t have your self-deprecating jokes, your thoughtfulness and care. You know that.”

He smiles finally – a real smile with a flash of pearly white teeth – before he settles back into his seat.

“Just promise one thing,” Dennis says after a short pause, slowing to look at you for a moment. “Stay inside when it starts to get dark when we get there. Probably a silly superstition but it’s important. Promise?”

You want to make a joke but you know better, especially with how serious Dennis has become again. You’ll ask your questions later, when he’s not so agitated.

“I promise,” you recite.

“Good,” he says with a sigh of relief. “My family loves their traditions, Ari even more so. Let’s just ease you in slow so you don’t get overwhelmed.”

“Who is Ari?” you ask.

“My older brother.”

[dat-town]

so high school

Characters: Woonhak & female reader

Setting & genre: high school au, fluff

Summary: Woonhak decides to confess right after graduation before he loses his chance.

Warnings: nothing if a bit of cheesiness (and calling out Taesan) doesn't count

Words: 1.4k

Author’s note: happy bday to our giant baby! based on the prompt “wait, you knew?” “you haven’t exactly been discreet…”  from here; work title was just obvious, so i ended up using the Taylor Swift song instead

Woonhak was going crazy.

He lost sight of you after Jaehyun shoved a huge bouquet of roses into his hands and insisted on taking a picture with ‘his baby’ because he was so proud that this day finally came. Woonhak however had bigger problems than taking terrible graduation pictures with him being half-distracted and his hyung’s dramatic ass looking like he was on the verge of crying for real. Sungho, being the supportive friend he was, still tried his best to take pictures of them until Woonhak decided he had enough.

“Okay, great, thanks, hyungs. Can you like… leave?” He blurted out, the words not coming out right in his hasty frustration and while Sungho was left speechless with a widened mouth, Jaehyun put a hand on his chest and faked a gasp. “I mean, to the BBQ place, jeez. I will catch up with you quickly. I just need to… uhm, do something real quick.”

There was no way he would tell his friends what he was about to do. They already babied him, god forbid they knew that he was about to confess to the girl he had liked the majority of his senior year. They would go on and on about how fast he grew up and all that. Or even worse! If you rejected him, they would turn the teasing into pity and comfort which would have been somehow worse even if appreciated. So no, Woonhak didn’t want anybody to know what he was planning not until, hopefully, he got himself a girlfriend he could brag about.

“Alright, but if you are late we get started on the food even if it’s your big day,” Jaehyun threatened at which Sungho rolled his eyes and thankfully whisked their big mouth friend away before he could further embarrass the tall boy in front of his high school classmates.

When Woonhak was finally left alone, he had his hands full with the flowers he got and a confession to make. He had half a mind to run after the guys to give them the bouquet to take with them but not wanting to lose more time he decided against it and headed to the classroom. Dropping everything he had onto his desk to collect them later he looked around in the room searching for your smile but he could only find some of your friends who were busy taking selfies to commemorate the big day.

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” Woonhak walked up to Kyujin, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He wasn’t sure that’s why or just the question in general that made the girl raise an eyebrow suspiciously at him. He didn’t dwell on it though, glad enough when she answered.

“Yeah, she left with her parents. They have a reservation and now they are running late because of the principal’s long ass speech,” Kyujin grimaced but Woonhak was already halfway out the door by the time she finished her explanation, yelling a quick ‘thanks’ back while starting to sprint down the corridors towards the parking lot.

He was going crazy for real. If he missed you, would that be a sign from the universe that he shouldn’t even try? He had it all planned out (okay, well, he was still a P, so it was rather an idea that came to him before bed the night before), he couldn’t give up like this. After all, he wasn’t Han Taesan for heaven’s sake to miss out on this chance and then turn it into a heart-wrecking love song. He won’t be. He would tell you now how he felt and if you didn’t feel the same way it wouldn’t be as awkward as it would have been if you had to see each other every day afterwards. But he would rather have that no matter how broken he would be than losing touch with you and having to wonder about the what ifs.

It seemed like luck was on his side though because the parking lot was just as crowded as the corridors and a long line of cars was waiting to leave. He caught a glimpse of your hair as you put your flowers into a car’s trunk.

Woonhak called out your name, yelled it loudly for the entire yard to hear when you got ready to get inside the backseat and at any other time he would have been embarrassed for his actions and the attention he got for his behavior but now he had more pressing matters at hand. It was worth it in the end because your movements halted and you turned towards him instead of getting into the car.

Needless to say Woonhak was panting by the time he made it in front of you. He really should have put more effort into his PE classes because his lack of stamina was showing but for that he made up with sheer determination and a blinding smile as he looked down on you.

“Hey, what’s the matter? What happened?” You spoke up with furrowed brows and gosh, you were so cute with confusion and a bit of concern written all over your face, Woonhak wanted to smooch you but he was getting a bit ahead of himself with that.

“Nothing, I just need to tell you something,” he stated, rushing the words out before he could lose the courage he was running on.

You looked at him with big doe eyes, questioning and curious and the boy was seriously so gone because he adored the way your cheeks rounded with a smile or the moles just under your eyes. You laughed even at his lamest jokes and played video games with him until late instead of scolding that he should have been studying. You lended him your notes without him having to ask and hell, he even thought that your handwriting was cute with those doodles you tended to draw in the corners of your notebook.

“Y/N…” Woonhak called your name before he took a deep breath and looked you in the eyes. “I like you!”

He declared it right in the middle of the parking lot in earshot of at least a dozen people including your parents. This certainly wasn’t how he planned it but he didn’t want to prolong it any further or he would have gone crazy for real.

“I thought you would never say anything,” you giggled but Woonhak was too nervous to process it right away.

“You don’t have to answer right now, I know it must be sudden‒” He started before his thoughts came to a screeching halt and his eyes widened like saucers. “Wait, what? You knew?” He gasped and his voice went octaves higher as he stuttered.

“Well, you haven’t been exactly discreet…” you smiled so sweetly but Woonhak’s thoughts had been going back to replay all your interactions. Had he really been that obvious? Was it because he kept giving you his plus one drinks from the corner convenience store even when there was no such discount in place? Or that he carried hair ties with him in case you forgot yours? Or was he staring too much? Too easy on you when you played? Oh jeez, what if he blushed near you?

But if you knew and didn’t say anything, was it because you didn’t like him and he set himself up to failure? Is it the part where you tell him it’s better to stay as good friends? Are you‒

“It’s okay. I like you too,” you said before Woonhak could have hyperventilated and you tiptoed closer to peck him chastly on the cheek. Your soft lips left a tingle in their wake and the boy could feel himself redden.

“Really?” He mumbled dumbly but you just kept smiling brightly.

“Really,” you confirmed and giggled when you heard your father clearing his throat. Oh, right, you were late. Woonhak felt a bit sheepish that he kept you up and hoped he didn’t earn negative points in your parents’ favor as you whispered that you had to go.

“Text me later,” you mouthed through the darkened window after you got into the car and Woonhak felt stupidly giddy, he couldn’t stop smiling even when Sungho called him whining that they would eat up all the meat at this rate. Fortune indeed favored the bold and the lovesick.

[lilmarshie]

A Chance Encounter | B. Barnes x Reader

Entangled Fates, Chapter One

A Victorian Era AU

Y/N - your name

Bucky, a young aristocrat, attends a prestigious ball, feeling out of place among the opulence and superficiality. The lace and opulence was far too much for his liking. He wanted to spend more time outdoors in his element rather than holed up inside attending a party.

Y/N, a brilliant but underprivileged scholar, manages to secure an invitation to the ball through a benefactor, hoping to make important connections for your future. This was going to be monumental for your future career and you were very fortunate to be able to attend such a prestigious gathering.

You arrived promptly at 7pm on the dot, dressed in a beautiful maroon and navy dress, that sparkled ever so slightly in the dim light of the building. The ball was being held in a sprawling home on a few acres. It had a tall, pitched roof featuring brickwork and decorative tiled hallways throughout the home. The home also boasted massive ornate fireplaces in every room, a beautiful front porch, and gorgeous stained glass windows. A butler, was there to greet you at the door, ushering you into the grand foyer and over to two massive doors that led into a lavish but cozy ballroom. There were sprawls of people standing in what seemed to be every corner of the room. Mingling amongst each other, while servants catered to the whims of the partygoers.

Amidst the crowd, you locked eyes with a man who had dark chocolate brown hair which was neatly slicked back. He was dressed in a meticulously pressed dark gray suit that accentuated his features. You locked eyes briefly with this man before turning away embarrassment visible on your face. You knew that you didn’t fit in here but you needed to do this for the sake of your future.

You went to go and grab a place of pastries and a cup of tea to keep your mind occupied. “I don’t need to get involved in whatever this man does. He may be strikingly good looking but I can’t get involved.” You think, as you wander off to a nearby table, the plate in your hands filled to the brim with the delicious treats. You noticed that this man kept his eyes on you the entire time. He began to make his way over to you. “Ahem.” The man says, as you swallow a bite of one of the pastries. “I wanted to introduce myself. I haven’t seen you around before. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.” He says, with a huge grin. His hand was extended to shake hands with yours. You reach over the table and shake his hand with a smile. “Pleasure to meet you, Bucky.” You say, as you shake his hand warmly.

“How are you enjoying everything?” Bucky asks, his hands now clasped in his lap as he watches you intently. “It’s been very nice to be invited here. I never thought I would ever be able to attend an event such as this.” You say, with a wistful sigh. “This is honestly a dream come true. I am but a simple scholar and I have dreamed of a moment such as this.” You say, as you drink a sip of tea that was swiftly brought to you by one of the many attentive servants. “I’m very glad to hear that, y/n.” Bucky says, as he takes a sip of tea as well. His brown eyes twinkling in the low light. He was contemplating whether or not to tell you why he was there before clearing his throat softly.

“How about we step outside to continue our conversation? I’m quite enjoying myself here with you. And I’d love to get to know you better.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his cup of tea before standing up and extending his arm out towards yours. Nodding, you link arms with Bucky’s and make your way outside, into the cold London air. Bucky leads you out into the porch and you sit next to him on one of the benches outside. The dim oil lamps faintly lighting up the space between you.

Over the next couple of hours, Bucky shares with you his thoughts about what’s going on with society, his dreams about the future, and business opportunities that he has awaiting him. You mention that your benefactor has secured the invitation for the ball tonight as well as helped you become the scholar that you are today. Without them, you confessed, you would be in a far worse situation.

As the evening draws to a close, Bucky makes a promise to meet again, with you, at a later date. He takes down your address and with a kiss to your hand, and once more to your cheek, promises to write to you soon. Before disappearing back inside to the swarms of partygoers.

You were eager to meetup with Bucky again however that meeting would occur. James Buchanan Barnes has captivated you in ways that you never imagined. And you were awaiting that moment with anticipation.

Little did you know, that Bucky went home that night happier and hopeful, than he’s ever been.

[stephstars08]

🧡😊Look at that beautiful smile!😊🧡

[cetoddle]

okay. i am going to continue being stupid. and lowkey embarrassing. and a big stupid fucking idiot. i don’t know what’s wrong w me just ignore me forever okay? okay <3

[ellana-ravenwood]

“Batman, you need to-IS THAT A BABY ?!” - Batfam x Fem!reader

Synopsis : Bruce and Batmom bring their newborn daughter to the Watchtower, so she can meet their friends (or vice versa). Includes an overprotective Damian, League members who cannot believe the Batman is smiling, and other shenanigans.  

Oop, I’m back (?). My dudes. It’s been TWO YEARS since I last posted here. Two. Years. I posted like, two life update...don’t know if some of y’all saw it, but long story short : I got married, I have a son now, and everything is going so well in my life that I didn’t really need the validation I got from writing online...Buuuuuuuuuuuuut, I still love writing. And so, after quite a long break, here I am :). Hope you will enjoy this, don’t hesitate to let me know if you do : 

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you.

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

________________________________________________

“You’re evil, you know that right ?” You say, raising an eyebrow.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my love.” He answers, a small smile on his lips. You turn to him and...Oh that smug look, that smug look you loved so much. He definitely DEFINITELY knew what he was doing. 

And that it was utterly...evil. 

“It’s going to be FUN !” 

Ah, and here’s his little devil. Damian himself. He loved this. Partly because he thought it was funny to mess with everyone, partly because he liked showing that you guys were a family. 

“They won’t believe their eyes !” His little voice kept going, followed by a big roar of laughter that sounded, by all means, more childlike than devilish. 

“That they won’t, they always seem so surprised when Bruce acts like a human.” 

Jason. Still not calling Bruce “dad” (except sometimes, by “accident”, and even him don’t realize he did), he’d only slowly been back at the manor, with all of you. And, for sure, a certain important event which happened about four months ago made it so he came back to live at home.

Dick chuckled and added : “Who would blame them ? We’re talking about a man who eats his burgers with a knife and fork !” He gestured to his father with his left thumb, his other hand shielding part of his mouth as if he was telling them all a secret, as if he was trying to be discreet, so his dad wouldn’t hear...Always quite the little clown, that eldest son of yours. With his exaggerated mannerism, and that sparkle in his eyes, in his smile. 

“I’m certain some of them thought he was genuinely a cyborg for YEARS” Tim added, quite seriously, his tone the opposite of his older brother (and that was just his way of joking...you think). And honestly ? Yeah, you were pretty sure some of your friends at the JLA thought your husband was a robot, at one point. 

Oh yes. That’s where you were going, to the JLA’s headquarters. To execute Bruce’s plan. Quite the evil plan indeed. 

“Hell, even I thought he was one before I met you guys !” Duke chimed in, and that made Cassandra smile widely, as she shook her head up and down pointing at Duke as if to say : “what he just said”. 

And in a very Bruce manner, your husband kept a straight face, ignoring his children’s teasing. Only you, saw that twinkle in his eyes, that smile that might not reach his mouth, but was definitely dancing in those bright blue eyes. 

Oh yes. Yes, your friends were in for quite the surprise. 

************

Meanwhile, in the Justice League headquarters : 

“Oh, hey ! Look, Batman’s zeta tube is turning on ! We haven’t seen him in a while right ?”  

Indeed they haven’t. Because, well, let’s put it this way : Batman’s wife just had a baby. 

A baby girl (finally, right ? You and Cass weren’t TOO outnumbered anymore). 

And Batman had been VERY busy doting over his baby girl. 

Batman had been busy being Bruce Wayne. 

Just a man, who thought he’d never be happy again, not knowing how to handle all those feelings he had for his wife (for you), for his children. 

That was happiness then, right ? 

So, yes. Batman hasn’t been much at the JLA’s headquarters lately. But your husband thought, it was finally time to go see his friends a little bit. He knew they were all up there, because it was their monthly reunion (once each month, they gathered to talk about the state of the world, the universe, what threat lingered, what lurked beyond...and to get very drunk, and see their friends, the only ones who knew what it meant to be a “hero”). 

And that what’s made him particularly evil. 

He knew, they would all be there. He knew what their reaction was going to be. After all, his memory was amazing, he definitely hadn’t forgot the way they reacted the first time they saw you, the first time they learned he had children (childrEN, plural !). 

And he knew they were a little worried about him. 

He had missed their last three reunions, and only answered : “Everything is ok” to their messages asking if he was alright (they hadn’t dared to go see if he was indeed ok, because last time they did that, they found him bed ridden with all the bones in his body broken, and he got so mad at them for butting in his business he worked twice as hard when he was fine again, and didn’t talk a WORD for months...that was, of course, years ago, before you were in his life, but the experience was still in their minds and so, they decided to respect his privacy, he would come to them when ready). And he never pushed his “red button”, him, or anyone in the family. 

They just assumed he was busy, they hoped it wasn’t anything bad. 

Yes. They were worried. For him. For you. For your kids. For Alfred. For your dogs, your cats, your cow...They. Were. Worried. 

And Bruce knew. 

You told him, when your pregnancy was confirmed, to tell his friends. That they would be happy. But after his own initial happy thought, his surge of hope and love at knowing he was going to be a dad again, he started to make his plan. 

Why tell them, when you could toy with them ? 

“They deserve it.” He told you, and you weren’t sure if they did, but you weren’t about to fight him on that. After all, you too, thought it could be amusing. Amusing to hide your pregnancy, making up excuses as to why they couldn't come see you, and you didn’t come up the headquarter. Amusing, to even hide it quite expertly from any form of news (Bruce was a MASTER of disguise, not only for himself), so it would be a real surprise. 

Amusing, to have your little girl in secret, with only your family. Amusing, but also what you wanted. For this good news to be just between you, your children, and Alfred. Your close family. Because you had too few things that just were yours. 

This had to be yours. Your thing, your secret, your own happiness. Yours, and only yours. And you found it was good, that you guys spend the first few months of your daughter’s life only between yourselves. 

It was nice, to go out “disguised” as a normal couple, and show your daughter Gotham (and how her little eyes already tried to take the entire world within them). 

It was nice, to live in total privacy for a little bit. 

So, yes, you had been a little selfish. And he had, too. You knew it wasn’t just to prank his friends, he kept it all a secret. That it was also to have some quality time with his family. To spend the first few months of his daughter’s life being the only one being utterly smitten with her. 

Though, this last thing wasn't true...You were, too. And your children ? Let’s just say your daughter had not been alone ONCE since she was born. And she seemed to love it. 

Whenever she made the slightest sound, smiled, laughed (or cried), they were there, Bruce was there, absolutely loving that little baby. 

She was almost 4 months old now, and Bruce thought that the gist had to be up. What scale did he use to measure this amount of “readiness” ? You had no idea. You thought he was just now ready to share his happiness with his friends, and not just his close family. 

And so here you were, after months of secrecy carefully crafted and orchestrated by your husband, in the JLA’s headquarters, along with your family, the little new addition to said family in your husband’s arms. 

Evil. Your husband was downright evil. 

He knew that what was about to happen would have a massive impact on his friends. He. KNEW. 

And as the zeta tube brought all your family up there, you knew that as he saw their faces, your husband was a little TOO happy with himself for his little “prank”. 

************

“Batman, are you al- IS THAT A BABY ?” Very typical, very in character : the first to react was Flash himself. 

None of the other noticed, and they seemed inclined to think Barry had lost his mind but then...

Bruce’s face didn’t move an inch, he just held that little “package”, and had his same stoic expression except...Except there was a little hand grabbing at his chin. 

Then another hand appeared out of that bundle Batman carried, with a bat plushie bunched in a tight fist, shaking it and...Cooing. 

Cute little sounds, and the way- EXCUUUuuUuuuUSE ME ?

The way Batman just softly looked at her, the way his cold expression was replaced by a tender one as he lowered his eyes to her ??

WHAT ?! 

They knew. They knew he had THE softest spot for his family. They knew his scary aura greatly dimmed when he was around his wife and children. They knew that when they weren’t there, he was only made of shadows. They were his light, his salvation. 

They knew he didn’t have the same face expression, when they were around.

Well, when they were looking at him...Barry swore that Batman loomed around his family, standing menacingly behind them, his eyes cold and calculating as if he was ready to fight any seconds to save his loved ones, and then whenever they turned to him his feature would instantly soften. He will ALWAYS remember the first time he met little Dickie, 9 years old and so full of joy and life, and how whenever he would look at Batman and talk to him, said Batman got a softer expression somewhat, but then when Dick turned around, Batman looked about to murder them whenever they came too close from him. 

Once, Tim, also 9 at the time, years after the JLA met Dick, told Barry matter of factly : “He doesn’t kill people. He could break your knee caps though” in a very Tim fashion. The kid was serious. And had noticed the aura surrounding his dad, how it changed when he was around (he noticed more than his siblings, because for a while, Bruce had been really cold and distant with him, since he met him not long after Jason’s death..understandable. So he was the only one who had this sort of behavior aimed at him, the shield Bruce put in front of him to keep everyone away so he wouldn’t be hurt, the shield that now was lowered for them and only them). 

It was his eyes. His eyes that were always hard and cold, became different when looking at you or his children. 

Not to say that his family never exasperated him, or that he never had his “mask” around them. After all, Bruce’s stoic expression was his face by default. It’s just that he was often too focused. And that he spend years practicing hiding his emotions, practicing keeping a blank face. Because Barry also remembered seeing Dick perched on his father’s shoulders, letting himself dangle in his back, his head upside down, whistling and kicking his feet, and Bruce having this stoic mask on, concentrated. 

Anyway, they knew all that. It had been years, since Bruce finally trusted them enough to bring his wife here, and his kids. But yet, yet they were still surprised sometimes.

Like today. 

The picture of Batman holding a baby was...a little weird. 

Even if he opened up to them over the years, he was still mostly very cold, distant and aloof. You know, Batman. That’s just who he was. So sometimes, to see him so devoted to his wife or kids, it was odd to say the least. 

And right now, as he walked towards them with a baby in his arms, the shock was real. Damn it, will there be a day when the Bat didn’t surprise them with something ? 

How did none of them notice you were pregnant ? Proof again Batman was a master of his craft. And that little girl...

Oh your daughter was such a beaming ray of sunshine, that in his arms it was particularly a jarring image. 

The big scary bat, tall, broad shouldered, muscular in every way, his face void of expressions, holding a tiny baby who kept smiling at everyone around, and playing with her plushy. 

Odd. 

Yet, sweet. 

Were they surprised ? Yes. 

Were they a little mad he hid something (AGAIN) this important from them ? Definitely. 

Were they shocked that his daughter was so darn cute and smiling and laughing that much ? Not really, because you were his mom too. 

Were they happy for him ? For sure. 

Were they going to adore that little girl ? Probably as much as they adored his other kids already, which meant...yes. Yes they were going to. 

Damn that bastard Bruce. Always so sneaky. 

Hal, couldn’t help but think : “First, he’s not a vampire, then, he’s married with children, and now, he has that cute baby. This guy ??!!” 

***********

The initial shocked passed, and only after your children MOCKED all of your friends (you had to give it to Dick, he knew how to imitate them so well..and when Damian joined in ? Oh, oh it was a fit of laughter impossible to fight that attacked them), did they approach your daughter. 

“Her name is Martha.” Bruce said “We named her after my mother.” and it wasn’t his usual flat tone he used as Batman. No, it was a soft voice he usually only reserved for his kids. And the reason he was using it now ? Well. He didn’t want to scare his daughter, as he still held her. 

She beamed at him when she heard her name, and babbled some baby nonsense. She then turned towards all those new faces, and you saw Bruce’s hand hold her a little tighter. 

Your beautiful, sweet soul husband. He clearly was worried she’d be scared, meeting all those new people. Especially since they all wore mask. But Martha-

Martha let go of her bat plushy (which Damian caught before it touched the floor, rolling on the ground in a way you thought was quite comedic. Oh, that boy), and lifted her arms up towards- 

“What a sweet little girl !” Diana said with a voice you NEVER heard her use. You realized it was her “voice reserved for babies and domestic animals”, and it made you smile. It was higher than her usual voice, and full of softness. 

You thought your daughter reached for her because she could feel the warmness in your friend. And after all, amongst all of those gathered here today, she was probably the one that adored babies the most. 

Diana looked at Bruce, who only inclined his head a little to give her the ok to lift her from his arms but-

Another arm stopped her, and took the baby away. 

Damian. 

Damian, the one who took his role as a big brother a little too seriously. 

He held Martha protectively against him, and literally sneered at all your friends. 

************

Damian deemed most of them unworthy to hold his baby sister, and only Clark ended up being allowed to carry her. And that was partly because Clark was the only one who knew about Martha, the only one who saw her already, and he had months to convince your son to trust him with her. 

Being an extremely close friend and all, you just couldn’t hide this from him and... no, really, you literally couldn’t hide this from him as he was the immediately noticed that second heartbeat when he listened in to make sure you and your family were safe. Bruce hated when he did that, but Clark wasn’t about to let them be in danger without moving an inch.

Anyway, Clark was allowed to hold her, but he gave her back to you rather quickly because your son’s stare made him uncomfortable. If eyes could kill, right ? 

Damian took his job as an older brother very seriously. He would protect her at all cost. And you had no doubt that he would be the kind of person to burn the entire world down if it meant saving his family. 

Damian only glared at everyone, letting them approach ONLY after they put on a surgical mask so they wouldn’t give her their “viruses or whatever”. 

You had to admit he was a bit much, and you asked him nicely to calm down a little. He relented on the face masks, but made them all wash their hands (twice). 

You ruffled his hair affectionately, what a sweet little boy. It broke your heart, how so many people judged him too fast. He really was, a nice kid. With a heart of gold. He just didn’t have much luck for the first few years of his life. 

But he chose to be like this. Chose to love, instead of hate. Chose to protect, instead of attacking. 

Although, right now, as Diana came back towards his sister, he definitely seems ready to high kick her (which definitely wouldn’t have hurt the amazon). 

************

It was a hassle, to convince Damian to let go of his sister so they could hold her. As per usual, it’s Dick who managed to convince him, saying Martha was all soft and cute, and everyone deserved to hold her at least once. Adding that if one of them dropped her, he would be allowed to do whatever he wanted to them. 

Some of the mightiest heroes of the planet were gathered hear, but the threat didn’t fall on deaf ears. Damian could be a little intense, and scary sometimes. 

They weren’t fooled by Dick’s agreeable smile either. A smile that didn’t always reach his eyes. They knew if they messed up, he would find every way to rip them to shreds. Dick was often seen as the calmest of your children, but his anger issues from when he was a child were never far. And he could be ruthless.  

Diana held her first, and your daughter babbled to her excitedly. 

Of course, being only 4 months old, she just talked gibberish. And it was so sweet, how Diana answered her : “What ? *babbles from your daughter* Noooooo. *more babbles from your daughter* I can’t believe he said that. And then what ? *babbles babbles babbles*”. 

After that, Dick took her back, and asked if someone else wanted to hold her, under yours and Bruce’s watchful eyes. 

Then again, in the room, many were also already parents and knew how to hold a baby. They weren’t too worried, except-

Except Dick, that little sh-, had found a new game in recent weeks. Whenever he gave his little sister to someone else...he pretended to drop her. 

And it made him laugh and laugh and laugh, to give mini-heart attacks to EVERYONE whenever he gave them his baby sister to them, as they always all panicked and screamed seeing her dropped (Dick always had her secure, he only pretended to drop her of course). 

“Oh no careful !” He’d scream, dropping his arms suddenly (she looooved it) while still gripping her, and they’d scramble to catch her, and he would just laugh. 

“You little-” Hal’s colorful words were...imaginative. And Damian was inclined to agree, since his brother pranked him oh, I don’t know, only about A HUNDRED TIMES since their little sister was born. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but it made you laugh a little too. Even if he got you a few times as well, pretending he was going to drop her. Then again, you trusted your eldest son. Once you and Bruce wouldn’t be around anymore, you knew he would hold this family together. 

************

Martha was a calm baby. She let people hold her, curious enough to not fuss and watch them all intently. It made Barry uncomfortable, how she held his gaze and would just stare at him. 

She would stare, and stare, and stare, and her bright blue eyes were EXACTLY like Bruce’s, it felt like being stared down by a miniature version of Batman. 

He didn’t like it. So he gave her back to whomever was closest, which happened to be Jason

Jason, who was always very delicate with his little sister. He handled her as if he’d break her. It broke your heart, to know he probably literally thought that. 

He refused to hold her at first, sure he would hurt her. But she kept reaching for him, crying when he wouldn’t take her, and she was so adorable and-

He caved, of course. After a little while. And he was oh, the fixture of a patient older brother. You knew he would ALWAYS be part of her life, and step in whenever she needed to. 

Right now, she was grabbing his hair, which were getting quite long, and pulling hard on them as babies do and- He didn’t say anything. He just let her do it. 

You really hoped she wasn’t going to take advantage of this when she’d get older, even if you already had visions of her having her brothers and father wrapped around her little finger, having her sister too, and...apparently, the entirety of the JLA. 

************

“How can such an a-hole make such a cute baby ?” Hal said, looking at the little girl he held. She was sort of dozing off, which for sure was adorable. 

Bruce only glared at him, which amused Hal greatly. He just gave him the shock of his life, he could laugh at his expense a little, right ? 

“I believe, to make a baby, you need to-”

“Um, no, Jon, please, I know how to ! It’s just-Oh, forget it.” 

Flustered, Hal Jordan was flustered. Jon J’onzz didn’t seem to get why, but then again, human sarcasms and irony were still very foreign to him. He always answered pragmatically to people. 

Talking about pragmatism. Hal handed back your daughter to Tim, who slipped her in his favorite new contraption : the baby carrier 3.0 (of his own design). Made so he could do all sort of work while having her strapped to him. Keeping an eye on her at all time. 

Tim adopted the use of a baby carrier, so he could still work while taking care of her (he stole the idea from his dad, who definitely hung around with his daughter EVERYWHERE with that thing...which was the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen, this tall broad man and this tiny baby attached to his chest). 

It was so cute to see her little feet dangling while he was working. Damian nearly lost it when he found Tim WELDING two pieces of metal together with the baby carrier on his front. Tim merely said : “I made her baby sized goggles and a fireproof pyjama, she’s fine, and she likes it” and indeed, your daughter didn’t have a scratch, and cried when Damian hauled her away from the sparks. Ooooh the smug look on Tim’s face as his brother gave her back reluctantly. Damian’s was utterly vexed. 

Vexation he forgot just a few minutes later, when Martha decided she had enough of sparkles and made little sounds of protest (not quite cries), and reached her little arms to him. 

As of now, Tim had her in this baby carrier again, and was strolling around the JLA headquarters, showing his new little sister to everyone. 

************

Cassandra didn’t say a word, as per usual. She never liked big crowds, only spoke to those she trusted the most. Her brothers, her parents. 

She only gestured to others. Remained quiet. But she monitored every little movements. 

Hawkgirl approached her sister ? Noted. Carefully studying every move. Martian Manhunter asked if he could hold her ? Noted. 

Superman made little babbling sound at her, while her dad held her ? Noted, with amusement. It was funny, to see one of Earth’s mightiest hero grimacing to a baby to make it laugh, while said baby was held by another mighty hero who was utterly stoned face. Cass’ smiled at her dad, who smiled back for a fraction of seconds before Clark shifted his head up to look at him too, and Bruce went back to his : “ -_-” face, by reflex really. 

Cassandra never spoke much, but she loved a lot. And her way of loving her little sister ? It was to always keep a watchful eye on her, so she could react to whatever she needed. And give her space when she needed to. 

She had many brothers, she often joked that if she lost one, she could just replace him (a joke you didn’t like much, because you knew it was just a self-defense from her, to shield her heartbreak at the mere idea of loosing a sibling), but only had one sister...

Yes. Your youngest child definitely held a special place in everyone’s heart. 

And you could see her slowly creep in every members’ of the Justice League’s heart too. 

Gods, you couldn’t even imagine what would happen to the person who would one day try to hurt her. You could bet, though, he wouldn’t get out of it unscathed (to say the least). 

************

Martha was particularly fond of Duke’s inuit kiss. He had the capacity to instantly calm her, and he could easily feel her inner emotions. 

As she was passed around everyone, and she started to be tired and cranky, he simply retrieved her and brought her to Bruce, because he knew that was her preferred spot to fall asleep. 

He kissed her on the forehead, and sure enough, she was asleep before he could pull away. Your husband put a warm hand on Duke’s head, a warm smile on his face. That boy could always tell what others felt. It was a gift, really, and sometimes a curse as others’ feelings could leak into him. Which is to say that sometimes, when others were sad, he would be too...

But for now, he felt content. At peace. Because his dad was, too. 

And indeed, Bruce, holding his sleeping daughter against his heart, his hand supporting her head gently, was utterly at peace. 

He loved the idea that his arms were his daughter’s favorite place to sleep, and never refused to hold her to help her sleep. You sure were a little jealous, but he told you : “They all always come to you when they need comfort, one kid out of six, you surely can give me, right ?” and though you knew he was joking, it broke your heart a little. 

So, you let go of your jealousy, and let him have this indeed. Martha was definitely a daddy’s girl. And that was good. You could see the impact on your husband, how having a baby in the house soothed him. 

He loved his kids so damn much. He often said they were his lights. And the fact Martha found comfort with him ? 

It reminded him of his own parents. How he would go to his mom, a Martha too, to find the same comfort. To fall asleep in the same way. 

You let go of that small jealousy, as you saw her falling soundly asleep, cuddled up against her dad. And it was funny, how Bruce would take his usual Batman persona, stone faced, standing straight and- 

Having one of two fingers held tightly by both of his daughter’s little hands. She grabbed them as he took her, one hand holding her (she was so tiny...and he was a big dude), the other, she used as a sort of comfort plushy. She held them with all her might, as she slept. 

And Bruce was speaking battle plans, and you had to fight the laughter in you as all your friends couldn’t help but stare at the scene, not knowing how to feel. 

Hal snickered at one point, and he made a gesture for him to zip it, and it was quite an odd scene, as he held his daughter and did that childish gesture. 

Seriously. That guy !! 

************

Batman smiling was...different. 

They all got caught staring at him, when he had his daughter in his arms. Staring because his broad smile was-

Well. Broad. 

It wasn’t his signature smirk. It wasn’t a soft smile. It wasn’t a half-smile. It wasn’t a smile that you could only see in his eyes. 

It was a full on big ass smile (as Barry would say). 

And sure, they already saw him smile like that (although he schooled his face back to “stone mode” when he noticed them looking), never that much. 

As if the birth of his daughter gave Batman another new light, and it was just impossible to yield to his old demon, to brood, when holding that ray of sunshine. 

It made them all feel...soft. And warm. 

It was nice, to know the bat wasn’t just a machine. They forgot it sometimes, that he was, in the end, “just” a man. They forgot why he became Batman. The pain and guilt he held inside. But moments like this, they were reminded of it. 

That the Batman didn’t exist because of hatred, but because of love. 

Because he loved his parents, his city, and now- 

His family. 

It was nice, to get reminded that there was a man below the mask. And though he could be an “a-hole” sometimes, there, holding his baby, he was just that. 

A loving man, who wanted to protect others. 

************

You made a note of every moments you would cherish forever of you introducing your daughters to them all : 

1. The shock on their faces as they beheld the sight of THE BATMAN holding a baby against him, and being so delicate. 

2. Your daughter being the star of the show, all of them smitten with her !

3. Your friends wanting to hold her, and how they beamed at her (and she beamed back, except with Barry, whom she only stared at for some reasons). 

4. Dick’s “game” of pretending he dropped her, and their panicked reaction. 

5. The success of Tim’s baby carrier, and how now, there was always one up in the tower. 

6. Diana and how it definitely seemed like she would move mountain for that child. 

7. How Clark’s eyes filled with tears again, as he looked at Martha. Because it made his friends so happy. You and Bruce. And especially Bruce. And Clark was an emotional man, who suffered too, and was just so happy “The Batman” was happy. 

8. How Jason seemed at peace with his little sister, and how whenever he held her, he seemed less weary than usual around everyone. Like Cass, he didn’t like much being amongst too many people. But now, it felt like he had an “emotional support baby”. Ah. 

9. Their reactions, past the shock, welcoming that new life in the world. 

10. How Bruce monitored his daughter being held by his friends, holding your hand. Even after all those years, when he acted close to you in his Batman costume, it made you...feel things. He always kept a facade as Batman. A facade that would crumble with his kids, and especially with you. PDA weren’t rare. And even after years at his side, it always made your heart beat wildly when he showed affection towards you in public, because it meant- 

Oh it meant so much. 

And you had so many more moments forever ingrained in your heart from that day spend up at the JLA’s headquarters. 

Too many to count. Some sweet, some hilarious- 

All positive feelings. 

And as you and your family stepped back in the zeta tubes, your friends saying “byyyyye” to Martha especially, with their baby voice (making Bruce roll his eyes), and as she waved at them- 

Waved for the FIRST TIME ever oh. 

Oh it felt like you would die of happiness. 

And still, Bruce’s hands held yours tightly. 

He knew. 

He knew, you were the source of this happiness he thought he could never find again. 

He knew. 

He never loved like that before. 

Yes. It felt like you could just die of happiness.

__________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you enjoyed this. Don’t hesitate to comment and/or reblog, it’s always greatly appreciated :). 

Also, initially, the child was going to be Thomas (their son in my “main” storyline, if you already read a few works from me), but last minute, I was like : “wait no, I want to give Bruce a daughter, and the boys a sister. Also, poor Cass eh ?” and here we are. I really hope you liked this; I’m nervous for some reasons. Anyway. See you soon with another one ? 

[notquitecanon]

Keep talking // Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

Summary: Simon really likes your new sundress AND wants to hear about your day. These things can coexist

Tags: established relationship, pretty domestic, yapper wife x silent husband, sunshine x grumpy kinda??? Whatever tropes the kids are saying these days suggestive but not NSFT, dumbification if you really squint, husband Simon Riley, pg-13 at worst

—

Simon was staring at you. Intensely. Him staring wasn’t exactly a new thing, he was a silent creature by nature. He watched, he listened. Especially to you. He loved listening to you.

You’d barely noticed his intense gaze as you flitted about the kitchen of your shared home, putting away the things you’d bought while you’d been out, all the while chittering on about your day, the people you talked to, the things you’d seen, things you’d bought, things you’d almost bought, things you didn’t buy, what you had for lunch, what you were thinking for dinner… And Simon listened like always, absorbing your presence like a plant absorbs sunlight.

Anyone else would have been cowed under the weight of his stare, but not you. Not only were you used to it, you loved having his attention. Every now and then you’d offer him a sweet smile when you looked to him or press a kiss to his cheek or jaw or wherever you could reach easiest as you’d squeeze past where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, absolutely dwarfing the appliances. His face gave away nothing, it never did so you kept talking- yapping, you’d call it jokingly.

“Anyways, that’s when I told her-“

“New dress, love?”

His interruption cut you off. You set down the purse you were unpacking and looked to him as you trailed off.

“Hm?”

Simon kicked off the counter, closing the short distance. It was then you noticed that his eyes weren’t on your face or eyes or even lips, but instead tracing the line of the strap laying on your shoulder.

“‘aven’t seen that one. Is it new?” His eyes roamed to the skirt where his fingers had caught a sliver of the bow in the back, “Soft.”

You cleared your throat as you turned around to face him, “I got it a few weeks ago, since it’s getting hotter, sun dress season and all, but it might be a little much for running around town…guess you haven’t seen it though-“

You cut yourself off again when you felt the tension in the tied back slack. The snapped your eyes to Simon, realizing he hadn’t dropped the bow’s string as you turned.

“I’d remember this one, lovie.” He was still gazing at the hem line appreciatively, where the delicate pattern you loved so much revealed your thighs.

“Well, then it’s new to you.” Your voice was quieter now that you’d realized the specific intensity in his gaze. Simon grunted in response, his large calloused hands resting at your hips. You could feel the roughness and warmth through the thin summer fabric.

“You were saying?” He reminded you with a slight smirk, knowing he’d derailed your train of thought. Cheeky bastard.

“Oh, uh,” You started again, preoccupied with the little circles he was rubbing on your hips, “I told her that, well, that-“

Simon nodded along to your barely coherent dialogue, as if he was listening to a TED talk. Heat was rising up your chest and neck as the solider kept getting closer until your chests were basically flush and your legs were interlocked, your chatting was only slightly better than babbling but you continued choking through your story. Even when he’d slowly moved you backwards so that you were the one pressed against the counter. You hadn’t realized you stopped once again until his brows raised, “that all?”

“Si-“ You all but whined, sharply gasping when he suddenly and effortlessly lifted you unto the kitchen counter, the stone counter chilling the backs of your thighs. Even sat on the tall counters, you still only came up to his broad chest, “We have your friends coming later-“

“And I cleaned up the yard just like you asked, love. Wearing this dress tonight?” Simon questioned gruffly, brushing a kiss first across the top of your head and then leaning down to dust a trail of kisses down your neck.

“What? Probably- but” you stuttered, the heat of his breath making it hard to track the different tracks of conversation.

“Good, does this come in any other colors?” His questions almost fell on deaf ears as he brushed the straps off your shoulders so he could continue his path down your chest. The hands on your hips had traveled first to your knees and were slowly hiking the hemline of your dress up. He paused when you didn’t answer, cutting those sharp eyes up to yours, squeezing your thigh to get your focus back on him and not just his hands. You hummed in confusion, “colors, love?”

“Oh, uh, a couple I think,” you nodded as the squeeze to your thigh turned to a kneading moving further up, “I wanted to try one, but it was hard to decide-“

Simon was sinking to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact, “Keep talking, love. I’m listening.”

Simon was a hard man to say no to, so you kept talking. Jumping from thought to thought as they became fewer and farther between, a hand in his hair to ground yourself as he’d offer questions from between your legs until you could no longer say anything but his name.

___

I wrote this in 20 minutes on an airplane. It’s not proofread nor is it really in character. First time writing for COD but hopefully not the last… we shall see where the hyperfixation takes me

[lowkeyren]

reverse dating tropes w hsr men!

in which — what the title suggests / those classic fanfic tropes but with a twist

featuring — boothill, jing yuan, blade (separately) x gn!reader

✧.* — wc: total 1.5k, used up half my brain for this (the other half is for pt2 w aven sunday geppie!!), lovesick boothill + clingy jy + jealous blade fr, anyway pls enjoy! reblogs r appreciated <3

gepard aven sunday vers here!

boothill ꩜ .ᐟ

love at many sights with boothill whose memory card was tinkered with, and every time you meet, he thinks he's seeing you for the first time, so he falls for you over and over again. 

when boothill returned from a dangerous mission, it was evident that he had endured significant damage. his once sleek and polished exterior was now marred by dents and scratches, and his mechanical limbs were either partially missing or severely damaged. the exposed wiring, usually neatly tucked away beneath scraps of metals, now hung in tangled strands, sparking occasionally with residual energy.

he looked barely salvageable. it's safe to say that the mechanics had a hell of a time fixing him.

though they were skilled enough to piece him back together, his memory card wasn’t as lucky. a tinkering in his system left him incapable of recalling or retaining information in his synthetic brain, temporarily —leaving the mechanics scrambling to find a solution.

weeks later, you find yourself walking down the familiar corridors of the laboratory where your favourite cyborg is being held for reparation.

boothill’s eyes immediately land on yours when you enter the lab. “well ain’t this a surprise! haven’t seen ya in a good long while.” boothill drawls, tipping his hat your way, his voice carrying a metallic twang. 

"i heard you took a bit of a tumble, figured someone should come make sure you didn’t lose all your screws." you shrug nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips.

boothill's eyes flicker for a moment, taking in the curve forming on your lips. he thinks you’re adorable with that infectious smile of yours. 

“heh, nothin’ bad, just had a r-r-run in with some cuties" he says, failing to hide the glitch that caused his voice to stutter. (and that damn synesthesia beacon! he swears he’ll get it fixed this time around…)

“guess you took more than a tumble huh...” you lean casually against the workbench, the sterile scent of machinery and the hum of various devices filled the air; your gaze sweeps over the freshly repaired parts of boothill's metallic frame, “anyway, glad to see that you’re mostly fine now." 

“aww! do ya care ‘bout me?” he teases, his grin widening, revealing his pointy teeth peeking out mischievously. you don’t reply, your eyes glinting with the faintest hint of amusement dancing in them.

"boothill, we go through this every time, your memory card's still damaged. you forget things sometimes, so for the 5th time this week, yes i do care about you.”

boothill's expression shifts, a mixture of realization and sheepishness crossing his features. "right, right," he murmurs, scratching the back of his head with his metallic hand. "sorry 'bout that, sugar. guess i just keep forgettin'."

you chuckle and shake your head, finding the situation amusing. he feels like he might overheat from the sheer warmth radiating from your smile.

“you’re beautiful, date me.” (he didn’t mean to blurt that outloud)

you raise your eyebrows at the sudden compliment, “why thank you,” a surprised laugh escapes your lips.

“—and we’re already dating, silly.”

a shower of sparks erupts from his circuits, you can particularly hear the fans inside him sputter and whir. you rush to his side, concern etched on your face.

“wh- are you okay?! you’re short circuiting again!”

and this happens every time his memory lapses. you offer an apology to the mechanic on the next shift for the extra work required to fix yet another damaged wire after your visits. perhaps they should ban you from getting too close to boothill, lest he completely breaks down again like that one time where you told him, yes you actually kissed before.

jing yuan ୭ ˚.

"secret relationship" with jing yuan but he is completely unaware of how his public displays of affection towards you keep revealing the supposed secrecy of your relationship.

on the rare case that the general is found in his office, you are there too, beside him.

“pleeeease? just one kiss, really really miss you, darling”

“no jing yuan, not now…”

he wraps his arms around you as he leans in, caging you from the back. he rests his chin on your shoulder, “then how about a kiss on the cheeks?” he murmurs in your ear. you try to push him away, but he just chuckles softly against your neck, his arms still secure around you.

“no, and get off me before someone sees!” you protest, feeling your face flush from the close proximity, and the tightening of his arms suggests that he has no intention of releasing you just yet.

this stubborn man… you swear you’re gonna burst a blood vessel someday.

as if to echo your exasperation; he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, peppering it with nibbles and gentle kisses. jing yuan certainly knows how to test your limits, yet his affectionate gestures never fail to chip away at your resolve.

suddenly, a series of loud knocks come from the door, you freeze, and immediately attempt to wiggle your way out of his grasp. but he remains unfazed, his hold on you firm, and seemingly unbothered by the interruption.

the door bursts open, “general! there’s a situation at starskiff ha—ven...”  yanqing trails off as his eyes widen at your position. the room falls into a momentary silence as yanqing's gaze shifts between you and his general, his expression reflecting a blend of shock and embarrassment.

clearing his throat awkwardly, yanqing stammers, "i-im sorry for interrupting... i’ll t-take my leave now!” with a hurried nod, he practically sprints out of the room.

oh bless that kid’s poor eyes… 

you shoot a glare at jing yuan from the corner of your eyes, you just know that he has a shit eating grin on his face right now. nowadays, it’s probably common knowledge that the general’s most treasured person is you, evidently shown by how he latches himself onto you every time you’re within his vicinity. you wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of xianzhou knows about your supposed “secret” relationship.

“so… can i have my kiss now?” 

aeons, he’s insufferable. (you love him tho!!!!!)

blade ؛ ଓ

"fake dating" with blade but you are actually dating —somehow everyone is convinced you aren't.

“blink twice if you need help.” march whispers-shout; dan heng leans against the doorway, blocking the way into your room, nods in agreement.

“this is absurd… i’m alright guys, really!” you try to reassure your friends, frustration edging into your voice. though no matter how many times you insist that no blade isn't holding you hostage and that you are indeed in a relationship with him, they seem convinced otherwise, somehow deducing that you're not able to speak freely.

you sigh in resignation, knowing that they aren’t going to relent anytime soon, and with blade idling in your room, you can't afford to keep him waiting any longer. “dan heng please, let me through, he’s been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes now…”

“good, let him wait.” dan heng responds curtly. (what a guy)

march takes hold of your hands, “do you owe the stellaron hunters something, and him out of everyone?! he looks scary…and totally not your type!” 

“not their type?” a low voice rings out from behind dan heng, the three of you turn immediately and see blade looming at your doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“stellaron hunter. stay back.” dan heng furrows his eyebrows, his stance defensive as he pulls out his weapon, positioning himself to block you and march. sensing the growing tension, you step forward, reaching out to gently grasp at dan heng’s shoulder. 

(blade’s expression darkens at your hand resting on him)

“it’s okay dan heng, he means no harm.” dan heng hesitates, his grip on his weapon remains tight, but he doesn't move to strike. so you slowly move between him and blade, “see? i’m fine… he’s not gonna hurt me.” you smile reassuringly at your friends. 

just then, as if to further aggravate dan heng, blade settles his hand on your waist. dan heng’s hand is visibly twitching now. “what? can’t i touch what’s mine?”

dan heng’s eyes narrow, “...we still don’t believe you, leave now. before it’s too late.”

before you can interject, blade grabs your chin, silencing any words of protest with a sudden kiss. caught off guard, your eyes widen as the unexpected gesture leaves you momentarily stunned. but you soon reciprocate his kiss, his intensity drawing you in.

(march quickly covers her eyes with her hands)

“there. now leave us alone.” and with that, he pulls you into your room, slamming the door shut behind, pinning you against it. 

it’s just the both of you now, finally.

“did you really have to touch him.” his voice tinged with possessiveness. “blade, he would’ve hurt you, i didn’t mean—” he shuts you up with another kiss, more desperate this time, welp guess you’re stuck with him for the night.

though your friends might not believe that a person like you would “be in cahoots” with someone as dangerous as him; convincing them otherwise is a task for another time. tonight, he wants your attention focused solely on him, and him only.

✧.*

masterlist gepard aven sunday vers here!

[caffeinewitchcraft]

Ghost Eater

Summary: You don't like exorcists. They don't much like you either.

-----

You’d always thought big restaurants like the Brownie Industry only did well in small, midwestern towns like the one you came from. A year working in LA has taught you that, no matter where you go, people will always love garlic bread and sugar.

It’s your day off which means you’re pulling a double shift. You haven’t had time to wash your hair for the past two weeks so it’s frizzing out of your claw clip and flying wild around your face. The lighting is so dim that you’ve tripped over two black purses already, luckily not while you’re running food. The big dining room sounds like an apiary with the tittering laughter of the later adult crowd that’s filtered in from the theater across the four lane road. The main difference between the Brownie Industry here and the one back home is size. The ceiling soars overhead, supported by a series of concrete pillars separating the dining area into three sections.

Normally it would be three servers per section. Today, it’s just you in yours.

One more hour. That’s what the manager promised you. It might even be true if the host stand quits seating you after the table you’re approaching.

There are three people at the table. A woman whose hair might be light blonde or gray in the light of day, her eyes light and piercing. Her face is soft from age, emphasized by the tight, lace collar of her off-season sweater. She reminds you strongly of your mom’s nemesis on the HOA board. The man couldn’t be more out of place next to her despite their equivalent age. He’s wearing a leather jacket – again, it’s not cold here – and a Norwegian metal shirt underneath. His hair is definitely white, so white it almost glows. He’s frowning at the teenager across the table as if she’s touched his motorcycle without permission.

The teenager might be the first you’ve seen all night who doesn’t have their phone out. She’s decked out in what you consider grandma florals – a t-shirt scattered with daisy chains, a bucket hat made out of nana’s carpet bag, and a hand-crocheted scarf in pastel.  You can’t really see her face under the shadow of her hat and there’s an odd, blurred quality to the way she fiddles with her napkin. You let your eyes skip past her and back to the two adults. Teenagers don’t pay the bill.

“Welcome to Brownie Industry!” you chirp. You’re sweaty and red but the faded yellow light hides that. You’re a service industry pro so none of your exhaustion shows on your face when you ask, “Is this your first-time dining with us?”

If you weren’t so burned out, you’d have noticed before you introduced yourself.

“Are you Grady?” the woman asks. Her voice is more posh than you expected even with her lace collar. “Grady Pace?”

Fuck. There’s a noticeable temperature differential now that you’re close to them. The restaurant is warm from the number of bodies, maybe even warmer than the summer air outside, but stepping up next to their table feels like walking into an ice rink.

“I’m your waitress,” you say. You don’t have time for this conversation. You’ve got five minutes in your cycle to take their order and then you’ve got food to run. “If you need any other services from me, I have a website.”

“We messaged you,” the man says. His lips thin to the point his thick mustache covers them entirely. “You never responded.”

Because you’ve been making more money at the Brownie Industry than your other job. “I’ll take a look at it tonight.”

“Wait,” the teenager says, sitting upright. She looks from you to the adults and back again. When she smiles, there’s no humor in it. “This is why we drove eight hours to have dinner at the Brownie Industry? For her?”

“Katie, be polite—”

“I’m sorry,” Katie says, “It’s just—I found a priest, you know? An actual exorcist priest and you guys want to trust a waitress over him?”

“Ugh exorcists,” you say. The memory of sour cabbage is so heavy on your tongue that you stick your tongue out in disgust. When you see Katie’s look, you backtrack. “Effective! Definitely effective.”

“Your mistakes have cost us too much already,” the man says, shaking a finger at her. “We are not converting just for an exorcism.”

“I normally don’t agree with your father,” the woman tells Katie, “but in this case I would like to leave conversion as a last resort.”

“We wouldn’t actually convert,” Katie says, rolling her eyes.

“Pretty sure exorcists can tell when you lie,” you tell Katie. When her scowl deepens, you clear your throat. “Did you all need another minute to think about the menu?”

“We need you to help us,” the dad says. He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, I know you’re at work and I’m sorry we’re bothering you.”

“We’re desperate,” the mom says. She reaches for her purse. “We’ll pay you. Triple the rate on your website or even quadruple. We need that thing gone by tonight.”

Katie covers her face. “Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Terry isn’t that bad.”

“Oh, he’s bad, young lady,” the dad says sternly. “A bad influence.”

“We caught her trying to perform another séance yesterday,” the mom confesses to you. She leans forward with a pinched expression. “So Terry’s friend Larry could visit too.”

“Interesting,” you say. The food bell rings, but you think you can ignore it for another minute. You study Katie’s blush. “Why did you do that?”

If she was being compelled, she won’t have an answer to your question. You’ve dealt with a lot of ghosts in your time, but so few are sentient enough – or powerful enough – for compulsion.

“Go on,” the dad says, gesturing at you. “Tell her.”

“Leroy, she’s embarrassed enough,” the mom says.

“No, she’s not, Sarah.” The dad – Leroy – gestures to you again. “Tell her.”

Katie huffs, clearly resistant. But when her dad huffs back, she caves. “So,” she says, “I have this YouTube channel—”

“I’m off in an hour,” you interrupt. You don’t care that you’re being rude. Your patience ran out as soon as she said YouTube. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot.” You turn to go.

“A moment!” Sarah shakes out her menu. “How’s the nicoise salad?”

Of course they’re going to order. They’d better tip too if they want you to help them with their ghost problem.

----.

“You said an hour,” mom Sarah says when you leave out the employee entrance. She’s shivering next to her daughter. Leroy is off smoking behind his motorcycle, parked next to the Tesla Katie is leaning on, but he stubs out his cigarette on the asphalt when you walk up. “It’s been two.”

“I had side work,” you say instead of it would have been one if not for you. You rub your bare arms when the familiar ghost chill washes over you. You want nothing more than to go home and wash the scent of garlic and brownie batter out of your hair. “Was there something wrong with my service?”

“No?”

You try to make your voice light. “I see.”

Sarah frowns at your tone anyway. “Why?”

“You tipped five dollars.”

Katie jolts like a scalded cat. “Mom!”

Leroy scrubs a hand over his face. “Sarah…”

“What?” Sarah throws up her hands. The parking lot lights catch on her Swarovski charm bracelet. “I tipped!”

“Like ten percent,” Katie says. She pulls her bucket hat over her eyes for a beat and then peeks at you from under it. “I’m so sorry. It’s not you, she’s always like this.”

“It was actually a six percent tip,” you say. You’re getting a clearer picture of this little family now. It’s becoming more and more understandable why Katie might have started summoning ghosts. “If you want to be precise.”

Leroy reaches for his back pocket. “Let me.”

Sarah swats at his hand. “We’re about to pay her a lot more than that!”

“For a completely separate job,” Leroy says. He pulls a twenty from his wallet and hands it to you with a grimace. “Sorry, Grady, I should’ve checked.”

“You should’ve paid if you cared so much,” Sarah retorts. She folds her arms over her chest. She taps her cheek and widens her eyes. “Oh wait… you never pay.”

“Sure,” Leroy says. This time it’s his turn to throw his hands in the air. “Sure, Sarah. I don’t pay for anything to do with our daughter’s private school or her dance classes or her health insurance—”

“If the court hadn’t mandated—”

“You make twice as much as me—"

“Guys!” Katie says loudly. Her mouth is a thin line of upset when she says, “Argue about what an expensive burden I am later when we don’t have an audience, okay?”

Her parents speak at the same time.

“You’re twisting my words,” Sarah says. “I never said—"

“Sweetie, you’re not a burden—”

“Can you just get this ghost out of me?” Katie asks you. She goes for nonchalance and falls short. “My parents haven’t been in the same room for the last five years for a reason.” She fakes whispering. “They don’t play nicely with others.”

Sarah bristles. “Katie.”

“God, I know how that is,” you say. The whole interaction is giving you the worst case of sympathy for Katie. Before her parents can say anything else, you change the subject. “How long have you been haunted?”

“Six months,” Katie says. She fiddles with her bucket hat so that you can see her eyes for the first time. They’re brown, like her dad’s, and have heavy bruises underneath. She shrugs. “They only noticed a month ago though.”

“I noticed your behavior had changed,” Sarah defends. Like her daughter, she fidgets. She plays with her bracelet and clears her throat. “I thought it was a teenage thing.”

“What signs did you notice first?” you ask the parents. They glance at each other and then away.

“Let’s just say we noticed different things,” Leroy says dryly. He pulls out his phone.

“Moodiness,” Sarah says. She ticks them off on her fingers. “Laziness. Disrespect. Over-sleeping.”

“Those are just teenager things,” Katie says with an astounding level of self awareness. She shrugs. “I’m a senior now. They’re lucky it didn’t start sooner.”

“I,” Leroy says, “noticed this.” He turns his phone towards you.

“Ah,” Sarah says, “Yes. That.”

You examine the picture. It’s of Katie on a small dirt bike. She’s wearing a helmet in the picture, but you recognize the fashion sense in the floral boots she’s wearing. The scene behind her is of the hills, low scrub brush recognizable to someone who’s lived in LA for the past five years. On the bike behind her is a smudge. It could be a cloud of dirt blown into frame or maybe a camera glitch. It could be if it weren’t for the leering face emerging from the cloud right behind her head.

“I just want to say I did not agree to getting her a motorcycle,” Sarah says.

“Mom, not the point,” Katie says.

“Look how close that creep is to my daughter,” Leroy says. He jabs a finger at Katie’s waist in the photo where you can see a ghostly hand. “I want him gone.”

“Dad, he didn’t mean anything by it!” Katie turns to you earnestly. “Terry never rode a bike before and I thought, like, what if he moved on after he got a chance to? It was a philanthropic effort!”

“Plant a tree if you want to be a philanthropist,” Leroy growls. “I want this guy away from my daughter.”

“He doesn’t mean any harm really,” Katie says. “He would move on if he could! He says he’s stuck to me because of how I summoned him. He’s like, really sorry. He even spelled out Sorry in the bathroom mirror once.”

“What,” Sarah says in a dangerous voice, “was Terry doing in the bathroom with you, Katie?”

Katie splutters. “Mom, don’t be gross!”

The family descends into bickering. You have heard about ghosts being stuck to a person before, but usually that’s when the person has some sort of psychic powers. Katie’s wearing crystal in her ears, but they aren’t charged. She might develop some talent later in life, but right now she’s a normal girl.

The parking lost is nearly empty now. You recognize a few employee cars, but very few customers. The kitchen will be cleaning for another half hour before they’re ready to go home.  The reality is that, if Terry is stuck, you might not be the best way to handle the situation. If he’s not…

Well.

It’s time to talk to Terry.

Opening your ghost sense is hard to describe. Some psychics liken it to a third eye, right in the middle of their forehead. You’ve always thought that sounded really cool like maybe the world gets cast in a blue hue when they do it and the dead appear like they do in movies. You’ve met other psychics who say it’s like a sixth sense. They know where the ghost is and it’s like they download all that information until their minds can just sort of conjure their image.

For you, it’s like letting your body remember it has a second mouth. Cats have an extra sensory organ on the roof of their mouth that lets them detect scents better. Your second mouth is a bit like that. You can still smell brownies and garlic and the city air of LA, but you can also smell/taste something else.

Something like…pepper?

Your eyes water and you sneeze so viciously that your eyes close. When you open them again, four people are staring at you in surprise.

“Gesundheit,” Leroy says.

“You sneeze like Dad does,” Katie says.

“Did no one ever teach you to cover your mouth?” Sarah asks in disgust.

“I wish you would’ve sneezed on her,” Terry says, nodding to Sarah. “She’s such a bitch.”

“Thank you for the commentary, everyone,” you say. You wipe your nose with the collar of your shirt as you consider Terry. It’s dirty anyway. “Terry. Interesting name for a ghost.”

Terry hasn’t noticed that you can see him yet. He’s floating behind Katie, one arm casually flung over her shoulder. It’s hard to place when he died based on his appearance alone. His hair is chin length, emphasizing the width of his jaw. Squire cuts have been popular for several decades and the bowling shirt he’s wearing could either be a modern fashion statement or a dated uniform. He looks to be in his mid-twenties, sun-kissed and with the air of someone who tells a lot of jokes at the expense of others. His arm around Katie strikes you as possessive, the glare he gives her parents venomous.

“I didn’t name him,” Katie says. “He said it’s short of Torrance.”

You blink. “Wouldn’t he be Torri then?”

“That’s a girl’s name,” Katie and Terry say at the same time. Their cadence is so close that it actually sounds like Terry’s baritone comes out of Katie’s mouth. For a moment, his arm flickers, clipping into her shoulder like a bad animation. When it does, Terry’s form grows brighter, more solid. Then Katie shivers and he’s forced out of her.

You and Terry click your tongues at the same time.

You remember how Katie’s hands seemed to blur at the dinner table. Terry’s not just haunting Katie. He’s trying to possess her. You wonder if that’s why Katie looked up an exorcist rather than a simple spiritual cleansing. Did she know how much danger she was in?

“Okay,” you say. You tear your attention away from Katie and Terry for a moment. Business first. “Sarah. Leroy. Who was it that found my site?”

“I did,” Sarah says. She raises her chin when you can’t hide your surprise. “When Katie was looking up exorcists—”

“She didn’t mean it,” Terry says. He pats Katie’s hat. “Right?”

“—I looked up alternative solutions,” Sarah says, not having heard Terry. Her confidence falters for a moment and she rubs her arm. “I have had some… negative experiences with exorcisms. I don’t want my daughter to go through that.”

Katie’s head whips towards her mother. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“It was a long time ago,” Leroy says. For the first time, he reaches out and hugs Sarah with one arm. You don’t know what surprises you more; Leroy hugging Sarah or Sarah leaning into his side. “When Sarah told me, we decided to put our differences aside. I vetted you through some of my contacts and they all agreed you’d be a safe bet.”

“I am,” you say. You’re not bragging either. You’re probably the safest bet in half the western states besides your older sister. “There are some…peculiarities in my method.”

“Charlatan,” Terry whispers in Katie’s ear. He’s grinning now. “Only charlatans are that confident. Look! She can’t even see me!”

Katie looks doubtful.

Usually, you’d try to talk to Terry at this point. Sometimes spirits can be negotiated with. They can be encouraged to move on or to take on a less aggressive form of haunting. Those that are truly stuck can be helped with the right sort of ritual work. But the way Terry’s affecting Katie’s mood and that fucking arm around her shoulders…

You don’t really want to talk to Terry.

“We can ask Terry to move on,” you tell the family.

“Nooooooo,” Terry says and flips you off. “Pass!”

“Sometimes spirits don’t realize how deeply they’re affecting their hosts,” you say.

“You don’t even know how deep I’m about to be,” Terry jeers at you.

“Many ghosts are confused when they’re called to interact with the living,” you say. “It can blur their understanding of death and, as a result, they cling to life. If they stick around long enough, their presence will affect the living like what’s happening to Katie. It’s not always malicious. It can be a symptom of that confusion.”

“Katie, tell her to piss off,” Terry hisses in the teen’s ear. “I’m not confused, I’m bored.” His voice deepens. “Tell her we don’t need her help. Tell her we’re going home.”

Katie opens her mouth robotically. “That’s…” Her brow creases as she tries to figure out what she was going to say. “It seems like we don’t need help then. Terry will move on when he’s ready, like I thought.”

“We aren’t paying you for a ghost therapy session,” Sarah snaps. It’s only because you’re really focusing that you can see the unease under her anger. She’s noticed something wrong with Katie. “Katie, Terry is going away today.”

“Fuck you,” Terry says.

“Fuck you,” Katie says.

Leroy’s head rears back. “Katie, you don’t use that language with your mother!”

“Fuck you too,” Katie and Terry say. The parking lot lights flicker.

“No, fuck you, Terry,” you say, stepping between Katie and her parents. Leroy starts like he’s going to pull you out of the way, but he doesn’t.

“Terry?” Leroy asks. He looks scared. “Terry said that? Is Terry possessing my daughter?”

“Not yet.” You eye Terry’s arm and the way his fingers are sinking into Katie’s arm.

“Oh fuck,” Terry says. He doesn’t look scared. Not yet. Instead, he grins. “You can see me.”

“Not every ghost is malicious,” you tell the parents without taking your eyes off Terry. “But some are.”

“I’m not malicious.” Terry runs a hand through his hair, still grinning. The parking lot lights flicker overhead again. “I care about Katie a lot.”

“Terry’s never hurt me,” Katie says.

You ignore her. She’s not even shaking Terry off now. Her gaze is dull on your face when you say, “I don’t mean to sound like I’m some sort of ghost therapist. However, it’s important to differentiate between malicious and non-malicious hauntings in my practice. My methods are unconventional and, if used indiscriminately, I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Leroy says. He steps into your periphery. His gaze flicks from you to the spot you’re staring at over Katie’s shoulder. “We want Terry gone.”

“Not a soul,” Sarah promises. She comes up on your other side. “Please help our daughter.”

“Terry,” you say. Your second mouth is yawning wide somewhere in the back of your brain. The taste of pepper isn’t as overwhelming now. “Last chance. Renounce your claim on Katie’s soul and slither back into whatever hole you came out of.”

“We’re soulmates,” Terry says. He bares his teeth at you. “Go on, Charlatan. Call on your God to banish me. I’ve been around for decades and no exorcist has ever been able to put a scratch on me. And when they manage to push me out?” He laughs and the temperature drops another ten degrees. An unholy light flickers in his eyes. “I just come right back.”

“Then I guess I won’t feel guilty,” you say.

“Guilty?” Katie asks.

You walk forward two steps and grab Terry’s face. Terry’s skin is soft and jelly-like. His facial bones undulate like rubber under your grip. “Hi, Terry.”

Now Terry’s afraid. “What the fuck, you can touch—?”

“Bye, Terry.” You drag him towards you. His fingers pop out of Katie’s arm with a wet sucking sound, and he claws at your wrist.

“Wait! Waitwaitwaitwait--”

You eat Terry.

People come from all around to eat at the Brownie Industry. They love the density of the desserts and the heaps of garlic spread over home-baked (shipped frozen) rolls. It’s a treat to know you’re always going to enjoy the meal even if you’re far from home or eating at the same location a hundred times. It’s consistency, sugar and butter. An easy addiction to have.

Eating ghosts is like that for you. They fizz in your second mouth like champagne and melt like fudge. It’s hard to describe and the ephemeral quality of it sends shivers down your spine. Somewhere Terry is screaming in anguish, maybe crying. You think that the family you’re helping is screaming something too, but the sensation of eating is so consuming you can’t hear the words.

Terry is younger than other ghosts you’ve eaten. He doesn’t have the depth of flavor you’d once been addicted to back in Illinois. The best ghost you’ve ever eaten had been like a six-course meal with all the centuries she’d been carrying. In comparison, Terry is like a bag of pepper chips. Interesting, but gone in a moment. Still, he hits the spot.

When you’re done, you burp a purple cloud of ectoplasm into the still night air.

Leroy is the first to speak. His eyes are so wide you can see the whites all around them. “Pay her, Sarah,” he says breathlessly. His hands shake as he reaches for Katie, steadying her on her feet. “Now.”

You smack your lips and graciously accept the wad of cash Sarah hands you. You raise your eyebrows. “This is more than three times my rate.”

“Consider it a tip,” Sarah says. She’s more composed than Leroy, but still pale. She studies you. “That was…revolting.”

“You didn’t have to watch,” you say. You put your money away and then perk up at a sudden thought. “Hey, if you can, can you leave me a review on my site?”

“I thought you didn’t want us to tell anyone?”

You wave your hand. “Secrets are bad for business. Besides, Terry deserved it. I’m sure they’ll understand if you write that in your review.”

“They…?”

You smile and don’t answer.

The family don’t ask many more questions after that. The parents promise to leave a review and Katie just stares at you as if concussed. You assure the parents that she’ll be back to normal as soon as the soul-shock wears off. 

“And if it doesn’t?” Sarah asks.

“Message me,” you say.

“You don’t check your messages,” Leroy says.

“Oh,” you say, patting your stomach, “I’ll be checking them a lot more often now.”

You’re hungry again.

---

(Patreon)

[cathnospam]

Trigger warning to those that don’t like panic attacks, but becomes fluffy at the end

“Katsuki?”

His eyes were dark, he looks like he haven’t slept in weeks, and it’s only been a year since the war ended. Granted, everybody was finally able to sleep regularly again, but apparently you must have been wrong.

“I—“

He couldn’t get the words out, his fits were shaking from how hard we was clenching them, his tired eyes began to water, you knew.

“C’mere.” You pull him into your arms, you feel your shoulder dampening and it was a signal for you to squeeze tighter once you shut your door. You couldn’t even move feeling his arms squeeze tighter against your waist. “I’m right here.”

Even though Bakugo managed to live. Managed to pass though rehab, managed to become a big part of fighting against AFO he still has nightmares.

They started off as just seeing himself nearly die but he wakes up right before it happens. But now he’s having nightmares about you. How you took his place instead of him.

This nightmare he seen your body, lying there, tears dried by your eyes, by the time bakugo ran to you Shigiraki turned your body into dust.

It was horrifying.

He woke up in a frenzy, hot, sweating, immediately running out his room to your dorm, his heavy feet nearly sprinting to your room he needed to just double check he almost bust down your door if you haven’t opened it right as he arrived.

“You—-“

“It’s okay….you’re okay—“

“BUT YOU WEREN’T…you…you….” His voice was so shattered. He couldn’t explain it to you, but you had an inkling what he could’ve meant.

He has been going to your dorm a lot lately. Using the excuse “I’m just checking up on YOU.” But in reality it’s you checking on him. He’ll come right before bed and sleep over or come in while you’re sleep and lay on your couch and once with you on the opposite side of your bed.

You couldn’t move, hearing his sniffles tore your heart a little, his breathing was shallow you could feel his heart rate grow faster, his body was shaking and you immediately began to fall on your knees, back on the wall rubbing his back .”I’m right here Katsuki…it’s okay just match my breathing.”

Not wanting to panic either you regulated your breathing for him to copy you, his teeth were gritting to hard you felt it against your shoulder, “C’mon there you go…..just breathe….”

After a few minutes He began to calm down. Your shirt was damp with tears but you knew better than to force him to look at you. So you waited until he did the first move.

Bakugo covered his face with his palm, pausing before attempting to wipe all his tears off his face.

He failed.

You took his hand, palms so sweaty it was nearly slippery to hold up with a firm grip you guided him to your bed. “Stay here tonight.”

He didn’t reply nor negate, he just followed suit. He’d usually have his back facing you, but felt himself willingly fall onto your chest.

“They’re soft right?” You weakly joke about your breast he is laid on, trying to see if he’ll respond, you smile hearing a weak chuckle come out his nose before he snuggles himself between them deeper.

Your fingers run though his soft hair, his heartbeat was in tandem with yours as you felt his chest against your belly.

Bakugo usually handles his panic attacks alone, but for the first time he actually was so happy to have someone like you there with him. His teary eye peaks from the side, you wipe the remnant of tears from his cheek and he nearly melts to your touch.

It was probably the best sleep he has ever had in months thanks to you.

[danveration]

Sleep well, amour.

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?

Word count: 2844

Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)

part two

A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)

Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.

You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.

“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.

“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.

“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.

After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.

While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.

He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.

“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.

His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.

“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.

“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.

“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.

Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.

“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.

Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.

While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.

“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.

“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.

Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”

She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.

He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”

After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.

“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.

Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.

“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.

One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.

You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.

“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.

“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.

Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.

“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.

“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.

“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”

You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.

Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?

“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”

Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.

“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.

You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”

You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.

Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.

You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.

“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.

You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.

“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.

“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.

You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.

This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.

You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.

Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.

“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.

You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.

“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.

After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.

Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.

He walks over to you and looks down.

“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.

He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.

“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.

“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

eyes on the prize

a/n: me writing a fic where rafe is actually wholesome and nice? i didn't see it coming either... this idea just came to me when you were all voting for the kinktober fic a while ago, and i was prepping that it maybe could go in this direction and then ended up falling too much in love with the fantasy, so i simply had to get it out of my system.

summary: “in a week, when we’ve turned in the assignment, and everything is over, I want you to come watch me fight… watch me win…” a cocky smirk twitched at the corner of his lips as he awaited your answer.

warnings: mma!rafe cameron x reader, smut, college au, study buddies to lovers, soft!rafe, autumnal vibes, takes place in the beginning of november, studying, friday the 13th references, scaredy cat!reader, violence, mma fights, kissing, semi-public sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, manhandling, ripping pantyhose, size kink, spit kink, hole inspection, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 2626

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“So,” you hesitantly broke the silence that had fallen over both you and the partner that had been assigned to you on this current project, “did you get up to anything fun on Halloween?” 

Glancing up from the thick book Rafe’s bored gaze was rushing through, it instead lingered on you for but a moment as his mutter reverberated in the quiet corner of the university’s library, “uhm, yeah. I popped by a party for a bit.” 

“The one at delta neu?” a glint flickered in your eye as soon as he offered you a nod, “me too! Though I went home kinda early, so we might have missed each other… what did you going as?” 

“Jason,” he simply uttered. 

“Jason who?” the soft smile didn’t fade from your lips as his short answer hadn’t landed the way he’d hoped. 

“You know,” his brows furrowed slightly at your cluelessness, repeating once again as if the name alone should be enough for you to understand, “Jason.” 

“…Jason Statham? Jason Momoa?” your eyes squinted as you quietly attempted to hit the bullseye, “uhm… I can’t really think of any other famous Jasons right now…” 

“No, Jason from Friday the 13th. You know, the dude with the hockey mask and the machete.” 

“Ah, him… yeah, I haven’t watched those movies,” you shrugged, “but, cool costume.” 

“Wait, you’ve never seen Friday the 13th?” he tilted closer to where you sat across the table from him, “not even the cheesy remake?” 

“Nope,” you simply returned your gaze to the textbook beneath your fingers.  

“Seriously?” his eyebrows didn’t float back down yet, “well, I don’t know if I should be offended that you’ve never watched that masterpiece before or jealous that you get to experience it for the first time, but either way, that’s a problem we need to fix.” 

At first, you thought you’d entered the wrong building. 

That was until you rounded the corner, and your gaze fluttered up from the map still open on your phone, guiding you to the mysterious address your study partner had texted you, asking you to meet up with him there before the rest of your plans could unfold, that you discovered that you hadn’t stumbled into the wrong place. 

Though that wasn’t the only thing you discovered in that moment as the culmination of that enlightenment was spotting Rafe in the middle of the industrial and cold gym, going through the tail end of some drills with his trainer. 

As he went through the combinations and grunted like a guard dog, sweat dripped down from his brow and rolled so low that it cascaded over his already glistening and bare chest. 

You hadn’t really noticed how your feet had stopped or how your pulse had picked up so fiercely that you could feel it between your thighs before his own eyes located you and he flashed you a smile.

“Hey!” his voice cut through your trance as he patted his coach on the shoulder and began to near the edge of the ring. 

“H-hi,” you blinked, shaking your fuzzy head slightly to clear it, “I didn’t know you were into this sort of stuff,” you briefly waved a hand to the gym around you and tried your best to rip your stare away from his heaving chest. 

“Yeah,” he began to loosen a glove, “sorry I asked you to meet me here, I’m just really busy these days cause I’ve got a fight coming up.” 

“Oh, well we don’t have to have a silly movie night if you don’t have the time,” you averted your gaze, recalling how before you’d been paired with him on the assignment for Callahan’s class, you hadn’t even been sure of what his name was. You’d just known him as the hot guy, three rows behind you. 

“No, no, I want to, unless of course you’ve changed your mind.”

Blinking back up into his eyes, you smiled, “definitely not.”

“Well, great,” a grin spread across his lips, “then just give me a second,” he cast a brief glance over his broad shoulder at the locker room, “and then we can head back to my place,” a notion you hadn’t expected would have ended with you up on the back of his motorcycle, a terrifying concept that you’d somehow been unable to deny as the crush that had blossomed and bloomed within your heart for him had made it near impossible for you to say no to a single one of his suggestions. 

“You never told me what you went as,” Rafe hummed beside you, causing your eyes to tear away from the horror movie buzzing on the TV.

Blinking over at him next to you on the leather couch, your fingers began to fiddle with the blanket you’d slumped over yourself, “oh, well I didn’t wanna buy anything new, so I just went through my closet and ended up going as Britney Spears because I found the skirt of my old school uniform. I don’t even remember why I brought it with me the last time I went home, but–, ah!” a shriek suddenly shuttered through your form as your eyes accidentally fluttered back towards the screen just in time to witness the villain sink a large blade into the head of one of the drunk teenagers, “oh my god!” your frame couldn’t help but jump at the fright, nearly tossing the blanket across the room as you instinctively hid your features in the mass of Rafe’s bicep. 

As your heart raced and thumped in your chest, you felt Rafe’s shoulder begin to move before you heard his laughter. 

“Shut up, it’s not funny!” you smacked him lightly in the chest, though kept your vision darkened by his shirt, “so I’m not desensitised to the horrors of scary movies, big whoop!” a mutter then slipped out of your lungs, “fuck, why did I agree to this? I’m probably gonna have nightmares for weeks…”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a movie,” you felt his palm find your arm in a soothing rub as his voice hummed directly above the crown of your head, “and the scene is almost over.” 

“I can’t look…” you felt yourself lean more into his touch. 

“…do you want me to describe it to you?” 

“No…” you lingered in the security of his warmth and felt the terror slowly melt from your bones. Cupping a hand on the side of your face to shield your eyes from the horrors on screen, you carefully plucked your face just shy out of his safety before you uttered, “…just tell me when it’s over…” 

The blaring light from the television reflected against the side of Rafe’s face as he gazed down into your eyes and breathed, “okay,” his stare slowly dipping and fluttering down towards your lips. 

It wasn’t till now that you noticed how close you’d accidentally scooted to him as you weren’t far from just sitting in his lap. 

Sharing his breath, your mind went entirely blank and only switched back on when you’d closed the distance betwixt your lips and now found yourself kissing your study buddy. 

Thankfully, your brain didn’t get a chance to begin spiralling as it only took Rafe half a second to reciprocate the sudden move and kiss you back. 

His strong hands found the small of your waist buried beneath the woollen blanket before he began to drag you closer, pulling you so near that you actually did wind up sitting in his lap, your fingers fluttering against his buzzcut as his own scooped down over the curve of your ass. 

When the movie gently humming from behind you was long forgotten and your soul instead had drifted straight to heaven, you felt Rafe tilt his head back to breathlessly utter, “come watch my fight…” his forehead still pressed against your own. 

Scarcely picking up on the words behind his honied hum, you breathed, “what?” 

Reeling back just enough for his eye to catch your own dazed pair, he said, “in a week, when we’ve turned in the assignment, and everything is over, I want you to come watch me fight… watch me win…” a cocky smirk twitched at the corner of his lips as he awaited your answer.

You’d never seen a fight in real life before. 

Not boxing, not mixed martial arts as this was, not even a juvenile one in a schoolyard. 

At one point, when you thought all hope seemed lost, when Rafe got pinned by his opponent and blood was trickling down from the cut at his brow so clearly that you could make it out from the second row seat you found yourself planted in, he somehow managed to turn the tides and capture the boulder of a man in a lock so fierce it made them nearly melt into one pretzel-like being. 

As he flexed his arm around the other’s throat with the rest of his limbs restricting him as well and rendering an escape near impossible, Rafe’s eyes then flickered up to catch your wide ones in the crowd. A grin appeared on his features as he held your stare a moment longer, watching as you shyly began to mirror his smile, before he tightened his hold and squeezed till the opponent opted not to bruise his pride and tap out, instead going limp in the grasp. 

Once the trophy was in his gloved hand and he’d leapt out of the ring, on his way back towards the locker room, he zigzagged through the cheering crowd and caught onto your arm, dragging you with him as he exited the buzzing hall. 

“That was insane,” you heard yourself babble as he pulled you through the corridors down towards the backroom he’d been in prior to the fight, “I mean, I know I went into it kinda blind, but I had no idea it would be like that,” adrenaline still rushed through your veins as he tugged you over the threshold and closed the door behind you, swiftly dropping his trophy to one of the long benches, “sure, it was as insane as I probably imagined, but the way that you moved, the way you slipped in and out like you were made of water or something, I mean, that was beautiful–,” the fighter then suddenly cut your rambling short as he yanked you to his sweaty form and pressed his lips to your own. However, as his feet shuffled and your spine collided with the back of the door to the small locker room, your fingers fluttered over countless of the spots where he’d been hit, causing you to jerk back and ask, “wait, shouldn’t you have someone check you out?” your eyes flickered from the cut splitting his brow to the various fresh bruises already beginning to blossom and reveal their true colours, “are you okay?”

“I’ve never felt better in my whole life,” he tried to lean back in to capture your lips once more, though you tilted away just in time for him to miss. 

“You sure? Because–”

But your words were quickly snuffed out as his hands then flew up to grasp the sides of your face to force you to notice the glint in his eye and the desire dripping in his tone, “just shut up and kiss me,” he commanded before he practically devoured you whole. 

As Rafe’s tongue danced against your own and made you feel dizzy in his tight embrace, his fingers then blindly fumbled for the lock and twisted it with a click that harmonised with the throbbing that had appeared between your thighs as soon as the fight had commenced. 

A low growl rumbled deep within his chest and melted into your mouth as he then plucked you off of the ground and lifted you into his arms. Broad palms spreading wide below your bottom, he brought you as close as possible, causing the skirt you wore to ride up and crumble at your hips. The thin barrier of your pantyhose and the underwear beneath nearly incinerated from the heat that sparked as his hips greedily rocked against your covered core, lending you to feel just how hard he was in his shorts. 

“I want you so bad,” he groaned between pecks, his fingers digging into your softness.

“Shouldn’t you be out celebrating your victory or something?” a light giggle bubbled out of you. 

“I thought that was what I was doing,” he smirked before dropping you back down onto the ground, making you gasp at his sharp movements as he suddenly spun you around to face the closed door, “unless you have a better idea of how we could celebrate,” he nipped at your neck, making your eyes flutter. 

“I–…” your teeth briefly captured your bottom lip as his front pressed against your back, and your spine instinctively arched back into him, “no, yeah, this one’s g-good…”

“Good,” he murmured in your ear before his fingers found your pantyhose in a pinch and ripped a big hole in them, nearly splitting them in two as he exposed your underwear, “do you want it?” he gripped your hips and titled them for his hard-on to perfectly nudge against the soaked cotton. 

“Y-yes,” you panted, even just that one word haven been a struggle to utter through the fog he’d cast you into. 

“How bad?” 

“So bad–, Rafe, please,” he made you squeak desperately, “I just–, please…”

Cheek smooshed against the door, you glanced over your shoulder and watched as he then kneeled down behind you. Both hands still firmly planted on your hips, keeping you in place for him, they only strayed for a moment in order to shove your skirt the rest of the way up and letting him see the wet spot decorating your panties. 

“Oh, shit…” he groaned as he tugged the gusset of your underwear all the way to the side, a string of your glossy want clung to the fabric till it snapped back against your aching core. Nearly salivating as he inspected your holes, his fingers dented your ass as he pulled you apart, splitting you open that much further and watching intently at the way your drooling cunt throbbed in anticipation for his touch. 

As if your pussy’s embarrassingly leaky state wasn’t enough, a dollop of his spit then roughly landed upon your folds, the lewdness causing you to let out a moan as he swiftly rose back up to his full height without as much as a tickle to your tingly petals.

The next thing you knew, the adrenaline coursing through you both drove Rafe to free his length from its confines and, without as much as another kiss, slammed inside of your weeping pussy in one fell motion. 

Balls nuzzled tightly against you, the very tip of him nudged against a part so deep inside of you that it made you lose your breath as he took a moment to savour the sensation, freezing up within you and huffing against your cheek as you gasped for air through your whimpers. 

“Oh my god!” one of your hands curled back to crawl at his waist, “Rafe!” 

“Now,” his hips slowly drew back, dragging his fat girth back out of you and letting you feel every little detail of him, “you just gotta be a good girl, stand right here for me,” only the bulbous head of his cock remained, keeping you plugged up as he purred in your ear, “and take it like the perfect little prize you are,” he then buried himself once more with such vigour that his heavy sack tapped sloppily against your puffy clit, “can you do that for me? Will you be my reward?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[littlelamy]

with rafe

a/n: SPOILER for S4; rafe x pogue!reader; if you haven’t seen s4 yet and don’t want spoilers please do not read it !!! i wanted to post it tomorrow but i love it so much so I’m posting today!

proposal with rafe

The sun casts a golden glow across the water as Barry’s boat floats in the middle of the water while a determined rafe zooms on his jetski to shore. He swings a leg off the jet ski, wading through the shallow waves as he makes his way to where you’re sitting under a tree, your gaze meeting his. There’s something different in his eyes—a softness, maybe even a hint of vulnerability, and you feel your pulse quicken as he reaches for your hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Come sit with me,” he murmurs, his voice low but steady, leading you to a spot beneath the shade. His expression is so uncharacteristically tender, it leaves you feeling both anxious and curious. He takes a deep breath, as if summoning the courage for something important.

“Before I... before I take off, I wanted to say something,” he says, his eyes searching yours, his tone holding a weight that makes your heart race. Confused but drawn in, you nod, watching as he sinks down on one knee before you, reaching into his pocket to pull out a beautiful diamond ring. The delicate silver band catches the light, and you see his hand tremble slightly as he holds it out, a touch of vulnerability showing through.

“It was my mom’s,” he says quietly, his voice filled with a softness that you rarely hear. "Been in the family forever, so I know that's some Kook bullshit, but I..." His gaze holds yours, a gentle warmth shining through. “I just wanted to you to have it, before I...I left, so you know that we're real.”

Your heart swells, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his eyes and the gesture that feels so intimate, so unexpected. You nod, a smile breaking across your face, and the weight of his love wraps around you as he slides the ring onto your finger with a tenderness that takes your breath away.

Your heart still pumping fast at his words as warmth spreads through you as he steps forward and sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as his lips find yours. His kiss is deep and passionate, filled with longing and the intensity he’s been holding back. He groans softly, pressing you closer, and you feel the weight of his emotions as you loop your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. He pulls you deeper into the kiss, as if it’s his way of saying everything he can’t put into words.

He pulls away smiling at your now heavy finger, his thumb brushing over your hand before he reaches into his pocket again and pulls out his keys. He holds them out to you, his fingers brushing yours as he places them into your palm.

“I want you…” he starts, his voice husky with feeling, “…I want you to quit your job, and I want…I want you to move in with me.” He pulls you in again with a even more passionate (if it’s even possible) kiss that makes your knees buckle. "Now we got that sorted," Rafe says laughing with the biggest smile as he pulls away from the kiss.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks, all right? Here. Stay at my…..Stay at our place.” He presses the keys into your hand with a firm but gentle insistence. As he pulls back his hands, he rests his forehead against yours, smiling, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I love you,” he says softly, pressing a final kiss to your forehead, then lips before stepping away. He pauses, looking back at you one last time, his eyes holding a promise, a warmth that leaves you feeling like the luckiest person in the world as he steps back onto his jet ski.

As he starts up the engine and disappears across the water, you’re left with the keys, the ring, and the weight of his words—feeling the love and commitment he’s offering, and the life he wants to build with you.

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