#also i have thoughts about duck and being the chosen and the scene where he's stitching up billy and maybe about french onion soup again??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marvel-trash-bin · 3 years

Text

Taking Risks.

(Not my Gif.)

Summary: Zemo gives you what he thinks you deserve. *Some TFATWS Ep. 3 Spoilers.*

Pairing: Zemo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smut for days baby. Dirty Talking, Possession, marking, Soft!Dom Zemo. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4.2K

Tags: @greeneyedblondie44

A/N: Look we all know we're walking dangerous territory, simping for a war criminal. But Sugar Daddy Zemo got me feeling some type of way and also, Daniel Brüle is hot asf. Also, I don't actually know german so pls if it's off just blame google translate, I just have an insatiable language kink and I needed the pet names more than air itself. I thought about making this a chaptered fic, but I barely had the time to write this, never mind chapters of it before he likely fucks over Sam and Bucky next episode. Anyways, enjoy!

Here’s the thing.

You knew he was dangerous. You knew his past, the EKO Scorpion kill squad and everything with the Avengers, manipulating them and breaking them up from the inside. He was smart, unpredictable. You knew there was a very real potential that you could be hurt - or worse - if you went down the road.

And maybe, in a past life that would’ve been enough to stop you. But you weren’t who you used to be. You liked playing with fire now, inviting danger and chaos rather than straying from it. You had lived in - hid in, was more accurate - Madripoor for a handful of years now. You laid low, kept yourself under the radar of the Power Broker and those who worked for him. This way, no one bothered you and you could live fragments of a normal life, Trading and bartering to make a living. But living this way, like forgotten trash on a sidewalk, got old.

Maybe that’s why when you caught his attention, you didn’t shy away from it.

It had happened so fast. You were dancing, just intoxicated enough that the rubbing of strangers' bodies against yours was not just welcomed, but encouraged. So encouraged that when a new body, tall and firm behind you, took the place of another, you didn’t hesitate to back up into the warmth. His hands gripped your hips tightly, not stopping or guiding you, just resting. Turning your head slightly to see what your new dance partner looked like, you startled a little seeing the Baron.

Helmut chuckled, a low sound you felt rather than heard, and ducked his head down to speak into your ear, “You know who I am.”

You let your body relax back into his, feeling reckless enough to bless the menacing man with your flirtations, your head falling back onto his, “I’ve heard a thing or two.”

“And yet you trust me to hold you like this,” his hands flex on your hips, just hard enough to show the strength they hold, “Like a lover.”

You grab one of his hands, leading it down to your upper thigh where your knife holster sits, never once letting his hand leave your body.

“If I didn’t want you touching me, you’d know it, Baron.”

The gust of breath you felt against the side of your neck and the large hand gripping your thigh had shivers rolling pleasantly down your spine.

“You are far too beautiful to reside in these undergrounds,” he spun you around in his grasp, allowing you to get a good look at his face, “A woman like yourself should be treated with the most expensive riches, the finest wines. She should drain a man of his earnings.”

You laughed, not expecting the words that came from his mouth nor how handsome he was, even this close, “Point me to the man who’s willing.”

He smirked at you, but there was a smugness to it. A glimmer in his eye that suggested he had the riches and the desire to give you anything you wanted. You felt like you were drowning in his gaze, lost as you were under the heat of it. He looked somewhere behind you, pulling his eyes from you to nod once at whatever, or whoever, had stolen his attention from you. When they returned to you, the heat and desire were replaced with determination.

“It is with great regret that I must leave you, for now,” He captured your hand, bringing it up to his lips, the softness of them brushing lightly against your knuckles, “I can get you out of Madripoor, give you a life you deserve. If you meet me tomorrow morning, the airstrip.”

The world felt like it froze around you. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you. You couldn’t trust him. You Shouldn’t trust him. But as you stared into his eyes you saw nothing but honesty.

“And if I don’t?” You ask, just to buy yourself some time.

His hand travels up your arm, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger securely, “I will not pressure you. I’d leave you be, but the ghost of you would haunt me, schatzi.”

And with that, he was gone. Leaving you with nothing more than your thoughts, mentally preparing how quickly you could pack your things and leaving Madripoor behind. After all, you’ve always loved taking risks.

The next few weeks were a blur. Zemo was laying low, but his form of laying low was still luxury to you. It was private jets and upscale accommodations, not to mention that he was a man of his word. He spoiled you. Within three days of being in his presence, you had acquired a whole new wardrobe. Your suitcases - also new - were filled to the brim with the fanciest and latest fashion. You had rare jewels on nearly every piece of jewelry you owned. Maybe spoiled was an understatement. You’ve only dreamed of owning riches like these.

He had picked something particular for you to wear tonight, both of you making an appearance at some sort of party with some higher-ups. It was all laid out on the king-sized bed, a little black dress of sorts. It was short and sheer in its long sleeves, the sparkles in the fabric ensured that you would shimmer under any lighting. With a simple clutch, matching jewelry and a cropped, white fur jacket to keep you warm until you got to your destination. You looked good. You felt good.

He looked just as good. Sporting an outfit similar to the one you had met him in, instead choosing a dark red turtleneck to create a stunning relation between both your outfits. Nothing had happened between the two of you yet. Aside from lingering glances and innocent touches, he had been a gentleman. The chemistry was there, for sure. You were able to joke and talk with the man, matching his wit and charm every step of the way. And he loved it.

“Best behaviour tonight, schatzi.” He had said, low in your ear as you walked towards the venue.

You had smiled back at him, the perfect picture of innocence, “Always, Baron.”

And at the time, you had fully meant it. But you found yourself craving him. He looked too good, it honestly wasn’t fair. The way that ridiculous fur jacket draped over his shoulders, fostering a powerful ambience. And you knew he was faring no better himself if by the way his eyes were glued to your curves was anything to go by.

So, you decided, maybe you shouldn’t be on your best behaviour tonight. It’s not like you were making a scene or anything that would call too much attention. You were simply letting the alcohol take over your body. Whether that meant a hand on his thigh as you listened to the conversations around you, your fingers playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck or dancing a little too scandalously when you knew he was watching. You felt confident. And when you felt confident, you felt dangerous.

By the end of the night, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were him. You were pushing your luck, hands trailing a little too close to the bulge in his slacks, enjoying the way his facial features changed briefly in shock before settling back into that infuriating unmovable stoic impression. The last straw was you bending in front of him, having ‘dropped’ something from your purse. You only had to bend so much before the dress, as short as it was, had ridden up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of your panties.

In an instant, he had you standing upright, thanking whoever he had been talking to for a wonderful night, tugging your dress back down to a respectable length and steering you towards the door by the back of your neck.

“That was not best behaviour,” he growled into your ear.

You giggled, despite the tight grip on your neck, “I was just having fun.”

He had done nothing but stare at you, eyes hard with a warning that had you rethinking your actions. You had forgotten, for a moment, that this man was not just someone to give you all the pretty trinkets you wore. He was a mastermind, a criminal mastermind at that. A man most deemed dangerous enough to be locked away.

“You have been bad tonight, kleine Schlampe.” He said once he had gotten you back to his car, away from the prying eyes and ears of the party guests, “You will spend the trip back thinking of ways to make it up to me.”

The words sent heat through your core, and you did exactly as he said.

By the time he had gotten you up to your accommodations, you had thought of thousands of different scenarios that could earn you forgiveness for your recklessness. You were uncertain if his words earlier had implied sexual favours, or if a simple, genuine apology was all he was looking for. However, once he had turned to you, the room door closing behind him and his eyebrows raised expectantly, you fell to your knees in front of him like it was second nature.

He chuckles darkly at you as he peels his gloves off, tossing them gently onto a side table nearby before letting one hand brush away the hair that had fallen in your face.

“Seems you are meine kleine schlampe indeed,” You had no idea what it meant, but fuck it sounded good coming from him. His eyes were hard and dark as he stared down at you, “If this is the path you’ve chosen to apologize, so be it. But not here, you are meine schlampe not a common whore. Get up. Go to the bedroom.”

You did as he said, quickly pulling yourself up to a standing position and walking to the designated room. The bed, so far, had only been used by you. He hadn’t wanted to push or pressure you into sharing a space with him. He understood that just because you decided to join him, didn’t mean you wanted to be with him. But tonight, you had decided, you wanted to give him your everything. You wanted to show him how grateful you were for all the gifts he’d given you so far. And if you couldn’t give him luxuries, you would give him your desire.

“So,” he began, nodding in approval at the way you resume your position on the floor in front of him, “Let’s begin with the basics.” As he talked, he rolled up his sleeves, doing so with precision, “Tell me, what exactly are you apologizing for?”

He commands every drop of your attention. There’s an aura to him that you had only previously caught a glimpse of. His eyes dark and locked onto yours, never once wavering. Waiting. Calculating.

“For teasing you.”

“And?”

You take a breath, shame flooding your core at the answer that sits on your tongue.

“For embarrassing you.”

There’s a pause. He cocks his head, gaze softening just a tad. He's quiet for several moments, analyzing your words. Your heart starts to beat a little faster at the extended silence, thinking you’ve done something wrong and you can’t keep up the eye contact. You duck your head, averting your gaze to his feet.

“Look at me, schatzi.” His voice is soft, but still with enough edge to make you listen.

Only once your eyes meet his again does he continue.

“That’s very sweet of you, to be concerned about my image. But make no mistake,” He steps closer to you, letting one hand cup your jaw, tilting it upwards. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip, “You could never embarrass me,”

You dip your head, nipping softly at his thumb. He smiles softly at you, something glimmering in his eye, “I simply just don’t like to share what’s mine.”

Your breath leaves your body at his words and suddenly the need for him to claim you had you nearly vibrating in your skin. You watch, every muscle in your body clenched tightly, as he walks slowly over to the armchair in the corner, never once taking his eyes off you. He sits, legs parted, one arm draped off the side, the other rested so he could prop his head up.

“Proceed.”

Instantly, you make your way over to him. Once in front of him, you stand up on your knees, placing your hands on his knees and slowly sliding them up his thighs. They continue its upward motion, skimming lighting over the hardness in his pants and reaching to start on his belt. You make quick work of his belt and buttons, eagerly working his pants and briefs down. He chuckles above you.

“Mein Schatz, so eager to apologize.” He purrs, almost mockingly, hand coming down to brush the fallen hair away from your face.

Once you had him free, you took a second to admire him. Your legs clenched at the size of him. Not terribly big, but big enough to anticipate the stretch, the fullness. Your eyes flicked back up, looking up at his through your lashes, leaning in but stopping just before you could actually get your mouth on him. The hand that was previously fixing your hair was now clenched in it, messing it up again and forcing your head back suddenly to look at him properly.

“It would not be wise to tease me more than you have,” he warned.

A smirk spread across your features and you quickly realized how much you liked him like this.

Powerful.

Strict.

However, you knew you were on thin ice already. With that in mind, as soon as his grip loosened you licked a wide stripe up his length, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him fully into your mouth. The tension his body held melted the second your tongue touched him. His mouth dropping on a soft groan. His hand stroked your hair as you sucked, encouraging the bobs of your head, not forcing but guiding. You keep your eyes trained on his face, not wanting to miss a second of experiencing him like this.

He glows in the low lamplight of the room, the shadows playing across his features delicately. You like him like this too. Reduced to a heap of gasps and moans beneath the heat of your mouth. As you suck, your hands wander, up under the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging down his sides. He hisses at the pain, but doesn’t tell you to stop.

After a few minutes of your slow torture, he decides he’s had enough. His hand tightens in your hair, his movements becoming less gentle and more demanding.

“That’s a good girl, take it all for me.”

You do as he asks, taking a breath before taking him as deep as you can. He groans at the feeling, hips shifting a few times to test you before beginning to thrust in and out of your mouth. Your jaw aches, but his eyes are on you and his thumb is tracing your bottom lip that’s stretched wide around his cock and you think for a second that you could spend eternity like this.

It’s not much longer before he pulls you off his cock, hand wrapping around his base tightly, “Apologies, schatzi. I am out of practice, and I fear I'm not quite finished with you yet.”

You laugh softly, voice rough due to your previous activity, “That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You insist, more than happy to let him finish like this. Whatever he wants.

He stops you before you can dip down again, standing up and taking you with him. For the first time, his lips are on yours. He overwhelms all your senses. His breath loud in your ears, his hands on your waist, his scent. His tongue slides against yours as he walks you forward, shedding his lower clothing as he goes. He only parts to give you an order.

“Turn around.”

As you do, he finishes undressing and it kills you that can’t see him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses your mind, it’s gone as you feel his hands at the top of your dress. He slides the zipper down, letting the fabric fall off your shoulders. You take the liberty of helping the sleeves the rest of the way down, the fabric falling down around your heels once you’ve done so. He hums behind you.

“Such beauty,” he whispers against your shoulder. His hands begin to wander, around your waist, up underneath the fabric of your bra, down to your thighs and ass. He chuckles, dragging your panties down enough that they too fall, forgotten at your feet, “I can hardly stay mad at you, liebling.”

Your head falls back onto his shoulders as he works your bra off next. You shiver, feeling bare and exposed before him. You want him more than you can express and you let your whole body fall back into his embrace, whimpering at the feeling of him, hard against the swell of your ass.

“Helmut,” you moan, one of your hands finding purchase in his hair as the other rests on one of his forearms.

“Tell me you’re mine, Schatzi. And I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I’m yours,” you say without hesitation, breathless as his hand dips between your legs, finding your clit. He hums, pleased at the arousal he finds there, “I’m yours. Only yours.”

He growls pulling his hand away from, “Lay back on the bed. I’ll be right back.”

You do as he says, positioning yourself in the middle of the bed. While you wait, you let your mind wander, listening to his rummaging somewhere in another room while your mind runs through everything you want him to do to you. At some point, your eyes must close because when you feel the bed dip, they open to see him crawling between your legs.

He’s done messing around, wasting no time before his face is buried between your thighs, hands maneuvering your legs so that they’re thrown over his shoulders, your heels crossing sweetly behind his head, no doubt scratching at his shoulders. Your breath leaves your body at the feeling of his tongue, warm and wet and fan-fucking-tastic. He alternates between dipping it in and out of your heat and flicking it against your clit. Your hand finds his hair, gripping it between your fingers and guiding his movements ever so slightly. His eyes don’t leave yours, spare for the few times he closes them to moan against you.

One of his hands move, leaving its place at your hip to sink two fingers into you. Your head falls back on a moan, back arching up when he crooks his fingers and finds your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand gripping the pillow behind your head as you feel your orgasm rush towards you, “Fuck- Wait, I-”

You can’t even feel embarrassed about how easily your body has reacted to him. Before you can warn him much more, you're falling over the edge. Your thighs tensing around his head, back arching in pleasure as you ride out your high. In this moment you belong completely to him, unable to think of anything else.

“So sweet for me, liebling.” He comments, hands rubbing up and down your calves as you come down, taking a moment to unfasten your heels, letting the shoes drop to the floor before leaning back in. His lips brush against your inner thigh.

Then a bite.

“Such pretty sounds you make for me.”

And then he’s sucking harshly at the skin there, watching the shudder that rips through your sensitive body at the sensation. He doesn’t pull away until the mark is dark and flush against your skin. He continues this on the other thigh, on your ribs, your breasts and finally your neck, marking you thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growls, hot against your ear, “Mein schatz, will you let me have you?” he asks, and it’s literally all you can think about so you don’t even bother hiding the truth, the confession tumbling from your lips breathlessly.

“I’d let you do anything to me.”

He groans, capturing your lips in a deep kiss as he does so. He pulls away to grab the condom that he had put next to him on the bed and leaning back on his haunches to roll it on. You’re so impatient, nails digging into his thighs and arms, whining as you watch his hands work.

“So needy,” He comments, swallowing your moan as he finally, finally, sinks into you.

The stretch as he enters you has your head rolling back on a moan, your legs wrapping around his waist the bring him the rest of the way in. He buries his head in the crook of your neck, growling against the skin there.

“Fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth, his resolve quickly slipping at the feeling of you around his cock. And to his credit, he really tries to wait, to be good. But not seconds later he’s adjusting his grip on your hips and he’s thrusting into you with a force that makes the whole bed shake.

It’s barely been 30 seconds, but the build-up that had occurred throughout the entirety of the night had you right back on the edge, your nails clawing at his shoulders, his back, his thighs. Any purchase you could get on him, you were begging for more. You’d take anything he gave you without so much as batting an eyelash. His grip on your hips is tight and bruising, but the pain twists into a delicious pleasure that only spurs you on.

You must be speaking, babbling something back to him about how good it feels, how much you love being fucked by him because he’s laughing through a moan against your neck. He pauses for just a second, straightening up and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder before continuing to fuck you.

“That’s it Kätzchen.” He purrs, eyes moving down your body to where he enters your body, “Taking my cock so well.”

You mewl at the praise, your body arching in response to his words. Your second orgasm takes you both by surprise, having hit you like a fucking freight train when he thrusts particularly deep, hitting one of your sweet spots. You scramble for purchase on him, mouth dropped open in a near-pornographic moan that you’ll surely be embarrassed about later. But for now, all you know is pleasure.

His hips falter, stuttering as your walls tighten around him. His head falls back on a low moan, fucking you hard and slow through your release.

“Such a sweet cunt,” he gasps, “Mein Gott..”

And then he’s tangling your hands together, holding it high above your head as he pushes your thighs back, flush against your chest. He’s the one babbling now, words from God only knows what language, whispered against your skin as he chases his own release. He gives one last hard thrust and he’s done, his teeth dragging against the skin on your shoulder, moaning against you as he rides out his orgasm.

As you both come down, you stroke the back of his neck, playing with the hairs there, trying to catch your breath. After a few moments, he pulls away just enough to kiss you. There’s a lingering heat and it’s a little messy due to your shared exhaustion but it’s good.

Once you’ve both caught your breath, he removes himself from your body, taking the necessary time to deal with the condom. You watch him lazily, unable to do much other than that. You’re so tired. But there’s that ache between your legs that you love so much and you think briefly that you could go another round, if he wanted to.

He must see something in your eyes when he returns because he laughs softly, “I feel I may have my hands full with you, schatzi.” he says as he crawls back into the bed with you, covering the both of you with a blanket, the cold now biting at your skin. You know you have to get up soon enough to sort yourself out before bed, but for a moment you stay with him.

His fingers brush over your face softly, following the slope of your nose and the angle of your cheeks. There’s no real purpose to his movements, just... touching. As if convincing himself that you’re real.

“You are special, schatzi.” he says softly, “I don’t know what your plans are, but I can only hope that you choose to continue to bless me with your presence.”

This man is such an enigma to you. He carries such confidence in every aspect of his life and yet he still doubts your loyalties. There’s anxiety and pain hidden within him, you can see it in his eyes as he continues to look at you. You wonder, how much of his past weighs on his shoulders. How long before he deems himself worthy of your affection? You lean in to kiss him softly, your lips dragging slowly against him. When you pull away you keep him close, brushing your noses together.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

#helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #sugar daddy zemo #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #smut

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 3 years

Note

Oh... Well what about the sound pillar wives interaction with erotica?

If you're the darling who asked about the Kamboko Trio earlier, I'm sorry I couldn't do it just yet but I hope this makes up for it!!!

Love ya🖤🖤🖤

Exotica | Yandere Uzui Tengen Wives x Reader

Hinatsuru- Arguably the most loyal wife of Uzui’s is also the hardest to read. She was good at keeping her persona intact, but even despite that you’d still make an effort to drop some important information about the schedules. She isn’t stupid and she notices. Similar to how Uzui reacts, she suspects you and decides getting closer to you is a tactic to advance in her position and in gaining information. She again isn’t wrong. You of course accept her advancements even though you know it's only for her mission. It isn’t until you show her that you're more than some mysterious cash cow.

“Hey I said I wanted to book you! Answer me!” Some drunken man had wandered in. Where the head lady was, no one knew. He was big, big enough to scare off the other braver seniors. You just so happened to be out walking your rounds before bed seeing the silhouette of a man hitting a woman. When you hastily slide away the door you see Hinatsuru on the floor being clung to by this animal. For a moment it ran through your head that she could kill him two times over if she wanted, but because of her duty she wouldn’t. You cleared your throat gaining his attention, he dropped her immediately. The sound of her body crumbling against the tatami mats, enraged you even further.

“I-I know you! Your Exotica-sama, a spirit of good fortune!” He moved to hold you like he was an old friend, leaving him wide open for your foot to raise up and smash down on his groin. He’ll fall to cradle it, crying like a baby in the meantime you rush over helping the shinobi up. You didn’t comfort her like you typically would, you knew she’d be more angry than sad. You held her shaking fists, whispering against the nape of her neck. “I know what you want to do. Stay calm. Let them deal with this.” She let out a breath accepting your hand and taking your advice. The man was still drunkenly crying on the ground, you in the meantime took a spilled cup of ink and poured it on his head; careful to avoid his eyes. In perfect timing the headwife, her husband, and some men that must have been called to help came and dragged him out. Now you were tired and you knew you’d have to take off everything and hopefully slip into blissful sleep without demon-intervention. You hastily left the scene leaving an amazed Hina to recall the encounter, helped by the other girls who had watched fearfully.

From there she looked at you more inquisitively. Who were you? To command a room and even be so wise and vengeful to have marked that man for his transgression against the Kyogoku house. You later did instruct the head-wife not to never buy business from him until he was no longer marked. Soon interest turned to respect and then became a love she hadn’t felt since she had first been chosen Lord Tengen. She would be sure to ask Lord Tengen about having you, she just couldn’t get enough. Not to mention how good you were with kids. The little handmaidens and the little boy from your main family all followed after you like ducks and you nurtured them with knowledge and wisdom. Because of her lifestyle she never thought of bringing children into this world, unless Lord Tengen wanted it. But maybe if you were a trained homebody taking care of the kids, then maybe it could be possible. She’d have to ask for Lord Tengen’s approval.

Makio-As snappy as she was, you matched her energy. Before she was trapped within the belt of Daki, you two had become accustomed to the banter you’d have together. She brought a type of snarkiness out of you that you often pushed away because of the way Exotica was supposed to be. You vaguely mentioned this after a laughing fit where you were left breathless. Being one of the first you met she was excited to see what you thought of her fellow wives. She hoped she was your favorite. When you did give her information specific to the house you hoped she was taking note but she seemed so into hanging around you that may have not come across properly. Thankfully though with a few more of your hints she’d get on the ball. At the time you were already anxious about trying to change the events of the story; what’s worse is that Daki had been extremely suspicious of her recently. During your tea session with the Oiran in hopes of dissuading her you buttered up about how awkward Makio was as a newbie. To add on top of that you gave her a massage and cuddled her but this unusually affectionate behavior caught someone’s attention.

You had been relaxing as you watched the moon fade in and out of view thanks to the dark clouds when you heard the sound of skin stretching and phony bones cracking. You told yourself to calm as you recognized the unnerving audible scritching of nails against skin.

“You thought I was stupid, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you're talking about. You're not anything like that.”

“Oh yeah,” The curving of Gyutarou’s gnarly hand carefully wrapping around your neck from behind stopping to hold your face. “Then what was with all the extra attention? You can fool my dumb baby sister but you can’t fool me. Why?”

He squeezed for emphasis. You fought down a gulp and then tried to speak, which was impossible because of how hard he was squeezing your cheeks. He let you go instead allowing himself to wrap possessively around your waist and chest.

“I only did it because she was so nervous about her losing my attention I just wanted to let her know that Makio isn’t a threat–Ghk!” You tried to keep your noise in as he squeezed your breast moving to angrily snarl.

“Sorry, I knew it bothered you both. Could you forgive me?” You tried to maintain your mask as you reached your free arm up to rub and scratch at his head. This appeased him, so he set you back on your futon and closed your blinds before returning back to Daki who seemed to have done the demon-equivalent of napping.

The next day, you were worried you wouldn’t see that familiar orange set of bangs. But much to your surprise she greeted you in a somber way. Perhaps Warabihime had threatened her or she just had a sixth sense but she requested to spend the day with you. Even as you ran errands, spoke with clients, and did your teaching with the young girls she stuck by your side. As the sun set and you packed to move to the next house, you could sense her anxiety. It would only be a few hours before they began to escort you to the Tokito house.

“Makio, I-Oh”

She held you in an intimate hug, holding your waist and guiding your head closer to hers.

“Listen to me (Y/n), “ She pulled your casual veil away to bring you close enough that your noses were touching. “Lord Tengen will come for me. I have no doubt about that. I just want to make sure that if I’m gone he’ll take you. “

“Wait, what?

“Don’t worry everything will work out, I love you!” She pecks your lips, lifting you to tightly squeeze you, before hastily leaving from your room. It wouldn’t be until a day or two later that it was determined that she had committed Ashinuke.

Suma–Despite your first meeting where you had relied on her for comfort the roles were very quickly reversed. She would whine about a lot of different things that she didn’t like about the preparation the women of the Tokito house went through.

“NO! NO! NO! (Y/n)-sama tell them to stop!”

“But Suma, you have to see how you’ll look with this on your eyes.”

“Hold her down please!”

“WAAAAAAHHH!!!”

Her crybaby ways from the original story were not exaggerated; she truly did it all the time. You fought the urge to go full-on Makio on her because she could be so unreasonable sometimes. But after a while you were able to see past it for the better parts of herself, others not so much.

“WAAAH (Y/n)-sama I need you to let me seeeeee! I can’t work if I don’t seeeee!”

“Please Exotica-sama! Just so that we don’t have to hear it anymore!”

Suma on the other hand loved this, loved you. You were on the level of Lord Tengen but weaker than her enough so that she could push you around as she pleased. This was great. Oftentimes she felt she needed to bring attention to herself to help Hina and Maki shine more. Unfortunately in the process it made her the annoying, little one but you weren’t hogged by anyone she couldn’t keep up with. It was selfish that she delighted when your unmasked eyes wandered to her cleavage or when you looked deeply into her eyes. It was like falling in love all over again. She knows her greatest weakness is her greatest strength like how when she bats her eyes at Lord Tengen he’s slightly more willing to let her get her way; it works on you just the same. She’s sure to explore options on including you in her life soon after this mission in her letters. Unfortunately her interest and whiney manipulations remind Oiran Warabihime a bit too much of herself, plus she’s beautiful. A nuisance and sustenance solved in one go.

#yanderes #yandere harem #yanderexrea #yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #yandere x you #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere uzui tengen #yandere uzui wives #exotica #yandere wives #yandere poly #yandere polyamorous #yandere hashira #yandere shinobi

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luvluvnitrodynamite · 3 years

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jealous jujutsu kaisen characters <3

ft. itadori yuuji, gojou satoru g/n!reader (sfw, with some suggestive themes in gojou)

itadori yuuji - watching itadori get jealous is a bit cute, if you're being honest. i mean, take what happened in the grocery store yesterday. ~ "yuuji, we're out of rice," you say to him, re-checking your list. "we're out of rice??? impossible. i just had some yesterday." you sigh. "be that as it may, that doesn't change the fact that we don't have it anymore. can you grab it really fast?" he pouts a bit. you're not sure if he genuinely doesn't want to leave your side or if he's just stalling to remember where the rice aisle is. regardless, you don't want to stand here all day. "yuuji, i'll give you a kiss as a reward if you get it for me." he perks up immediately, giving you a grin and a thumbs up before dashing in the opposite direction. you smile to yourself. itadori may have been an idiot, but he's your idiot. the thought warms your heart. you push your cart of the produce section and into a large selection of rows, choosing one closest to you. you seem to be in the tea aisle. oh good, you think. we've been out of tea for a couple of days now. you peruse the section, picking up some green tea. you get some chamomile as well, stacking the boxes carefully so they won't get crushed by fruits. mmm what about chai? you search the boxes, only to see it's at the very top self. you reach up, fingers just barely touching the platform it's on. you can't even brush up against the box. you try standing on tiptoes, looking a bit silly as you try to extend your body beyond its natural length. you're thinking maybe you should wait for itadori to get back when a different hand easily plucks the box off the shelf. you follow the hand to its owner, to see it belongs to a tall guy about your age. he's cute you suppose, but it's no itadori. still, you smile sweetly and charm him with a "thank you! there was no way I was going to reach that." He smiles broadly back at you. "No problem," he replies. "You like chai tea?" You want to be polite and he's nice enough, so you respond "definitely! I don't know if it's my favorite, but it's a staple in my pantry." He blushes a bit, and scratches his hand behind his neck. "Yeah, same," he says. "There's actually a really nice café that opened up a few blocks away from here. They make a mean cup of chai, and they have these delicious little cinnamon rolls that go really well with them. If you're free any time soon, do you want to try one with me?" You open your mouth to politely turn him down when you feel a protective arm wrap around your waist. You turn your head to see a pink-cheeked itadori glaring at the stranger. he does look mad, but you also think he just looks so cute. ah, the duality of man. "oh, hi yuuji! did you get the rice?," you ask him. you have priorities, after all. "yeah," he says, not moving his arm or his gaze. "who's this, love?" oh, he's really jealous if he's pulling out the love. you try to defuse the situation. "oh, this guy just helped me get some tea from the top shelf. thanks again!" you say. the guy was not expecting a wild itadori to emerge from the tall grass, and is trying to figure a way out. "no problem," he repeats. "i'll see you around, yeah?" without waiting for a response, he puts the tea in your cart and walks away. "did you know that guy?" you ask, as itadori relaxes and puts the rice in the cart. "no, but it sure looks like you did," he says, a bit annoyed. "yuuji, are you jealous?" you tease. "no! of course not!" he retorts. his cheeks are still pink though, and now he's looking around like he expecting another guy to run through and sweep you up in their arms. you decide to take mercy on him, and tug one of his hands in your own. "hey, don't i owe you a reward for getting my rice?" he perks up, and flicks his gaze almost imperceptibly towards your mouth. you sweetly press his lips to his cheek, and smile innocently when he gives you an annoyed look. you turn around to go the cart, only to see that the tea guy has returned. itadori sees him too, and he looks mad again. however, instead of confronting him, he looks at you and says,

"c'mon, i meant a real kiss." he gently places his hands on your face and pulls you in. it's a light, yet passionate kiss. the rhythm is slow and soft, but there's a definite intensity behind it. his tongue has just swiped your bottom lip, entering your mouth when you remember that you're in public. you pull away and glance at the end of the aisle. the guy is gone. you glance at itadori. he is grinning triumphantly at you. you smile in spite of yourself, going back over to the cart. "yuuji?" he comes over, wrapping his arms around you and placing his head over your shoulder. "yes, my love?" "you got the wrong kind of rice." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ gojou satoru - a jealous gojou is not a good gojou. if you think he's annoying normally, it's about to get so, so, so much worse. ~ "satoru please!" you beg. you're feeling desperate now, there's no other way out. you two have gone to the park for a picnic to savor one of his rare days off. the spot you chose was warm and sunny with few people around; the day was supposed to be lovely. and it was, at least for a while. you had spent just the last hour cloud-watching, peacefully pointing out odd shapes in the sky. really though, you were just taking an excuse to lay on his stomach and talk. you two get so little time together like this that you try to savor every moment. however, in your analysis of a banana-shaped cloud far on the horizon, you noticed a familiar shape. the shape of your ex, to be precise. you stiffen, and gojou notices. "hey," he says. "what's wrong?" you don't respond immediately; your mind is swirling with schemes to avoid them. if you guys packed up now, could you go without being noticed? no, you were too close. could you hide? no, there wasn't anywhere to duck behind. you had to stop time somehow, but how? gojou waves his hand over your face. "hey? everything ok down there? have you gone into the void?" he asks. you start to glare at him, but then his words hit you in the face. the void. he can draw your ex into the void while you make a hasty getaway. you sit up, dropping your angry look and switching to a more saccharine one. "satoru," you start. "can you do a favor for me?" he gives you an easy smile. "of course, anything for you," he replies. "great, can you trap the person in the white shirt over there into the infinite void?" that certainly gets his attention. "i'm sorry, what?" he asks incredulously. "ok, so that's my ex over there. things ended kind of...awkwardly, and I just don't want to deal with this right now. could you trap them into the void before they notice me?" "i don't think the relationship was the thing that was awkward love. maybe you should just, you know, face the problem head on?" he suggests. "it can't be that bad. and even if it is, at least it'll be entertaining. actually, i'll give you two some privacy!" he says cheerfully, and promptly leaves. that brings you to your current predicament. you could be responsible and mature, but that would involve getting over your breakup. you may have slightly understated the awkwardness of the situation. truthfully, you got dumped and you pined over your ex for weeks afterward. you especially did not take it when when you were being broken up with. you begged them not to leave you while crying, making quite the scene in the restaurant they had chosen. now, with no lingering emotions, you just feel guilty and embarrassed for how you acted. but that was in the past, and you could move past that as long as it wasn't walking up to you. and now with gojou walking away, and them walking up...oh no. oh no oh no ohnonono. you take a deep breath in, and breathe out. i'm not the same person i was then, you think to yourself. this thought steadies your nerves; in fact, maybe gojou was right. you have been wondering what they’ve been up to, after all, and you might stop feeling guilty if you apologize. a bright and cheerful “hey!!” jolts you out of your thoughts; there they are. “hey,” you respond, a bit less cheerfully. you push yourself up off the ground to

greet them, and are a bit surprised when they pull you into a hug. it’s a more intimate hug than you would have guessed, with their hands snaking around your waist and gently cradling your head. they smell...nice, you think to yourself. as you pull away, you feel watched. you’re not sure from where, since you can’t see him, but you know gojou is watching you. well, good. he refused to help you out of this mess, so maybe you’ll make him suffer a bit. neither one of you say anything for a second.. “so….i guess how are you?” they ask you, smiling. “i’m great,” you reply. “how are you?” you ask. “good.” you stand there, neither one of you wanting to interrupt the delicate silence. “so,” you both say at the same time. you guys laugh, and just like that, the weird silence dissipates. “you go first,” they say to you. “well, i just want to say that i’m sorry. i know breaking up was probably hard for you, but i think i just made it harder by, you know, being unable to let us go. that was unfair to you and it definitely made things harder for me, so i’m really sorry about that.” “oh, wow,” your ex say, a bit surprised. “well, that sort of contrasts what i’m about to say. i was going to say that you were right.” huh? what? you furrow your eyebrows together, and stare back with a bemused expression. “i was right?” you venture. “about...what?” your ex sheepishly scratches the back of their head, giving you an embarrassed smile. “about us, i mean. you kept telling me that we were better together, and that we would only be unhappy apart. i know it’s been a while since we were together, but lately it’s all i can think about. i….still think i love you.” well, that was a bombshell. you just stare at them, stunned into silence. “sorry, i know that this is way too much for just meeting again; you just looked so beautiful and it reminded me of when we were together and i just miss being together and -- ah, i’m rambling like a crazy person now, aren’t i?” they wryly ask. you giggle. “just a bit,” you respond. they take your hands into theirs, tracing their thumb lightly over your skin. their eyes are honest, and their face is hopeful. “i know this is really sudden, but would you maybe want to get dinner with me soon? you don’t have to, of course, but…?” they pull one hand out, and drift it up to your face, caressing your jawline with such care that if you were not previously engaged, you might have melted into their arms right there. but you already had a boyfriend, even if he was an annoying one. you thought briefly about pretending to accept their offer, just to needle him, but decided against it. instead, you just kindly smiled at your ex, and pull their hand from your face. “this is really sweet,” you say. “but, unfortunately, i’m already taken.” their face falls, but they quickly mask it with a smile. “ah, i get it. someone as amazing as you would get snapped up fast. it was just my mistake to let you go,” they say, pulling back. “well, why don’t we start over with this. how about instead of a romantic dinner date, we just get coffee sometime. no love attached,” they add. “sure,” you respond. “i have been wanting to know what you’ve been up to.” “same here, how about tomorrow at 11?” they ask. “it’s a date!” you joke. “now, what’s a date?” you hear a familiar, slightly pouty voice from behind you. of course. why wouldn’t gojou appear at the worst possible time. you turn to your boyfriend, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. he’s planning something, but what? “hey ‘toru, this is my ex." you face your ex. "this is my boyfriend, gojou satoru." your ex smiles at him, blissfully unaware. "nice to meet you. we were just planning on getting some coffee soon." “oh, is that so? you’re not trying to steal my love away from me, are you?” there’s no threat in his voice, no hostility, but all the same your ex seems to pick up on his vexing energy and straightens up a little bit. “no, of course not,” they say. “hmmm, i believe you. but all the same, i could have sworn i heard talk of

a date. that reminds me love, weren’t we just finishing up on a date ourselves?” you sigh. “yes, we were.” turning to your ex, you turn back to say goodbye. that, however, is cut off by your lovely boyfriend picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. shocked, you pound your fists against his back. “gojou satoru, put me down right now.” gojou ignores you, instead sticking one hand out to shake your ex’s hand. “sorry to cut this short, but we simply must finish our date back at our place. wish i could invite you, but this is a more private activity.” he cheerfully states. mortified, you start kicking him and hitting him even harder. “ ‘toru! put me down so i can dump you right here and now!” “ahh, can’t have that now. we’d best get going so that someone learns a lesson, see you around!” with that and a quick sweep down to gather the picnic supplies, gojou carries you kicking and screaming out of the park. once outside, he puts you down. “satoru, what the absolute hell was that??? that was so embarrassing!” you cry out. “it was your idea to let me deal with that, and then you swoop in once it’s all taken care of? now they’re going to think i’m...i’m... i don’t even know what they’ll think of me, but i’m sure it won’t be positive!” “shhhh,” says gojou. “you might make a scene.” if you were mad before, well, now you’re apoplectic. “a scene???? i might make a scene?” you spit out seethingly. the entire way home, you tear into him for embarrassing you in front of your ex and an entire park full of people. finally, you get home and you drop the j-word. “and all this because you were just jealous??” now that you’ve dropped the threshold of your front door and pulled the trigger, gojou’s entire demeanor shifts. he drops the picnic supplies and picks you up again, but instead of going over his shoulder you’re now up against the wall. you instinctively wrap your arms and legs around him to keep from falling, skillfully intertwining your bodies together. his blindfold has slipped off, and now his piercing blue eyes are pouring into yours with a powerful intensity. your previous angry words slip off into the void, as you’re transfixed by the way he’s staring at you. he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses just barely touching. “yeah,” he breathes. “i got jealous. i let an ex come up to you and try to take you away, and i only sat there and watched. i knew you would never cheat on me, but i just got annoyed with myself for encouraging that. you mean too much to me to just let you be taken by someone else, so i really wanted to get you out of there as fast as possible. so, yeah, i’m sorry for embarrassing you. let me make it up to you?” it’s hard to say no in this position, but you try to hold your resolve. “satoru, you just can’t do that. promise me you’ll never do that again?” he’s still looking at you with that seriousness, so he replies “yes” with uncharacteristic sincerity. there’s nothing out of character though about the way he moves in to kiss you though, full of desire and need. you fall into a steady rhythm, a sweet push-and-pull of dominance flicking between you two. gojou suddenly takes over, and just as suddenly, he pulls away and starts carrying you to the nearest flat surface. “let me show you how much you mean to me, yeah?”

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years

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Black Ice (one-shot)

Synopsis: Black ice is considered one of the most dangerous winter weather phenomenon. It appears after it’s rained or snow has melted and then the rapidly cooling air freezes it, leaving it as a shiny black mirror on the ground. A deadly shiny black mirror.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: swearing, mentions of hospitals and injuries

Word count: 8852

“God, Harry, it’s just one night!” Y/N exasperated, throwing her hands in the air. “One fucking night I wanna go out with my friends and have some fun. Is that really too much to ask?”

“I haven’t seen you in two months!” he snapped back. “So, please fucking forgive me that I wanna spend a night in with my girlfriend and have her say ‘no’ one time, and make me a priority. Is it so hard to reschedule?”

“Yes, Harry it is!” Y/N stood her ground. “Adam and I have been talking about this for three weeks before we could set a date and meet up. He fucking flew out here! To London! And it’s not my fault you haven’t been home in two months, so don’t put that on me.”

“No,” he shook his head pointing a finger at her. “Don’t pull that shit on me. You knew about my job, you know how it can be, how much I have to travel.”

“I get that, and I’d get your anger if I was fucking off with my friends on our anniversary without any notice or some shit, but I’m not! I made these plans ages ago. I told you about them! How could I have known you’d decide to ‘surprise’ me a week early?”

But the thing for Harry was – he did think there was an anniversary to celebrate. It wasn’t an official one, and he hadn’t told Y/N how much the date meant, but that day was the day they’d met a year prior.

***

He was in the middle of filming ‘Darling Don’t Worry’. This time they'd flown out of California to shoot a scene in the middle of the woods, in the cold of November, which as exciting as it was to have his acting career flourish, Harry wasn't too happy about freezing his ass off in the middle of nowhere.

Y/N, however, lived right next to those woods, her family house having been there for generations, while the location scouts of the movie had chosen the location because the aesthetic could double as the location of the woods behind the mansion.

Y/N’d been out on her daily run (well, daily complaining because Y/N, with all her being, hated running, and thought it was a sign you were a masochist. But her best friend Adam loved running and hated going alone, so he bribed her with the promise of pizza afterwards), when they’d run into pitched white tents, filming equipment and barriers encasing a part of the path they were on.

Adam’s eyebrows furrowed as he slowed his pace, and Y/N thanked god for that because she felt like she was about to pass out.

“What’s going on here?”

“Dunno,” Y/N huffed. “But we should probably leave.”

But instead, Adam grabbed her by the bicep, dragging her forward to the set. “Nope. Come on.”

“Adam!” she hissed. “What the fuck are you – “

“Hi!” He flashed a woman standing by the railing a smile. “Could you-uh-tell us what’s going on? Why’s the path blocked?”

“A movie’s being filmed. Sorry for the disturbance.”

“Mhm, and when do you think you’ll be leaving?”

That she hadn’t expected, given how typically when people saw a movie set, they’d be more than intrigued in getting into a shot or finding out about who were the stars, not when they’d be going away.

“Oh, uh,” she stammered. “I’m not too sure. Depends if the snow starts falling and how much we manage to shoot. Sorry. But uh, would you be so kind and find a path around?”

Y/N jumped in, flashing her a kind smile. “Yes, thank you. So sorry to have disturb –“

“You do realise this is a public place?” Adam raised an eyebrow. “We have a right to be here.”

“Adam, shut up,” Y/N groaned. “We can run around them, it’s not a big deal.”

“But this is our route!”

“Adam for fuck’s sake! It’s the woods, you don’t own them!”

“Exactly!” he said. “And neither do they! They have no rights to infringe on our ability to get to the sea.”

That’s when Harry had noticed her, and to this day Y/N had no clue as to why he’d fallen for her. He was conversing with Florence about the upcoming scene when his ears caught the very end of the conversation, green eyes snapping to where two people in running tracksuits stood.

One of them was a tall burly man, muscles practically ripping apart his clothes at the seams, the other was a shorter woman, hands-on-hips, hair kept away by a headband which also covered her ears, and the most done expression on her face as she glared at her companion.

They were talking with a nervous assistant; Harry could see by her stature and how her head kept snapping to the side in hopes of finding someone above her to deal with the two strangers.

“Adam, I swear to god, I’ll punch you." Harry heard the woman exclaim. "Leave the girl alone! We can run around.”

“But I –“

“Adam!”

“Fine,” he grumbled as he threw the assistant and apologetic look. “Sorry.”

“ ‘S okay. Have my preferred cycling route as well, so yeah… Sorry.”

Harry watched as the woman next to the person, Adam, shook her head and gestured to where the barriers curved around, starting up on a slow jog, and when they passed where he was standing by the trailers, he could hear them still arguing.

“Oh my god,” Harry heard her whisper while looking at the ground. “I’m friends with a fucking Karen.”

“I am NOT a – you’re Harry Fucking Styles!” Adam shouted so hard, it startled Y/N, and when she looked over, it was like a deer in headlights before relaxing and both of them slowed their pace.

“Sorry,” she gave him an awkward glance. “He’s a fan, but we’ll be going and stop bothering you...”

“No, no,” Harry shook his head, putting his hands in his coat’s pockets and smiling. “ ‘S alright, you’re no bother. I’m always happy to talk to a fan.”

“Yes, well, don’t encourage him. Soon enough, you’ll be besties, and Adam here’ll be turning your life into absolute chaos.”

He scoffed looking down at his friend. “I’d like to think I’m taking you out of your boring routine, Y/N, and giving it some spice.”

“Anyway,” she gritted out. “It was lovely to meet you, but uh, we should probably be on our way. You have to be somewhere.”

Y/N’s eyes glanced over Harry’s shoulder, where a nervous AD stood, bouncing on her feet, a weary smile on her face as she caught the singer’s eyes and motioned with her head he was needed back on set.

Harry nodded and wanted to turn back to tell the two to come by whenever they wanted (well mainly Y/N), but when he turned around, the two were already quite a few feet away. Just as he was about to leave, he heard Y/N shout, “Congratulations on the three Grammy nominations, by the way. ‘Fine Line’ was amazing.”

“And that’s a compliment!” Adam hollered jogging backwards. “She only listens to shit from the early 2000s.”

“Adam, shut up!”

With that, Harry was left to watch the two disappear behind the trees, a feeling he was quite familiar with settling in his chest.

It was three days later, when he saw Y/N approaching the set barriers, hands in her pockets, as she rolled her neck. Their eyes met, and even, from the distance, he could see her smile split apart her face, but when she just waved without the intention of coming any closer to the lot, Harry rushed to the side calling out to her. “Hey!”

“Hey!” Y/N responded chuckling and ducking her head down. “You alright?”

“ ‘M alive. How ‘bout you? You doin’ fine?’”

“The bar’s so low?”

“I guess. Won’t be able to get you to nurse me back to health though, which is why I’m in the cold again.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at Harry. “If you wanted to see me, there's no need to lose limbs or bits of yourself.”

Harry hadn’t expected her to be so upfront, but he couldn’t lie and say he didn’t like it. Made it easier for him to understand if his advances were welcome or if he should back off. “So uh, no Adam today?”

“No, he has a late shift at work. Which means I’m spared from the running.”

“Not a fan?” he looked at her with a quirked brow, seemingly saying ‘you’re sure dressed like you are’.

“Do I look like someone who likes stabbing pain in her side and having her heart ripped out of her chest?

“You’re just not breathing properly.”

Y/N sighed. “If one of you gives me any more advice about how to properly run when I don’t even want to run, I swear I’ll stab you.”

“Okay!” he threw his hands up in surrender, laughing. “No more talk about running if I wanna keep my head on my shoulders. Where are you uh going? You don’t have to answer, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Y/N squealed on the inside, but bit her lip to keep the grin away. She’d been dying to talk to Harry since they’d briefly met but had no real reason. Not that she had one now, but she’d had a horrible day at work and needed to clear her head, and what was better than the forest air (also she could scream there without anyone really caring). “You’re not, so don’t worry. I’m uh I’m going to the sea.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose. “There’s sea nearby?”

“You’re like a fifteen-minute walk away from it,” she chuckled, stuffing her hands in her coat’s pockets. “Should really be more aware of your surroundings.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Y/N tilted her head. “Yeah, you’re kind of right. But it’s places like these where you can find the best spots.”

“Will you show me then?”

She looked at him with an unreadable expression, and he could only hope his nervousness wasn’t as apparent, because Harry was more than convinced his erratically beating heart could be heard miles away. But then she nodded, giving him a wide grin, making one of his own bloom on his face.

“You sure you won’t freeze on your way there?” she said in a sarcastic tone eyeing him up and down, and Harry shoved her a bit.

He donned one of the standard down-jackets issued for the movie with winter boots, but given the costume underneath, he was chilled to the bone. “It’s bloody cold, and my toes are freezing off. How are you still standing?”

“Insulated shoes and thermal clothes. Kinda boiling actually.”

“I should steal ‘em.” He smiled at her. “Probably have frostbite by now.”

“Wow, you people from the South UK really are weak.”

Harry’s gasp made her smile as wide as a Cheshire cat. “How dare you!” He dramatically placed a hand on his chest, Y/N’s laughter erupting through the air. It cut through the yells and shouts from the filming crew, and made a warmth spread in his chest. “How do you know about the South versus North? You don’t sound like you’re from the UK.”

“Studied there for three years; had loads of flatmates from all around, let alone course mates.” Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “And to say that I thrived on the chaos was when you said North was better than the South would be an understatement.”

“Well, I guess I know where your loyalties lie.”

“Did you expect me to immediately swoon over you?” Y/N batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, Mr Harry Styles. Your voice in ‘Kiwi’ was so good it fucked me to cloud nine. Will you please do that to me with your dick instead? Which you should take as a compliment again, considering kiwi is the only thing I’m allergic to.”

“Wait,” he looked at her, eyebrows up to the middle of his forehead. “So you have heard my stuff?”

“Well, I don’t live completely under a rock. I did say 'Fine Line' was amazing.”

“But you don’t really like it?”

Y/N shook her head. “ ‘S not that I don’t like yours or other pop stuff, ‘s just that I have a preference, and I guess it’s, as Adam said, ‘early 2000s shit’.”

A sly smile appeared on Harry’s face. “But could that include by any chance 'One Direction'?”

“Afraid not,” Y/N sighed giving him a pout. “When you came onto the scene, my heart was already taken by a boyband. And I can be a lot of things, but I most definitely a loyal bitch.”

“One band at a time kind of gal?”

“Exactly.” She beamed. God Harry had never wanted to kiss a person that bad.

“Duly noted, but I will need to know who they are, and how many graves do I have to dig? You know, for research purposes.”

“Going method now?”

“What’dya mean?”

Y/N shrugged sniffling a bit from the frosty weather. “Looked up a little bit about the movie. Need to know what kind of people might be around in the area. Psychological thriller. Wife. Rich husband. A dark secret. My guess – someone’s dead and buried. Also, the huge pit we walked past was kind of a give-away.”

He paused for a second before nodding. “Fair enough.”

A comfortable silence fell between the two as Y/N motioned with her head to where they needed to turn and made their way onto a new path when she spoke. “ ‘S not that I wasn’t a fan,” Y/N shrugged glancing at Harry from the side. “The songs were really catchy, but I guess I got tired of them? Like they were on the radio so much, it was a relief I didn’t have to hear the five of you singing about how I don’t know I’m beautiful.”

Harry threw his head back in a laugh. “Don’t worry. Sometimes we’d get sick of it ourselves. But umm, ‘Fine Line’… You said you liked it… Do ya’ have a favourite song?”

Y/N cringed. “Is it cliché if I say ‘Golden’? Because it’s ‘Golden’. I’m a sucker for a slow and then a ‘bam!’ kind of an opening.”

Harry shook his head. Now he was the one biting back a grin. “ ‘S not cliché. Was one of my favourites to write, so I’m glad you appreciate it.”

“Also, it makes me feel sunny? If that makes sense? Like – like when I listen to it, I feel warm and safe and just happy...”

He’d be lying if he said his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest at her words. Warm. Safe. Sunny. “Well,” Harry cleared his throat to keep the words ‘One day I’ll marry you’ at bay. Fuck, he'd only known her for like twenty minutes! “I’m glad you like it more than my previous stuff.”

“You just love putting me in uncomfortable situations, don’t you?”

He smiled, nudging her shoulder with his, and was just about gearing up to take a breath and ask Y/N out (before he could ask to marry her), when quick steps from behind him drew their attention.

Dressed in a typical 50s housewife dress with a black coat on top, Florence Pugh came to stand beside them, and Harry swore he saw mischief twinkle in her eyes as she raked them over both people and then settled on Harry’s companion.

“Hi!” she said giving Y/N a bright smile, and a wink to Harry, which passed the other girl’s head, given how she was absolutely fangirling right now. “I’m Florence.”

“I – yeah – I – you – I love you,” Y/N finally breathed out. “Fuck, I just, you know, 'Midsommar' was a fever dream, but I absolutely loved it, and I can’t wait for 'Black Widow' to come out. Oh my god, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Please don’t.” She laughed grabbing onto Y/N’s shoulder. “Feels like I already know you, but I’ve been dying to meet you actually. Created quite the commotion yesterday.”

You know how they say men can think of absolutely nothing, like have a completely blank page in their head? Yeah, Y/N was having that exact moment.

Florence tutted crossing her arms over her chest and looking at Harry with mock disappointment. “But Harry here just kept talking about you, without any intention of inviting you to the trailers, so I had to take things into my own hands.”

“You’ve been wanting to meet me?” Y/N breathed out, hands going into her hair, looking at Harry. “Oh my god, what is happening? Am I hallucinating?”

“No, you’re not,” Harry grumbled glaring at Florence. “Unfortunately. But we were on our way to the sea, so I’ll see you back on se-“

“Hello there,” Chris Pine’s smooth voice interrupted them, as he extended a hand for Y/N to shake as he jogged up to the trio. “I’m Chris.”

“Wow, your eyes are even bluer in real life.” Her own Y/E/C ones widened. “Did I just say that out loud?”

“You did,” Chris chuckled, “but I most certainly take it as a compliment. You said you were going to the sea?”

“Uh, yeah,” Y/N breathed out still gazing into Pine’s eyes. “Wanna join?”

Harry wanted to scream, but he couldn’t really. As much he wanted to tell both Florence and Chris to go away, he didn't. Seeing Y/N’s eyes light up as the two other actors conversed with her, laughed and joked around, made his heart expand.

It was insane to him, that a woman he’d seen twice in his life could have such a huge impact. It was like she’d been his missing part. Well, no. Harry didn’t like that notion – that the ‘right’ person would complete someone. People were complete on their own, but it was true to him that there was someone out there that’d make each and every moment special, someone who would help the other become better, but also hold them accountable when needed.

They wandered around the seashore, which like Y/N had said, was a fifteen-minute walk, for about half an hour before turning back to the woods.

By that point, she’d somewhat calmed down, and could actually comprehend what Chris and Florence were saying to her, and it was rather enjoyable to ask all the questions about Hollywood and the industry most people wouldn’t say on the record.

At around four PM when all of them got back to set and Olivia came to tell them they were wrapping up for the day, Florence, and Chris split from Y/N, telling her to come by whenever she wanted, while Harry said he’d walk her to the end of the trail.

“You know I’ll be fine. I grew up here, know these paths like the back of my hand.”

“ ‘S alright,” he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m sure they won’t mind much if I come back ten minutes later.”

“You know, you’re not how I thought you’d be.”

“What’dya mean?”

“I – I don’t even really know… just not how I imagined you.”

Harry didn’t know what to really do with that information, but the look on Y/N’s face most definitely didn’t seem like she meant it in a bad way. In fact, her shy smile and fleeting glances told him otherwise. At least he hoped he read her features right.

They said goodbye with soft ‘see you laters' and he watched her throw one last glance at him over her shoulder before he himself retreated and ventured to the trailers to start de-shedding the character of Jack for the night.

Harry plopped down in his seat with a groan, fishing out his phone from the pocket while the hair and make-up team did their work, taking the products off his face before applying moisturiser to the stressed skin.

Florence poked him in the cheek, and he swatted away at her hand, looking up from Instagram (or his attempts to find Y/N with just knowing her first name). “What’s wrong?” she asked, poking his pouting face again.

“She literally fangirled about everyone but me.” He huffed sliding down even further in his seat.

Florence raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, Styles?”

“No,” he scoffed crossing his arms. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because literally both mornings that we've got here, you’ve been fidgety, keeping a watch of the path, and didn't calm down until Y/N appeared just now. So I’d say you’re absolutely smitten with the girl and are jealous because she’s more of a fan of us than you.”

“I know she likes me.” His eyebrows furrowed. “I think. She hasn’t told me to fuck off.”

“She’s a stranger you met in the middle of the woods. You should hope she likes you. But not too much. Otherwise, it could so easily become a scene out of a horror movie.”

Chris bit his lip looking at Olivia, who’d come in the trailer after having seen the group come back with an almost heartbroken gaze – it was clear as a summer’s day Harry was struck by the girl, but they had to face the music. “Harry,” he started. “You – you do realise we end filming here in two weeks, right? And she’s a local.”

“And?” his eyebrows furrowed at Chris’ words.

“You’ll be leaving in two weeks for another three months of filming, while she stays here. I don’t – I don’t want to see you hurt, but you have to realise that most likely nothing will happen.”

“And what makes you say that? Maybe she could come with.”

“Y/N is her own person with her own life, job and friends, which, as it seems is all set here.”

“Besides you don't really even know her,” Olivia said as well. “It's been two days."

“Sometimes a day is enough.”

A silence settled over them, as Harry tapped his phone against his nails.

“You guys, come on!” Florence came to his defence. “He likes her. Why not give it a shot?”

He'd flashed her a thankful smile and mouthed a 'thank you' to which she just gave him an encouraging nod. She was on his side. She believed he could do it. And he did. Using Florence's faith in him as a catalyst, a day later when Y/N had gone on her run with Adam, Harry had excused himself and joined the two.

Adam was thrilled to the bone, but he was also competitive, so after ten minutes of trying to persuade the woman to run faster so he could beat his previous time, he took off on his own, with a promise of meeting up by the shore. That’s when Harry grabbed Y/N by her bicep and stalled them both, confusion written all over her features.

“I uh,” he started. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

“I – “ he stuttered taking in a deep breath. “I – uh – and you have zero obligations to respond, but uh – I was wondering if you’d like to go on a date with me sometime?”

That made Y/N do a double-take. “You want to go out? On a date? With me?”

“Ye – yeah.” It was uncertain how the word came out, but it felt so good to say it. “Yes, I really do.”

“Sorry.” She shook her head looking at the ground with furrowed brows. “Sorry’s just, kinda hard to believe it.”

“ ‘Nd why’s that?”

“Well because the first time we met, I looked like a sweaty mess, the second, I could barely function around your friends and co-workers, and now, well now I look like a sweaty mess again.”

“So?”

“I just –” Y/N laughed but waved him off. “Never mind.”

Fear instantly took hold of his core at her statement, so he rushed to salvage what could be salvaged. “No, I mean if you don’t want, you - you don’t have to say ‘yes’. I’m not gonna be upset or any –“

“Harry!” This time Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder to stop his ramblings. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“You – you would?”

“Yes.” Her smile blinded him like the golden rays of sun which broke through the overcast sky. “I’d like to very much so.”

But it was Y/N’s tearful huff, a storm cloud compared to the warm light from his memories, which brought him out of the fond thoughts and into the icy right now.

“Because unless it revolves around Harry Styles, it doesn’t matter, right?” she let out a pained laugh. “Because unless he’s there to have all the spotlight on him, it’s not important. Unless it’s not something he wants to take part in, it immediately needs to be cancelled or rescheduled because god forbid someone made plans without him.”

He grunted in disagreement. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

“No,” she snapped, snatching her purse and coat. “I get it. Very clearly. I’ll show myself out.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

She scoffed, glaring at him. “Call me when you get your head out of your ass.”

The door slammed shut, and Harry sat down onto the sofa to scream into a pillow.

***

Y/N’s sight was blurry as she drove down the street. A light snow had started to fall over London, so she was twice as careful, knowing Londoners had zero clue how to function when snow hit, and no one had winter tires.

“Fuck,” she choked out, wiping away at her cheeks.

She’d had fights with Harry before, it wasn’t like they were perfect. From the outside they looked like nothing could ever be wrong, but they were human. They had flaws and tempers and ideas and beliefs, and sometimes they clashed, but it’d never been as bad as it was that night.

She loved Harry, Y/N truly did. She’d even had dreams of the two of them in some far-off cottage in the Italian mountains living a domestic life, but she also just wanted one night to herself. To let loose and think about her own needs and wants, while Harry was away doing the same. It wasn’t selfish, not in her mind.

It’d been her who’d uprooted her whole life to be closer to Harry, not the other way around. She was always the one cancelling and making new plans with her family or friends just so she could spend a spare second with Harry. She was there for his sleepless nights and there for his knock-out concerts. Why couldn't he let her have this one thing?

She was sitting by the wheel at a red light taking in deep breaths to calm herself down.

The light turned green, and her hand was slightly shaking as she changed gears.

Y/N released the clutch and pressed down on the gas.

Two lights came rushing from the side.

She gasped.

A sharp pain went through her side.

And then it was all black.

***

Anne was going to rip Harry a new one, as she rang him for the fifteenth time, but he still didn't pick up. After the accident and the nurses being unable to contact Harry, they obviously called Y/N’s parents which were next on the emergency contact's list, but given how they lived outside of the UK and the next flight was only in four days, they immediately reached out to Anne, begging for her to go be with their daughter while they got there.

“And please tell Harry to fly over as well!” Y/N’s mum had cried. “I – I know he has work, but please.”

Anne had been shocked to hear Y/M/N ask that, having assumed he was already there, but she wasn’t going to let them get to Harry before she set him straight herself.

In the beginning, she’d been kind of sceptical, but after spending an evening together where Y/N, her and Gemma all did wine baking, and it had ended up in a disaster in the kitchen with the three of them crying from laughter while Harry stood at the entrance completely baffled and just so done with them, Anne knew Y/N only had good intentions with her son.

Anne’s love for her only grew from that point on, when she also realised just how much Y/N’s love language was giving. It wasn’t the kind of ‘hey, look, I bought you some fancy thing, now love me’, it was ‘hey, I saw how much you wanted this, I noticed how much it’d mean to you, and I love how happy it makes you. And if it reminds you of me, that’s just a bonus’, and Anne couldn’t help but become as protective of Y/N as her own kids.

But at that moment, as finally, after her twenty-seventh attempt, Harry picked up with a gruff ‘ ‘ello?’, Anne was about to burst with rage.

“You get to the hospital right now!” she hissed into the phone.

“What are you talking about?” There was a tremble in his voice.

The thing was, for two days since Y/N had stormed out, Harry’d been feeling sick. He thought it was due to the stress from the fight and from the pressure his label was putting on him, but now he understood it wasn’t that. It was his instinct telling him something bad had happened, and at Anne’s words, the bad feeling that’d settled in his stomach made his blood run cold. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

“Y/N was in a car accident, and you didn’t bother to pick up your phone.”

“I –” He stammered unable to process her words. “What? Mum? No…”

“You’re her emergency contact,” Anne spoke. “The hospital tried to call you a billion times, and you didn’t pick up.”

And that’s when he remembered all of those calls from unknown numbers. He thought they’d been some crazed fans who’d gotten his personal number, so he’d just blocked them. “Mum, no.” Harry choked out. “I didn’t mean to – we fought – mum…”

“She’s at St. Helen’s. Please get here.”

He immediately ended the call, and in the span of twenty minutes was at the hospital, which Anne was sure to scold him for because there was no way in hell anyone who didn’t speed would be able to get to St. Helen’s in less than forty minutes. The second she saw her son burst through the door, tear tracks down his face, all the anger and disappointment vanished.

“Where is she? Is she alive? Y/N!” he yelled across the hallway. “Where is she? Mum! Where’s Y/N?”

“Gem.” She patted her daughter’s knee as both of them stood up from where they’d been sitting at the chairs outside the recovery room assigned to Y/N. “Get a nurse, please.”

Gemma didn’t need an explanation or reasoning seeing Harry’s wild eyes, erratic breathing and shaky hands.

“Mum!” He practically sprinted after seeing the woman, grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Calm down, Harry,” she shushed him, pulling him in for a hug and feeling his whole body tremble. “Calm down, it’s alright. Gem’ll get you some help, but you need to breathe.”

“I – I’m not the one who needs help!” Harry pretty much screamed. “I need to know if my girlfriend is alive.”

Anne spoke in a calm voice as to not agitate him even more, and her heart broke at the sight of her son so utterly broken. “Harry, you’re about to have a panic attack, and you’re no use to Y/N in that kind of state.”

“So.” He took in a chocked back breath. “So she’s alive?” He didn’t know what he’d do if the answer was anything else but a resounding ‘yes’. There was no version in his brain of where his life could possibly lead but down if he had to go on without Y/N.

“Yes,” Anne nodded, smoothing his hair away from his face, and watching as he took in a deep breath of relief. “She was just wheeled in for her second surgery. Should be out in about four hours. ”

All over again his insides froze. “Second? Mum, tell me the truth – how bad is it?”

“Harry, this is routine,” Gemma put a reassuring hand on his shoulder having returned with a nurse behind her, the man keeping a close eye on Harry and his behaviour. “They did as much as they could the first time, but their priority was on the worst injuries. This one is just to set things properly.”

“Set everything right like – “

“Like bones and stuff…” Gemma shuddered, trailing off. “Y/N broke her hip, dislocated her kneecap, her ankle was shattered and she fractured her collarbone. They took her in so that the bones could be properly placed together and there’s a lesser chance of complications not only while healing but later on in life. But can you please sit down? So they can help you as well?”

“I – alright,” he conceded, taking a place on one of the stiff plastic benches, as the nurse came to him, took his pulse, gave him an inhalator just in case and some herbal tablets to help him relax a bit.

“You said they focused on the worst injuries.” Harry looked at his mother. “What were those?”

Anne sighed, leaning to sit back on the chair next to him and ran a hand through his hair. “A piece of debris punctured one of her kidneys. The bleeding was pretty intense, but they say it was salvageable, so she’ll still have both of them. Gem donated some blood.”

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, looking over at his sister who wiped a stray tear away from his cheek.

She shook her head. “There’s nothing to thank me for. Y/N is family. If she’d lost the kidney, I’d give her mine in a second.”

“The worst they’re worried about is the head injuries,” Anne said. “Luckily, she got away without anything major, but she definitely has a concussion and minor whiplash to her neck, so they want to keep an eye out for any side effects that could arise. They have another surgery scheduled for her in a week if recovery goes as planned. To take the stitches that won’t dissolve out and put in the ones that will.”

Harry sagged against his mother’s side, her palms soothingly running up and down his back. “She’s gonna be alright, love,” Anne muttered in his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple. “She’s strong. She’ll be okay.”

It was comforting for both of them – for Anne to have her youngest in her arms, to know he was safe and sound, and for Harry to be held by his mother, the person who always knew how to comfort him when times were rough, and at that moment, they were the roughest they’d ever been.

“You’ve got some nerve to be here.” Adam’s seething voice pulled Harry away from his mother’s embrace and watched as he rounded the corner with a coffee cup. He was quite sure he was keeping his temper well in check from how hard he was gripping the Styrofoam cup. “Fucking ignore her for two days while she’s laying in the hospital, and appear when it’s convenient for you? Is she some fucking toy for you to use when you want?”

Anne’s tone was consoling and pleading. “He didn’t know.”

“The hell he didn’t, he just didn’t want to know! They called you!” Adam pointed at the nurse’s desk. “And you let them go to voicemail. And then, better yet, you fucking blocked the number.”

“I didn’t know it was the hospital,” he weakly defended himself.

“Because you didn’t bother to find out.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that. And not that he really could think of anything when the surgery ward’s doors swung open and they watched as a nurse wheeled Y/N’s gurney back inside the room, while another wheeled her saline bag along with.

It was a terrifying sight to see. Her face was basically nothing but a swollen piece of flesh, bruises and scratches littering her cheeks, a neck brace to keep her head from moving while one leg was wrapped in a full-on cast, the other in one up until her knee and her left arm was in a sling.

He’d had nightmares about her before. Most of the times it was about Y/N leaving him because she could no longer do it, could no longer commit to the hectic lifestyle that came with Harry, and as he screamed, banging on the invisible window that separated them, she just walked away, his sobs carried by the wind in the other direction.

“You should go inside,” Anne whispered motioning with her head to where the nurses checked the monitors and how stable Y/N was. “I know you had a fight, but she’ll want you to be there when she wakes up.”

“How,” Harry gulped back the lump that’d risen in his throat. “How do you know? How do you know she doesn’t want me to just disappear? I wasn’t there when she needed me, I was – “

Anne put her hand on his cheek. “Because when she woke up yesterday morning for the first time, you were the first person she asked for. You. She wants you there. And it’s the least you can do for her.”

He nodded, then took a deep breath and entered Y/N’s room. Watching her lay in the bed, unmoving, without her usual grumpy features as she slept, made Harry sick to the stomach so much so, he thought he’d have to call back the nurse.

It was some twisted version of Sleeping Beauty, yet he knew a true loves kiss wouldn’t awaken her. Y/N just laid there, small breaths making her chest rise and fall, not even a flutter of her eyelids.

Harry had spent countless night watching her sleep, looking at how her lashes fluttered as she dreamed of something; how her forehead creased and small, incoherent noises passed her lips as she talked to someone in her mind.

Now, he was surrounded by none of that, only artificial reminders that she was still alive and fighting to get better.

With uneven steps, Harry made his way to the chair which’d been stationed next to her bed (he was convinced beyond belief that Gemma, his mum and Adam had all taken shifts to sit there, to be there for Y/N), and much like a king who knew he was unfit for the throne, Harry had to swallow a lump as he took the seat.

“I – I don’t know if you can hear me…” Harry took hold of Y/N’s palm and let out a sob of relief when he felt it was warm, not cold like he’d feared. “But I’m here for you. I’m not leaving. Not unless you want me to, so until you wake up…” there were so many words, so many apologies he wanted to say, but kept them at bay. Y/N deserved to hear them when she was conscious, so instead, he said, “I’m here, lovie. Get some rest, I’ll be here…”

With that he put his head on the side of her bed, twisting his face so he could look up at her, watch her chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, and fell asleep to the sound the beeps of Y/N’s beating heart.

While he slept he dreamt again, the same terrifying dream of Y/N leaving, only this time she did look back at him, but her face was all wrong, her neck bent in a way it shouldn’t be, and eyes covered in a milky white.

“You weren’t there, Harry,” she said in a voice void of emotions. “So why should I be there for you?”

Harry was 100% sure if he’d been hooked up to a heart rate monitor while he slept, people would think he was going into cardiac arrest, but it sure would’ve shown it flatlining as his green eyes swept over his lover’s frame to check his nightmare hadn’t become a reality, only to be met with two Y/E/C sparkling orbs looking back at him, giving him the softest gaze in the universe.

“Hey,” Harry’s tone was quiet, afraid to bring even the littlest of discomfort to Y/N given her state, and he had to physically restrain himself from sweeping down to bring her in a hug.

What he saw on her face made his heart leap to his throat, as she smiled, genuinely happy to see him, lifting up her right hand, the only limb without a bandage on to cup his cheek. “Hey, love.” Her voice was scratchy like nails on a chalkboard, but to Harry, it was an absolute symphony. “Are you alright? Your eyes are puffy. Have you been getting enough sleep?”

“Fuck,” Harry choked on his tears looking up at the white ceiling before back at her, complete disbelief in his blood-shot eyes. “You’re the one lying in a hospital bed, with casts and bandages all over you, scheduled for a third surgery, and you’re asking me if I’m alright?”

If Y/N could, she would’ve shrugged as if that wasn’t the most self-explanatory thing in the world. “I’ll always want to know if you’re alright. ‘S not exclusively you that can care for people, you know.”

And there she was – his sarcastic, allergic-to-kiwi-but-‘Kiwi’-loving girl that never ceased to amaze him, as she made sure everyone else was alright before herself. And that made Harry break down.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. So fucking sorry. I – god – I – there are not enough words in any language to say how fucking sorry I am. I should’ve been here, should’ve never let you leave. This is all my fault.”

Through all that, through his choked back sobs and crying, Y/N’s hand had steadily remained on his cheek, wiping away the tears from underneath one eye before switching to the other side and making the little pearls of hurt disappear with just her touch.

“Harry, are you the weatherman?”

That was not what he thought she would say. “I – what?”

“Do you control temperatures and have not told me?”

“N – no?”

“Were you the guy who ran the red light?”

“No.”

“Then how is this your fault?”

“I – “ he stammered. “I shouldn’t have let you leave. I should’ve gone after you, found a way to make you stay or – or should’ve fucking stopped being so selfish and driven you to see Adam yourself.”

“Harry, had you tried to make me stay nothing would’ve changed.” Y/N sighed letting him lean into her touch, as she bit her lip, thinking over her words. “I was just so pissed, that I think anything you would’ve tried to do, would’ve only made it worse. And I’d rather be here with you than alone in my apartment crying in a tub of Hagen Dazs because of a broken heart.”

“You-you've got your priorities completely backwards.” He wasn’t laughing when he said that, but Y/N was.

“Maybe.” She raised her eyebrow. “But I don’t think so. The bones will heal, but the amount of love I have for you… I’m afraid you’ve ruined the thought of a future without you in it. We’ll talk,” Y/N swallowed hard. “We need to talk, but when I get better. Right now, I just wanna hold your hand and have you hold mine as I try not to kick the nurses trying to take my blood for tests.”

It felt inappropriate for Harry to smile, to feel happy about how Y/N hadn’t told him to go screw himself, even though he felt like he deserved it, but fuck was it impossible not to when his body felt so light, and her love chose to invade the dark corners of his mind to fill it with golden warmth.

She fell asleep not long after their small conversation, body too tired and in need of recovery, but like he’d promised, he was there for her when she awoke again, this time to a more familiar Y/N as she glared at the coffee cup in his hand, while he sipped, a ring clad palm gently pushing away strands of Y/H/C hair from her face.

“I hate that you can drink coffee.”

“Yeah, and why’s that?”

“Because I can’t.”

“I’ll happily buy you as many coffees as you like. Once you get better and are allowed to, of course.”

Y/N snorted and then winced as the action caused pain to shoot through her body. “Knowing you, it won’t be a cup of coffee or a coffee machine, but a fucking coffee chain restaurant.”

“Would it be that bad to own one?”

Her eyebrow rose at him in an incredulous look. “You know I can’t bake. Coffee shops include pastries, and I’m not the one who worked in a bakery. I can cook, I can clean, but make me make muffins from scratch, and I’ll set your house on fire.”

“You already did.” Harry laughed. “Gem and mum helped.”

“They supplied the wine, so I’m putting 60% of the blame on them.”

“You do realise that equates to 30% of the blame on each of them, and most of it is still on you?”

“Shut up,” Y/N smiled, weakly pushing against Harry’s arm, but the motion made him happy to know she was trying. “I was just in a car crash, so forgive me for not being that great at division.”

A knock at the door made Harry look up, Y/N not even attempting to turn her head to see who’d interrupted them, given how the first time she’d tried it with the neck-brace, it’d hurt so bad she’d passed out.

Her doctor was a man in his mid to late fifties with greying hair, Y/N’s medical record file slapped underneath his arm.

“How are we doing today?”

“Better than yesterday, I guess,” she responded.

“Well, you were out for most of it, so I’d say so.”

Y/N and the doctor chuckled, but Harry didn’t, as he thought of how bad, how absolutely tired a person has to be to sleep for a whole day. He’d had those days himself, and that was from being exhausted from work. He couldn't imagine what being in a bloody accident would feel like.

The doctor stepped forward a bit and extended a hand to Harry, introducing himself as Dr Tate, while Harry rose in his seat to accept it, but not wanting to move away an inch from Y/N.

“You must be the boyfriend.”

“I – uh – I can only hope I still am,” he let out a nervous giggle, which made his girlfriend slap his arm, a furrow on her face.

Dr Tate looked Harry over from head to toe, eyebrow raised at that, but all he said was, “We tried to contact you, seeing as you’re Miss Y/L/N emergency contact, but the nurses said it couldn’t go through.”

“He was filming overseas.” Y/N butted in, clearly having rehearsed what to say beforehand. “Flew over as fast as he could. I’m the luckiest person in the world.” Her tone was soft as a feather, but Harry’s stomach felt like it was filled with rocks.

“Is there anything I can help with?” he asked hoping to be given some sort of a task to do, to allow him to redeem himself some way.

“Well, actually yes. One of the injuries Ms Y/L/N sustained was a concussion,” the doctor said, “which could lead to some complications like headaches, migraines, spotty vision or amnesia.”

“Amnesia?” Harry wanted to vomit. It had crossed his mind, but having a professional say it made it all so much worse.

“Yes, and we’d need someone to be with her as much as possible, 24/7 would be desirable, to keep an eye on.”

Harry honestly hadn’t heard anything past the amnesia part, mind spinning in a circle that just screamed ‘she’ll forget all about you’.

“It’s nothing to worry about too much.” Dr Tate was quick on his feet, seeing Harry’s blank stare, and tried to diffuse any possible spiralling. “With Y/N’s cognitive abilities and having repeatedly excelled at the test without a single stutter, it’s very unlikely she’ll have those side effects.

“But it’s still a possibility, right?”

The doctor nodded, giving Harry a kind smile. “Which is why I’m informing you of it. To keep an eye out to see if anything changes so you could come in if necessary. But as I said – Y/N’s memory has proven to be intact so far. And I always say to trust the facts.”

“Harry,” Y/N placed her hand on his. “You know I won’t forget you.”

“I’ll uh, give you two a second.” The doctor exited leaving them alone, an almost sad silence over both of them.

“God I almost lost you to some idiot running a red light with no winter tires, and now you won’t remember me. And – and even with everything you’re going through, you’re still trying to protect me? Why did you lie? I – I wouldn’t have cared if you said the truth that I was an asshole.” Harry dragged both hands over his face, trying to keep the cry’s at bay as Y/N ran her hand through his hair in an attempt to calm him down.

“I’d prefer to think,” Y/N shrugged trying to tease him and make him crack a smile, “me being dead would be the worst-case scenario, not me forgetting you. And of course, I’ll protect you. Your reputation matters to me. Just because we had a fight doesn’t mean I’ll immediately run to everyone I can and say how shitty of a person you were in those specific ten minutes.”

But Harry’s lips didn’t quirk up, the tears didn’t disappear as the painful grimace on his face wasn’t replaced by the crow lines next to his eyes from smiling so much. “What if you – what if you forget you love me? What do I do then? I know I sound selfish and like the biggest fucking dick, but as pathetic as it is – I can’t go on without you. I don’t know how I could.”

Y/N’s heart broke at his words because if the roles were reversed if Harry forgot about her and fell out of love, she didn't know how she'd survive. She’d had those fears before, when he was away filming and she couldn’t follow; she’d been terrified because what they’d had was so new, he could easily move on, find someone better, someone who was familiar with his lifestyle. But any time those thoughts came to her mind, Y/N reminded herself of what she’d do. And that’s what she told Harry.

“Then you make me fall in love with you again. You’re great at that. Make me love you more with every passing moment.”

“And – and if you don’t fall in love with me again?”

Y/N shook her head. “Impossible, Harry. You made me fall in love with you after barely two hours spent together. And well, if you put your mind to it… who knows how much deeper I’ll fall.”

For the first time in two days, Harry leaned down and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. The kiss was soft and sweet, a barely-there touch, but it meant everything. It was a promise to one another to love unconditionally, to remind the other of it at every passing moment; it sealed their future to be spent together, and neither wanted it any other way.

Harry’s phone rang, eliciting a whine from Y/N as he pulled away to answer it. “It’s Florence.” He pecked her lips one more time. “I’ll just tell her to call back.”

He turned to the side for a second muttering a soft ‘hey, can you –‘ before whatever Florence told him made him pull away and extend the deivice towards Y/N.

“It’s for you.”

“For – for me? Florence is calling me?”

Had the two women become friends? Yes. But didn’t mean Y/N had an easier time not fangirling about her.

“Hi, Flo,” she breathed out, looking at Harry with wide, happy eyes. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Harry sat there watching as his love talked to someone she looked up to, and someone he cared about. He hadn’t told Florence, but her encouragement meant the world to him, as she was partially the reason he’d gotten together with Y/N. After all, she’d been the one on his side from the very beginning.

Y/N giggled like a crazy person after the call ended and she handed Harry back his phone. “Florence Pugh just called to give me well wishes.” She gasped looking at Harry. “Do you think Chris Pine will too?”

“God, I love you,” Harry laughed with her, pressing their foreheads together.

They’d be alright, they’d make sure of it. No matter if a disagreement arose, egos needed to be put in check or black ice covered the roads. They’d get through anything.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

A/N: Listen, Linda, those pictures of Harry on set does things!!!

Also the being allergic to kiwi - that’s me. Like legit it’s the only thing I’m allergic to. I always hated how they tasted like pain, like it made my mouth sting and feel like pins and needles before going numb, and according to professionals, that’s a sign of being allergic. But I love ‘Kiwi’ the song.

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry :(

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles angst #harry styles and you #harry styles and reader #harry styles and y/n #harry styles fluff #don't worry darling #one direction #one direction imagine #1d fan fiction #1d

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weareallstoriesintheend · 3 years

Note

A writing request: Protective Clyde rescues reader from a guy being a little too handsy at the bar. Makes sure reader gets home safely. Super fluff/protective Clyde. Maybe ends with a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek. Annnddd I'm already crying thinking about you writing this

Safe & Sound (Reader x Clyde Logan)

Note: For you @ladyinwriting18? Anything! 🥰

Part 1 of the Safe & Sound Series. Here is Part 2 & 3

Warnings: Creepy misogynistic bullshit. But also the fluffiest of fluff!

Words: 2,407

Smutty Part 2 - HERE

The smell of whiskey breath ghosting over your face made your stomach turn. You were just trying to have a quiet drink at the ‘Duck Tape’ after a long day at work and all of a sudden you were having your evening ruined by some overbearing guy with half a bottle of dutch courage behind him. “Seriously, I’m okay thank you” you said politely, trying to catch the eye of anyone who could get this guy off you. You were not one to be polite to guys that harass you usually but something about this guy’s overly aggressive lean towards you had put you on edge. All sorts of images and scenarios were flashing through your mind and your heart was starting to hammer in your chest. But just like always, just like you were taught from the time you can walk, you played it off by smiling sweetly and being as polite as possible. Annoyingly you’d chosen to sit in the back corner of the bar tonight so you had nowhere to go but past him. Your dress was high up on your thigh and you tried, subtly, to pull it down. “Nah, come on sweetheart” he said with a smirk, flicking your long hair off your shoulder dragging his fingers purposely along your skin as he does it “Let me buy you a drink” You went to speak again, hoping to brush him off but the panic in you was rising. The feeling of his skin on yours had triggered something within you, you fidgeted your hands over each other on the bar top to stop them trembling. You looked up at him, mustering up that fake sweet smile again, turning to grab your jacket to leave – figuring this was the only way to get him to leave you alone – before you heard someone else speak.

“I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” you heard the deep drawl before you looked up. Clyde Logan was sidling his way across to where you were sat in the corner, the light of the bar was behind him like an aura. Your lumbering guardian angel. Honestly you’d never paid too much attention to him, he was just… Clyde. He’d been around forever except for when you’d returned from college and found out he was off in Iraq. Clyde was just the big grumpy bartender who made a mean vodka cranberry for you every Friday night; the same grumpy bartender who always slipped in an extra lime because he knew you liked it. You gave him a relieved smile as you caught his eye; he instantly turned his attention back to the guy leaning against you as he piped up once more. “Oh come on Clyde, I was only havin’ a bit of fun” he slurred, giving him a hacking laugh before slipping his hand up your arm and onto your shoulder. You instantly tensed up, skin crawling as you could feel the sweat drip from his forehead on your bare shoulder as he propped himself against you. “Oh I’m sure ya are. But see, I don’t think she finds it very fun do you darlin’?” Clyde said looking at you out the corner of his eye and you shook your head. “Now I’m asking ya to leave cause you’re making my customers uncomfortable. I’m damn sure this woman, nice as she is, doesn’t want your hands all over her now does she?” You shook your head again and the guy looked at you, having the audacity to scoff in offense at your response before turning back to Clyde with a grin. But Clyde kept talking “Her shakin’ her head there? That’s her sayin’ no. Got that? So I’m goin’ to ask you one more time to get off her. Look at her… sweet like a little bird she is, she don’t need your big greasy paws all over her like that” The drunk guy sneered and jostled your shoulders in a jovial way, trying to show Clyde how you were at ease you supposed, and you felt his metal watch strap nick your skin at the back of your neck and you hissed softly at the pain. There was a sudden thud and you looked down; Clyde had grabbed the guy’s free arm that was resting on the bar with his flesh hand. He gave it a sudden tug and the guy gave a high-pitched yelp as he was pulled closer to Clyde and off you. “I said… I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” Clyde repeated. You knew sweet, quiet Clyde could have a temper when he needed one; you’d seen him strong-arm a few guys out on their asses a few times over the years. You’d always quietly admired how sturdy and wide his body looked, comfortable and yet solid. So when he did things like that you’d silently sip your drink, pretending you weren’t watching his bicep bulge under his long-sleeved shirt as he grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck or twist their arm behind their back and haul them out the bar. Another bar patron, an older guy, was walking past this little scene and shot the drunk guy a knowing look before giving his input “Now Billy! Logan here’s got two tours under his belt. Show the guy some respect. Make yourself scarce, come on” Clyde shoo’d this new guy off with a tilt of his head and the guy threw his hands up in surrender before walking away. Billy let out another hacking laugh that made you flinch slightly in your seat, it was full of contempt and far too much confidence for a man in his position “What do you think ya goin’ to do Logan? One arm freak ain’t gunna do nothin’ to me!” “I think you’ll find that I still have my arm, just my forearm and hand that’s missin’. I still got enough to break this arm of yours in three places if you don’t leave this beautiful young lady alone” “Oh I see, Little Logan got a crush” Billy grinned cockily at him, spittle was flying out of his mouth as he slurred and it made you cringe as you saw it landing on Clyde’s dark blue shirt. You started to panic again, you didn’t know what Clyde was going to do next and you shot him a look. You didn’t want him to get himself in trouble for you and after everything that had had happened at the speedway you worried that one little thing would get the cops on

his ass again. He caught your panicked expression and gave you a contemplative pout before turning his head back to Billy. He dragged Billy a little closer so he was bent uncomfortably; you could see his belt cutting deep into his side, pressed into him by the wood of the bar. He was flinching and groaning in Clydes strong grasp, when Clyde spoke he was close to his face and his voice was a low, slow and dangerously calm growl “Now somethin’ tell me this precious, good woman here wants me to spare you the pain I was plannin’ on givin’ ya, kind as she is. So I’m goin’ to let you go but if I ever see you so much as look at her again I’ll show you what two tours in Iraq teaches ya. Got it?” You watched as Billy quickly gathered up his jacket that was hanging haphazardly from the chair he had been sitting on and skitter out the bar like a dog with its tail between its legs. Clyde gave you a pouty but satisfied nod before calmly going back to washing glasses.

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The bar was closing in around an hour so Clyde made you another drink, extra lime as always, to steel your nerves. As he walked around, picking up after people and saying goodnight to the stragglers he kept a close eye on you. Always looking back over his shoulder to where you were sat. You smiled every time he looked at you, several times you thought about getting up to leave for the night but he always caught your eye and something in his look made you sip your drink a little slower. Maybe you should stick around.

“He didn’t hurt you or nothing did he?” Clyde said in a low voice so the last people that were leaving couldn’t hear him. Part of you wondered if he was embarrassed to be helping you but then you realised, as he turned his body to literally shield you from the gaze of the rest of the patrons in the bar, he was protecting your privacy. “No Clyde, I’m fine thank you” you smiled, brushing your dress down awkwardly trying to ease the tension. Clyde was a man of few words usually but he made up for it in the intensity of his stare and right now that stare was focussed purely on you. His eyes roamed over you and it made a heat rise up on the back of your neck. He made a grunting noise, almost to himself, and he leaned over the bar to fetch a napkin. He turned the tap on that was over the small bar sink and dipped the napkin under the running water. You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow in question and he nodded to you shoulder. You looked down and noticed a small trail of dried blood running down your shoulder from where the guy had cut you with his watch. “Can I touch ya? Is that okay?” he asked, eyes soft and concerned as he studied you. You nodded shyly and he leant forward and wiped the napkin over your skin gently. You watched his hand carefully, the huge size of it compared to your arm making you bite back a giggle. The cold of his horseshoe ring brushing lightly against your skin made you break into goosebumps. He dabbed and patted to make sure he got it all wiped away “There ya go, all cleaned up” He gave your arm a stroke with his thick knuckles, like he was doubly making sure you were all squared away. Clyde Logan didn’t smile very much, you always thought his signature grumpy pout was actually quite endearing, but in this moment as you gazed up at him he gave you the smallest, most tender smile and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. “You don’t have to take care of me you know?” you whispered, he shook his head as he hopped up on the bar and swung himself back over. “Well of course I do, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to deal with assholes like that!” You gave him a small push to his chest that barely moved him “You stop that!” you laughed, he chuckled as you dipped your head down, letting your hair hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “I only speak the truth darlin’” he said turning to wander over to the cash register “Give me 2 minutes to check todays takins’ and I’ll drive ya home” You scoffed and dropped off your high bar stool onto your feet “You really don’t need to do that, I’m sure that guy is long gone” “Well I can’t just let ya go home on your on now can I? What kind of gentleman would I be if I did that?” he said, you swear you saw him smirk to himself and he pushed his hip into the cash register to close it. He turned to you, swinging his jacket off the hook on the wall and around his shoulders. “Oh Clyde, you’re sweet but I’ll be okay” You stepped forward as you spoke and helped him pull his jacket over his prosthetic arm “Really! I don’t live too far, you know that! It’s only a mile round the corner I can walk it” You flushed at his forwardness and unexpected level of care he was showing you. The heat was rising up on the fact of your neck again and you couldn’t quite decide if it was embarrassment or something a little more intimate. “Nonsense, I won’t hear another word on the matter” he shot you another smile; you quite liked this more relaxed Clyde. There was something about that shy smile that made you accept his offer with a small nod. “Perfect. Let me grab my keys and I’ll drive ya”

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You hopped down out of his truck as he opened the passenger door for you, which he had insisted on doing; he’d even held out his prosthetic arm for you to use to steady yourself as you dropped unsteadily onto your driveway. You’d thanked him quietly and he’d responded “Nothing but the best for the princess” making you giggle and elbow his side jokingly. You both wandered down the driveway in comfortable silence, nothing but crickets and the crunch of gravel beneath both your shoes.

“Safe and sound now aren’t ya” he said, tapping your front door absentmindedly with his knuckle, watching you wrestle your keys out of your bag. You chuckled and nodded, before you could give yourself a second to overthink it you pitched up on your tip toes, pulling him down slightly with your a small hand on his wide shoulder, and placed a timid kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Clyde” you whispered. You giggled slightly as a noticeable pink blush bloomed across his cheeks and he shook his head and stuttered “N-no thanks necessary sweetheart”

You put your key in the lock and he turned to leave with a courteous nod goodnight. As you pushed open the door breathing out a tightly held in sigh, suddenly thankful to be in the comfort of your own home, you heard him say your name. You spun to see him a few feet away from you, rocking on his heels slightly “Come by the bar tomorrow night? I’ll make you another one of those cranberry drinks you like and…I’d errr… I’d love to see ya”

Now it was your turn to blush, you hoped he couldn’t see it in the shadow of your doorway

“I’d love too. See you then” you replied, giving him a small wave before going inside.

Maybe you should have paid more attention to the big grumpy bear behind the bar because it turns out, he’s rather sweet.

#clyde logan #logan lucky #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #request

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beifongsss · 4 years

Text

the painter [zuko]

Pairing: (Fire Lord) Zuko x reader

Summary: A request from @queenofmankind: “ Hi there! I’d like to request a Zuko x reader please. The royal painter suddenly falls sick a day before he’s supposed to paint a portrait of Zuko to put in the Firelords gallery so he sends his prodigy instead which is the reader. She’s the first person ever that successfully makes Zuko embrace his scar instead of being insecure about it and she makes Zuko laugh hard (several times if may) and he’s just overall so taken by her + bonus scene of Uncle Iroh encouraging Zuko to ask her out Thank u “

.masterlist.

please please ignore some of the flaws in this fic. i know that a detailed portrait cannot be done in a day, especially not with limited lighting. i’m sorry :(

You grumbled in annoyance as you walked up the steps to the royal palace. Torran, your mentor and the royal painter, had fallen ill the night before and had sent you to the palace in his place. You had no idea what you were going to be painting seeing as he had been too sick to give you any details other than to show up early and to bring your best paints and materials.

“You much be (Y/N),” a voice greeted you, causing you to look up. You met the eyes of the famed General Iroh and bowed immediately.

“General Iroh, it is an honor to be in your presence,” you said, still bowing. You heard him chuckle.

“Please, no need for that,” he spoke, motioning for you to follow him into the palace. “Just Iroh is fine. I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Actually, no,” you replied, following Iroh closely. “Unfortunately, Torran is quite sick and didn’t give me any details.”

“That’s a shame. I sure hope he gets better soon,” Iroh frowned before leading you into a small hall, a table standing off to the side. “Since you’re early, would you like some tea while we wait?”

You nodded silently, taking a seat and watching Iroh as he prepared the tea. Everyone knew about the Jasmine Dragon and how the once-general had a talent for making the best tea in the nation. You smiled gratefully as he handed you a cup, breathing in the steam before your brows furrowed. “What exactly are we waiting for?”

“Oh, right!” Iroh said, taking a seat across from you. “We’re waiting for-”

“Uncle!” another voice interrupted Iroh. “Is Torran here yet?”

Your eyes widened as they met a pair of piercing gold ones. Standing in front of you was the young Fire Lord. He was wearing an impressive set of robes, his hair tied up with the traditional hair piece, showcasing his handsome face. You stood up immediately, placing your cup on the table before facing the young Fire Lord and bowing deeply.

“Who’s this?” Zuko asked, his eyes still on your figure. “Please stop bowing.”

You stood up straight, making eye contact with Iroh, who motioned for you to take your seat once more. You sat in silence, reaching for your cup as Iroh addressed the Fire Lord.

“This is (Y/N). She is Master Torran’s trusted apprentice, a true prodigy,” Iroh stated, causing you to blush at his words.

“Uh yes, okay,” Zuko said, now shifting his gaze to his uncle. “But why is she here instead of Torran?”

“I’m afraid Torran is out sick, Zuko,” Iroh said before motioning to you. “She will be painting your portrait in his place.”

Your eyes widened at his words and you found yourself choking on your tea before pounding on your chest to try and clear your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m here to do what?”

Both Iroh and Zuko stared at you in concern. You coughed a few more times before staring back.

“I’m here to paint the Fire Lord’s portrait?” you squawked, pointing at yourself. Your eyes were wide and full of nervousness and despite the situation, Zuko couldn’t help but chuckle. “N-No that’s not possible. Can’t you just wait for Torran to get better?”

“Do not doubt yourself (Y/N),” Iroh said, handing Zuko a cup of tea. He stood up, taking a hold of Zuko’s shoulders and guiding him to take his seat. “We have seen your works and they are most impressive. You will do a fine job. Now, if you'll excuse me, I will leave you two to discuss the details. I’m afraid I must get to a meeting.”

You bowed your head respectfully, receiving a warm smile from Iroh before he retreated. The silence that followed was awkward, the two of you shooting glances at each other and looking away hurriedly when you made eye contact before taking a sip of tea.

“Fire Lord Zuko,” you broke the silence, fidgeting in your seat as you forced yourself to look up at the golden-eyed boy. “For the portra-”

“Call me Zuko,” the Fire Lord blurted, looking away from you. He took a sip of tea before looking at you shyly. “There’s no need to address me as ‘Fire Lord’. The formalities aren’t necessary.”

“Alright then,” you said, surprised. “Zuko, about the portrait, do you have an idea of what you want it to be like?”

Zuko stared blankly at you, blinking languidly before answering. “No. What do you mean?”

You shrugged as you reached down to grab some paper and ink. “I mean, do you want the same pose as the Fire Lords before you? Tall and menacing with a ‘look at me the wrong way and I’ll smite you where you stand’ expression?”

Zuko tried to hold back a laugh at your words, only to end up snorting in the process. He looked up at you, embarrassment on his face only to see you smiling at him. Quickly composing himself, he contemplated your question, unable to wipe a smile off his face. “Um, yes. Wait, no. I-I don’t know.”

You quirked an eyebrow, giving him an amused glance. “You don’t know?”

Zuko shook his head. “I don’t want to come off as threatening. I don’t want this portrait to be like the others, I want it to be different, more welcoming.”

You nodded at his words, looking around in the hall you were in. “Is this where we’re doing the portrait?”

Zuko nodded, looking around as well.

“May I suggest doing it somewhere a little brighter?” you asked, noticing how the hall was dimly lit. “A brighter background might help make the portrait seem a little less intimidating.”

Thinking over your words, Zuko found himself agreeing before standing up. “Follow me.”

You scrambled to get your things before following the Fire Lord. He led you through many different hallways and you found yourself getting lost with the many turns you had made. Eventually you found yourself standing outside, a gasp escaping your lips as you took in the sight before you.

You were standing in the Royal Palace Gardens. Your eyes landed on the lake in the middle, the trees around it providing shade as the turtle ducks swam around happily. There was an impressive fountain on the other side, and you marveled at it briefly before turning your attention back to the turtle ducks. You heard Zuko clear his throat and glanced up quickly to meet his eyes. His face held an amused smile as he looked at you, causing you to quickly look away and walk towards the lake.

“If I knew that being royalty means you get to have turtle ducks in your home, I would’ve chosen a different path in life,” you said, now looking around the garden to try and find a good place for Zuko to stand. You blushed as you heard Zuko let out a soft laugh.

“They’re the best part about all this,” he said softly. “When I was younger I used to come out and feed them with my mom.”

You looked over your shoulder, about to make a witty remark before noticing the Fire Lord’s contemplative look. You pursed your lips before taking a few steps back, your eyes never leaving Zuko’s form.

“If you want,” you began, still observing the golden-eyed boy as you crossed your arms. “We can do the portrait with you standing in front of the lake.”

Zuko hesitated for a second, looking down at the turtle ducks before making eye contact with you. He didn’t say anything, instead choosing to smile softly and nod.

Silently, made sure that you had everything before you began to set up. You were fighting with your easel, muttering under your breath as it seemed to be winning, before you felt a warm pair of hands come in contact with yours.

“Here, let me help you with that,” Zuko mumbled, setting up your easel with ease as you tried to hold back a blush. He shot you a smug look as he stepped back. “You’re welcome.”

Huffing lightly, you picked up your paints and brushes before muttering under your breath. “Thank you oh great Fire Lord why don’t you just do the whole painting while you’re at it.”

Zuko let out a loud bark of laughter at your words before composing himself, turning away from you to conceal his smile. You flushed as you realized that he had heard your words, only getting redder as he spoke once more. “A simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed.”

Too embarrassed to speak, you busied yourself by preparing your paints. You propped up a blank canvas, shifting the easel around as you tried to find the perfect angle. Once you were satisfied with the easel’s position, you made your way over to Zuko. You looked up at him, rubbing your chin thoughtfully as you noticed the way the light hit his face.

Zuko didn’t meet your eyes, trying to stop the blush from creeping onto his cheeks as you reached out gently. You grabbed his shoulders, tilting him slightly until you were content with his position. Looking at him once more, you smiled widely, nodding your head in satisfaction before walking back to your easel. This time Zuko couldn’t stop the blush from appearing on his face.

It was silent in the garden as you began working. You began with the outline, only looking up to take in the general details of the garden. Zuko remembered how he had initially been apprehensive of allowing you to paint his portrait, especially because you couldn’t be any older than he was. However, after going through your works with his uncle he had realized that you were indeed talented, no matter your age.

It also didn’t hurt that you were witty. Or that you were easy on the eyes.

Zuko blushed at his thoughts, shaking his head slightly before letting his eyes rest on your form. He took in the way the light was hitting your (H/C) hair before observing the way you moved your brush fluidly, no hesitation visibly in your actions. He took notice of your relaxed stance as you painted, your confidence shining through but not in a cocky way. He finally let his eyes drift to your face, which was scrunched up in mild concentration as you tried to get the shape of the trees just right. Zuko’s eyes widened as your eyes snapped to his, quirking an eyebrow before turning back to the painting in front of you.

The Fire Lord closed his eyes briefly, trying to figure out how to break the silence. He licked his lips nervously before opening his mouth, only to cut off by you.

“So, if I may ask,” you began, eyes never leaving the painting in front of you. “Why is getting this portrait done so urgent? You’re really risking the quality of this painting by not choosing to wait for Torran to get better. But hey, at least this isn’t the final version.”

Zuko breathed out a laugh at your words before answering. “I will be leaving in two days time. I am needed elsewhere.”

You glanced up at him, nodding at his vague answer. “Ah yes. Elsewhere.”

“I am going to Ba Sing Se,” Zuko admitted. “Aang is waiting for me there. Together we will try to build up diplomatic relations with the Earth Kingdom and repair the damages done by my sister when she infiltrated the city.”

“Field trip with the Avatar,” you mused. The outline of the portrait was now done and you bent down to pick up more paint before straightening. “Sounds...fun.”

“Anything involving Aang is fun,” Zuko stated flatly, remembering all the mishaps he had had with the young airbender. “Not necessarily safe, but fun.”

You hummed in response, not replying for a minute as you began to add details to the portrait. “I see. So you want the final portrait done by the time you get back I’m assuming?”

Zuko nodded before realizing you weren’t looking at him. “Uh, yes.”

More time passed, with Zuko staying silent as he tried his best to not distract you. After a few more minutes, you were done with the background and the only thing left was to paint in the Fire Lord’s features. “Alright, I’m gonna need you to stand real still for me, okay? I can’t have you moving because then the light won’t be hitting you the way I want it to and it’ll be a mess.”

The golden-eyed boy didn’t reply, instead swallowing harshly as he realized that you were about to start painting him. He was now starting to realize that the position you had placed him in meant that his left side was facing the light, his scar fully visible especially since his hair was tied up.

Keeping his eyes on you, the Fire Lord began to shuffle slowly. He turned until he felt that his scar wasn’t fully on display, making sure to not draw your attention. Sighing softly, he stood still once again, glad that his little plan had worked.

At least, he thought it had until you glanced up, only for your gaze to harder when you noticed something was off. You bit your lip as you looked at the outline on your canvas before looking at Zuko before tucking your brush behind your ear and marching over to him.

“I told you not to move,” you stated gruffly, grabbing his shoulders and moving him back to how he originally was. Nodding once, you turned and walked back to the easel, only to turn around and groan out loud when you realized Zuko had once again turned slightly. Despite the annoyed look on your face, Zuko couldn’t hold back a small smile.

“Zuko,” you said in exasperation, rubbing the bridge of your nose before repositioning him again. “What is the issue here? I need you to stay in this position so that I can capture your face perfectly.”

You stared at him expectantly, your gaze unnerving. He fidgeted slightly before releasing a quick breath. “It’s just, it’s...”

He trailed off, quietly muttering the rest of his words. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, looking at him. “What?”

“It’s my scar!” Zuko said bitterly, looking down. “The issue here is that my scar is visible.”

You scoffed louder than you meant to, causing his gaze to snap to you. “That’s the issue? Zuko, first of all, that scar is a part of you. It’s not going anywhere anytime soon okay? Second of all, yeah you might get insecure, but everyone has scars that they have to deal with; both physical and emotional. You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. Third, your father gave you that scar and as horrible as that is, it helped you become a benevolent leader, which is something that this nation has needed for a long, long time. Lastly, that scar doesn’t make you any less handsome than you would’ve been without it.”

Zuko’s eyes widened at your little speech before a blush overcame his features at your last sentence.

“Now please, for the sake of the spirits, stand still,” you breathed out, planting him firmly in the place he originally was before heading back to your painting.

The rest of the painting session passed in silence, Zuko’s eyes never leaving yours as he kept replaying your words in his head. You felt his gaze, of course, and it took everything in you to not drop your brush whenever you looked up at him. More than a few times, you found a blush staining your cheeks and you found yourself hoping that Zuko didn’t notice it.

Zuko noticed.

~ When you were done with the portrait, you sighed deeply. You quickly wiped your face, unknowingly getting paint on your cheek.

“Well,” you chirped, motioning for Zuko to walk over to you. “I’m finished.”

Zuko approached you slowly, a little hesitant to see how it had turned out. When he finally saw the painting, he felt his eyes widen as he inhaled sharply. Your smile dropped at his reaction, a sad frown appearing on your face.

“You don’t like it,” you stated sadly, wringing your hands before smiling weakly. “T-That’s fine. I told you that you should’ve waited for Torran.”

You managed to tear your eyes away from the Fire Lord and began packing up your things, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. You didn’t get far before Zuko reached out, grasping your hand in his as he felt guilt creeping up on him. He had noticed your sad expression and all he wanted to do was smack himself for causing it.

“N-No, I...” Zuko glanced at the painting before looking into your eyes. “I love it.”

Silence engulfed the two of you for a few seconds as you got lost in his golden eyes.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. “Because if you’re lying to make me feel better, you don’t have to do that.”

Zuko shook his head before speaking, finally breaking eye contact as he shyly looked down. “No, I’m telling you the truth. I’m just surprised because for once, I don’t hate how I look with my scar.”

You smiled at his words, squeezing his hand softly. “I’m glad you feel that way Fire Lord Zuko.”

He smiled back, rolling his eyes at his title before gazing into your eyes once more. His other hand came up to cup your cheek, a bright blush coating your face as his hand ghosted over your skin. The two of you found yourselves leaning in slightly, eyes never straying.

“You have a bit of paint right...here,” Zuko mumbled, his thumb gently swiping across the apple of your cheek. You didn’t respond, you didn’t think you could. Instead you brought up your other hand as well, carefully wrapping it around his.

Zuko had just convinced himself to steal a kiss from you when a voice interrupted the two of you.

“Ah the portrait is finished. I must say you did an exceptional job (Y/N),” Iroh spoke, stepping into view.

“U-Uncle,” Zuko stuttered, stepping away from you as though a fire had been lit under him. “How long have you been out here?”

Iroh shot the two of you a knowing glance before turning back to the portrait. “I just got out of my meeting and I wanted to see how the painting was coming along. I must say, I am very glad you didn’t stick with the more traditional style. This is a lot more you, Zuko.”

“It was (Y/N)’s idea,” Zuko stated simply, shooting you a smile.

You laughed lightly before proceeding to pick up all your supplies, shooting a thankful look to Iroh as he helped you. You carefully picked up the canvas, balancing it in one hand in order to be able to pick up the easel only to find Zuko holding it already.

Iroh and Zuko walked you back to the front of the palace, where your ride was waiting for you.

“Well,” you began, smiling at the two men. “I’ll make sure to have the finished portrait by the time you return Zuko. Thank you for being such a great model. I hope you have safe travels and I hope you have a great week Iroh.”

Iroh wished you a safe trip before nudging Zuko, who then did the same. Once you were out of sight, Iroh reached up and hit Zuko’s head.

“Ow! What was that for?” the Fire Lord asked, rubbing the spot his uncle had hit.

“She is very talented isn’t she Zuko?” Iroh simply said in response, shooting his nephew a sly look. “And very beautiful.”

Zuko didn’t say anything, but his blush said enough for Iroh.

“You should try to woo her when you return from Ba Sing Se,” the once-general commented, turning around and heading back into the palace.

“What do you think I was trying to do in the garden, uncle?” the Fire Lord replied, throwing his hands up exasperatedly as he followed Iroh back into the palace.

And woo you he did. A week later, you delivered the finished portrait to the palace and instead of leaving, you found yourself sitting next to Zuko in the garden, lounging under a tree as you fed the turtle ducks together.

okay the ending felt a bit weird but other than that i’m really proud of this fic and i hope y’all enjoy it and i’m posting this instead of a sokka one bc i’m excited about it but keep an eye out for a sokka fic soon!

#zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #zuko #prince zuko #avatar #avatar: tla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar x reader #atla #atla zuko x reader #atla zuko #aang #katara #sokka #toph

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cheesyficwriter · 3 years

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idk if you have, but i would love to read prompt #1 from list 5 <33 thankssss ily

Hey there anon! Thanks for the lovely first kiss request 💜 hope you enjoy this take!

Prompt #1 - “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

Making It Count

Kissing someone for the first time is always exciting and nerve-wracking. It’s an intimate act that you should only share with someone else once you are absolutely ready.

15-year old Hermione Granger touched her lips instinctively. She had yet to experience a true kiss like the ones she read in books or seen in movies. Of course, she was a realistic person and was vastly aware that life wasn't as perfect as those depictions often perceived. Real life kisses were probably awkward, especially for first-timers, and especially if it was with the wrong person.

There was Viktor Krum last year. He had pecked her once lightly on the lips just after the Yule Ball. It was hardly a kiss, not in the way that truly counted anyway. She refused to let that particular encounter be deemed as her first, real kiss.

If you're unsure what to do, the best advice is to set up the scene. Pick a time and a private location. Ideally, you will probably want to be alone with the person you want to kiss.

It was a Tuesday night. Nothing particularly special about the date or time, but it was the location that peaked her interest. She was on prefect rounds, often ducking her head into secluded classrooms to check for students out past curfew. The corridors were quiet and bare.

Make sure that the other person you're with feels comfortable with being alone with you.

She walked side by side with Ron Weasley, her best friend of many years. They were alone together quite often this year after being chosen as prefects for Gryffindor. At first it was slightly odd, being alone so much with Ron. Before, they were hardly together at a time when Harry wasn't. They were a trio. A pack that moved together. Always.

As her arm brushed naturally against Ron's arm, both clad in black robes, she felt the spark that trickled through her body. A sensation she experienced on a regular basis nowadays. They were together for rounds several days a week. When they began their duties at the start of term, they practically walked as far away as they could from one another, each claiming a wall on opposite sides of the corridor. With each passing day, that distance disappeared. She hoped she wasn't imagining it all.

Flirt with them to set the mood. Make sure you're smiling, leaning in, and keeping your body facing the other person to show your interest.

"So...tell me about how the Chudley Cannons are doing this year."

Ron almost stopped mid-stride to gawk at her. He tilted his head sideways and peered down at her curiously. "Since when are you interested in Quidditch?"

Hermione jerked her head upwards slightly, but kept her eyes focused on his azure ones sparkling back at her.

"I've always been interested in Quidditch, Ron."

Ron made a sound that was a half-snort and half-chuckle. "Yeah, sure…" He kept walking briskly and Hermione's short legs were struggling to keep up. Merlin, he moved fast.

She was just about to ask another question when he must have decided to answer her after all.

"Well, they're still living by their team motto, I suppose. Let's all just cross our fingers and hope for the best." He grinned and laughed to himself, "If Gudgeon could get his head out of his arse and actually catch the damn snitch for once, maybe they'd win a match…"

Hermione hadn't the slightest clue who Gudgeon was, but she did her best to politely nod along and show that she was listening intently.

It wasn't until Ron had paused again, in the middle of the corridor, that she realized she may have been trying to listen a little too well. Ron was now looking at her like she had grown two heads.

A slow grin curved onto his face. "What is up with you tonight?"

Hermione tried desperately to hide the flush of pink that crept up onto her cheeks.

If they're looking back into your eyes, smiling and laughing, it is likely that they are also interested.

He was still grinning at her brilliantly, his eyes lit up in amusement. All signs suggested that he was in a flirtatious mood, given the way his feet were now pointed directly at her and how he was standing so close to her that she could reach out and touch the freckles on his cheek.

Behind Ron's mass of flaming hair she spotted an empty classroom. Biting her lip, she grabbed his hand and guided him into the classroom before she lost all of her courage.

She turned swiftly back around to face him, squealing when her face almost collided straight into Ron's chest. Apparently he was following behind her much closer than she had anticipated. His hands gripped her shoulders to keep her from falling over.

Lightly touch them on their arm and hold their gaze.

Hermione latched onto Ron's arm to steady herself. "So you were saying, about the Seeker…"

A line appeared between Ron’s brows. "Are we still talking about this?"

"Only if you want to…" She was positive that her cheeks had reddened to a similar shade as his hair.

He gave her a once-over; his eyes fell down to the hand she still had positioned firmly on his arm. When he glanced back up at her, she noticed that his ears had turned pink and his pupils were dilated. He appeared to inhale sharply as his lips parted.

"Well," Hermione gulped, suddenly aware of the growing perspiration on her palms, "what do you want to talk about?"

“I...don’t know if I want to talk anymore.”

His confession elicited the tiniest of sounds from the back of her throat. He was studying her reaction closely, holding her gaze with determined eyes, leaving her so dazed that she forgot what she was even going to suggest next.

“Me either," she finally admitted in a breathy whisper.

Hermione braced herself from the inevitable. This is the part where everything becomes awkward and confusing. This is the part where Ron will step back, flush, and exit the room as quickly as possible. They would pretend that the moment never happened.

Except...

“Can I…" His voice was scratchy, and he had tilted his head, a clear question in his eyes.

It was then that Hermione became certain that he didn't want to step back. And neither did she.

His gaze flickered from her eyes and down to her lips. She parted them instinctively, her labored breath now giving away her anticipation. Did she put on lip balm this morning? She couldn't remember, and only hoped that her lips weren't chapped from the dryness.

“...kiss you?” She finished the thought for him, and his eyes flashed with a different emotion. Perhaps it was desire?

Hermione didn't have time to dwell, for Ron was already leaning forward, eyes closed. She remembered one more piece of advice.

Make sure to tilt your head in the opposite direction to avoid bumping noses.

She did as instructed, letting her lashes flutter closed, inhaling Ron's faint scent of peppermint and chocolate as he drew closer. It made her wonder what kind of pudding he had for dessert in the Great Hall that day…

His lips brushed hers so lightly that they felt almost like a feather tickling one of the softest parts of her face. It was brief, quick, no more than a peck. Hermione let out a surprise gurgle as he pushed back unexpectedly, breathing heavily.

"Wh-what?" She opened her eyes, crinkling her eyebrows.

"Just...just give me a minute…" Ron placed his hands on his hips and jerked out of her embrace, deciding instead to pace the length of the room.

Hermione watched him, wide-eyed, blindly confused as to what just happened. Her happiness faltered. Could he be regretting the kiss? It was barely a kiss anyway, and she was definitely not going to let that one be the one that counts as her first experience.

"Ron…" She called out softly, biting her bottom lip. "Do you - do you even want to kiss me? It's okay if you don't-"

"Bloody hell." He marched back over to her and stood directly in front of her, feet yet again facing forward. "You're driving me absolutely mental, you know that? One minute you're talking Quidditch stats, and another minute you're dragging me in here, doing everything imaginable to distract me and…"

His breath hitched in his throat and he was now looking at her like a puzzle he was trying to so desperately solve. In fact, she recognized the look on his face. It was one that she often saw him wearing in the common room, out by the lake, walking the corridors during prefect rounds...and every time he was looking at her. Every. Single. Time.

"Yes. Yes I do," he definitively answered. His knuckles were white as he clenched them tightly to his sides. He stood up so straight that he seemed even taller than she had ever noticed before.

Hermione wasn't nervous anymore. She held out her hands for him to grab and then tugged him forward, resuming their earlier closeness. "Then let's try again, shall we? I think we can do better than that first one."

She initiated this time, standing up on the balls of her feet to reach his face. She intertwined her hands around his neck to tilt his head downward, his hair falling into his eyes. Her heart beat faster and faster as she puckered her lips up towards Ron’s. With a final inhale, their lips meshed together once again, this time lingering long enough to feel each other’s warmth and taste of their skin. His lips were soft, so soft. Tentatively, Hermione parted her lips and allowed herself to sigh deeply into his mouth, taking an unconscious step forward so that there was no physical space left between their bodies. She barely registered Ron’s hand as it trailed up her shoulder, gently pushing her hair back over her shoulders, before entangling his fingers into her hair.

It was...exactly how she imagined her first kiss, yet it wasn’t. It was more. It was Ron.

When they finally pulled back a second time, their lips just mere centimeters apart, Ron quietly asked, “Have you-have you ever kissed someone before?”

Hermione didn’t hesitate to answer. “Not in any way that counted...until now.”

Follow up with the person you kissed the next day. Show them that you are interested if you want more.

Hermione wasn’t quite sure what to expect the next morning, as she hovered by the portrait hole, chewing nervously on her nails as she waited for Ron to emerge from his dormitory.

She was so lost in thought, drifting in and out of awareness, that she entirely missed his arrival.

It wasn’t until she felt the warmth of Ron’s hand as he intertwined his fingers with her own that she was transported back to reality.

Judging by the shy smile on Ron’s face, reality was looking pretty good.

#romione #romione fanfic #romione drabble #writing prompt #ask response #ron x hermione #cheesyficwriter

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bitchesofostwick · 4 years

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Inquisitor as a Companion: Ellinor Trevelyan

(template via dextronoms)

Inquisitor’s name: Ellinor Trevelyan

Alternate name: She offers only her surname Trevelyan upon meeting her. With the Inquisition perk Nobility Knowledge, the Inquisitor can unlock the dialogue, “Trevelyan...as in the noble house Trevelyan of Ostwick?” She will immediately dismiss this comment but neither confirm not deny it. Later, upon achieving “warm” approval level, she will acknowledge that she is the daughter of Bann Jaime Trevelyan but no longer associates with her family. Only if the Inquisitor achieves “friendly” approval will she reveal and allow them to call her by her first name, Ellinor.

Race, class, and specialization: human, dual-wield rogue, assassin

Varric’s nickname for them: swift (for how she’s quick with a knife)

Default tarot card: Knight of Wands, symbolizing energy, passion, inspired action, adventure, and impulsiveness

How they are recruited: Ellinor is found in the Storm Coast along the water. Upon approaching the area, the game enters a cutscene in which a woman dressed in an elegant but otherwise muddied and soaking wet traveling dress interrogates two rogue templars on the whereabouts of an unnamed apostate. She describes a young man with tan skin, dark straight hair, high cheekbones, and brown almond-shaped eyes all while the camera pans around her so the player can see the features she describes are also features she embodies. One of the templars makes a snide remark: “Can’t say I’ve seen ‘im, but I don’t mind what I’m looking at right now.” Ellinor promptly pulls two long daggers from behind her back, making quick work of ducking, dodging, and slashing at the two large, slow templars. As she wipes the blood from her face, she notices the Inquisitor and their party approach and sarcastically thanks them for their “timely assistance.” The Inquisitor can then ask her about the apostate she’s looking for, and she reveals that she’s been searching for her twin brother, Avery, a mage formerly of a Circle in the Free Marches. She explains that her travels have led her to Ferelden, and she has reason to believe he’s nearby. The Inquisitor can then select one of two dialogue options. Choosing The Inquisition may have the resources you need to find him, if you’re willing to help our cause in return. will recruit Ellinor. Choosing I see. Best of luck. will not recruit Ellinor.

Where they are in Skyhold: Ellinor can be found standing along the wall in the main hall of Skyhold. Before Skyhold has the necessary renovations, she will either sharpen her knives or read through a journal until spoken to by the Inquisitor. Upon renovating the main hall, she will lean against the wall, eavesdropping on the nobility that stand near the dais. If interacted with, she opens the discussion by saying, “Nobles leak a lot of secrets, if you can stand listening to them babble for long enough.”

Things they generally approve of: Generally any pro-mage actions. Ellinor is also in favor of swift and often knee-jerk acts of justice. A harsh critic herself, she will have respect for an Inquisitor who makes confident, borderline unforgiving choices. Of the main quest judgements, Ellinor will greatly approve of executing either Gereon Alexius or Knight-Captain Denam. Although of noble background herself, she will approve of most dialogue options that are humiliating or negative toward nobility; for example, she greatly approves of sentencing Florianne to farm work and even slightly approves of sentencing her to be the Inquisition’s court jester. She will also approve of a rogue inquisitor selecting the Assassin or Tempest specializations.

Things they generally disapprove of: Any pro-templar actions. As such, she also disapproves if a warrior Inquisitor chooses the Templar specialization. She will disapprove if Alexius is made to work with the mages or with the Inquisition (upon being spoken to after the judgement, she will frustratedly say that Fiona’s mages and/or the Inquisition’s mages deserve better than a Venatori magister), and she greatly disapproves if Knight-Captain Denam is conscripted to the Inquisition. Generally, she will have little respect for an Inquisitor she finds naive or too forgiving.

Mages, templars, other? Due to her personal experience with mages and templars--her twin brother being taken to the Circle by her elder sister, a templar, she is staunchly pro-mage. She has no patience for templars, and shortly after recruitment, the player will experience a cutscene in which she and Cullen are caught in a heated argument in Haven (this cutscene is skipped if she is recruited after reaching Skyhold). Her opinions on the Circles and Templars are less severe if the Inquisitor has a positive relation with Vivienne and Cullen, respectively. If her personal quest is completed with Avery safe, she will have a positive stance toward a reformed Circle governed by mages.

Friends in the Inquisition: She is good friends with Dorian, Sera, and Leliana. She is cordial with Josephine as well as Vivienne, although she is more warm toward Vivienne if the Inquisitor has a friendly relationship with Vivienne and if Ellinor’s personal quest is completed with Avery safe. She dislikes Cassandra. She despises Cullen upon her being recruited, although after the player completes Cullen’s Perseverance quest (choosing not to make him take lyrium), she will be softer toward him.

Romanceable?: Ellinor can be romanced by Inquisitors of any race and any gender. Flirt dialogue options are present in dialogue shortly after recruiting her, although she will be put off if these options are selected before the Inquisitor has gained enough approval with her. When a “warm” approval level is reached, she will be visibly flustered (but flattered) at any flirtatious dialogue, and although she will still dismiss or not reciprocate flirting, the player will get slight approval for the first successful flirt option. When a “friendly” approval level is reached, Ellinor will be openly receptive to flirtatious dialogue, but she will not strongly reciprocate before her personal quest is complete, saying, conflicted, “I came to Ferelden to look for my brother, and that’s still what I’m here to do. If things were different…” Upon speaking with her after completing her personal quest (with Avery safe), she will thank the Inquisitor for their help, saying she never would have dreamed of receiving such support in her journey to find him and will thank them tearfully. The Inquisitor can choose the relationship dialogue Of course. I love you. and although she freezes first, as though in shock, she will then kiss the Inquisitor softly. The kiss deepens, and the scene fades to black. The next time the Inquisitor speaks to her, she will reciprocate warmly if romantic dialogue is chosen.

If Ellinor is not romanced, she will not explicitly be paired with any other character; however, she will speak more softly of Cullen (post-Perseverance, if he is not made to take lyrium again). If the Inquisitor selects the dialogue I thought you hated Cullen. she will swiftly brush them off, clearly flustered and red-faced. No other romantic implications are made.

Small side mission: “Stealing Plans.” Ellinor learns that her elder sister, Knight-Captain Bryony Trevelyan of the Red Templars, is in the Western Approach. She believes Bryony’s personal journals and letters, kept in various Red Templar camps, will contain the information she needs to narrow down Avery’s possible location. The Inquisition engages in a fetch-style quest in which they must retrieve journals from three separate Red Templar camps. At the final camp, the Inquisitor will encounter minor boss enemy Knight-Captain Bryony and has no choice but to defeat her.

If Ellinor is in the party, when Bryony’s health is depleted, it will cut to a brief scene in which Ellinor deals the killing blow. Upon speaking to her, after, she will not wish to discuss her sister at all (or for that matter, ever again).

If Ellinor is not in the party, upon returning the journals to her, she thanks the Inquisitor and asks if they encountered her sister. The Inquisitor can lie (No, I didn’t see her.), to which Ellinor comments with determination that “she’s still out there, then.” The Inquisitor can consequently tell the truth (Yes. She’s no longer a problem.), but Ellinor will reply irritably that she wishes she’d been the one to do it.

Regardless, the Inquisitor will gain approval when the quest is complete.

Companion quest: “Quite a Pair.” Ellinor has determined that Avery has been on the run in Ferelden, as she suspected, but is now captive in a Red Templar stronghold in the Bannorn (at a unique standalone map location). The Inquisitor, Ellinor, and the rest of the chosen party travel to the stronghold and battle through groups of Red Templars until they reach an upper tower to find Avery Trevelyan battling a Knight-Captain. In a cutscene, the fighting pauses, as whoever the Inquisitor aligns themself with with have the undeniable advantage. The Knight-Captain offers the Inquisitor invaluable information, promising to betray their broken Order and reveal intelligence on the Red Templars’ movements, locations, and even Corypheus’s plans in exchange for letting him finish off Avery. Ellinor will passionately and emotionally advocate for Avery instead, telling the Inquisitor that the Knight-Captain lies, and that even if he were telling the truth, the Inquisitor cannot choose information over the life of her brother.

Option 1: The Inquisitor chooses to restrain Ellinor in exchange for the information (which unlocks a war table mission to gather more intelligence on Red Templars). She screams in agony as the Knight Captain kills Avery. Afterward, she breaks away and attacks the Inquisitor, who must kill her.

Option 2: The Inquisitor chooses to help Ellinor and Avery. They battle the Knight-Captain and are rewarded with a unique weapon that can be looted from his body. When the battle has ended, a cutscene ensues. Ellinor will run to Avery and meet him in a tearful embrace. He will ask how she found him, and she’ll explain that she’s been looking for years, and that it was the Inquisitor who helped her finally reach him. After the cutscene, Avery will heal the party and is recruited as an agent to the Inquisition. Upon speaking to Ellinor back at Skyhold, the player will see a cutscene in the tavern as Ellinor and Avery talk and laugh together along with other members of the inner circle. Seeing the Inquisitor, she will kindly excuse herself from the merriment to thank them properly for reuniting her with him.

Tarot change option 1: Three of Swords (representing heartbreak, emotional grief, sorrow, pain, and hurt)

Tarot change option 2: Nine of Cups (representing contentment, satisfaction, gratitude, and wishes come true)

#inquisitor as a companion #inquisitor as companion #inquisitor trevelyan #dragon age #dragon age: inquisition #ellinor

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mingkily · 4 years

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｡☆✼★━ [11:17] | s.mg ━★✼☆｡

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starring: mingi x reader

fsk-0: fluff

volume: 1.6k words

vip access: @midnightseonghwa and @yunhoiseyecandy !

“so you got me this sweater so you could wear it?”

“so we could wear it.”

in the one and a half years you’d known mingi already, he’d made it a point to run around the entire flat every single time there was an occasion for him to receive presents as if you, for some reason unbeknownst to everyone but him, had decided to hide his presents the way was so common for easter, even when it wasn’t at all easter. no matter how often you’d told him that no, you hadn’t hidden anything, the presents he received were the only presents there were, he would always run around and look for more. so for him to miss a present that was literally right underneath the christmas tree just because it was wrapped in green wrapping paper instead of the usual bright red one was hilarious to you, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he investigated the crime scene that was your bathroom (why he thought you’d hide a christmas present in the bathroom you’d never know), entirely oblivious to the present waiting for him right there in your little living room.

“why are you laughing?”, your boyfriend asked, exasperatedly, running his hands through his hair before he opened the toilet’s cistern and continued his search for whatever presents he assumed you’d hidden, and then: “i knew there were more presents! why can’t you just tell me where they are?”, and he sounded so whiny that, as much as you didn’t want to laugh at him because you loved him and because he was adorable, your laughter only increased.

“you’re so mean!”, that pout on his face that you by now knew to be only partly authentic, but also partly there because he had learned that if he pouted at you you’d give in to him within a few minutes. knowing that this was just a strategy to get you to reveal your secrets didn’t mean that you were immune to him, though.

so, because you loved him so much and because you didn’t want to see him even the tiniest bit upset, you offered: “give me a kiss and i’ll show you the last present.”

he did as asked without hesitation, abandoned the cistern to give you his undivided attention, and to give you a kiss, too, a sweet kiss that had you know that he really wanted this present, but that also had you know that he really adored you.

“show me now?”, he murmured against your lips as he broke the kiss, but you didn’t want to just yet, wanted another kiss because really, how could you not? so you took advantage of the current position and pulled him against you for another kiss, though you kept it short because you had promised him that you’d show him the present after the first and you didn’t want to keep him waiting, no matter how much you enjoyed kissing him.

“now”, you promised, and kept that promise right away, too, by dragging him back to the living room, where you revealed the present he had so expertly missed, his eyes going wide as he realised that despite his careful examination of the christmas scene he had missed an entire present, and a rather big one at that.

“open it”, you urged him, and you didn’t have to tell him twice, his big hands ripping at the wrapping paper like an excited puppy would devour its very first newspaper, leaving little pieces of green to trickle onto the floor like snow.

“it’s soft!” was the first thing he noticed about the sweater that had been a group effort from you, hongjoong and yunho, hongjoong and you upcycling the sweater while yunho had been responsible for distracting his best friend so much that said best friend wouldn’t notice just how much time you’d been spending with the short man.

then, once the sweater was fully freed from its gift wrap constricts and spread out on your boyfriend’s much more spacious lap: “did you make this?”

because it was very much obvious that this was handmade, a somewhat wobbly tie dye heart adorning the middle of the sweater’s front, and a lot of tiny, equally wobbly drawings covering the rest of it. it wasn’t exactly pretty, but it had been made with love, and mingi could tell that you’d tried your hardest.

“hongjoong helped me because i’ve never done tie dye or anything before. but yeah, i made this”, smiling at him, though anxiously, part of you scared that he wouldn’t like it after you’d tried so hard to make something sweet and personal for him.

“it’s so cute! thank you”, and he pulled you towards him by your wrist, laughing when you near knocked him over but preventing the two of you from falling by using his free hand to keep his body up, offering himself as a shield to keep your face from having an unpleasant encounter with the floor.

“you like it?”, you asked him, having taken advantage of the position you’d ended up in by shuffling so your head was in his lap, looking up at him with your head resting where his ankles were crossed, body spread out in front of him like a leg extension.

“i love it! but”, now examining the sweater more closely and finding what he assumed to be a flaw caused by you not knowing his size and simply having opted for the biggest one since he always towered over you, “i’m not that big. this could probably fit two of me.”

you’d intended to wait a little longer with revealing the purpose of the sweater being way bigger than your boyfriend’s regular shirts - and those were usually already oversized -, but now that he’d put you on the spot and somewhat implied that you didn’t know his size, as if you weren’t paying attention to small details like that, you had to defend your honour, and this defending came at the expense of what you’d wanted to keep as a surprise for when he decided to wear the shirt to bed.

“not two of you”, you told him, mischief in your eyes, “one of you and one of me.”

though mingi didn’t yet understand the hidden purpose of his gift, just nodding at you as he approved of your statement.

“yeah, that would fit too.”

your adorable giant was a little slow sometimes, but that was part of why you loved him, and it wasn’t like you couldn’t help him understand.

“put it on”, you suggested, something he did without hesitation, near drowning in the massive but incredibly soft shirt, and he spread his arms to show it off to you who had now left your comfortable position on his lap to look at him and, once that was done, to join him in the sweater.

“now you look the way i feel when i wear your shirts”, you assessed with a smile, causing him to tease you a little.

“cute and really tiny?”

“yeah. now don’t move”, an order he followed despite not knowing why he was sentenced to immobility so suddenly, but he started to understand when you settled on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, and pulled up his new shirt while simultaneously ducking your head a little before both of you were now wearing his sweater.

“i’m glad it works”, you told him with a sheepish grin on your face, weaseling your arms out from the sweater-y confinement they were currently trapped in through the neckline so you could wrap them around his neck in preparation of the armada of kisses that were without a doubt coming his way any second now.

“so you got me this sweater so you could wear it?”, pretending to be offended at your apparent greediness, wanting to wear his present, to which you replied: “so we could wear it”, followed by said armada of kisses which served well in making him shut up.

“this was such a cute idea”, your boyfriend praised your choice of gift once his lips were no longer falling victim to your incessant kissing, taking the chance to peck your chin because that was most easily reachable as you smiled at him proudly.

“i’m glad. so you’ll stop disassembling our flat on the hunt for more presents?”, a question that was equal parts hopeful and teasing - you still hadn’t forgotten the way he’d looked in the cistern for potential hidden presents, and you’d like for him to quit his efforts before he disassembled something that would be hard if not impossible to reassemble by yourself.

“mmh”, pondering for a moment with his face hidden in your neck, something you took as a good sign because as long as he kept his face there you weren’t at risk of him running off and dissecting your kitchen cupboards or anything of the sorts.

“please?”, you pleaded, knowing full well that he was hardly ever able to resist you when you whined like that, and it once more proved to be effective because he sighed out a “fine” against your neck before choosing to ruin your peaceful, relaxed state of mind instead of your furniture for once, with his chosen method of destruction being neck kisses that started out soft and sweet but that soon morphed into him tickling you, not letting up no matter how much you struggled in his hold.

“you can’t escape me. you’re stuck here”, he growled against your neck, a threat followed by even more kisses pressed to awfully ticklish spots, attacking ticklish spot after ticklish spot with a deadly precision because he knew where all of them were, usually doing his best to avoid them but now using the knowledge as means to aid in his loving torture.

“you’re stuck in my shirt”, he added on, still not letting up, and despite the way you were laughing you silently already cursed yourself. you shouldn’t have gotten him that damn shirt.

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peterxwade24 · 4 years

Text

Safety Found in Red Sleeves

Chapter 4

Before we get into the meat of the chapter, I need everyone to remember that usually, I love Bruce as a dad. However, this fic paints him in a different light. If you don’t want to see Bruce painted as a bad dad, you can turn back after you read the first 2500 words of this fic (which is almost 4000 words long).

Mẹ is, possibly, Vietnamese for mom/mother/mama (or at least that’s what Google translate is telling me).

However, without further adieu, let’s get on with the story.

Thana looked around, her breath coming out in harsh bursts that sounded in the dark alleyway. She ran a hair through her dark red hair, freezing when there was more hair than she remembered their being. She heard a familiar high, sharp laugh that sent her into a panic. She looked around, trying to find Jay-Jay.

Thana paused, trying to remember when the last time she had to worry about where Jay-Jay was, before he was taken in by Bruce Wayne. She turned and saw her father's red hair out of the corner of her eye.

She bolted, tearing through streets that seemed darker and scarier with every step. She felt tears start streaming down her face, causing her to miss the turn to Uncle Ozzy's establishment.

She stumbled into an abandoned warehouse, seeing Jay-Jay tied to a chair with blood taking the same path down his face that tears were taking down hers.

"Jay-Jay?"

"Pixie?!" Jay-Jay gasped out. "Run!"

Thana turned around to watch Jervis Tetch close the door with a maniacal smile on his face.

"Looks like I not only caught Alice's white rabbit, but also Alice herself." Jervis' face split into a sinister smile as he walked towards the duo, swinging a crowbar around.

*-*-*-*-*-*

Thana gasped awake, her ribs throbbing in a manner similar to the way her ribs throbbed in her dream. She frantically scrambled to uncover herself, immensely grateful that her room was the highest one in the building.

Thana grabbed her phone off of the charger and unlocked it quickly. She scrolled through her contacts before landing on Kim's.

She worried her lip as she listened to her phone ring. She was about to hang up when she heard it connect.

"Mèo con?" Kim's voice sounded over the phone. "What time is it?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just, he had me and Jay-Jay. He had me and Jay-Jay and he was hurting us."

“Mèo con. Listen to me. He can’t get you, I will not let him get you. Do you want me to come over?” Kim’s voice grew clearer with every word, his dedication to his friend shining through.

“Would it be okay if I came over?” Thana’s voice was quiet and hesitant, a tone she hadn’t used in a long time.

Kim let out a yawn. “You know my Mẹ loves you and will let you in whenever you need us.”

---

Thana and Kim walked into school that day in matching hoodies, however Thana’s still had the full sleeves while Kim’s had the sleeves shortened. Kim wore baggy black jeans paired with white sneakers while Thana wore ripped black jeans and white sneakers.

In the few years that Kim had known Thana, they had dressed similarly on several occasions. The two looked almost like siblings on a good day and on a bad day Thana looked like a mini female Kim. Today happened to be a good day, where the duo just looked like fraternal twins.

Thana sat beside Kim, on the inside beside the window while Kim sat on the aisle. Nino and Chloé sat in front of them while Sabrina and Adrien sat in front of them. Juleka and Rose sat behind Kim and Thana and across the aisle from Ivan and Max. Nathaniel, Alix and Mylene sat in front of them leaving a desk between them and Alya and Lila.

Chloé in a surprising, to some in the class, move showed up that day in cuffed ripped denim jeans paired with a yellow mock neck turtleneck shirt, black boots, a black belt and a puffy red cardigan. Nino, unsurprisingly to everyone but Alya and Lila, showed up that day in cuffed slightly distressed blue jeans, a red striped shirt, white sneakers and a black beanie.

Alya and Lila, being the two most unused to the four’s odd dynamic, simply stared before turning back to one another.

“So, anyways, like I was saying.” Lila continued. She’d decided to come to school dressed in an orange ruched long sleeved dress with a pair of nude heels. “Jason Todd is like my best friend. He came to me and wanted to know if I thought he should forgive Bruce, oh I mean Mr. Wayne, for what he did.”

Thana glared at Lila, her gray blue eyes going cold (and looking far too much like her father’s eyes) before she slammed her hands down on the desk. “Jason Todd is your best friend? Funny, I don’t remember you being there when we were freezing our asses off in the dark alleys of Gotham. Funny, I don’t remember you being there when I had to stitch him up because he got the shit beat out of him for trying to get money to feed us! Funny, I don’t remember you being there when Deathstroke rained bullets on us for existing!”

“Ms. Dupain-Cheng! That is enough. Go to Principal Damocles’ office!” Madame Bustier called out from the front of the room.

Thana turned her eyes on their teacher before collecting her belongings, her friends all stood up and began collecting their belongings as well.

“Where do you three think you’re going?” Mlle. Bustier questioned the trio.

“To Daddy’s hotel after Principal Damocles tells Fragolina to go home for the day. Fragolina just had to listen to Rossi lie about her brother, whom she hasn’t seen since she was pulled from the streets of Gotham.” Chloé stated as though it should have been common sense.

Nino and Kim nodded before Kim took Thana’s belongings. Nino turned to Adrien before glancing at Alix and back to Adrien. “We’ll keep Alqamar calm until you get out of school.”

Adrien nodded before he watched his four friends shuffle out of the room. He hoped everything would be alright and that they could give the four temporary holders their Miraculouses today instead of waiting any longer.

---

Adrien and Alix walked into Chloé’s suite in Le Grande Paris hotel carrying six people worth of homework. “Niú! Shé! Jiǎohuá! Xiǎo māo! Guī and I brought homework!”

Chloé turned to look at the duo, a black bandana wrapped around her head with her hair thrown up in a messy bun, before turning back to the task at hand, painting Kim’s nails black to match her own and Nino’s. “Fragolina is in the blanket fort she and Kim built over by my bed. Nino is over there-” she nodded to indicate the area “-listening to music.”

Alix nodded and smiled. “Sweet. You go to Kiti and I’ll go lay down with Nino.”

Adrien rolled his eyes as Alix went over to Nino and invaded the boy’s space, laughing when Nino simply pulled a second set of headphones out of his bag and placed them on Alix’s head before laying back down. He slowly traversed Chloé’s room, knowing that if he moved anything out of place the blonde would be upset with him, before smiling at the blanket fort that was made. “Thana? Can I come in?”

“As long as you don’t give me that dumb high road bullshit. I can handle her lying about Sabine and Tom not wanting me, they only took me in because they wanted a daughter to be just like them, and I can handle her thinking she’s turning the whole class against me, but I refuse to let her lie about Jay-Jay like that. Jay-Jay doesn’t deserve it and I refuse to let you make me feel like shit for sticking to my beliefs.”

Adrien let out a dry laugh and shook his head. “I would never.” Adrien pushed the door to the fort open and let a small smile flit across his face. “Oh Thana.” Adrien sat beside Thana, pulling her into his side with an arm around her shoulders, and hummed a song his mother used to sing to him. Adrien knew his friend needed him and was okay with being there for her.

---

Desgracia, flanked by Trâu and Renarde Véloce, followed Althaeban into the place where they were meeting the four temporary holders. They each held a small octagonal box with the red symbol of the Guardian on top of it in preparation of this meeting.

Alix ran past them with a quick call of, “soon!” over her shoulder. She ducked into an alleyway out of the way and from the opposite direction Salihafa landed on the scene.

Monsieur Punaise strolled into the plaza, a small square of grass surrounded by sidewalks with buildings on three sides and the fourth side open to the rest of the city, with a small grin. He was excited to help the temporary heroes reach their full potential. He bumped Desgracia’s shoulder before standing beside Salihafa.

Their four chosen rushed into the plaza, their hair all but streaks of colour until they stopped. Alicia stops closer to the gathered heroes than her three friends, Bellamy just behind her in front of Marc and Brielle. Marc’s black hair stood out beside Brielle’s short blonde bob. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair before looking around at his friends.

“Is everyone alright? Everyone’s together?” Bellamy asked as he double checked that his three friends were there.

Alicia laughed and shook her head, her dark violet hair swaying behind her. “Yes Mom. We’re all here and alright.”

Brielle nudged Bellamy to get his attention. “Bellamy. We have company.”

Salihafa couldn’t contain her laughter any longer. “Oh Bug boy. They’re hilarious. Can we keep them?”

Monsieur Punaise shook his head. “Hafa, we can’t keep them, not if they don’t want to be kept.”

Marc smiled, watching the heroes interact as though they were simply friends and not the Heroes of Paris. Their eyes flicked over the assembled heroes before landing on the four holding octagonal boxes. “What’s going on?” They looked back at Monsieur Punaise and Salihafa and frowned. “Why do they have octagonal boxes?”

Monsieur Punaise’s grin grew only larger before he waved at the four chosen. “Hello you four. Due to special circumstances the six of us will be out of Paris for a while, which is where you four come in. In our absence, we ask that you, Alicia, Bellamy, Brielle and Marc, step in to assist us in our fight against Hawkmoth.” As each name is called, a hero steps up in front of them and presents them with a box.

Renarde Véloce presented Alicia with an octagonal box with a smile. “This is the Miraculous of the Mouse, which will grant you the power of Multiplication. Will you accept this Miraculous and fight alongside your fellow heroes to protect Paris in our absence? Will you return this Miraculous when your time is up?”

Alicia nodded and accepted the box.

Trâu presented Bellamy with an octagonal box with a slight upturn of his lips. “This is the Miraculous of the Dragon, which will grant you the power of Perfection. Will you accept this Miraculous and fight alongside your fellow heroes to protect Paris in our absence? Will you return this Miraculous when your time is up?”

Bellamy nodded seriously and accepted the box from the hero.

Althaeban presented Brielle with a similar octagonal box. “This is the Miraculous of the Bee, which will grant you the power of Subjection. Will you accept this Miraculous and fight alongside your fellow heroes to protect Paris in our absence? Will you return this Miraculous when your time is up?”

Brielle smiled professionally and nodded. “I will do my best.” She accepted the box from the hero.

Desgracia presented Marc with the last octagonal box. “This is the Miraculous of the Horse, which will grant you the power of Teleportation. Will you accept this Miraculous, fight alongside your fellow heroes to protect Paris in our absence, and give safe passage to Monsieur Punaise to help him purify the Akuma and reverse the damage done? Will you return this Miraculous when your time is up?”

Marc looked at the hero and nodded, accepting the box. “Yes, Desgracia.”

-*-*-*

Jason scrubbed his hands down his face, looking over the paperwork in front of him. He let out a tired sigh before standing up and stretching his arms over his head. Jason felt thin arms wrap around his waist and he smiled before ruffling the short black hair atop Damian’s head. “Hey, Little Nugget.”

“Baba,” Damian responded. “What’re you doing?”

Jason chuckled, sitting back down on the couch and pulling Damian onto his lap. “Going over some paperwork. Would you want to legally be considered mine? To legally be Damian al Ghul-Todd?”

Damian’s green eyes widened and a hesitant smile spread across his face. “Do you mean that?”

Jason smiled at his little boy. “Of course I do ya hayati.” Jason wrapped his arms around Damian and rested his chin on the top of his head. “You’ve been mine in my heart for nearly three years now, Little Nugget.”

Damian laughed, and nodded. “Okay.” Damian nuzzled Jason’s shoulder before sliding off of his lap to go talk to one of the men Jason claimed as brothers.

Jason sighed and ran his hand over his face.

---

Jason, accompanied by Damian and his dumb brothers, strode into the Iceberg Lounge. “Cobblepott?”

Oswald Cobblepott poked his head up from behind the bar with an inquistial “yes?”

“Do you have a legal guy? Someone who helped you get this place?”

“Why do you ask?” Oswald asked, slinging a towel over his shoulder.

“I want to legally be able to claim Damian. I don’t want anyone to be able to take him away from me.”

“Good for you.” Oswald smiled before appearing to get lost in thought. “I believe Dent is still a member of the bar. He could probably help you.”

Jason nodded, “thanks.” He turned to his brothers and his Little Nugget. “Can one of you watch him while I go talk to Dent?”

Dick nodded. “Can we introduce him to Pam?”

Jason looked over his Little Nugget’s outfit, a red hoodie with blue jeans and sneakers, before nodding. “Remember, red sleeves will keep him safe. Do you have your’s?”

Tim pushed the sleeve of Conner’s leather jacket to reveal long red sleeves while Dick just pulled on a letterman jacket with red leather sleeves (a jacket he’d had commissioned by their favourite designer (who just seemed to get Gothamite fashion for some reason)).

Jason pulled Damian into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Behave for your dumb uncles, and don’t take off the red sleeves. You may have been publicly claimed as the only biological son of Bruce Wayne but that doesn’t mean anything to bad guys.”

Damian nodded, a very small smile on his face. “I promise I’ll behave Baba.”

---

Damian, Dick and Tim walked into the Botanical Garden with appreciative gasps at the fauna.

Dick and Tim smiled at their nephew, at the clear awe that was displayed on his face. They shared a look before looking back at Damian, to notice that he’d pulled out his sketchbook and was squatting in front of a patch of flowers they were sure he’d never seen before drawing them in as much detail as he could.

“What are you three doing here? Doesn’t Daddy Dearest frown upon mingling with the riff raff?” Pam’s amused voice carried throughout the oversized greenhouse. Where most others would hear a mocking tone in her voice, the older two knew that what she said was merely said in jest.

“Hey Pam.” Dick called out as Tim went to collect their wayward charge, who’d managed to wander a little too close to a patch of pitcher plants.

“Morning glory, Solidago.” Pam smiled and waved at the older boys. “Well hello there child of Sundew, what a beautiful day it is today. Were you observing the patch of Sundew and other Drosera plants?”

Dami nodded and smiled. “Lycoris.” Damian waved at the red head. “They’re lovely, just like Baba.”

Pam smiled and scooped the tyke up into her arms. “Let’s go see the different plants.”

Dick and Tim could only share confused looks with one another as Pam carried Damian around the greenhouse.

---

Jason sat in the back corner of the café he was supposed to be meeting Harvey Dent in, a window to his side and the wall at his back. He brought the cup of coffee up to his lips, savouring the aroma of café coffee as he waited for the older man.

Harvey Dent walked into the café a few minutes later, his head down but his eyes focused on the path in front of him. Harvey slid into the chair opposite Jason, blue meeting blue, before Harvey smiled. “How can I help you?”

Jason set the cup of coffee down, folded his hands on the table in front of him, and took a deep breath. “I need you to help me file for legal custody of Damian al Ghul-Wayne. He has been my son for the last three years but Mr. Wayne publicly claimed him the other day. I can get Damian’s mother’s signature but Mr. Wayne is going to fight it.” Jason looked down at his hands, before letting out a shaky breath. “Mr. Wayne didn’t even know that he existed until a few days before the press conference. Mr. Dent, I need your help to keep my son.”

Harvey Dent looked at the man, really looked at him, and nodded. “Okay kid. Anything to get under Brucie Wayne’s skin.” Harvey chuckled, before his eyes landed on Jason’s red sleeves. “Why is one sleeve shorter than the other?”

“It’s for my sister.” Jason answered with a shrug.

Harvey frowned. “Does that ever accurately explain it?”

“With everyone who knew her.” Jason finished his cup of coffee and looked at Harvey. “Can we set up a time for an appointment to go over the details at a later date? I have to go rescue my son from my brothers.”

Harvey nodded and rose, extending a hand to Jason. “What time next week works best for you?”

Jason grasped the older man’s hand and shook it. “I’ll probably be at the Lounge Monday through Wednesday from ten to three and only there Thursday and Friday from noon to two. My son wants to spend some time getting to know his Aleuma’s friends.”

Harvey smiled and nodded. “I will see you Tuesday at ten.”

Jason watched the older man walk out of the café before he turned to find his waitress. He smiled charmingly at her. “I’m sorry miss. I don’t mean to bother you, I just need to get my check from you as soon as you can bring it to me. I let two of my brothers take my son out for the day and I have a feeling that they took him somewhere I didn’t approve of and I need to go rescue him.”

The waitress, named Kellie, smiled and nodded. “Of course sir. Just one moment.” She disappeared for a moment before returning with his check. “I hope your son understands how lucky he is to have you as a father.”

Jason smiled and nodded. “He knows.” Jason pulled out his wallet and gave her his debit card. “Thank you for your help.” He put a twenty dollar bill down on the table and walked out of the section before taking his card back from the waitress. “Have a great rest of your day.”

---

Jason woke up on Sunday with his son splayed across his chest. He smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Damian’s head. He loved waking up in the morning, and not at three am to his son having a nightmare. Unfortunately, his phone started ringing loudly, “What’s Up Danger” pouring from his speaker.

“Roy?” Jason mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Jason? I’m sorry if I woke you up. I just, I need help.”

“Roy. Are you using again? Where are you? Where’s Lian?”

“No, I’m not using again. Lian and I are at Oliver’s. Jade just dumped Lian on me, Jade just dumped Lian on me and Lian has this brand on the small of her back and I want to kill the mother of my child.”

“Hey. Roy. No. I can send Alfred to get the two of you and have him drop you off at my apartment so I can make you coffee and breakfast? You’ll get to officially meet my son?”

“You have a son?” Roy whispered in shock.

“Do you need me to call Alfred to see if he can give you a ride? Or can you make it on your own?” Jason ran a hand through his son’s hair and smiled as his Little Nugget nuzzled deeper into his embrace.

“Can you call Alfred?”

---

Roy Harper sat at the island in Jason’s apartment. Dick stood in the living room cooing down at Lian, who he held against his chest.

“Tell me about you and Jade.” Jason smiled at his friend as he cooked.

“It wasn’t anything special.” Roy took a sip of coffee. “Lian is the best thing to ever happen to either of us, or at least I thought she was.”

“Baba?” Damian stumbled into the kitchen and wrapped himself around Jason’s leg.

“Good morning Kutlat Saghira. Say hi to Roy.” Jason ruffled Damian’s hair with a smile.

“Hi Roy.” Damian mumbled.

Roy smiled and waved. “Hi Damian.”

---

“Hey Jaybird?” Dick called as he walked into the kitchen.

Jason glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. "What's up Dickiebird?"

Dick slumped against the counter and offered him a smile. "So, Kor'i and I are getting divorced. Kor'i's going back to Tamaran but I get to keep Mar'i. And because I love you and don't want to put you out, Wally's offered to let Mar'i and I stay with him."

"Okay. Are you okay?" Jason wiped his hands on a nearby towel before turning to face him. "Do you need anything? Do you need me to take you out to go drinking?"

Dick chuckled and shook his head. "No Jaybird. I don't need you to take me drinking. Thanks for being so chill about it."

"You're my brother Dick, and the uncle of my son. I'm not B, I'm always going to be here for you."

---

Jason sat beside Mr. Dent across the table from Bruce Wayne and his lawyers.

“What is this about Jason?” Bruce sounded exasperated and shook his head.

“Mr. Wayne. My client called this meeting to discuss custody of young Mister al Ghul-Wayne.”

“Custody? Of my son?” Bruce’s voice grew dark and Jason had to fight against his instinct to flinch at the man’s tone.

Mr. Dent frowned at the man before looking at the man’s legal team. “Please keep your client under control. My client was a minor under his care when he had his unfortunate accident.”

Bruce glowered. “Oh. Boohoo.”

“Mr. Wayne. It is in your best interest to calm yourself.”

Jason glanced at Harvey, who nodded, before looking back at the legal team. “I just want custody of Mr. al Ghul-Wayne. I don’t want financial support from you, I’m not doing this for your money. I’m doing this because I love him.”

Bruce growled and stood up. He was about to speak when Jason spoke again.

“Besides, after what you said after the press conference I thought you’d be glad to be rid of him, seeing as he is the child of a rogue, and the grandchild of a rogue.”

“You shut your fucking mouth you ungrateful brat.”

“Mr. Wayne.” The head of the Wayne Enterprises legal team, Abraham Shields, spoke. “Calm yourself before we have you removed from the room and we, the legal team, act in the best interest of the company.”

Mr. Dent’s face grew in a gleeful smile. “All my client wants is to retain custody of young Mr. al Ghul-Wayne, as my client has been young Mr. al Ghul-Wayne’s primary guardian and caretaker for the last three years.”

---

The two legal teams, and their clients, sat in the courtroom of Judge Alika Mahelona with Damian al Ghul-Wayne sitting on the witness stand.

“Now, Mr. al Ghul-Wayne-” Judge Mahelona began before Damian cut her off.

“I’m sorry, excuse me Your Honour, but Baba says my name is Damian al Ghul-Todd.” Damian in all his adorable nine-year-old politeness helpfully corrected the judge.

Judge Mahelona smiled. “Can you point to who Baba is for me?”

Damian smiled and nodded before pointing at Jason. “That’s Baba. He takes care of me and loves me even when I make mistakes.”

“He sounds like a good father. Now, I’m going to ask a hard question and I want you to answer as honestly as you can. Can you do that for me?”

Damian smiled. “Yes Your Honour.”

“Who do you want to live with?” Judge Mahelona asked the boy, she was not expecting his answer.

“I want to keep living with my Baba. He helped me get away from the bad place with the bad people, and he’s very nice. He’s helping me acclimate to America and he doesn’t get mad when I can’t remember the words in English. I haven’t known Baba very long but he’s the best parent I’ve ever had, because I only met Mr. Wayne a few weeks ago.”

Judge Mahelona smiled and nodded. “Okay. Then I grant custody to Mr. Todd.”

Bruce growled and threw a glare in Jason’s direction. “Fine.” He stood up, turned on his heel and stalked out of the courtroom.

“I’d like to formally introduce the Todd family.”

Damian ran off of the witness stand and attacked Jason in a hug.

Taglist

@southamericangothamite @maribat-is-lifeblood @mystery-5-5 @our-preciousss @mochegato @chocolatecatstheron @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @2confused-2doanything @wannajointhecrabcult @dreamykitty25 @tomanyfandomsonmymind @moonlightstar64 @justafanwarrior @mialuvscats @pheony1882 @pepelachanel @moongoddesskiana @abrx2002 @ladybug-182 @greatcatblaze @thatonecroc @vixen-uchiha @superbwhispersconnoisseur @lilkymilky @susiej1118 @thatonecroc

So, what do you think?

#maribat #ml crossover #mlb crossover #ml x dc #mlb x dc #gothamite!marinette #platonic sibling jasonette #Safety Found in Red Sleeves #SFiRS

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