#and she still very much does the couch thing even as a teenager but there's no more pretending

[marymycete]

rose is so physically affectionate with the people she cares about which mostly stems from her isolation as a child and lack of a connection to anyone her age while simultaneously being raised alongside soldiers / agents. but she is so prone to just casually making contact with the people close to her ; wordlessly leaning into their sides, resting her head over their shoulder, knocking her knee into theirs when sitting next to each other. it's an odd mixture of somewhat subconscious and somewhat intentional, like a cat headbutting someone when they want attention.

[softfem-dom]

heyyy Ii love you and your writting and I was wondering if you could write something? it's kinda a different rq from what I saw you writing but would you be willing to write sepparate headcanons/a short blurb for different Logans? (esp the xmen 97', origins, worst wolverine, patch if u write for him and the dofp logan)

if youre comfortable with this rq style, could you write something for the different moment they/someone realized they were a girl dad™ with a platonic!teen!yn? if not that's okay dw <33

different wolverines, same cub different!logans x fem!teen!reader

a/n : okay this is diferent from the requests I usually get but it's a very welcome change in format! pd: i love you too anon <33

wc : aprox 500 words for drabble.

FLUFF , GIRLDAD!LOGAN(S) , TEEN!READER , MUTANT!READER , TW FOR PAST ABUSE MENTION IN ORIGINS LOGAN.

xmen97'!logan . origins!logan . dofp!logan . patch!logan . worst!logan

XMEN97'!LOGAN HOWLETT

Ever since Proffesor Charles' death things were a bit tense in the team. Scott, even as hard as he tried, wasn't all that ready to be a leader and with a baby in the way and Logan acting like a jerk to him anytime the opportunite arose, things weren't getting that better.

However, strangely, today the team wasn't that much of a team. It was more like the family you all were. And the way you were playing on the basket court was something to see. With two of the men without shirt, Jean as a ref, and Jubilee and you bursting with energy things were about to take an interesting turn. Especially when Gambit and Logan were placed into opposite teams.

You spent the majority of the time in the sidelines, talking about the latest gossip with Jubilee, while you cheered for Gambito —who seemed to be eating it all up. But then the orange ball bounced your way, and you grabbed it before thinking of the consequences. So now you were running for your life, trying to evade the opposite team's players —which was a difficult task given how good Beast seemed to be at this.

And just when you were about to reach the basket and score, you bumped into a solid wall of muscle. You groaned under your breath, already knowing who you had just bumped into, before you were suddenly being lifted into the air. The ball fell to the ground for Morph to grab.

"an' what do we have 'ere, hmn?" Logan laughed, his voice gruff and deep as he looked at you with a smug ass smirk on his lips. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes playfully and making you scoff, before deciding to throw you up into the air and catch you.

"LOGAN!"

"what? too much action for ya, princess?"

Jean could only watch from the sidelines, a hand resting over her round belly. Rogue caught onto that, her eyes having been trained on your laughing form as Logan kept throwing you into the air and catching you —like a father with his baby. "seems like Scott ain't the only father around, huh, sugah?"

Jean chuckled softly, a fond glint on her eyes as she stared at the scene playing before her. "it does seems like it, it does" she sighed with a smile on her face.

___

ORIGINS!LOGAN HOWLETT

Since the moment James entered his homely cabin, finding it oddly silent, and walked right onto his girlfriend —Kayla— trying to convince a blood and dirt covered teenage girl into eating he knew he was in for a wild ride. His girlfriend had always been alright with the fact a mutant was living with her, and now it seemed like that number had leveled up to two.

They still hadn't been able to get much out of you, just the fact that you were an experimented mutant that had escaped and was probably being searched for. Still, his sweetheart of a partner didn't seem to mind the risk —just like she didn't mind his adamantium claws.

He was sitting on the couch, the fireplace lit up and casting a gentle warm glow over his face. However, his hazel eyes weren't looking at the hypnotizing flames, but at you. You were way more healthier than when Kayla had found you lost and scared out in the woods near the cabin, less sickly-looking. You were simply minding your bussiness, seated on the floor —on the warm and fluffy carpet— as you read one of the books that Kayla had kept from her early teenagehood.

"what're you reading, kid?" his voice was calm, soft, and with a bit of the usual rumbly tone it held. You looked up from the pages to the man sitting on the couch. "the princess bride" you spoke quietly.

You didn't speak all that much, short sentences and direct meaning behind them. But Logan still found himself humming along to your simple answer. "that one's good,"

"yeah"

"you met iñigo yet, bub?"

"uh-huh"

He found himself sporting a small smile at your responses, you weren't a troublesome kid you just had trouble opening up. But it was fine, he had all the time in the world to coax you out.

"you know what Kay' used ta' say 'bout him?" he asked you, his voice soft. Hoping to keep the conversation going for a while.

Your curious tilt of the head and the way you lowered the book slightly —subcounsciously— was enough answer.

"she used ta' say I was like tha man" he hummed, looking at you with a smile. His girlfriend did use to say that he reminded her of the spanish henchman.

A beat of silence. A wrinkle in your brow and your nose scrunched up. "you're way better" was your quiet response before you went back to reading.

He would never deny the way those words made the rest of his day, and his week, and his month. He didn't even know it yet, but when the day came that all of him but blurred parts was lost, he'd still remember a girl telling him he was way better than the swordman.

___

DOFP!LOGAN HOWLETT

Yes, he had traveled back in time to save the future from the centinels. And yes, he was on it. But while Charles and Hank tried their best to track Magneto to get him to collaborate, he decided it would harm no one to have a bit of fun with this version of you.

He knew you in the future, and you were the dictionary description of a real woman. You knew your abilities, had self-confidence, and had that damn smile that could challenge the sun. But, right now, in the past, you were nothing but a feisty 15 year old that he was having the time of his life bothering.

He walked through the empty halls of the lived-in School with that confidence and 'no-one-can-sweep-me-off-my-feet' attitude he carried everywhere, his tinted aviator glasses resting idly on the bridge of his nose. He was in search of you, and he knew exactly where to find you.

He opened the door to your room with his usual carelessness, not even bothering to knock just for the sake of annoying you, and laughing —loudly— at the way you almost jumped out of your skin.

"Logan! fucking god-!" you screeched from your place on your bed, hand grabbing at your chest. "you almost gave me a fuckin' heart attack, you asshole!"

"yeah, yeah, whatever you say, bub" he laughed, shaking his head in amusement. Before his eyes fell on the pink —glittery— notebook open wide infront of your crossed legs. "ohhh, and what is that?"

He smirked at the way you scrambled to close the thing, pink gel pen falling to the covers without a sound, as you clutched the notebook to your chest. The words written on the cover exposed you. A diary.

"nothing!"

"is that a fuckin' diary, bub?" he snorted, walking over to the bed with an amused smirk on your face.

"no it is not!"

"yes it is"

"no"

"yes"

"nah"

"yeah"

"nuh-huh" you shook your head. "yeah-uh" he replied, noding his head with a smirk on his face.

You two stood in a silent stare competition for a few seconds, but he had reflexes way better than yours and much more strenght aswell. And he ended up snatching the pink notebook from your gasp. "HEY!"

You were quick to scramble up to stand over your bed, trying to pry the glittery item from his hands as he kept dodging your hands with mocking ease while he opened it on the last page. The page you had been writting about him. When you saw his eyes start to read the words written in girly pink you sighed, a red hue creeping onto your face and growing more and more intense with each second that passed before he looked up at you again. His smirk had turned even more cocky and smug if that was even possible.

You groaned loudly before dropping back onto the bed, pulling a pillow over your face. "you think that 'bout me, bub?" you groaned in embarassment as an answer, getting a deep chuckle in return. "yeah, well, I appreciate you too, ya little feisty thing"

Your embarassment eased up a little, knowing athat at least he was not going to ridiculize you over the way you had written about him and the way you wanted to be like him when you were older —the way you held him over a gold pedestal. AS a role model.

"but, let me tell ya a thing real quick" he added. You heard the sound of him closing the diary and placing it safely on your desk. Then the bed dipped slightly. "when ya grow old, don't be like good ol' me, be like you. That's how I met ya in the future, remember?"

Just when you were about to pull the pillow off your face, and thank him, he went back to his jerk behaviour and decided to playfully suffocate you for one or two seconds. "I'm still gonna make fun of ya, though" he added. You could hear the smirk on his lips as you groaned a loud "fuck".

___

PATCH!LOGAN HOWLETT

You had gotten admited to Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters when you were a kid, finding a family closer than the one bound by blood. If someone, anyone, had told you that you'd be going on missions with the X-Men when you grew a pair you wouldn't have believed them.

But right now, you realized that maybe you did aspire to be someone in the hero world. Especially when it's the Wolverine —the X-Men— the one taking you with him on his side quests.

It wasn't beacuse you had some kind of insane, min-blowing mutation that made you invincible, nah, not really. The thing was that your mutation allowed you to locate mutants and perceive their powers and level, and that did damn come in handy when it came to tracking down the targets of his missions.

And that's how you had endedp up staying in a hotel room with Logan in Madripoor. The city of crime and casinos.

You were currently all dolled up, pretty as ever by his side, with a fancy white dress with black buttons that matched his white shirt and his black eyepatch. 'Patch' is how they knew him here, one eye hidden beneath black cloth and his characteristic cowlicks slicked back. He was hidding his identity quite well.

You two were at one of the fancy casinos on the highlife streets, 'lady luck' they called it, and Logan was hoping he had enough of said luck to catch the target that frequented the place before midnight —you had a damn bedtime he was always going to stick to.

Seated at a poker table with some greedy men surrounding him, Logan had you seated prettyly on one of his legs. Holding his deck of cards with one hand while the other was firmly planted on your hip, so no dirty rich man got any 'brilliant' ideas.

Your young eyes were moving from place to place, admiring the fancy decorations in rich reds and golds. Looking at the pictures of famous people that had visited the place hanging from the walls, the gorgeous chandeliers and oogling the pretty dresses the women there wore. Logan thought it was cute how shy you got when one of those women caught your gaze and smiled your way, waving sweetly, but what wasn't cute was the way you were getting distracted. And not because of the mission at hand, but because he saw the lascivous glances sent your way —those perverted men made a low growl start to rumble in his chest.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart. Can't have you gettin' distracted here" he explained in a low tone, not even taking his eyes off of his deck —intending on at least winning the game if the target didn't show up in the end—.

"that's some serious arm candy you've got there, Patch" one of the men in the table spoke up, pushing a few more red coins on the table to to add up to his bet.

Logan growled, his hand suddenly tightening up on his hip, squeezing you to his side. "with all respect, I'm not a sex toy, mister" you huffed, frowning in disgust at the man.

Said man quirked an eyebrow at your 'attitude' before looking back at Logan, as if epecting him to scold or chastise you for speaking up. Still, he was only met by a grumble of Logan and a shoulder shrug.

"you heard the girl, she ain't no sex toy" he hummed, adding another few gambling coins to the pile in the middle of the table. "so stop tryin' to fuck her with yer eyes or I'm leaving you without 'em"

The man fell silent after that, probably a bit intimidated, while you just sat there kepon his leg and kept your eyes on his deck. You knew that if you were obedient and let him concentrate on winning this game he'd let you order as many sweets as you wanted from the hotel service. And you were really looking forward to those chocolate cookies.

___

WORST!LOGAN HOWLETT

You thought that the worst scent of all was the scent of blood. A sickeningly cloying and metallic smell that whafted into your nostrils and forced your mouth to taste of iron, so strong it was dizzying more often than not. But, lately, you've started to repulse the scent of whiskey much more.

You hated the way that alcoholic brevage clung to him. To every cell of his very being. To his breath, his skin, his clothes, everything smelled like whiskey. It wasn't a particularly unpleasant smell, but just like blood it was the thought of what came behind it, was it corpses and death or drunkeness and slurred speeches.

You both had managed to crash in an old appartment that used to belong to Cyclops before, well, his death. Except you weren't allowed to call it that, as long as you were in Logan's presence you had to talk about it —think about it— as 'the accident'. Who could've guessed he'd end up drunk out of his mind on Jean and Scott's old queen-sized bed.

He doesn't know how long he's been laying on that bed, drunk off his ass, he just knows he's sober and awake now —and without a hangover thanks to his metal bones. It's half past 4 in the morning, and he just sits there for a moment as he tries to make out what has woken him up. He waits for a few seconds before he hears the creacking of the wooden floor of the appartment coming from the kichen.

You. He doesn't know why he jolts out of bed, almost loosing his balance and falling face-first to the floor. You two are in an appartment in the city centre, you two are safe, but just the thought of you awake at half past four in the morning has something in him stirring and clawing at his insides.

"bub?" his voice is rougher than usual due to sleep, raw with the disorientaame with waking up so abruptly. "bub, s'that you?"

He blindly reachs for the doorknob to the small kitchen, pulling the door open to reveal you there. In the middle of the kitchen. Still in your pyjamas and looking as sleepy as he did and with a mug in your hands. He looks to the side slightly, spotting the bottle of milk on the counter and the opened door of the microwave. Oh, so that was what had woekn him up, the beeping of the stupid microwave.

You stood there, like a deer in highlights, with your mug of warm milk in your hands. You weren't about to admit to him that you were still childish enough to believe a warm glass of milk would send you to bed after a nightmare.

"what-?" he started, rubbing a hand over his face. "what're you doing? it's fucking 4:30 a.m, bub" he groaned tiredly—pretty much using the doorknob as support for his sleepy body.

"I-" you breathed out, voice groggy with interrumpted sleep. "-wanted a glass of milk" you mumbled, cringing at how childish you sounded.

His gaze seemed to both soften up and clear up at your words, and he found himself walking past the fog of sleep that his worn out brain was still trapped in, to join your side and close the microwave's door gently.

"nightmare?"

"yeah.."

"you want a hug or something?" he suggested, not really knowing what to do.

"yeah.."

And with that, one big arm was drapped over your shoulders —a bit awkwardly but still— while you sipped on your warm milk. His free hand reaching up for the liquor cabinet, yet stopping when he caught the way you looked at him. He sighed at that, redirecting his hand's trayectory to the cabinet next to where the alcohol was kept, and grabbing a bag of instant coffee.

Yes, you hated the smell of blood. And yes, you hated the smell of whiskey even more. But you could get used to the smell of cold winter nights shared over a glass of warm milk and a cup of coffee.

[hxneyfarm]

got the idea in my head of the party clocking the steddie tension and bullying eddie about it so this happened | 1.7k | rating: g or t, depending on how you feel about swearing

“I’m gonna need you two to either quit that or get your shit together and make out already.”

Eddie drags his eyes away from the door at the top of the basement stairs that Steve’s just closed on his way out to pick up Max and El, back to the task at hand, the table in front of him, his lost little sheep taking their places around the table in the Wheelers’ basement. It's Erica that spoke up, her eyebrow raised in a condescending kind of way that Eddie’s not sure if she learned from her mother or from Steve.

“Hey, watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he chastises, a little belatedly, a lot unnecessarily, and very obviously a deflection from the meat and potatoes of what she said.

It’s not just little Sinclair watching Eddie anymore; they’re all peering expectantly at him like they’re waiting for an explanation. Well, they’re not gonna get it. This little dance that he and Steve are doing - if it’s even a dance at all - is nobody’s business but their own. 

It’s been months now and it’s driving Eddie out of his goddamned mind but it’s not like he’s going to talk to the fucking kids about it. Jeff and Grant have been pretty receptive about the whole thing and Eddie’s talked both their ears off to the point of annoyance. Gareth won’t even give him the time of day anymore when Eddie starts in on talking about Steve.

It’s just that he and Steve have had this little back and forth going for a few months now, where they’ll flirt and Eddie will just start to think that maybe’s he’s got a shot and then Steve will back away. And then they’ll go a few days without talking and they’ll be back at it with a vengeance, picking on each other and making suggestive comments and very intentionally checking one another out.

But then Eddie’ll see Steve laying that same charm onto every girl that walks into the video store and snap back to himself. The mixed signals make him want to scream a little bit. One minute he’s psyching himself up to ask Steve to come back to his after work, maybe watch a stupid movie and make out on the couch, but then he reminds himself that he’s fucking delusional and Steve is just like that. He’s a flirt, and the way he flirts with Eddie doesn’t mean anything.

But the kids are still watching him, still waiting for an explanation about the way he and Steve were just gazing at each other as Steve climbed the stairs to leave, and so Eddie sighs.

“It’s nothing, okay?”

“Right,” says Henderson with a roll of his eyes and a shrug of his shoulders. “Which is why you two can’t stop making those lovesick faces at each other and flirting with each other, and why neither of you can ever shut up about each other.”

“Steve talks about me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Mike mutters. He’s tipping his chair back, balancing it on two legs. It’d be so easy for Eddie to just… tap it with his foot, send little Wheeler to the floor.

“Anyway!” Eddie says again, clapping his hands together. “It doesn’t matter! It’s nothing! Stevie’s just… like that. Y’know? With everybody. Let’s get to work, we’ve got a campaign to get through, no reason for us to be wasting time talking about Steve Harrington. Right?”

“Wait,” Will cuts in. His smile is a little mischievous, a little mean, and suddenly Eddie doesn’t remember why he likes the littlest Byers as much as he does. “You think Steve acts the way he does with you, with everybody?”

“Yeah. We’re friends. He’s… flirtatious. It’s not a thing, y’know? It’s just. A thing.”

“So you really think he willingly stuffs four teenagers in his car every Friday night to drop us off here, and then goes back out to pick up two more teenagers to bring them out here because…? Friends?” Lucas is looking at Eddie like he thinks he might be ready to grow another head.

Okay. Fuck. So they’re actually talking about this. Eddie and a bunch of snotty little kids are about to talk about his fucking crush on their babysitter. Jesus Christ.

“Listen. We are not discussing this.”

Will ignores him. “If you like him, ask him out.”

“And ruin a perfectly good friendship, baby Byers? I think I’ll pass. Besides, him and Nance…”

“Are long over,” Will insists, leaning forward and putting his arms on the table. “She’s still going out with my brother.”

“Like I said,” Erica cuts in again, “I need you two to suck face already or cut it out. We might be kids but we aren’t blind.”

“Please, he doesn’t even like me like that.”

“Are you kidding?” Dustin again. It’s like a game of round robin, each kid around the table lobbing questions and insistences at him in turn. “How can you say that, Eddie? The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you. He spends his Fridays here, in his ex-girlfriend's basement, to spend time with you. Don’t you see the way he watches you?”

“He just… I tell a good story.”

Mike lets loose a scoff and a sigh that could very well shake the foundations of the house around them. “I don’t even like Steve, but yeah. He treats you different. Special.”

“I already told you - he flirts with everybody. He’s a flirt! That doesn’t mean that it means something.”

“Who else does he call baby?” Lucas asks him, deadpan.

“He has pet names for everybody.”

“No he doesn’t. Who else is he going around touching all the time?”

“Robin, who he does have a pet name for. He calls her Bird.”

“Because you started calling her Bird. He picked that up from you,” Dustin argues. “And yes, he talks about you. He asks about you when he hasn’t seen you in a few days. He mentions stuff you said. He had an Ozzy tape playing in his car today and when I asked about it, y’know what he said?”

“‘Eddie gave it to me,’” Will supplies with a smile. “And he was smiling when he said it. That weird smile he gets sometimes. You know the one.”

“The Eddie smile.”

Eddie’s mouth is dry. His head is swimming a little bit. His heart races. There’s blood pounding in his ears as he thinks about Steve listening to The Ultimate Sin in his car even when Eddie’s not around to tell him about the production of the album or explain the intricacies of the instrumentals. He listens to it because he enjoys the music Eddie’s shown him. He talks about Eddie to the kids, asks about him.

Eddie exists to Steve outside of the weekly campaigns at the Wheelers’.

Doesn’t mean Steve likes Eddie the way Eddie likes him, though. Eddie can’t let himself dwell too much on the possibilities of what that could mean. He’s been crushing for months now. It’s almost winter in Hawkins, and Steve’s started coming around to campaigns more and more often the closer to the holidays it gets; Eddie figured it’s because Nancy will be coming home for Christmas soon - she was just here for Thanksgiving and Steve spent most of that Friday upstairs with her instead of in the basement with Eddie and the kids. So Eddie just kind of figured they were reconciling… 

He’d moped about it after he went home, certain that he’d never have a chance with Steve in spite of his very big, very obvious crush on him.

The thing is, Eddie’s never been all that subtle in his affections. He’s a tactile guy as it is, but with Steve it’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself at all. He finds himself reaching out whenever they’re together, a moon orbiting a planet, and Steve is all too willing to be the gravitational pull that draws Eddie close.

But that doesn’t mean he likes Eddie.

Which is what he says to the kids. They’re still looking at him, waiting for his response.

“You are so blind, God,” Mike groans, covering his face. “We can all see the way he feels about you, and you’re so gaga for him it’s a fucking miracle he hasn’t asked you out himself. Jesus, we are all so sick of this shit.”

“Language, Wheeler.”

“Stop deflecting, Munson. If you don’t say something when he gets back here, I’m gonna tell him for you. We’re all fucking tired of this!”

“I don’t wanna hear it from you, of all people!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t know then I’m not gonna tell you. Dumbass teenagers.”

There’s a flurry of footfalls above them, and then the basement door opens to reveal El and Max coming slowly down the stairs with Steve following close behind.

“Tense down here,” Steve smiles. “What’d we just walk in on?”

Panic rises in Eddie as Mike pins him with an evil smile and starts to open his mouth to spill the beans.

“Good news first or bad news first?” Eddie blurts out, holding out a hand towards Mike to shut him up.

“Uh oh,” Steve says. He pauses on the bottom step as the girls hover near the table. Steve’s eyebrows draw together, a little confused and a little concerned, and Eddie’s overcome with the urge to reach out and touch him. “Bad news first, always.”

“We were arguing about you.”

“And the good news?”

“Good news for you, either way. You have the option to prove them all wrong or severely gross them out.”

That crease between Steve’s eyebrows deepens. “What are you talking about?”

Well. Here goes nothing.

“The kids are all convinced you’re into me the same way I’m into you but I told ‘em that’s ridiculous. So you can tell ‘em they’re all idiots or you can come over here and kiss me, make ‘em all wanna wash their eyes out with bleach.”

Steve’s smile is slow to spread, but spread it does. It starts as a twitch in the corner of his mouth and his face softens. That twitch goes a little lopsided, one side of his mouth tipping up into an uncertain smile before it bleeds over onto the rest of his mouth, and he’s grinning. 

The Eddie smile.

It takes him no time at all to cross from the stairs to where Eddie sits at the head of the table and he drags Eddie up out of his seat.

“Guess we better get some bleach ready, then, baby,” Steve says.

And then he kisses him.

because you both asked to be tagged literally anytime i write something: @steves-strapcollection and @patchworkgargoyle - here, i wrote something

[metalomagnetic]

Any chance you can share an excerpt of the Harry/Sirius fic you have planned? 🥺

“That’s teenage years for you, kid; you’re always angry.”

Harry frowns. “You think that’s all there is to it?”

“Sure. I was that way, too.”

“Was?” Harry asks, and he’s finally smiling. A tiny thing, frail, but it’s a smile. “Seems like you’re still going through your teenage years, then.”

“Cheeky bastard.” Sirius swats him over the head, playfully.

The frail smile turns into a grin. There’s a mischievous side to Harry, buried deep under the trauma, the burden of being the Boy Who Lived.

Harry reaches for the bottle again. “Gross,” he shudders, making a face after he swallows. “Does it get better? The taste?”

“Eventually,” Sirius says, opening a second bottle, now that he relinquished the first to Harry. “You get used to it.”

He got Regulus drunk in this very room some twenty years before.

His mother sighs in his head. She sounds resigned.

“How about those?” Harry nods at the pack of cigarettes Mundungus snuggled in for Sirius. “Will you teach me?”

“Not much to teach,” Sirius says, giving Harry a fag, taking one for himself.

He lights them with his wand and tells Harry to breathe the smoke in.

Predictably, he chokes.

“Being a bad boy isn’t easy, Harry,” Sirius mocks.

“It’s disgusting,” Harry wheezes, still choking, but when he calms he tries again, to the same result.

By the time he finishes, Harry grows even paler, says he’s a bit dizzy.

How innocent he is; how young. Sirius remembers the first time he smoked, that dizziness Harry speaks of.

He was thirteen, and life was good, even if it didn’t feel like it. Now he wishes he could go back to those times.

Would you abandon us again? If you could go back, would you still betray us? the voices demand.

“I’ll teach you to ride a bike,” Sirius promises. “Next summer. I’ll buy one. Miss riding, anyway.”

“Drinking, smoking, riding bikes, moping around in corners, being angry- what else is on the requirement list for being a bad boy?”

“I don’t mope around,” Sirius argues. “And never in corners. I brood in full view of everyone.”

Harry laughs. It might be the whiskey, but there’s some colour returning to his face. He almost looks alive.

He’ll die, eventually. Everyone around you dies, brother.

Regulus was always a spoilsport.

“Alright, alright. Brooding, then. What else?”

“Fucking,” Sirius says, just to embarrass him, and it works like a charm. Harry goes red, instantly. “Can’t be a bad boy if you don’t fuck around.”

Harry looks away. He runs his fingers through his hair again, making it stick out more than usual. It still doesn’t remind him of James.

When James did it, there was intention behind it. He liked his hair like that, and he knew some girls liked it, too.

When Harry does it, there’s nothing intentional about it. It screams of insecurity, something that wasn’t in James’ vocabulary.

“Well,” Harry says, so red he’s turning purple. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that, too.”

A warning rings in Sirius’ head.

Don’t poke at it, his mother advises him. Leave it be, Sirius.

Sirius never listened to her, so he won’t start now.

“You know girls that won’t mind your godfather joining you for a bit of fun?” Sirius teases. “Why, Harry, you’re already running with a bad crowd in that case.” Harry snorts, gulps more whiskey. “I barely know any girls at all,” he mumbles. “But I’m sure no girl would say no to you; it’s more likely they’ll protest to me, really.”

“First lesson,” Sirius says. “No self-depreciating jokes. No poor-me attitude. No one finds that attractive.”

“Well, that’s who I am,” Harry snaps, that temper of his rearing its head for a second.

“Even so, you hide that shit if you want to pull birds. Pretend you’re confident, even when you aren’t.”

“That’s wrong, though. Misleading someone, lying-”

“Bad boys lie all the time.”

Harry huffs. He slumps back into the couch. “Forget it. I can’t be a bad boy.”

“It’s not for everyone,” Sirius agrees. “Plus, if you want to be really bad, you’d need to do some prison time. Not worth it, I assure you.”

“Being locked up in a cupboard doesn’t count?” Harry asks. “Did about ten years of that.”

[niallerspayno]

Game Night (Zayn Malik x reader) - Fic Request

Request for @cletumblsblog: Hello, i hope you’re doing well !! Can i send a request about zayn please? We don’t have a lot of imagines about him! Whatever plot just i’d like it if the reader is a part of one direction like as a sixth member? Thank you very much!!

Masterlist

There’s a certain rhythm to your life now, one that’s hard to explain to people who don’t live it. Fame is loud and fast, and you’ve learned to keep up with it because you don’t have a choice. But when you look back, it’s hard to believe how far you’ve come—from a hopeful teenager auditioning on The X Factor to a member of one of the biggest bands in the world.

You remember the moment you first met the boys—five strangers, all nervous energy and tentative smiles, thrown together in a competition none of you really understood yet. The producers thought adding a girl to the group would give you all an edge, and somehow, it worked. What started as an experiment became something unshakable, and now, the six of you are a family.

You’ve grown up together in the truest sense. Louis is your mischief partner, always ready with a joke or a ridiculous scheme to make you laugh. Harry is the one you go to when you need to talk, his calm energy balancing your occasional chaos. Niall’s warmth and easygoing nature feel like home, and Liam’s steady presence and kindness keeps you grounded.

And then there’s Zayn.

From the start, he’s been different. Quiet where the others are loud, reserved in a way that makes you want to understand him more. With Zayn, there’s a comfort you can’t explain—a feeling like he sees you, the real you, in a way no one else does. It’s why you’ve always been closest to him, why your bond feels so unshakable.

The boys have noticed, of course. They tease you both relentlessly, but it’s never mean-spirited. If anything, they seem to enjoy the way you and Zayn gravitate toward each other, the way your connection feels like something rare and unspoken.

It’s a connection you’re still figuring out yourself.

...

Louis’ text comes in the middle of a rare free afternoon.

“Game night at mine. Bring snacks or don’t bother coming. xx”

You laugh, shaking your head at his usual theatrics before sending a quick thumbs-up emoji in reply. Game nights with the boys are the closest thing you have to a “normal” life—just six friends laughing, arguing over board games, and eating way too much junk food. You’ve missed it, missed them.

The air outside Louis’ flat is crisp, the kind of early evening chill that makes you glad you grabbed your oversized hoodie before heading out. Balancing a tray of brownies and a bag of crisps in one hand, you press the doorbell with your free one, hearing the familiar chime echo inside.

It doesn’t take long for the door to swing open, revealing Louis with a wide grin plastered across his face. “There she is!” he announces, stepping aside and ushering you in with a dramatic flourish.

“Don’t start,” you say with a laugh, slipping past him into the warmth of the flat. The scent of something slightly burnt and far too much cologne hits you immediately, a mix that is uniquely Louis.

“What’s this?” he asks, grabbing at the tray in your hands like it’s treasure.

“Brownies,” you reply, tugging them away from his reach. “But if you keep being greedy, I’m keeping them for myself.”

“Rude,” he says, clutching his chest in mock offense before grinning again. “Alright, come on, everyone’s here already. You’re late.”

“I’m not late,” you argue, kicking off your shoes and setting the brownies on the kitchen counter. “You just like to exaggerate.”

He doesn’t deny it, instead grabbing your bag of crisps and tearing it open as you follow him into the living room.

The chaos is immediate. Harry is sprawled across one end of the couch, lazily flipping through his phone while Niall and Liam are deep in a heated debate over which board game to play first. The coffee table is already overloaded with snacks—half-empty bowls of popcorn, a packet of biscuits, and an open bag of gummy bears that Niall is clearly hoarding.

“Finally!” Niall exclaims when he sees you. “I’ve been starving waiting for you to get here.”

“You’ve been eating the whole time,” Liam points out, rolling his eyes.

“Doesn’t count if it’s not the main snacks,” Niall retorts, gesturing dramatically at your tray of brownies.

“Alright, alright,” you say, laughing as you set the tray down on the table. “I’m here now. What are we playing?”

“Monopoly,” Liam says at the same time Niall shouts, “Pictionary!”

Harry snorts, tossing his phone onto the armrest. “This is why we never start on time.”

“You’re not helping,” Liam points out, but Harry just grins and stretches out further on the couch.

...

You’re just settling into the rhythm of the evening—listening to Liam try and fail to organize everyone—when the doorbell rings again.

“Someone else is late for once!” Louis calls out, jumping up from his seat and disappearing toward the door.

Your brow furrows slightly. You hadn’t realized anyone else was coming. Maybe one of Louis’ friends from outside the group? It’s not uncommon for him to invite a plus-one to these things.

A few seconds later, you hear Louis’ voice, followed by a familiar low laugh that sends your stomach flipping.

Zayn.

He steps into the living room a moment later, his leather jacket slung casually over one shoulder and a takeaway bag in his hand. His hair is slightly tousled, like he’s run his hands through it a few times on the way over, and he’s wearing one of his signature oversized shirts that somehow makes him look effortlessly cool.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Louis says, smirking as he grabs the bag out of Zayn’s hand.

“Nice to see you too, mate,” Zayn replies, rolling his eyes good-naturedly before his gaze flicks across the room. It lands on you, and his expression softens immediately.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and warm.

You can feel the boys’ eyes on you as you smile back. “Hey.”

For a moment, it feels like the rest of the room disappears, leaving just the two of you standing there, caught in an unspoken moment. But then Harry clears his throat loudly, breaking the spell.

“Alright, lover boy, stop hogging the door and sit down,” he says, grinning at you both.

Zayn chuckles, shaking his head as he moves to take the empty spot beside you on the couch. The room shifts slightly as he settles in, his knee brushing against yours under the table. It’s subtle, but it sends a jolt through you all the same.

“You’re late,” you tease, glancing at him.

“Fashionably,” he replies, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Louis reappears with a handful of plates, tossing one in your direction. “Alright, enough flirting. Let’s eat and then play. I’m not losing to you lot on an empty stomach.”

The room bursts into laughter, and just like that, the moment passes. But as Zayn leans back against the couch, his arm brushing yours, you can’t help but feel like tonight might be different.

...

Plates clatter as the remnants of takeaway are cleared from the coffee table, replaced with a pile of game boxes. Louis is already rifling through them, loudly declaring himself “Game Master” while Harry lounges on the armrest of the couch, nibbling on the last slice of garlic bread.

“Right, lads—and lass,” Louis says with a wink in your direction. “We’re starting with Uno because it’s the only game that guarantees drama.”

“Drama?” Niall says, popping a gummy bear into his mouth. “More like guarantees me winning.”

“You wish,” Liam retorts, rolling his eyes as he begins shuffling the deck with the precision of someone who takes game night far too seriously.

You laugh, leaning back against the couch as you watch them bicker. It’s always like this—friendly banter, exaggerated threats of sabotage, and a level of competitiveness that would put most athletes to shame.

Beside you, Zayn chuckles softly, the sound low enough that only you can hear. “Think they realize it’s just a card game?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, smirking. “They’ve been like this since day one.”

He leans slightly closer, his shoulder brushing yours. “You any good at Uno?”

“I can hold my own,” you say, feigning confidence. “Why? Worried I’ll beat you?”

“Never,” he says, his smirk widening.

Before you can respond, Louis claps his hands loudly. “Alright, everyone shut up and pay attention! Rules are simple: no cheating, no crying, and no throwing cards at each other. Looking at you, Niall.”

“That was one time,” Niall mutters, earning a round of laughter from the group.

The first few rounds are surprisingly calm—at least by your standards. Niall plays his cards quickly and confidently, grinning like he’s already won, while Liam meticulously plans every move. Harry alternates between playing properly and trying to make everyone laugh, at one point using his draw pile to construct a tiny house of cards.

And then there’s Louis, whose strategy seems to revolve entirely around causing as much chaos as possible.

“You can’t do that!” Liam exclaims as Louis throws down a wild card and gleefully changes the color to one he knows Liam doesn’t have.

“Sure I can,” Louis replies, leaning back smugly. “Read the rules, mate.”

“You wrote the rules,” Liam says, glaring at him.

“Exactly,” Louis says, winking at you. “Which means I can’t be wrong.”

Zayn chuckles, sliding a green card onto the pile. “You’re gonna get yourself disqualified, you know.”

“Can’t disqualify the Game Master,” Louis says, sticking his tongue out.

The room dissolves into laughter again, and you shake your head as you draw your next card. But as the game continues, you notice Zayn’s attention drifting back to you more often than the cards in his hand.

“Your turn,” he murmurs, nudging your arm lightly.

“Right,” you say, focusing on the pile. You manage to play a reverse card, sending the turn back to Zayn, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Nice move,” he says, his tone laced with challenge.

“Thanks,” you reply, biting back a smile. “Try to keep up.”

The subtle back-and-forth doesn’t go unnoticed. Niall points at you both with a gummy bear, his grin mischievous. “Oi, are you two playing Uno or having some private little game over there?”

“Jealous?” Zayn shoots back smoothly, earning a chorus of “oohs” from the rest of the group.

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “He’s just mad because he’s losing,” you say, nodding toward Niall’s growing draw pile.

“She’s got you there,” Harry says, smirking as he skips Niall’s turn entirely.

By the time the final round starts, the room is in full chaos. Liam is meticulously tracking which cards have been played, Niall is accusing Louis of stacking the deck, and Harry is too busy laughing at his own bad luck to care about winning.

You and Zayn, meanwhile, are locked in a quiet battle.

He smirks as he plays another draw two card, forcing you to pick up more. “You alright there?”

“Perfect,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. You manage to play a wild card on your next turn, changing the color to red—the one you know he doesn’t have.

“Bold move,” he says, his gaze flicking to yours.

“Just trying to keep it interesting,” you reply, holding his gaze a beat longer than necessary.

The moment feels charged, like a silent dare neither of you is willing to back down from. But before anything more can happen, Louis slams his final card down with a triumphant shout.

“Uno!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air.

“What?” Liam says, looking genuinely distressed. “How did you—”

“I’m a genius, that’s how,” Louis declares, standing up and bowing dramatically.

The room erupts into laughter and groans, with Niall declaring a rematch and Harry muttering something about sabotage.

You glance at Zayn, who’s watching you with a small smile. “Next time,” he says softly.

“Next time,” you agree, already looking forward to it.

...

The coffee table is cleared once again, now replaced with a giant pad of paper, markers, and a small sand timer that Niall is inspecting with great suspicion.

“Right,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “Team time!”

“We’re calling it now,” Harry declares, slinging an arm around Louis’ shoulders. “The power duo of Harry and Louis is unbeatable.”

“Power duo?” Liam says, raising an eyebrow. “You two can’t even agree on pizza toppings.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Louis says confidently. “It’s about vibes, not strategy.”

Niall leans back against the couch, already snacking on another bag of crisps. “Fine. Liam and I are the brains of this operation, then. Prepare to lose.”

You glance around the room, realizing the only person left is Zayn, who’s already watching you with a small, knowing smile.

“Guess that makes us a team,” you say, trying to sound casual even though your heart skips a beat.

“Looks like it,” he replies, leaning back in his seat with a relaxed confidence that makes your stomach flutter.

“Alright,” Louis says, grabbing the pad of paper and tossing it to Liam. “You lot can start. Let’s see what the ‘brains’ can do.”

Liam sets the pad on the table, holding the marker like it’s a weapon. “I’ve got this,” he says confidently, glancing at the card he pulled.

“Timer starts...now!” Louis declares, flipping the sand timer.

Liam begins drawing furiously—lines, circles, and what might be a triangle—while Niall leans forward, squinting at the paper.

“Uh...a house?” Niall guesses. “No, wait, a dog? A cat?”

Liam groans. “No, no, no. It’s obvious! Look at the details!”

“What details?” Niall shoots back, gesturing wildly at the chaotic scribbles. “It looks like a potato with legs!”

“It’s a giraffe!” Liam says, throwing the marker down in exasperation.

“Where’s the neck?” Niall demands, pointing at the stubby figure on the page.

“Time’s up!” Louis announces gleefully, flipping the timer and cackling as Liam buries his face in his hands.

Harry grabs the marker next, glancing at his card before grinning mischievously. “Oh, this is going to be easy,” he says, bending over the pad.

Louis watches intently as Harry starts drawing what can only be described as abstract art.

“A rocket?” Louis guesses.

“Nope,” Harry replies, adding more squiggly lines.

“A fish? A boat? A...banana?”

“It’s obvious!” Harry exclaims, adding yet another wavy line.

Louis throws his hands up. “Mate, I’ve got nothing. It looks like a soggy spoon.”

The timer runs out, and Harry holds up the pad triumphantly. “It’s a roller coaster!”

“That is not a roller coaster,” Louis says, pointing accusingly at the paper.

“Yes, it is! Look, there are the tracks, and those are the people screaming—”

“They’re dots, Harry!”

The room erupts into laughter again, with Niall nearly choking on his crisps and Liam shaking his head in disbelief.

It’s your turn, and you grab the marker, glancing at the card before showing it to Zayn. He nods, leaning forward slightly as you set the pad on the table.

“Alright,” you say, rolling up your sleeves. “Ready?”

“Always,” Zayn replies, his tone soft but confident.

The timer flips, and you immediately start sketching—a few quick lines that form a recognizable shape.

“Tree,” Zayn says instantly.

You nod, adding a few more details.

“Christmas tree.”

“Yes!” you say, grinning as you move on to the next card.

The timer continues, and the two of you fall into an easy rhythm. You draw a circle, and Zayn guesses “sun” before you’ve even added the rays. He gestures for you to keep going, the two of you passing ideas back and forth with an almost telepathic understanding.

“Boat.”

“Candle.”

“Elephant.”

“Bingo,” you say, tossing the marker down just as the timer runs out.

The room is silent for a moment before Niall groans dramatically. “How are you two so good at this?”

“Practice,” Zayn says, smirking as he leans back against the couch.

“Cheating, more like,” Louis mutters, though his grin gives him away.

“You’re just mad because Harry can’t draw,” you tease, earning a laugh from Zayn.

“I can draw,” Harry protests. “You just don’t appreciate my style.”

“Yeah, mate,” Niall chimes in, gesturing at the 'roller coaster' still sitting on the table. “Very avant-garde.”

The laughter continues, but you barely notice as Zayn nudges your arm lightly.

“Good team,” he says quietly, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Best team,” you reply, glancing at him with a small smile.

For a moment, it feels like the chaos of the room fades, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble. And when Zayn’s gaze lingers on yours, warm and unspoken, you can’t help but wonder if everyone else notices the shift in the air.

...

The pile of abandoned board games sits in the corner of Louis’ flat, a testament to the group's short attention span. The night has been filled with laughter and playful arguments, but the energy has shifted—restless, buzzing with a sense of anticipation.

“I’m bored,” Louis announces dramatically, sprawling across the floor like a starfish. “We need something with more spice.”

“More spice than Niall eating three jalapeños at once?” Harry teases, smirking as Niall groans in protest.

“Yes,” Louis declares, sitting up abruptly. “We need Truth or Dare.”

“Oh no,” Liam mutters, shaking his head.

“Oh yes,” Louis counters, his grin wicked. “Come on, Payno. Don’t be a coward.”

The group exchanges glances, and one by one, the reluctant smiles and nods signal agreement.

The rules are simple: no skipping a turn, and if you fail a dare or lie during a truth, you face a penalty—usually an unspeakable concoction from Louis’ fridge.

Louis spins the bottle first, and it lands on Harry.

“Truth or dare, Styles?” Louis asks, his voice dripping with mock seriousness.

“Dare,” Harry says confidently, leaning back with an easy grin.

“I dare you to… serenade your left shoe like it’s your one true love.”

The group bursts into laughter as Harry immediately grabs his shoe and launches into an absurdly romantic rendition of What Makes You Beautiful, complete with heartfelt gazes and dramatic hand gestures.

“Beautiful,” Niall says, wiping away fake tears. “Truly moving.”

The bottle spins again, landing on Liam.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, already smirking.

“Truth,” Liam says cautiously.

“Coward,” Louis mutters under his breath before asking, “Alright, who’s your least favorite member of the band?”

The room erupts into laughter as Liam’s eyes widen.

“I’m not answering that!” Liam protests, but the rules are the rules.

“Penalty!” Louis shouts, jumping up to raid the fridge. A few minutes later, Liam is grimacing as he chugs a concoction that looks—and smells—like regret.

The dares and truths grow bolder with each round. Niall is dared to wear a pair of Louis’ socks on his hands for the next three turns, and Harry is forced to text a random selfie to Simon Cowell with no context.

Then, the bottle spins and lands on you.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, his tone playful but dangerous.

“Truth,” you say, playing it safe.

“Alright,” Louis says, tapping his chin in thought. “Who in this room would you say is your biggest crush?”

The laughter dies down instantly, replaced by an awkward but charged silence. Every set of eyes is on you, and your pulse spikes.

“I, uh…” you stammer, glancing around the room. Your gaze briefly meets Zayn’s, and his expression is unreadable, though his jaw seems slightly tense.

“Come on, spill it!” Niall says, grinning.

“I don’t think I have a crush on anyone here,” you say finally, forcing a laugh.

“Liar!” Harry declares, laughing as the others join in.

“Penalty!” Louis shouts gleefully, but before he can raid the fridge, Zayn spins the bottle, redirecting the attention.

It lands on him.

“Truth or dare, mate?” Niall asks, clearly eager to see what Zayn will pick.

Zayn leans back, his dark eyes flicking to you briefly before answering, “Truth.”

Niall doesn’t miss a beat. “Do you fancy anyone in this room?”

The tension ratchets up instantly, the laughter dissolving into a stunned silence. Zayn’s expression doesn’t falter as he shrugs casually. “Maybe.”

The group erupts into whoops and laughter, but your heart is pounding too loudly to join in. You glance at him, but he’s already spinning the bottle again, avoiding your gaze.

he game reaches a fever pitch when the bottle lands on you again.

“Truth or dare?” Louis asks, his grin mischievous.

“Dare,” you say, trying to maintain your composure.

“Perfect,” Louis says, clapping his hands together. “I dare you to kiss…” He pauses dramatically, his gaze scanning the room before landing on Niall. “Horan!”

Niall bursts out laughing. “Why am I always the guinea pig?”

You groan, but a dare is a dare. You lean toward Niall, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as the group cheers and hollers.

“That was weak!” Harry teases, throwing a pillow at you.

“Not my fault you all love dramatics,” you quip back, though your cheeks burn when you notice Zayn watching you, his jaw tight and his hands gripping his knees.

The bottle spins again, this time landing on Louis.

“Truth or dare?” Harry asks.

“Dare, obviously,” Louis says.

Harry smirks. “I dare you to make this game even more interesting. Pick the person most likely to cause chaos if they had to sit in someone else’s lap for the rest of the game.”

Louis doesn’t hesitate. “That’s easy. You,” he says, pointing at you, “are going to sit in Zayn’s lap for the rest of the night.”

Your stomach flips, and the room explodes with laughter and cheers.

“I hate you all,” you mutter, but you rise to your feet.

Zayn doesn’t say anything as you settle onto his lap, his hands automatically move to your hips to steady you.

“Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only you can hear.

“Not even a little,” you reply, though your racing heart betrays you.

“Good,” he says softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds, “neither am I.”

The group’s teasing fades into the background as you sit there, hyperaware of every shift of his body against yours.

The game presses on, though your focus is barely on it. Sitting in Zayn’s lap has set your senses alight, and the casual banter and dares thrown around the room feel like a distant hum. His hands rest lightly on your hips, unmoving yet grounding, as if he’s careful not to cross a line.

You try not to think about how solid he feels beneath you or how his warmth radiates through your clothes, but it’s impossible to ignore the steady rhythm of his breathing against your back.

“Alright, who’s next?” Louis demands, spinning the bottle with reckless enthusiasm.

It lands on Harry, who smirks knowingly.

“Truth or dare?” Liam asks, already anticipating chaos.

“Dare,” Harry replies, lounging back dramatically.

“I dare you to…” Liam pauses, tapping his chin. “Post the worst photo of yourself from your camera roll to Instagram. No explanation allowed.”

The room explodes with laughter as Harry groans. “You’re evil,” he mutters, pulling out his phone.

“Come on, Haz, let’s see it!” Niall goads, leaning over to catch a glimpse.

Harry eventually finds a hideously unflattering selfie, complete with a double chin and poorly timed mid-blink. He uploads it with a grimace, and the group cheers as they refresh their feeds to confirm he went through with it.

As the bottle spins again, you shift slightly in Zayn’s lap, trying to find a more comfortable position. His hands tighten instinctively for a moment, steadying you, and the small action sends a jolt of heat through you.

“Sorry,” you whisper, glancing over your shoulder.

His dark eyes meet yours, and for a second, the noise of the room fades away. “You’re fine,” he murmurs, his voice low and smooth.

The bottle lands on Niall this time, and the group quickly concocts another embarrassing dare involving a call to a takeaway restaurant, where he’s forced to serenade the person who answers.

You laugh along with the others, but your awareness of Zayn doesn’t waver. Every subtle shift, every brush of his fingers against your sides—it all feels deliberate, though you’re sure he’s as aware of the tension as you are.

“You alright back there?” Harry teases, his eyes flicking between you and Zayn.

“I’m fine,” you reply quickly, though your voice is higher than usual.

Zayn doesn’t respond, but the ghost of a smirk tugs at his lips as Harry spins the bottle again.

The next few rounds blur together in a mix of escalating dares and shameless truths. Niall is dared to eat a concoction of peanut butter and ketchup (which he does with minimal complaint), and Liam is forced to admit which of your songs he secretly likes more than the others.

When the bottle inevitably lands on you again, Louis perks up immediately.

“Truth or dare, love?” he asks, his grin all teeth.

“Dare,” you say, bracing yourself.

“Good choice,” Louis says, clapping his hands. “I dare you to…” He glances at Zayn for a split second, his grin widening. “...whisper something to Zayn that no one else in this room is allowed to hear.”

The group groans collectively, a mix of teasing and exasperation, but you feel the room’s energy shift again.

“Oh, come on, Louis,” Niall complains, though he’s clearly enjoying the show.

“Rules are rules,” Louis replies, feigning innocence.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart racing as you glance back at Zayn. His eyes are on you, steady and curious.

“Go on, then,” he says, his voice soft but laced with something you can’t quite place.

Taking a breath, you lean in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “I think Louis is trying to get me killed,” you whisper, half-joking but entirely too aware of how close you are.

Zayn’s low chuckle vibrates through you, and when you pull back, his smile is more genuine than it’s been all night. “Wouldn’t let him,” he says simply, the weight of his words lingering.

The game continues, but the air between you and Zayn is different now—heavier, more charged. The others are oblivious, too busy laughing and shouting dares to notice how his hands rest more firmly on your waist now, how his fingers occasionally graze your sides as if testing the waters.

When the bottle spins and lands on Zayn, the group perks up.

“Truth or dare?” Harry asks, already grinning.

“Dare,” Zayn says easily, his tone steady.

“I dare you to… tell the truth about something,” Harry says, clearly trying to be clever.

“That’s not how dares work!” Niall protests, but Harry waves him off.

“It’s fine,” Zayn says, his gaze flicking to you briefly before he continues. “Alright. Truth about what?”

Harry thinks for a moment, then smirks. “Fine. Truth: Who in this room would you kiss right now if you could?”

The room explodes into chaos again, everyone shouting and hollering.

“Pick wisely!” Louis teases, though his eyes dart between you and Zayn with too much amusement.

Zayn doesn’t hesitate, his voice calm and steady as he answers, “Her.”

The room falls silent, and you feel every pair of eyes on you. Your cheeks burn as you meet Zayn’s gaze, his expression unflinching.

“Well, damn,” Harry mutters, breaking the tension with a laugh.

“Guess we know who’s playing favourites,” Louis quips, though his grin is wide.

The game continues, but it's clear that everything has shifted. Every moment feels like it's suspended in the air, charged with a quiet intensity that makes it hard to focus on anything but Zayn. His hands never fully leave your waist, the weight of his touch lingering even when the room is filled with laughter and shouting. You try to ignore it, but every time he moves, his fingers graze your skin, sending a jolt of heat through you.

The group, as always, is oblivious—too busy egging each other on to notice the subtle shift in the dynamic. But Zayn and you? You both feel it.

Niall is laughing loudly at something Louis just said, but his eyes flick to you and Zayn every few seconds. Harry’s not much better, leaning in to whisper something to Liam while occasionally glancing between the two of you with that knowing smirk. Even Liam, usually the most serious of the group, seems oddly preoccupied, his gaze lingering on you and Zayn as if waiting for something to break.

You try to focus on the game, but it's difficult when every time you laugh, Zayn’s gaze holds yours a little longer, his lips curving into that small, knowing smile. When he speaks, it’s always just a little too close, his breath brushing against the back of your neck.

"Your turn," he says softly, nudging you lightly with his knee as the bottle spins to land on you again.

You blink, suddenly realizing everyone’s eyes are on you. "Right," you say, clearing your throat and forcing your voice to stay steady. “Truth or dare?”

You throw the question out almost absentmindedly, not quite able to look him in the eye, but Zayn doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles, that infuriatingly attractive, cocky smile that makes your heart stutter in your chest.

"Dare," he says with a calm confidence that only makes the tension rise further.

You take a deep breath. "I dare you to… kiss the person closest to you."

The room goes deathly silent. The group stares at you with wide eyes, and even Zayn seems taken aback for a split second.

You feel your pulse quicken, but you try to keep your expression neutral. Everyone knows what’s happening here. This is the dare that will either shatter the tension or make it unbearable. You’ve just forced him into the ultimate move—or the ultimate escape.

Zayn shifts, his eyes glancing between you and the others, but his hand never leaves your waist. Slowly, he leans forward, and his breath skims the back of your neck. You can feel his lips against your skin as he leans in, his movements slow, deliberate.

You can’t breathe.

And then, just when you think he’s going to do it—kiss you—he pulls back.

The room collectively exhales, and you feel a strange sense of relief mixed with disappointment that you can’t explain. Zayn’s eyes never leave yours as he sits back, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Guess that’s not what you meant, is it?" he murmurs, voice hushed but teasing.

The others are grinning, trying to suppress laughter, but the atmosphere is still thick, charged with unspoken words. You force a laugh, though it feels tight in your chest.

"Guess not," you reply, trying to make the moment feel less heavy than it is.

But Zayn’s gaze remains steady, and you swear you can feel the weight of his stare even as the group moves on.

The next few rounds are a blur, the group cycling through dares and truths like clockwork, but the tension never quite dissipates. Niall and Louis are daring each other to do ridiculous things, but their laughter doesn’t quite reach you. You’re aware of every shift in Zayn’s body beneath you, the steady beat of his heart that you can almost feel through the thin fabric of his shirt.

You’re both playing it cool, but neither of you is fooling anyone.

Louis, ever the instigator, finally decides it’s time to push the envelope.

“Alright, alright,” he says loudly, his voice filled with amusement. “Enough games. We all know the two of you have been circling each other for months. It’s time to get this out in the open.”

You freeze. The room goes deathly silent again, and your stomach drops.

“What do you mean?” Zayn asks, his voice a mix of disbelief and something else—something raw.

“Oh, come on, mate,” Louis says, gesturing between you and Zayn like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Everyone knows you two have been ridiculously obvious about it.”

The rest of the boys are grinning now, and you can feel Zayn’s eyes on you, but you can’t quite meet his gaze. Instead, you look at Louis, trying to muster some semblance of composure.

“Don’t you dare start, Louis,” you warn, but your voice comes out more breathless than you intended.

“Don’t try to act all innocent now,” Louis teases, his grin widening. “I see the way you two look at each other when no one’s looking. It’s been obvious since the first time you shared a bottle of tequila in Barcelona.”

You’re trying not to panic, but the words sting more than you’d expected. The others are still laughing, but Zayn’s expression remains unreadable. You can feel him shift beneath you, his body tense now, as if bracing for something.

“I think it’s time you two finally admit it,” Louis presses, his eyes flicking between you and Zayn. “Who’s going to say it first?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You know exactly what he’s trying to do—he’s pushing you to crack, to finally admit what everyone already knows.

But it’s harder than that.

You open your mouth to speak, but Zayn interrupts.

“I think it’s time you shut up, Tomlinson,” Zayn says, his voice sharper than it’s been all night. There’s an edge to it, something that makes everyone stop and look at him.

The room goes still, and for a second, everything hangs in the balance. Your heart races, and you realize that Zayn is staring at you now—really staring at you, like he’s trying to figure something out.

He’s not backing down, and neither are you. The challenge hangs in the air between you both, thicker than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Maybe I will,” Louis says, his grin faltering slightly. “But you two have to deal with the fallout.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. The game is forgotten, the laughter drowned out by the weight of unspoken words. And finally, it hits you—you can’t pretend anymore.

Not with him sitting so close. Not with everyone watching.

The air is thick with anticipation as Louis’ words hang in the room. The boys are all grinning, clearly enjoying the show, but there’s a nervous energy swirling between you and Zayn that refuses to let up.

You try to deflect, wanting to push the moment aside, but you can feel the heat of Zayn’s gaze like a physical touch. His eyes are locked on you, steady and intense, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to read you or if he’s just waiting for you to say something.

"Come on, Y/N," Niall teases, leaning forward. "You’ve gotta admit it’s pretty obvious."

Zayn shifts underneath you, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if he’s trying to anchor you both. You can feel his pulse beneath his skin, a soft thrum that matches your own, but you refuse to let yourself acknowledge the overwhelming need to close the distance between you.

"I think Zayn’s been giving us the silent treatment on purpose," Louis continues, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Trying to keep the mystery, eh?"

Zayn's lips curl up at the corners, but there’s no humor in it, only tension. His gaze flicks between you and Louis, and for a second, it feels like the whole room is holding its breath.

"Shut up, Louis," Zayn finally mutters, his voice deeper than before, more serious.

But Louis is relentless. “Oh, come on, mate, it’s obvious! We’re all practically begging for you two to finally admit what’s going on. I mean, it’s only a matter of time before—”

Before he can finish, Zayn moves, his hand sliding down to your hip and pulling you closer, just enough to make your breath catch. The action is so sudden, so deliberate, that you freeze, every nerve in your body awake to the heat and weight of him behind you.

“Enough,” Zayn says quietly, his voice a sharp contrast to the chaotic energy around you. He leans in close, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks just for you. “If you want me to admit something, Y/N… maybe it’s time you say it first.”

The words hang in the air, impossibly close, like a dare but also an invitation. Your heart races in your chest, the sound of it nearly deafening in the silence that follows.

You don’t know what to say at first, your mind racing to catch up with what’s just happened. You’re suddenly painfully aware of how close Zayn is, of the way his breath moves against your skin, of the feeling of his body beneath you. Your palms are clammy against your knees as you finally meet his gaze.

“What are you waiting for?” Zayn murmurs, his voice low and rough, his thumb tracing small circles on your side, the movement casual but deliberate.

You know he’s teasing, but there’s something else in his eyes—something vulnerable, something raw, like he’s finally ready for this to break, to get it out in the open. And God, do you want it too.

The room around you seems to vanish, the others’ teasing and joking falling away as you focus solely on Zayn. He’s no longer the same guy you’ve known for years—the one with the smirk and the quick jokes. He’s real now. Present. Vulnerable.

You feel yourself leaning in, barely noticing it, until your lips are dangerously close to his, so close that you can feel the heat between you. Your breath mingles with his, and you know that the teasing from the others has stopped, that this is no longer a game—it’s just you and Zayn.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you finally whisper, your words barely audible. “You know it’s not just me, right?”

He inhales sharply at your words, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second. “I’ve always known, Y/N,” he says quietly, his voice almost a rasp. “I didn’t want to complicate things. But I can’t keep pretending anymore.”

Your breath catches in your throat as the room feels smaller, the world narrowing until it’s just the two of you, finally laying it out in the open. The tension between you—years of unspoken words, shared glances, moments of near-confession—finally breaking.

“I think we’ve been complicating it for too long,” you murmur, finally meeting his eyes with the full weight of your feelings.

Zayn exhales slowly, his lips curving into a small, almost relieved smile. “So… this is it then?” he asks, his voice quiet but teasing.

You nod, the uncertainty finally giving way to a quiet confidence. “Yeah, this is it.”

For a moment, everything feels still—like you’re both suspended in time. And then, with no more words left to say, Zayn closes the small distance between you, his lips crashing into yours with a gentleness that somehow makes everything feel even more intense.

It’s not like the games, not like the teasing. It’s slow, deep, and long-overdue. The kiss is everything you’ve been holding back, every moment of shared tension now unspooled, leaving nothing but honesty in its wake.

When Zayn pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing a little faster now, your hands still tangled in the fabric of his shirt.

“I think this is going to make things a little less complicated,” Zayn says, his voice soft, his smile crooked but genuine.

You laugh softly, unable to help yourself. “Yeah. I think it will.”.

But just as the weight of your confession settles between you, the world around you comes rushing back. The others are staring at you both—gaping, wide-eyed, and grinning.

Louis is the first to speak, breaking the stunned silence. “Well, finally,” he says with a teasing smirk, though there’s something more sincere in his voice now. “We’ve all been waiting for that for ages.”

Niall, who’s been watching with a goofy grin on his face, lets out a soft chuckle. “Couldn’t have made it more obvious if you tried,” he adds, nudging Liam, who’s sitting next to him. “I mean, come on. The way you two look at each other? Ridiculous.”

Liam’s still looking at you and Zayn, his eyes wide and full of disbelief. “So, you’re really…?” His voice trails off, but his smile says it all. There’s something warm, supportive, in his tone, though it’s clear he’s still processing everything.

“You guys are a joke,” Harry finally says, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “We all knew. You’ve been driving us crazy for months now.” He grins, leaning back and crossing his arms. “But I have to admit, I’m kind of relieved. Now we don’t have to watch you two tiptoe around each other anymore.”

The others are laughing, and it’s clear they’re not laughing at you or Zayn, but with you both. There’s no judgment, no teasing edge to their words—only amusement and a sense of satisfaction that the tension between you and Zayn has finally been lifted.

“You two seriously need to stop with the subtle flirting,” Louis adds, his voice full of teasing affection. “It was cute at first, but now it’s just painful to watch.”

You laugh, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. It’s a relief to know that the boys aren’t upset or shocked, that they’re not seeing this as something that will ruin the dynamic of the group. They’ve all seen it, too—the way Zayn and you have always gravitated toward each other, the way you’ve always been in sync. And now, it’s finally out in the open.

Zayn squeezes your waist again, and you smile at the small, private gesture. His hand feels natural there, like it’s always been meant to be.

"Couldn’t agree more," Zayn says, his voice still a little rough, but now filled with a quiet confidence. He looks at the boys with a grin. “I think I’ve been pretty patient about it. Don’t you?”

The boys all laugh again, and for a second, you feel like you’re all just a group of friends again—no more tension, no more uncertainty. Just the bond you’ve always shared, now stronger than ever.

“Yeah, definitely,” Harry says, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I think we’re all just glad you finally figured it out.”

Niall raises his glass, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “To Zayn and Y/N, finally getting their act together,” he says, his voice light but sincere.

The group laughs and raises their drinks, and you can feel the weight of their support and love, even as the teasing continues. It’s a strange relief, knowing that this won’t change anything. It won’t mess up the group dynamic. In fact, it feels like the opposite.

“We should’ve just made it a dare,” Louis adds, his grin still wide. “I mean, we all knew it was inevitable.”

Zayn rolls his eyes but leans back against the couch, his hand never leaving your side. “Yeah, Louis, well… sometimes it’s better when you let things happen on their own.”

“Sure, sure,” Louis says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Whatever you say, mate.”

You laugh, feeling the tension melt away. It’s like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. There’s no more guessing, no more second-guessing every look or touch. You and Zayn are finally on the same page.

“So, now that that’s out of the way,” Harry says, breaking the moment with a wide grin, “what’s next for you two?”

You glance at Zayn, who’s looking back at you with a quiet smile on his face. “Maybe we can start by not pretending we’re not into each other?” you suggest playfully, earning a laugh from the group.

Zayn nods, his hand now resting comfortably around your shoulders. “Sounds good to me.”

And just like that, the boys are back to their usual selves—teasing, joking, and enjoying the rare moment of peace between them. But even with the lighthearted banter around you, you can’t help but feel a sense of calm. Everything feels right now. You and Zayn have finally crossed that line, and the world feels like it’s just a little bit more in sync.

Louis, Niall, Liam, and Harry all exchange knowing glances, their grins never fading, and you can tell this moment will be one you’ll look back on with a smile. Maybe it was a long time coming, but now that it’s out in the open, nothing will ever be the same—and somehow, that feels just perfect.

[toournextadventure]

the city can wait

Summary: You had promised your girlfriend one night of not disappearing. Of course, it just had to be on the craziest night of the year.

Word Count: 2,6k Warnings: swearing, drug and alcohol mention Pairing: Vada Cavell x Reader

Halloween. The one time of year where you didn’t really have to hide anything, you could roam around the city, only making excuses to leave instead of why you were dressed… a certain way. Not that your girlfriend ever really seemed to notice. It was probably the single greatest thing about her proclivity for weed; she never noticed.

“How does it look?” The woman herself asked as she finally stepped out of the bathroom and into the small apartment living room.

“How-” you covered your mouth with your hand “-how did you sneak that into the apartment?”

“How did you not notice it?”

Your mouth closed with a snap, and you nodded slowly. That was a very good point. How you had managed to miss a bright pink bunny costume was beyond you. Maybe it was because, much like you, Vada was a random variable. There was never any way that you could prepare for something she did, so you had quit noticing the “weird” things.

“At least you’re cute,” you said with a shrug and a smile. There was no point in arguing when she was right.

“I know I am,” she said with her own smile that took over her whole face.

God, she was adorable. Yes, she was grown, and yes, she was wearing what would technically be classified as a children’s costume. But did you care? Hell no, she was precious. If anything, it made you love her even more. Her childish side kept your head above water when things were getting tough, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“Are you going to keep staring?” She asked. “Or are we going to that party?”

“Let me grab my mask and we can go,” you said.

You practically hopped up from the couch, stopping just long enough to kiss Vada on the cheek before running to your shared room. It was stupid to hide your mask in the closet of your room, you knew that, but it was easy enough to play off. It’s a cosplay, you had explained the first time Vada had found it. It worked. She claimed you were just weird enough for it to be believable.

Which was a little rude, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

The mask still smelled of smoke from the week before. A smell that you were starting to become numb to. Hell, if Vada hadn’t brought it up the next day, you wouldn’t have even noticed. What did you smoke last night? She had asked. Because it wasn’t weed. You couldn’t remember which bullshit answer you had given her, all you remembered was that it was enough to get her to drop it.

How often, you wondered as you worked your way back to the living room, had she noticed something was off? It wasn’t like you were the sneakiest person around. If she behaved the way you did, you hoped you would notice. There was no way to not notice the bumps and bruises and unusual “work” hours. Well, you really did work, but that wasn’t the point!

“You’re so slow,” Vada called from the living room. “You’re the worst Spider-man ever.”

“I’m sure you could find worse,” you called back as you finally saw her again. Her smile never failed to get your heart racing. “Nick wouldn’t even get up to help anyone.”

“That’s why you’re the one I keep around,” she said. She reached over and grabbed your hand, pulling you out of the apartment that you hoped was locked. If it wasn’t?

Well, at least you knew a good superhero.

“You don’t keep me around for anything else?” You asked once you were both downstairs and walking down the crazy streets of New York City.

Everyone was dressed up for Halloween. There were kids running around, adults seeming tired even though it was barely 7:30, and teenagers and college kids acting like they owned the place. Which they kind of did, but it was fine. You and Vada were one of those college kids, so you couldn’t really complain. At least everyone seemed to be having a nice night already.

And hopefully not causing any trouble.

“I mean,” Vada started, “I guess you’re a good kisser too.”

“I am?” You asked. The smile on your face was… rather humiliating.

“But only when you’re not running off to go who-knows-where,” she continued.

Oh. Well that wasn’t as exciting.

“Speaking of running off,” she said when you both pulled up to the apartment building. She pulled you off to the side and stood in front of you.

God, just looking into her eyes? You loved her. Everything about her. From the sparkle in her eyes to the goofy half smile that she would get when she did something a little silly. It was in the soft yet needy way she held onto your hand, almost as if you would run away if she let go.

“No running off tonight,” Vada said, pulling you out of your admiration.

Right.

“I wouldn’t dream of it-”

“-I mean it,”  she continued, gently jabbing her finger into your chest. “We haven’t had a full night together in months.”

You sighed. Maybe she was right. Each time you had attempted to set up a night with Vada, something serious had gone on around the city. Hell, there had been serious riots just the other week! But you wouldn’t argue that you were getting into the nasty habit of running without any hesitation.

Perhaps you weren’t quite so good at balancing hero life and personal life. At least not like you thought you were.

“You may be Spider-Man tonight,” she said, her tone already turning softer, “but the city can wait.”

Oh, if only she knew.

“Yes ma’am,” you said anyway.

“Pinky promise,” she said.

If she wasn’t trying to act so serious, you would’ve laughed at the insistence when she held her small fist in front of her, pinky finger attempting to stick straight up. She was hindered by the rabbit gloves, but it was the thought that counted. See? That was another thing you loved about her. You may have lost most of your innocence, but she had enough for the both of you.

“Pinky promise,” you repeated, reaching out with your own hand and locking fingers with her as best you could.

“Seal the deal,” she said.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile on your face. It wasn’t going to stop you, though, as you leaned down and placed a light kiss on Vada’s lips. Her hands attempted to grab the front of your suit, but she was thwarted by the giant gloves. You nearly choked on a laugh but managed to keep your cool. Mostly. A little. Okay, you laughed, but it was fine!

“Come on, Spider-dude,” Vada huffed, “let’s have some fun.”

Surprisingly? You did. Not surprising in that you didn’t enjoy parties, or being with Vada. Hell, being with Vada was the best part of your life. Any time with her was a good time, and you would do anything to stay with her. But it was surprising in that, for the first time since discovering your, uh, condition, you could relax.

For the first time, you weren’t spending every second wondering if someone was being hurt, or if there was something you could do to help. You didn’t have that desire to swing between buildings, looking for even the slightest indication that something was wrong. No, none of it was on your mind, and you could finally act your age. You could be a normal kid.

Until you couldn’t.

“Did you two see this?” Mia asked as she came up to where you were sitting with Vada on your lap.

“See what?” You asked.

“Put it away,” Vada said instantly before Mia could hand her phone over. “You pinky promised.”

“I just wanna know,” you tried to argue.

“You’re not actually a hero, you know,” she said.

Oh, if only she knew.

“But I am nosy,” you tried to defend. Tried being the key word. “Let me see.”

Vada groaned loudly, but didn’t bother stopping you from taking Mia’s phone from her outstretched hand. The news app was opened to display a fire raging in what appeared to be a residential building. At the top of the screen, the banner read “Queens apartment fire still ongoing.”

Your stomach dropped. Were there people trapped in the building? If the fire was still raging on, did the fire department need any help? Surely they couldn’t handle it all on their own, they probably needed a hand. After all, who better to find trapped civilians than you? It would only take about 20 minutes, then you could get back and spend the rest of the night at the party like you were supposed to.

Vada shifted on your lap. Oh. Right. You couldn’t just leave. You had made a promise that you wouldn’t leave all night. And as silly as it might seem, you didn’t take that promise lightly. Even though she turned it into a joke and something that wasn’t really a big deal, you knew otherwise. Thanks to the shooting, Vada hid most of her “serious” feelings, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t see the subtle ways she showed them.

“That’s a shame,” you finally managed to say, handing the phone back to Mia. “I hope no one gets hurt.”

You felt Vada’s arms tighten slightly around your shoulders.

“Wow,” Mia said with a slow nod. “I thought Spider-Man would rush off to help.”

“Yeah,” you said, chuckling humourlessly, “but I can’t help anyone if my girlfriend kills me.”

“Good answer,” Vada said before placing a sloppy kiss on your cheek. She was far more into PDA when she was drinking.

You loved it.

What you didn’t love, however, was all the crime and chaos that apparently decided to wait until you couldn’t leave. Fires, robberies, shootings, everything that could happen? Happened. Each time Mia walked up to you and Vada, your heart jumped into your throat before you even saw what was on her phone. And each time, you had to fight every instinct in your body to rush out and help.

And Vada always gave you a kiss immediately after.

The kisses made you feel a little better about internally saying no to leaving. Vada would get the biggest smile on her face and pull you down for the kiss. She tasted of cheap alcohol and questionable chasers and the tiniest hint of weed. But she was warm, and her lips were soft, and each kiss had you more and more convinced that you just needed to take her back home and remind her how much you loved her.

By the time you were both attempting to leave the party, you didn’t even feel so bad about taking the night for yourself. You weren’t even paying attention when Mia came back up to you and Vada for the last time of the night, phone in hand and news app open.

“One more for the New York Chaos?” Vada asked.

“Ending Halloween with a bang,” Mia said with a shrug.

Something at the back of your mind told you to look at the phone. To see how bad it was. The night was practically over, you had kept your promise and had stayed throughout the entire party. Would it count as breaking the promise once you were out of the apartment?

But you felt Vada’s hand squeeze yours, and you looked at her. She had pulled the hood off her bunny suit about an hour ago, claiming it was too hot. Her hair was slicked back with a few strands sticking to her forehead, but she still looked absolutely stunning. She was your Vada.

“Leave it to New York to let the crazies out tonight,” you said without even taking the phone.

Mia smiled. “Stay safe going home.”

You both bid Mia a goodnight, promising to stay safe, before Vada led you out of the apartment and back to the streets. It was a quick walk home, a little quieter than normal thanks to the alcohol coursing through both of your bodies. But it was comfortable, and you were happy. Truly happy. It was a nice feeling.

“Tonight was fun,” you said when you closed the apartment door behind you while Vada started pulling her costume off.

“See what happens when you stay?” She teased.

“I know, I know,” you huffed, letting out a sigh when you tried to move. The suit was chafing.

“I have to admit something,” Vada said. There was a tone to her voice that you didn’t hear very often. A tone that meant trouble.

“What?” You asked.

She licked her lips before biting her bottom lip. You stepped forward, placing your hands on her hips. Whatever it was, you didn’t want her to think you were upset with her. Clearly something was bothering her, or at least making her think twice. You weren’t going to make it harder than it had to be.

“You know all those news reports tonight?” She asked slowly.

You nodded.

“None of them were… real.”

“What?” You blurted out before you could even stop yourself.

“They weren’t real,” she repeated with a nervous giggle. One that she only used when she knew she was in trouble.

“What do you mean they weren’t real?” You asked, doing your best to keep your voice level.

“We were testing you,” she continued.

“For what?” You asked again.

“I know this isn’t a cosplay,” she said, pulling lightly on the collar of your suit.

“You-” you exhaled harshly. What did she mean, she knows? There was no way. You weren’t the most sneaky, but you weren’t stupid. How could she possibly know? Maybe you were just a really committed cosplayer, did she ever think about that?

“No one coincidentally disappears before every disaster in the city,” Vada said. Her hands smoothed your suit down, resting on your shoulders. They were soft. You loved the feel of her hands.

She knew. She knew. Oh god, she knew. What were you going to do now? Was it going to put her in danger? She said “we,” did that mean Mia too? Oh god did that mean both of them were in danger? They were both trouble on their own, let alone when they were together. How were you going to keep both of them safe?

“When did you find out?” You asked, ignoring the fifty million other questions running through your mind.

“A few months ago,” Vada said with a sheepish smile. “Mia was over when you snuck in and passed out on the couch in the suit and mask.”

Oh.

Oh, maybe you were stupid.

“I kinda think it’s hot,” Vada continued when you still couldn’t find anything else to say. “Have anything that would be fun in bed?”

You looked at her in shock for only a moment before lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around your waist before she rested her hands on your neck and leaned down to kiss you. You didn’t have to look to know where the bedroom was. If she wanted to learn a few things, then you would show her.

The city could wait for one night.

[darkpuppysuit]

~CHAPTER 5~

Pairing: Hybrid!BTSxReader

Words: 8k

Warnings: Smoking, cursing, hybrid rut, anxiety, I hope I haven't missed any.

The next few hours Y/n went on to cook dinner like nothing had happened between her and Jimin in the truck when they had gotten home although, she was still very nervous a certain someone would run their mouth. But whoever is running the heavens and Jungkook being the only person that knew what had actually transpired, the moose managed to keep his mouth shut tight but gave her teasing looks every chance he got. Jimin however didn't seem to care in his state of mind, foggy and hazy as all hell. He followed Y/n around like a love sick puppy, quite literally because he does love her. 

Every step she made Jimin was a safe step behind her and when she would stop for however brief he attached himself to her letting out small whines from his throat and rubbing his thumb over her wrist while his chin hooked onto her shoulder. Y/n would giggle every time as the rest of them watched on.

At one point Seokjin had called them two dumb teenagers for how the retriever would distractedly throw himself at her and she would respond with a head pat or a little kiss to his nose. And if she didn't do one of those two things Jimin would pout and whine until he got one or both effectively making dinner later than usual.

Namjoon watched Jimin closely after dinner, not that he hadn't already eyed him the entire time at the dinner table. Trying to figure out what exactly had happened today to make Jimin invade on his territory when his mark is still faintly yet clearly on her throat. It made the wolf inside him roar in fury that another canine, a domestic nonetheless had the balls to impede on what his wolf had already claimed as his. The logical side of his mind however knew that Y/n wasn't his and he didn't have a right to have this boiling fury bubbling in his chest.

Jimin was the first to find him and Seokjin after he had ran away from his previous owner. He was small and frail, it was obvious he hadn't eaten any real food for weeks. Not to mention his timid demeanor when Namjoon had shown him his sharp teeth for the first time when he smiled at Jimin for finally eating more than a cracker or two from the fancy Italian restaurant trash bins in the city. Jimin tried his best to smile back at the wolf but his eyes kept darting to the jaguar hybrid knowing he was the less intimidating hybrid with his squishy bread cheeks and soft smile. 

But right now the anger he felt as he kept his stern gaze on the back of Jimins head was slowly making him lose his own mind. If he didn't make an excuse now he was sure to explode at the next person who so much as breathed in his general direction. 

While there was a boring pause in the movie they all agreed to watch Y/n looked over her shoulder to Namjoon and the permanent scowl on his face. His eyes were on fire and squinted right at her and Jimin who were curled on the couch together with Hoseok at his feet slowly falling asleep. He looked lost in thought Y/n assumed, if only she knew what was going on behind those dragon eyes of his.

Seokjin however knew what was wrong with him, perhaps he would always know. Call it instincts or what have you but he just always knew when the wolf needed to leave before he did something he would regret. "Hey Namjoon?" He asked softly as the movie began to get interesting again and had vaguely caught everyone's attention.

Namjoon answers with a low grunt before finally tearing his gaze from burning holes in the back of Jimins head to look the jaguar in the eyes. He stares right back at him with a stern yet parent like look in his eyes as if to ask him if he needs a breather.

Namjoon knows what Seokjin wants and he ends up excusing himself and using Seokjin as an escape goat claiming something stupid like, he won't get to his room in the dark without falling over or tripping over the rug nailed to the stairs. Even though all seven of them could see in the dark just fine, the wolf just needed an out before he ripped Jimin a new asshole.

"What's going on with you? It like the whole scenting thing all over again only this time- you're highly pissed off and not sickly." Seokjin crossed his arms over his chest and juts out his hip like a scolding parent waiting for Namjoon to speak up. He rubs the back of his neck nervously walking through his bedroom door and turning on the light.

"I know I know I just- my instincts are telling me one thing and my mind is telling me another. Seeing Jimin fawn over Y/n like he has been since they got home- it's making my wolf go stir crazy. It thinks that just because he's marked her skin that she belongs to him and only him." Namjoon flops back onto his bed with a thump and squeak of the old bedframe with his arms straight out and legs stretched over the edge like a starfish. 

Seokjin joins him on the bed and asks him to sit up and he does so oddly slow. "I understand that it's difficult because you've never had an owner before and the scenting thing is new to you." The jaguar takes a deep breath before rolling the old desk chair in front of Namjoon and opting to sit in it instead, almost falling over with how old and rickety it is. "Jimin knows we agreed to share her, you Namjoon also know he's in a deep headspace. It easy for domestics to attach themselves easily to a new owner, some even form really close bonds with their owner. Going so far as to form a relationship with them." 

Namjoon sits pin straight on his bed knocking over the small pile of books next to his feet. He has a bad habit of going into the dusty bedroom next to his to look at the massive collection of books to find new things to read, hardly ever putting them back once he's finished. 

He didn't think of it that way, how easy it was for domestics to form bonds with humans and other hybrids alike. Perhaps being born a wild instead of a domestic was really a curse and not a blessing like his parents had told him all his life.

During his younger years Namjoon would find himself at the end of some woods lining an old park, watching humans and their hybrids on leashes with collars. Only ever making one real friend there.

Part of him was happy he didn't have to wear something around his neck but even so another part of him longed for it. To belong somewhere- to someone but hearing horror stories from strays who had run away made him think bitterly of humans and their ways with hybrids. Hybrids weren't allowed to be outside without a collar and leash like any other animal especially the more exotic breeds.

Namjoon wasn't going to hurt anyone even at a young age where his instincts drove him wild like a true grey wolf. Being out in the woods wild and free- no one to tell him otherwise- a place he had complete free will to do what he wanted.

Again something in the back of his brain gnawed at him, yearning for something more because it was only him and his parents until one day the humans who hunted wild animals and wild hybrid alike took his parents from him just as he had turned nine-teen.

He tried to protect his parents from them- hide them even but they had sacrificed themselves so that their son could live maybe find another wolf hybrid and start his own family. Unlucky for his parents wishes that would never happen.

Namjoon stayed wild until Seokjin a battered and bruised show hybrid came into his life just a year or so later. He felt the need to nurse the jaguar back to health so he did. Given him new clothes and out of his show gear after days of wearing the tattered clothing.

After a year had passed the two had grown close to each other forming a two hybrid pack. Keeping themselves distant from eyes or persons that dared to hurt them.

"I never thought of it that way, I guess I over reacted a little bit- in my head at least." Namjoon chuckles scrunching his nose at the awful thoughts he had mere minutes ago and to think he was ready to rip Jimins throat out.

Seokjin shifts in the chair slightly followed by a worrying crack from the desk chair underneath him. He reaches out to tuck a strand of his silver hair behind the wolfs ear. He saw the worried glance Y/n had given Namjoon in the living room earlier- he can tell just by looking at her facial expressions that she's worried about him and the way he's been acting. 

They all cling to her in different ways, a few for a sense of belonging others for companionship maybe. But no matter how they see this odd relationship they've formed in just a few short months they know she'll protect them and they'll protect her all the same, even if she doesn't think she needs it.

The last day before the eight of them were scheduled to leave, Hoseok and Y/n were the last to pack their bags. Scrambling around just to make sure they had everything they'd need- Y/n made sure they had everything. Yet Hoseok insisted he had his stuff handled like a grown fox should but he didn't and he was surely freaking out at least internally Y/n thought.

Y/n knocks on the fox hybrids door before walking inside after hearing a muffled 'come in' from the other side of the door. "Hey Hoseok do you have yo-" Her eyes widen before ducking as a random pair of pants come flying at her head and she's quick to recover.

She looks between the pile on his floor to the door then attempting to find Hoseok somewhere in his room only to find him knee deep in even more clothing inside his closet mumbling under his breath.

"I know I put it in here- where the fuck is it?" He mumbles as he continues to practically destroy his bed room looking for what, Y/n had no clue. "What exactly are you looking for foxy?" She asks purely out of curiosity, the nickname she had started to call him just a few weeks ago makes Hoseok pause for a moment before he turns to her- a pleasant pink blush on his face. 

"I- uhm looking for my tag. I thought I put it in a safe place where I could find it before we left but- I've been sadly mistaken and-" He turns shy and rubs the back of his neck with a small defeated sigh escaping his heart shaped lips. "I can't find it. I'm sorry Y/n I knew I should have just put it on when you gave it to me so I knew for a fact I wouldn't lose it." Hoseok ears are pressed against his head and his tail has curled around his legs as he rambles and apologizes over and over again as Y/n moves through his disaster of a room trying to help him locate his missing tag.

"It's alright Hoseok we'll find it. I'm sure it's in here somewhere- where did you put it after I gave it to you?" She picks up his running shoes and sets them in his carry on because she knew that he'd want them with him on the plane. Hoseok sprints around his space in the closet his orange tail whipping against his hip in frustration and his ears flicking in annoyance. "I swear I put it on the top shelf of my closet." He says in passing as he rushes pass her to his night stand opening the top drawer to find yet another mess of what he had no clue- just a bunch of junk he assumes at this point. 

Hoseok is at his wits end by now trying to find his tag, because if he doesn't find it he can't fly with Y/n and the others and would be stuck here at the farm by himself all alone. He sits at the edge of his bed defeated hanging his head low with his hands resting in his lap.

Y/n finishes picking up all the stray clothes and setting them at the opposite corner of his bed before she comes over to him and sits next to him. Not too close to cause discomfort but close enough to have a shoulder to cry on if he needed it because let's face it the poor fox was nearly frantic when it came to a time crunch like this- even though he had the entire afternoon to look for it.

"I'm so sorry I lost it. I'll do better I promise- is there a way to get a replacement before tomorrow morning?" Hoseok asks his bottom lip stuck out like a pouting child only Y/n knows for a fact he didn't really mean to lose it in the first place. He leans over and rests his head on her shoulder silently sulking to himself.

Hoseok feels like he's let her down and the fact that she seems unaffected by this disaster makes his ears twitch and flick in anticipation- waiting for her reaction. "I'm not mad Hobi- things get lost sometimes and that's okay. We can't get a replacement under such short notice but- it's a good thing I found it." She chuckles and takes the tag out from his pants pocket- the blue jeans he worked in yesterday while helping her drag some hay and feed into the barn.

Y/n holds it out for him to see- his name, hybrid breed, and date of birth stamped into the metal with a rubber band around it shining in the dim lamp light. Hoseoks eyes light up and he quickly snatches it from her hand with a happy chirp holding it close to his chest. "Thank you! Oh thank you Y/n- I don't know what I would do without you I swear." 

He wraps his arms around her tightly practically squeezing the life out of her and hides his face in the crook of her neck taking a deep inhale of her lovely scent making the fur of his tail and ears stand on end like something shocked him.

He stayed there for a while glued to her like super glue letting himself get lost in her scent. It was like ambrosia for him- a safe haven even. Y/n's scent was different from all the others he'd come across- nothing like the sweet scents of most foxes or the warmer more earthy tones of his packmates. This aroma of hers was unique- a scent that was all purely Y/n and he loved it more than he let on.

"Seriously who needs this much time to do their hair? Hurry up Jimin! I still need to brush my teeth!" Taehyung shouts from the other side of the bathroom door after banging on it with his fist repeatedly, quiet chuffs of irritation slipping from his mouth.

Jimin scoffs at the closed door before rolling his eyes and shouting back. "You're not the one with a pup lick at the back of your head! Get in here if you're just brushing your teeth!" The door handle jiggled for a moment before Taehyung was able to fumble through the door and start brushing his teeth already at least halfway dressed in the early hours of the morning. 

"Did you take my comb cat?" Jungkook barks while staring at Yoongi, barreling into his bedroom. Yoongi looks at him with wide feline eyes before he schools his startled expression. "What would I do with your comb curly? I have my own." He asks a slight snicker slipping from his mouth as he stares at the hybrid standing in front of him with curlier than curly hair.

"My hair curls when I take a shower, now where is it?" Jungkook grimaces as he takes a step inside the book and record littered bedroom. "Take it easy moose, I took it here!" Jimin shouts as he slides past the potential confrontation and throws the comb in Jungkooks general direction. The hybrid just barely catching it and storming out and back to his room to finish getting ready.

Hoseok walks out of his bedroom still half asleep but nonetheless dressed- almost as groggy as Seokjin as the jaguar slips past him towards the stairs to get some coffee from Y/n downstairs.

She had been trying to wake each of them up since four in the morning so they would have enough time to relax before the flight left the ground but at the rate their going? They'll barely get to the gate on time to board the flight. 

Y/n gently hands him a tumbler of iced espresso coffee before turning to finish making her own. A silent understanding that nobody needs to hear the other talk this early in the morning just yet- although hearing her soft 'morning'  and her fingers sliding against his cool skin wasn't unwelcome. 

"Don't use my stuff- I've told you that a million times Hobi! Oh yeah? Just get your own next time we go to the store, it's not that hard!" Namjoon yells as he jogs down the stairs with his suitcase in hand and his bag thrown over his shoulder a look of irritation on his face. Y/n looks down at her digital wrist watch before marching up the stairs the wolf hybrid just sped down and nearly tripped on the last step.

"Guys we have literally ten minutes before we have to hustle out the door! I hope-" Y/n is abruptly cut off by a very firm, very naked chest as she comes crashing into Taehyung who still has yet to put a shirt on as he rushes out the bathroom door. "Shit sorry Y/n- didn't see you there- you good?" The tiger hybrid apologizes a few more times before he notices her staring at him, he shakes her by her arms silently hoping she isn't having a panic attack or something.

Y/n shakes her head before looking up at him with a small smile and rosy red cheeks. "I'm fine- no really Tae, honest. Just put a shirt on you weirdo and hurry up!" She laughs nervously as she speed walks past him in hopes he didn't see just how much his shirtless form made her skin flush and her mind wander to places it shouldn't. Taehyung stands still for a moment almost as dumb founded as that day in the kitchen when he had flustered her to the point she had to step outside. 

Taehyung slips into his room to finish getting dressed as Jungkook steps out of his own room dressed in all black with an old leather jacket tugged over his shoulders. They look at each other for merely a second before the moose rolls his eyes and takes his stuff downstairs to eventually take to the truck.

Once everything was put into the back of the truck and the seven hybrids into the cab Y/n did a once over of all their belongings and made sure each of the hybrids had their collars on. Each chain colored to their liking- was it so she could keep tabs on them in the airport and Montana a few states over? Yes, would she ever tell any of them that? Hell no, treating them like children was the last things she wanted them to assume when she got them their collars in the first place.

Down at the airport everything was just barely waking up as the sun broke out over the horizon just east of the large building. The brisk chill in the air gave Y/n a slight bite to her goosebump covered skin as she hopped out of the truck and helped the hybrids grab their bags and suitcases. With a few grumbles and low growls from Yoongi who still had yet to fully wake up since he was one of the last to get out of bed they all managed to get to the gate a few minutes early. 

A fucking miracle.

The eight of them stood in line waiting to board the plane, Y/n swallowed hard when a few piercing looks were sent her way- mainly from older people. Namjoon and Jungkook hardly give them a second glance as they flank either side of Y/n to keep the lingering stares off of her.

It was common for someone to have more than one hybrid yes, this was true but what was not normal to hear about or much less see was one person with seven hybrids at their back.

Y/n couldn't help but let out a low shudder as one older man gives her the most disgusted look she was sure he could muster. She lets out a small sigh just as they got closer to the door then she hears a slight grumble followed by a cut short hiss.

As she spins around to look for the feline who made that noise- she spies Yoongi crouching down to a little girl with a gummy smile on his lips- his black collar dangling around his neck. She scratches the spot behind his ears on top of his head and he pushes them against her palm like a common house cat when she stops for even a second making the little one- adorned in all pink- giggle and continue her scratches behind his ears. Y/n smiled wide as she watched the two of them, taking note of the sweet spot just behind his right ear that made the hybrid languidly flick his tail behind his back and purr brokenly in contentment. 

When the plane touched down in Montana the eight of them walked through the airport almost lost until a loud squealing blonde in a short pink velvet dress waves her hand wildly with a smile at them, specifically Y/n. The blonde toddles forward and gives Y/n who stands at least four inches shorter than her a big hug and squeals right in her ear. "Ah! I can't believe Uncle James kept you a secret for so long! You're Y/n right?  Be awkward if I was huggin' a stranger!" She shouts with her blinding smile pulling Y/n at arms length to see her startled expression and wide eyes.

"Okay take it easy Dixie- they only just arrived. Give Y/n some breathin' room." The low gravel like voice tuts behind her and she backs up a few steps, her smile never faltering. "Sorry Uncle Samuel I'm just happy to have another cousin that's a girl!" She giggles standing next to the tall and lean gentleman that easily towers over both of them.

His salt and pepper full head of hair and lightly greying beard moving with his every move before he sets his cowboy hat back on his head, Y/n tugging her own further down on her head to adjust it. "Sorry about her darlin' she gets easily excited sometimes." Samuel bows his head slightly at Y/n with a tight lipped smile as he takes note of the hybrids standing tall behind her- all seven of them.

Namjoon and Jin stand the closest to her their hands barely brushing her soft skin trying to shield her from these two strangers. "Now where're my manners?" Samuel clears his throat and stands straight- like he needed to be any taller.

"I'm Samuel the baby brother of your fathers and your late Uncle James- this here's Dixie Dutton she recently got engaged to my oldest son Colton a few months back." He gestures between the pair of them with deft hands his thick mustache covering most of his lips as he talks. "And just who have you brought with you- I know Anthony told us they were hybrids that much I can see at least." He says cryptically as he looks at each of them with laser focus as if he was sizing them up individually.

After she overcomes her initial shock Y/n shakes her head making her low ponytail shake. "Oh uh- this is Namjoon and this is uh- Jin and Taehyung..." She continues listing all of them off one by one and pointing in their direction. Namjoon and Yoongi's little hairs at the back of their neck stand on end as they take in the new male in front of them.

Taehyung looks at him through lidded eyes and emotionless expression on his handsome face while all the others keep their guard up, sensing something isn't quite right here. Just like at the house before they left with her mothers old friend, something even about him- although he didn't seem to pose a threat- made then not trust him right away.

The conversation continues as the small group of them walk towards the exit of the airport the seven hybrids staying to themselves and alert the entire time until they finally get out of the overwhelming scent choked airport and into the fresh air outside. They all take a deep breath of air, the less suffocating almost scentless wind blowing past them in a gust of wind. 

Down in the open car garage the group is met with a large truck, like Y/n's back home only newer- a lot newer and a sleek dark sparkling pink BMW with purple dice hanging from the rearview mirror. "Oh Y/n you should ride with me! We'll get to the ranch faster that way!" Dixie shouts loudly grabbing Y/n by her arm and dragging her off to the sports car.

Y/n reaches for Namjoon only for their hands to slide over each other as she pulled away from her boys and Samuel. Yoongi rolls his eyes in annoyance of her shrill shriek of excitement- a grating sound to his hybrid ears and everyone else's. At least when Y/n's friend Emily did it she had the decency to turn it down. 

"We can talk about anything too! We can talk about clothes or- shoes or oh! Especially boys! I'd love to talk boys with you sometime." Okay Dixie has to be much younger than Y/n or Jungkook or maybe she just liked being the younger dumb fiancé to what Y/n assumes is a big cowboy named Colton. "I- I don't know if I wanna talk uh- shoes?" She questions but her half hearted nervous reply only makes Dixie laugh and Samuel chuckle.

"Oh yeah, you boys just lost her. For now at least- or until Dixie goes home." Samuel chuckles again and opens the truck doors as Dixie talks to Y/n animatedly about her car and a few other things the guys can't quite decipher even with their hybrid hearing.

Taehyung wishes he could turn his ears off just so he could possibly think straight without Dixie's overexcitement piercing his white tiger ears so harshly. Like an icepick being stabbed into a block of ice repeatedly.

"What do you mean by that?" Yoongi and Jimin ask at the same time their bodies jerking towards the two women to be closer to Y/n absently, their tails flicking back and forth languidly but pointed.

Namjoon is ramrod stiff, keeping his calculated gaze fixed on Y/n, watching the way she starts to loosen up around her newly acclaimed cousin and begins to jabber and laugh with her.

Samuel shakes his head and starts the truck quickly then turns to the seven of them as they all watch the girls chatter like crickets singing into the night. "Dixie doesn't have a lot of girl friends on account her mother never let her out long enough to make any. She's just happy to have a cousin who ain't got a chance to judge her quite yet so, she just wants to make a good impression on her." He taps the truck a few times causing the two women to look up in sync.

"S'bout time we head out Dix- I'll meet you at the ranch! Come on boys- pile in." He ushers the seven of them inside the battered ranch truck, surprisingly there's more than enough room for all of them even Jungkook and his heavy antler halo.

Samuel looks back in his review mirror with a smile as he watches Dixie and Y/n still chattering away to each other as she pulls up behind him and he gently pulls onto the slightly busy main road towards the ranch.

Y/n thought her ranch was big but compared to the humongous estate her and Dixie had pulled onto she would have to seriously rethink about how blessed she is to only have eighty acres and not over four-hundred acres.

The place was huge not to mention the dark wood cabin just at the end of the long dirt driveway that was just plain beautiful in her opinion. It was maybe thousands of square feet bigger than her grandparents house back home.

The weathered green tin sat on the cabin with a wrap around porch adorned with every flower and vine plant from the porch floor to the mantles that held more hanging plants. Small statues of horses and bulls littered the flower bush beds and a few old wagon wheels too.

At the highest part of the house held a large star, rusted and weathered from the long years of being in the same spot for so long. In the middle of the stairs leading up to the front sat a large red door with a golden handle and a small window at the top. The house also had two towers like hers back home, Y/n wondered what compelled her grandfather to build his house in such a similar fashion way back then.

"To say this place is huge is an understatement." Y/n gawked her jaw slack as she stood from the car and shut the door. "Yeah I guess it's pretty big compared to most estates our Uncle James owned." Dixie stands close to Y/n looking up at the large mansion sized house with her, the large sunglasses taking up most of her face. Y/n chuckled lightly with a snort when the red ranch truck pulled up behind them and the guys nearly tumble out of the lifted truck and onto the ground.

They shuffle forward yet Hoseok was hanging back nearly dry heaving as he tried to steady himself on his own two feet. Seokjin wasn't fairing much better either, it looks like two of the hybrids got motion sick easily, the mental note tucked into her mental library should she ever need the knowledge.

Samuel pats Hoseok and Seokjin rather hard on the back with a smile as they look at him with a pained expression clutching at their shirts. Samuel walks past them and towards Y/n and Dixie with a chuckle. "Yup, this right here was James' favorite place to be. Close to family and close to his ranch. Nothing much to say about the old man though he loved a lot of people and a lot of people loved him." Samuel motioned for them to follow him around back to their high class break pen, well not high class per say but it was made of metal and not wooden fencing like the one back home.

A few of the ranch hands were watching as a younger man was breaking in a new mare they had gotten from the auction yard just this morning. The mare was bucking wildly and neighing loudly doing whatever she could to get the cowboy off of her back without throwing it out.

Y/n saw her and instantly bolted for the fence, saddling next to a handsome man all clad in black with dark aviators over his eyes and a black cowboy hat. He had a dark beard and spoke smooth as butter when he saw Y/n staring intently at the show in front of them.

"Well howdy there- don't think I've ever seen you here before little lady." He drawls out tipping his hat at her with a shit eating grin. Dixie comes into his view and he holds her by the waist and she giggles as the rest of them walk up to the fence as well. "Baby this is our long lost cousin Y/n and her little group of hybrids." Y/n's hair at the back of her neck bristled at the pitched voice coming from her left and she's snapped back to reality.

"Oh I-I'm sorry. Yeah I'm Y/n, I guess we share an uncle?" She says nearly questioning everything herself. She only ever saw ranches like this in shows, needless to say she felt as though she was floating in a dream.

Colton chuckled as he glanced at the rest of them some standing stiff, some shuffling closer to Y/n and the one with a black darkly spotted tail still spinning from the drive out here. 

The young ranch hand that was just trying to break in the mare looks a little worse for wear when he pulls the horse behind him.

This close to the huffing horse Y/n got a better look at her, she was a golden brown with hair as dark as the night, her big round eyes a chocolate honey brown. Y/n smiled at her a gentle feel to her eyes and the horse nodded it's head at her and took a few steps forward. She pressed her snout against Y/n's cheek a few times before resting her heavy head on top of Y/n's making her giggle happily and the horse huff and quietly neigh.

"I think she likes you." Jimin chirps with a shy smile and walks over to them to stand in front of the horse too giving her a pat or two to her neck. Colton looks on in amazement they had been trying to break that mare in for hours, taking turns when one of them got tired. And here came this new person and all she had to do was smile at the damn thing. 

"Well color me fascinated, how in the hell did you manage that? You some sort of telepath?" Samuel chuckles at his son's slack jaw and wide eyes, Dixie shuffling a little at the lack of her fiancé's attention. 

Yoongi smiles at Y/n, proud of her and how in tune she is with animals. In fact all of them were smiling at her. Jimin knew there was a reason he told his mismatched pack mates to race to the barn that night, perhaps whoever was running the upstairs knew they suffered for far too long. And they knew just who to send the seven of them towards, Y/n.

Night had fallen soon after the eight of them all curled into one of the large bedrooms big enough to fit three of their bedrooms at home. It was decorated with more plants only these were fake. Vines danced around the room and into the banisters above along with a string or two of fairy lights.

Two large Alaskan king sized beds pushed together as one at the center of the room, it's sheets a deep emerald color topped with a big heavy black duvet. It was all very modern yet rustic. Floor to ceiling windows looking over the ranch a floor down below them, in the distance the hybrids could see the dark mountain outline covered by trees. It took their breath away, everything was so spacious they didn't have to worry about stepping on someone's tail- or feet.

Y/n left her suitcase open on the bed so she could put away her shower stuff into the large bathroom with her back turned to the door. When she stood back up and turned around there was a quick click of the bathroom door and her face smacked right into a hard chest.

She has got to start paying attention to where she's going, seriously. 

Namjoon breathed heavily as her scent filled his nose, it was more concentrated this time although the bathroom was big and there was plenty of breathing room. Her scent of cedar and leather with a hint of coconut and undertone of lavender was intoxicating to the wolf hybrid since the day he marked her throat with his teeth. His cock twitches in his sweatpants and his chest rumbled as he tried to keep his composure in front of her but it was getting painful for him to hold back.

"I need to know. Please it's driving me insane Y/n." Namjoon pleads looking into her eyes as her head jerks up and her startled gaze meets his stern expression. She's at a lose for words as her cheeks light themselves on fire under his dragon eyes. "Wh-What do you m-mean?" She stutters as he closes the distance between the pair of them. Pressing his chest into hers. Y/n stumbles backwards and into the wall behind her with a small squeak of surprise.

Namjoon looks down at the floor as he cages her in with his strong arms on either side of her head making Y/n jump as her cheeks got even warmer, her heart starts racing and her walls clench around nothing as he stares at her with predatory eyes. "Don't play stupid with me baby, I see how you've been with Jimin days before we left home. I need to know if there's still room for me in that heart of yours." He growls, a thing sheen of sweat coating his forehead.

He nuzzles his nose against her pulse point and loves it when he feels it quicken even more than before. He licks against it playfully, he doesn't need to scent her again just yet but damn did he feel the need to claim her in a different way, his knot was already half popped and his judgment wasn't the best with his alpha drop clouding his judgement.

Namjoons tail began to swish behind him impatiently waiting for her to answer. "I marked you first, wh-what does that dog have that I don't? Is it because he's domestic and I'm wild is that it?" Namjoon asks breathlessly through gritted teeth as his eyes flash a pale, golden blue color at her. His chest rumbles against her as he presses his hips into hers making his clouded intentions clear to her.

"Feel what you do to me baby? Fuck, what I wouldn't give to be buried in that tight, warm cunt of yours right now." He growls again then latches his lips to the side of her neck and sucks hard at her sensitive skin making her gasp and press against his chest at the pleasure-pain he was giving her body. Namjoon purrs at her little reactions reveling in every sound she made, he licks the bruise he left on the left side of her neck and whispered in her ear. 

"I could take you right now and nobody would be non the wiser. Your family left, all the others are downstairs occupying themselves until they're ready to go to bed." The wolf cups her slick cunt through the fabric of her leggings and rubs it a few times before letting out a low moan. "Fuck, you're so wet- haven't even touched you and you're soaked." He growls possessively nipping her the sweet spot just at her collarbone leaving a small blooming bruise behind.

He begins grinding himself harder against her throbbing cunt lifting one of her legs and hooking it over his hip. The new angle making Y/n moan softly in his ear and her eyes become lidded at the friction he's giving her.

His cock throbs against her, he was big and thick from what she could feel through his pants. Namjoon is sweating bullets his breathing is ragged and broken as he loses himself against her. The sweet gooey scent pouring off of Y/n in waves only fueling the insatiable hunger he felt deep at the base of his spine, his half popped knot getting red and angry the longer it was left untouched.

Y/n was trying her best to think straight but it was difficult when you had a male hybrid rutting into your hips. Wait of course- rut- maybe Namjoon is in his pre-rut at the moment? If that was the case then Y/n needed a plan on how to deal with a rutting wolf hybrid when she wasn't even home.

She taps him on the shoulders a few times before he barely lets her go with a grunt of frustration. "Namjoon, you're in pre-rut. I- I don't even know how to help you during a rut." She manages to push him off of her for a few moments finally catching her breath when Namjoon's gaze softens and he somewhat comes back to reality.

His cheeks were crimson red with how much exertion he just went through, he noticed while they were going through the airports how much everything had gotten under his skin. Every little thing irritated him. The way that big dumb ranch hand stared at her while they tended to the horses, what was his name? Colton or maybe lint licker? Doesn't matter the guy got way to close to her for his liking and made Namjoon see red.

He could hardly hold back every time she had passed him to put something away or every time she flicked her hair to get it out of her face. Not to mention the leggings she decided to put on, downright sinful the way her curves and the swell of her ass filled them out, the faint hint of blue lace panties showing every time she bent over. The sight was like a invite for the hybrid and his cock twitched and stood at attention when he saw her.

Shit, he's royally fucked big time isn't he?

He looks away from her completely embarrassed by his actions before his alpha takes over making Y/n jump as he quickly advanced on her again. Only this time he missed and she managed to slip out the door and ran for the bedroom door with a squeal.

The thrilling excitement of a chase made Namjoons blood boil with a primal need to hunt his prey. He let out a low snarl as he stalked through the room towards Y/n who had just barely made it to the downstairs living area, looking behind her every few seconds for the rutting wolf hybrid.

The rest of them see her scared state and Yoongi steps in front of her to stop her as she mumbles a few words he couldn't catch. "Hey whoa take it easy kitten. What's got you so spooked? Don't tell me you think this place is haunted too?" The panther chuckles as Jungkook can be heard from the living room stating that he called it as he played a video game on the seventy-five inch tv mounted on the wall with Seokjin, the youngest clearly winning. Yoongi smooths his hands down her shoulders to her elbows letting her catch her breath and watches her closely as she begins to speak through heavy breaths and points behind her. 

Before she could even tell them about Namjoon the very wolf hybrid makes his way stomping down the stairs his pale golden eyes on full display as he walks with a purpose towards Y/n who Yoongi shields behind his body. He's not as big as Namjoon but he knows how he is during his rut and how he'll feel afterwards if he hurts Y/n, he'll never forgive himself. 

"Easy Namjoon, you've been thrown into an early rut. Don't do anything you'll regret later." Yoongi warns gently, snarling at him his tail swaying pointedly and his ears pinned against his skull. The little hairs at the back of his neck stand on end and he hissed when Namjoon growled at him. "Take your hands off her, she's mine." He barks showing his sharp canines to the feline hybrid who only snarls and hisses right back at him, making everyone else in the room drop what they were doing and walk closer to the trio at the edge of the living room and kitchen.

"Namjoon seriously- you need to focus. Don't you see how much you're scaring our poor girl?" Y/n stands behind Yoongi her hands resting on top of his shoulders as she hides from him. Namjoon sees her frightened expression and he calms down once again but this time he's able to somewhat control himself. "I'm so sorry I- I di- I didn't mean to scare you like- I don't- fuck, I need some air."

The wolf quickly makes his way out onto the back deck over looking the wide open spaces of the ranch and clutches his shirt against his chest. He's trying to calm himself down the best he can- fighting off his primal urges to mate and breed. He has never been thrown into an early rut before and he can't imagine why his body is reacting this way and for a human. A single connection he swore off a long time ago. His ruts were never this consuming before unless-

Back inside the house the other six hybrids look directly at Y/n and sniff the air around her before they all back off. Jungkook covers his nose quickly and turns away and Taehyung completely bolts upstairs and slams the bedroom door shut with Hoseok and Jimin following close behind him with a second door slam. Yoongi and Seokjin have walked a few feet away from her to keep themselves from pouncing on her.

Y/n stood there bewildered by everyone's reaction to her and the scent that rolled off her body. She hesitantly lifted her arm and sniffed, she didn't smell bad at least to her own nose. She shrugged her shoulders and looked to the feline pair that were still inching away from her. 

"Seriously, do I smell that bad?" She waves her arms in the air and they quickly slump down to her sides and she goes to check on Namjoon but Jungkook stops her by grabbing her elbow and uncovering his mouth.

"I don't think that's such- a good idea right now." He mumbles his eyes blowing wide as he shuffles closer to her and his antlers bump against her shoulder as his head slumps against her and he starts babbling. She was confused like she normally is but she knows they can smell things that she can't- just what is it that made three of them run, two of them to shuffle away and one to become droopy and giggly laying against her shoulder.

"You're uh-"Seokjin begins to mumble and hot sort of pleasure coursing through his veins at her thick and gooey scent- almost like a bakery now. "You're ovulating...." Yoongi grumbles and quickly covers his nose and mouth with his shirt.

That's why they're avoiding her- that's why Namjoon was thrown into an early rut cycle so suddenly. Their animal instincts are telling them she's fertile and ready to be bred full of pups or cubs. Out of all the times her period could start it just had to be right now in the middle of all this chaos? Really mother nature?

Y/n didn't know what to do or where to even start. On one hand all the hybrids were doing their best not to jump her bones, although Jungkook was a little dumb and droopy at the moment.

On the other hand all she wanted to do was help them where she could. Fuck decisions like these were hard to make especially for Y/n when sex was involved.

After another moment of deep contemplation she decided on what she was going to do, there was a smaller house just a few yards from the main house. It was cottage-core style and very spacious with big bushes along the front and a few scattered wild flowers along the walkway with fairy lights above lighting the way.

Maybe they could use that as a rut house while they stayed here, it had all the things a hybrid would need for one thank the gods. Namjoon could get the help he needed without stinking up the house with his alpha wolf pheromones and the rest of them could navigate the bigger house with Y/n and her alluring scents. All they'd have to do is air the house out every once in a while and they should be fine- totally fine.

TAGLIST: @valpinkk @moonxxlover @meowforluv A/N: ..... Heh, yeah so remember in the last chapter I said things where gonna start getting serious? I might have over done it just a little bit... But that's okay- it's fine.

Jimin really needs to get his shit together by the next chapter just saying... Love is a fickle thing isn't it?

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (see full series here)

1993

The school year draws to a close, with the school still chattering away about Sirius. You spend it relatively simply, teaching the last of your classes and then finally handing out end-of-year exam results. You're glad to see Hermione gets an almost perfect score — and Ron and Harry do...well, they do okay. You make a mental note to start buckling down on their incessant chatting during class.

You also spend it full of worries. Your every waking moment seems to be consumed with thoughts about Sirius. He's out there, all alone, on the run — you can't imagine how he's feeling right now. It ties knots in your stomach. You just want to grab and hold him, caress his soft, smooth skin, run your hands through his silky curls —

You miss him.

You sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, flicking through the latest edition of The Quibbler. It's quite a unique little publication, very quirky. Luna Lovegood, one of your second years — her dad is the editor, so you decided to pick up the magazine after she recommended it to you once.

You're currently skim-reading a very in-depth article about some sort of creature called an 'epippinpor', when the door to your compartment slides open and Harry pokes his head inside.

"Harry!" you greet. "Need something?"

He holds out a folded piece of parchment, smiling. "Padfoot."

You take the parchment from him as he leaves, closing the door again. You beam excitedly, throwing down The Quibbler and pulling the parchment into your lap. Dubh gets up and starts to sniff the parchment curiously and you giggle, full of giddiness like you're a young teenager again.

My darling love,

I hope you get this before you've left Hogwarts, otherwise it may be quite some time before this letter reaches you. I decided to put your letter in with Harry's, because I'm sure your post is being monitored.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding, so you don't need to worry. I have so many questions to ask you, so many things to tell...I guess they'll just have to wait. I miss you, my love, just like you miss the stars during the daytime.

I hope I haven't lost my romantic flair.

Also, you're a professor now? Very professional, Professor Black. I suppose it does have a pretty sweet ring to it. And Astronomy, too? I'm still your favourite star, right?

You snort, rolling your eyes. Typical. You can just imagine his face when he wrote that: signature smirk, maybe a wink.

Can I get a kiss for that when we reunite again?

Typical!

I wish I could be with you this summer. At our home. Also...do you have a cat? I thought I saw you with a cat. Come on, love, we are obviously a dog home!

I miss you so much. I miss your voice, your warmth, your beautiful face, your kisses. Especially the last one. It's not easy to go twelve years without a single kiss...even if the Dementors offered me several. I love you with all of my heart. If you need me for anything, Harry's owl will find me. All my love, Sirius. P.S. I love you. I can't wait to see you again.

You smile at the letter, eyes tracing the edges of his scratchy handwriting. Your stomach is full of fluttering butterflies and it really does feel like you're a schoolgirl again. You re-read the letter several times, smiling especially wide when he says he loves you or compliments you.

No, Sirius. You didn't lose your romantic flair. Not one bit.

You reach out to pet Dubh, still holding the letter in your hand.

Maybe next year will be a little different.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"Here you go," you say, handing Remus his cup of tea. He accepts it, careful not to spill a drop, and gives you a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"So, any news?" You ask, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them in beside you as you look at the man in front of you. You're sitting in your living room, a wonderfully cosy little room, warmed by soft rays of August sunshine. There's green plants dotted around, and the walls have photos and beautiful paintings decorating it. There's even a few of Remus' original paintings up there!

One big hobby of Remus' is painting, though he is very secretive about it. He paints beautiful landscapes and still-lifes...it calms him.

One particular painting catches your eye. You had once asked him to paint you a nice, simple picture of pottery. A jug, a bowl, a plate...just general pottery works. It's quite nice.

Remus shrugs. "Nothing really since last we spoke. How are your parents?"

You stayed with your parents last week. Dubh had been put into Remus' care, as she always is, and she always comes back a little fatter than before because Remus is a big softie.

"They're grand, yeah," you reply with a shrug. "I told them everything that happened and honestly they were pretty nonchalant about it all, you know how they are...Mam thought I was very stressed and made me one of her special herbal teas and honestly, it was amazing. Felt young again."

"You are young," Remus says with a sigh.

"Sure don't feel it," you say bitterly. "Could do with a dose of that special tea every morning."

"So this tea isn't special?" Remus asks, gesturing to the cup in his hand.

"Not at all," you reply with a short chuckle. "I asked her what she puts in it, and she said it was an 'age-old secret only passed down when the last generation has ceased and the next lives on'. She's lying, of course, she's only saying that to be mysterious. I'm beginning to think that it's just the placebo effect."

Remus nods thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to trust your mother's words and say it is an age-old secret."

"Suck up."

He raises his mug and gives you a mocking smile. You sigh.

"And," you continue, "Dad took me to the muggle cinema, and we seen this film called 'Mrs Doubtfire'. Moony, when I tell you I sobbed — Merlin, muggles sure know how to make an emotional impact. I'm beginning to think that truly, wizards aren't better than muggles because they get to have cool films and we don't. It's unfair, really, if you think about it."

"'Mrs Doubtfire'? What was it about?" Remus asks.

"A woman called Mrs Doubtfire, obviously," you say and he rolls his eyes. "But turns out it's not actually a woman, it's this guy whose wife divorced him and can barely see his kids, so he pretends to be their babysitter and puts on a wig and a mask and fake tits and everything — "

"And that made you cry?"

"It was emotional! Then he gets caught and can only see the kids with someone supervising the visits! Isn't that sad, Moony? It's much sadder in the movie."

He raises his eyebrows, humming in weak agreement. "Right."

You scoff, sighing. "Anyway...Quidditch World Cup is coming up! And guess who's going?"

"You? No way, how did you get tickets?" Remus asks in shock.

You grin. "Minerva McGonagall, the gem that she is! Sent me a letter yesterday morning. Said she happened upon two tickets and asked me to go with her."

"I didn't know the two of you were such good friends."

You shrug. "Sometimes it can be a bit odd because she used to be my teacher, y'know — but she's such fun to be around. I mean, I've told you before that we have tea together sometimes."

He nods thoughtfully. "Mhm, yes, I remember."

"Anyway, I'm really looking forward to it! I wish I could bring you with me," you say with a small apologetic smile.

Remus waves you off. "It's a full moon. I daresay I might steal the spotlight off the teams if I attend."

You laugh. "That may be so."

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→→ read chapter fourteen here!

sorry for the extra-short chapter...just wanted to draw this year to a close. Goblet of fire next!!!

as always, a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their amazing kindness and support:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem

[integra1127grimmreaper]

Put a Spell On Me (Joel Miller)

Joel Miller Masterlist

Warning: swearing, grumpy Joel, bit of fluff

Summary: Joel sees another side of you whilst the town prepare for Halloween. Inspired by - Nina Simone's - I Put a Spell On You.

You hated Joel Miller, and he hated you, everyone around town knew it. Only thing was no one exactly knew when and how it started, only thing they knew was that glares, scowls and heated words would be exchanged whenever the two of you were in proximity to each other. So, when word went around that the two of you were heading out to the nearest mall together for supplies for the upcoming Halloween celebration, to say everyone was worried would be putting it lightly.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief only when finding out that Tommy would be going with, he always had to play referee whenever a disagreement broke out between Joel and you, and was the best candidate to ensure both of you returned home alive.

"Not sure why she had to come with…", Joel grumbles out softly to Tommy as they rode side by side, his gaze narrowed on your back as you rode a short distance in front of the two.

Tommy's head drops with yet another heavy exhale at Joel's dislike of you. "Like I told ya, she knows this place… used to work there part-time as a teenager before the world went to shit. Whenever we need something from it, she goes with, makes it much easier than going in blind."

"Coulda drawn a map", was all Joel utters back in response.

"Would ya quit acting like a child", Tommy scolds him. "I know ya don't like her and believe me, the feeling's mutual. At least she's attemptin' to be civil."

"Civil, my ass…", Joel utters under his breathe, causing Tommy to shoot a side glare in warning. Letting out a disgusted scoff, silently raising his hands up in surrender as the rest of the trip moves on in total silence thereafter.

"Seriously?", Joel snarls after you went directly to a specific store when entering the mall. "This is why we're here, Halloween decorations and costumes...?"

Not wanting to attract any unwanted guests by having yet another shouting match with Joel, you choose to ignore him. "This is the first big celebration we're havin'", Tommy does his best to defuse the situation before Joel pushes you too far, utter out with a wince then, "shoulda seen the sorry excuse for costumes the past Halloweens..."

"Hey!", your head pops out from a corner with defensive scowl. "We were too busy building the town to properly enjoy it." Pointing a finger in warning at him, "don't knock it-"

"Ok, ok...", Tommy chuckles at you, whilst Joel's only reaction was silent glare. "Ya done?", Tommy finally sobers up from his laughter.

"Yup", you nod, quickly retreating behind the corner only to reappear seconds later with large witch's hat on your head and the last bag of supplies.

Tommy instantly bursts out with a loud laugh, whilst Joel goes all bug-eyed; sarcastically drawling, "always knew ya were a witch... finally found ya long lost hat I see..."

Eyes narrowed; you point a finger at him in warning as you walk pass. "Careful Miller... before I cast a hex on ya."

"Alright, aright...", Tommy steps in when Joel bares his teeth at you. "We still got two more stores to hit then we're out."

Joel lets out a grunt in response, and you roll your eyes at him as you walk away.

"Where ya been the whole day?", Joel enquires of Ellie when entering the house in the evening.

"Went to Y/N's after school", Ellie responds after dropping her bag at the front door and removing her shoes and coat.

Joel's brows shoot up in surprise, "the Wicked Witch of the West...?"

"Don't call her that!", Ellie scolds him.

"Ya right...", Joel nods, a grin pulling at his lips, "more like, the Wicked Witch of Jackson."

"Joel!", Ellie reprimands him with a scowl, "if you got to know her properly, you'd realize that she's a very nice person."

"I know enough about her to know that she's a pain in the ass...", Joel drawls out in response, throwing himself down on the couch with a heavy grown.

Frowning at his words, Ellie takes a seat beside him. "Look man, I know you hate and all... but she's been nothing but nice to me. Which she really didn't have to be", she reminds Joel. "Not with the way you've been treating her."

Joel silently stares into Ellie's eyes for a few seconds. "She was right. No matter how you and Joel bickered, you never once turned that negativity towards Ellie. He had warned her off from you in the beginning, but Ellie was stubborn, and the girl had naturally gravitated towards you as time went on. Ellie was right... you weren't such a bad person at all."

Head dropping down with shame and sighing in defeat, Joel finally admits, "I don't hate her... just don't like her, that's all."

"Oh, that's fine then...", Ellie snorts out in amusement, flashing him a toothy grin, "'cause she doesn't like ya either."

"I can live with that", Joel gives his own snorted response, sitting up straight then. "So, what ya two been up to?"

"She's helping me with my Halloween costume!", Ellie exclaims, excitedly catapulting up from the couch to get her backpack. Settling back on the couch and hastily opening her sketch book to show Joel the design.

"She's making this for you...?", Joel stares at the design in surprise.

"Yup", Ellie beams proudly at it, "got the idea from a few of my comics. It's going to be awesome!"

"Bet she's going to make it look like shit", Joel snorts under his breath, suddenly yelping out in pain when Ellie elbows him in the side.

"Fuckin' rude much?"

"Sorry...", Joel rubs at his side, sheepishly muttering, "ol' habit."

A lightbulb goes off for Ellie then as she knowingly smirks at him then. "The two remind me of something I read a while back about 'young crushes'..."

Joel's eyes go all bug-eyed at her words, "the fuck that supposed to mean?"

"You know...", Ellie flashes him a full-on grin then. "When the boy and girl like each other but are too shy to admit it, so they end up being mean to one another instead."

"Well, your deductions about us are completely wrong", Joel slaps his palms on his thighs matter-of-factly as he gets up from the couch. "She doesn't like me, and I don't like her and that's the end of it."

"We'll see, Old Man...", Ellie snorts her breath, "we'll see..."

It was the early evening of the Halloween party and Joel was just minding his own business in the comfort of home, when suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Howdy...", Tommy greets upon the door opening, a cowboy atop his head and what looked to be a plastic sherif badge pinned to his shirt.

"What the hell ya wearing?", Joel frown at him.

"I'm the sherif the town, see...", Tommy beams, proudly pointing to the badge of his chest.

"Can see that...", Joel drawls in response, his gaze narrowing on the arm Tommy was hiding behind his back. "Whatcha got behind ya back...?"

With a toothy grin, Tommy presents another cowboy hat with a plastic badge inside from behind his back. "Ya just been deputized."

"Oh, hell no...!", Joel shakes his head in displeasure. "Ain't fuckin happening."

Tommy's shoulders sag in disappointment at hearing his response. "Aw, c'mon man... don't be a party pooper. She went out of her way to get these for us."

Joel scoffs, eyes narrowing when something hits. "Who...?"

Rolling his eyes, Tommy, shoots Joel an arched brow then. "You know exactly who."

"Why am I not surprised...", Joel throws heads back with a heavy groan, palming his face.

"It's not so bad...", Tommy chuckles at him. "Ya might even enjoy it. I know Ellie would love for ya to be there."

Bringing his back down, Joel peers through his spread fingers at Tommy for a second, finally lowering the hand and sighing, "she's been talking about it none stop, specially about her costume."

Tommy grins at his words, pausing to look around the house then. "Where's the kid, by the way?"

Exhaling heavily, Joel places his hand on his hips with a dramatic eyeroll. "Stormed outta here early morning to go over to 'her' place to do some final touches on the kid's costume."

"See...!", Tommy exclaims satisfactorily, shoving the hat into Joel's arms before bolting off, "now ya have to come. See ya later..."

"Wait!", a dumbstruck Joel attempts to call him back but was he was gone in an instant. Letting out a sigh of defeat, Joel's gazed drops to the hat and badge in his hand, "the hell I'm supposed to do with this?"

An hour or so later, Ellie comes rushing in through the door like a gust of wind. "Joel! Come see my costume!"

"Hold ya horses...", Joel came lumbering down the stairs, stopping dead in his tracts when seeing Ellie in her costume. "Whoa."

"Fuckin' awesome, I know...", Ellie proudly smiles at his reaction, twirling around to show every detail of the costume. "She did a great job, didn't she...?"

"I- um...", Joel's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water for some time, finally clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head in embracement. "Yeah, she did."

"Told ya so...", Ellie flashes him a smug grin and he grunts in response. "So, ya comin' to the party?"

"Not sure", Joel shrugs, throwing himself onto the couch with a weary sigh.

A little sad at it, Ellie nods in understanding though. "If ya do. Please promise me you'll be nice to her."

"She's the one that needs to be nice", Joel snorts under his breath.

"Seriously, dude?!", Ellie scowls at him. "At least try... she went out of her way to make me this costume. Even though she was helping the other kids with their costumes, mine was the only one she made from scratch."

Joel's head violently snaps in Ellie's direction, "really...?"

Ellie confirms with a head nod, "and she didn't have to, yet she did anyway", she makes sure to stress the topic. "Just for tonight... please be nice."

Throwing a hand of his face, Joel learns backward with a defeat sigh, "I'll be nice."

Joel silently stared at the hat in his hand, Ellie had left half an hour ago for the party and he was debating with himself about whether he should go or not. "It wouldn't hurt to show his face for an hour or so to show his support for Ellie. The kid was excited for her first ever Halloween party and he'd be asshole if he didn't go. Besides, he could take it as an opportunity to thank you for helping Ellie."

Releasing a tense breath, Joel anxiously straightens his cowboy hat when entering the Autumn theme decorated town hall. Children were excitedly running round in their costumes whilst adults were happily mingling amongst themselves. Silently studying the scene from the doorway, Joel's gaze finally lands on you; all dressed up and with the witch's hat on that you had found at the mall. Your back was toward him but instantly knew it was you.

"See ya dusted ya old uniform off to wear tonight", Joel tauntingly remarks from behind you.

Turning around with a hoity arched brow, you slowly scan him from head to toe and flashing him a syrupy smile then. "Fancy seeing you here, Officer..."

The smug smile on Joel's face instantly disappears, "don't start..."

Placing your hands on your hips, you glare at him, "ditto."

Realizing that this could potentially turn into another argument, Joel changes the topic. "About Ellie-"

"I know ya told me to stay away from ya kid...", you interrupt him midsentence. "She approached me though, and besides that, I was in charge of the kids' costumes, so I obviously couldn't turn her away."

You anxiously wait for a sarcastic remark or something in response as Joel silently frowned at your words, finally giving a head nod, moments later and just as he's about to open his mouth to say something, someone calls out for your help. "Excuse me", you comment, turning around and walking off. You don't make it far though, when Joel finally speaks up.

"Wait!"

Halting in your tracks, you turn back towards him. "Your costume looks nice", Joel manages to awkwardly utter out, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

"I- Um...", your words stumble over each other. "Thank you...?", your response finally comes out as a question instead due to being caught off-guard by Joel's compliment. "I-I... have to go...", you awkwardly point over your shoulders, dumbstruck by the entire situation.

A faint smirk crosses Joel's lips as he nods. "Bye...", you manage to stammer out before hightailing it.

The smirk turns into a full-on grin as Joel watched you rush away. "Maybe you weren't as bad as he thought, you were actually quite adorable when shy. Maybe there was a good side to you that he just never really bothered to get to know. Maybe Ellie was right... maybe he should start being nicer to you. Or... maybe you really did put a hex on him...?"

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-n-duh-duh-uah You better stop the things you do

I ain't lying No, I ain't lying

You know I can't stand it You're running around You know better, daddy I can't stand it 'Cause you put me down Yeah, yeah

I put a spell on you

Because you're mine

You're mine

Yeah, yeah Oh yeah

I put a spell on you

Because... you're mine...

NXT

[dontexpectmuch]

anything with jude x really sensitive reader I BEG OF YOU (maybe he gives her a silent treatment and she starts crying because of it) it's okay if you don't want to do it, dw <3

jude was aware that it wasn’t your fault, he knew that he was treating you unfairly, but he just couldn’t help it. losing the first game of the season really took a toll on him, crushing his hopes of having a completely clean sheet.

the worst thing, though, was seeing you standing there, with an apologetic smile facing him as you waited for him after the game to drive back to his place. he knew that you only meant well, that you just wanted to show him that you understand him, but at that moment he just felt really mad, at the result, his teammates, himself, just everything, sadly you being also included in the reasons for his anger.

so, jude did what he always does when things don’t go the way he wanted to, he simply shut off. meaning, completely ignoring you and his mother, the both of you helplessly trying to cheer him up as best you could. now, with the two of you in his room, you sitting on his couch and him silently laying on his bed as the scrolled through the content that was displayed on his phone, you nervously thought about ways to talk to your boyfriend.

but, whenever you tried to speak up, a lump would form in your throat, scared of the nthed rejection of the day. you told jude multiple times before that you really did not like it to receive the silent treatment, as it was something your parents would and sometimes still do to you, to punish you whenever something wasn’t going their way. it made you feel small, unworthy of being noticed and triggered this huge amount of sadness and insecurity inside of you. just sitting in complete silence with jude was awful, especially if you wanted to hug him and tell him that he tried his very best, that he was your player of the match and what not.

“would you like some tea, maybe?” you asked him, voice gentle and cautious while your eyes mustered his figure, hoping to see changes in his mood. instead, you were once again left in complete silence.

sighing, you get up and leave his room, closing the door behind you as you go downstairs to spend time with his mother. “no changes?” she asks when you sit down on in the living room, shaking your head silently.

“i,” you began, shakiness vivid in your voice, “i told him many times that i don’t like the silent treatment, that he should rater talk to me or someone instead of doing this, like, it just makes me feel so,” you stopped without finishing your sentence, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“oh my baby.” his mum sits closer to you, rubbing your back, trying to comfort you as much as she could, “jude seems to be mature for his age, but he still is a teenager. he will bet mad at unnecessary stuff and behave like a child.” she states, pulling your head in to rest at her upper body as her hand rested in top of your head.

“i really try to understand him, denise, but, he knows, you know? he knows that i am sensitive to that and he, i don’t want to blame him, i understand him so well, just, i don’t even know.” you try to explain your point, slowly calming down and pulling back as you look at her nodding.

“give him some time, okay? he’ll get his act together after living out his dramatics after a bit.” hearing her say that made you laugh a bit, knowing that jude really was a drama queen.

you stayed with his mother downstairs, helping her prepare dinner and just talking about random topics. after an hour or two passed you heard jude entering the kitchen, guilt written all over his face. as if he telepathically communicated with his mum, asking her to leave the two of you alone for a bit, she excused herself, saying something about calling her husband.

“love.” jude starts, pulling you in his arms and resting his head on yours, “‘m really sorry, just was mad at everything and took it out on you.” he apologized, softly swinging your bodies from side to side.

“i told you before that i don’t like the silent treatment, jude.” you tell him, pulling out of his arms and crossing your arms infront of you. the hurt in your voice made judes heart ache, he knew that you were quite sensitive about it, yet he let his anger take control and hurt you in the process.

as he opened his mouth, wanting to apologize again, your voice came out first, “but, i understand you, i really do and i’m not mad at you or anything. i’d just like it if we could talk next time? or, i don’t know, do something, i don’t want you to be sad.”

immediately agreeing with your point jude shakes his head, “of course, i know that it was unfair of me taking it out of you, babe, i’ll talk next time or something.”

“thank you, love.” now smiling at your boyfriend, you step back into his arms, head resting on his chest, “but you’re still a teenager, being mad at something is normal, please don’t think that you don’t have the right to express your emotions.”

“i won’t.” jude whispers back, savoring the feeling of you inside his arms.

having you try to understand him the best you could and being there for him when he needed you the most was probably one of the biggest blessings in his life, he wouldn’t let it go to waste that easily.

——————————

purrrr

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Teenage Dreams (13 going on 30 AU) - part 5

Eddie Munson x Reader

<- Previous Part Next Part ->

Word Count:2,200

SERIES MASTERLIST

Masterlist // Eddie Munson Masterlist

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

There’s a quiet natter around the board room table, with all of your co-workers discussing their next big headline or article for Star Magazine.

“Taking the reins:How to be more dominant in life (and the bedroom!)”

“Summer’s hottest bikini styles to cause a splash”

“15 ways to drive your man wild in bed”

Michael stalks around the room, and suddenly everyone falls quiet as they wait to hear what he has to say.

“There’s no easy way to say this, so I suppose I’m just going to come out with it.” he huffs before continuing. “The numbers are in and it isn’t looking good, we’re falling just below 500,00 issues of Star Magazine in total circulation. Diamond Magazine, however much it pains me to say this, are closing in on close to a million.” 

There’s muffled whispers that scatter between everyone at the table until Michael speaks up again.

“I just got off the phone with corporate and there has been talk of a redesign.”

“You want to redesign Star Magazine? Diamond Magazine does almost everything we do, and we’re the ones that have to redesign?” comes the disgruntled reply of one of your colleagues.

“Either we redesign and try to boost our readership, or they pull the plug and we’re all out of a job.”

“But redesigning our magazine could be a death sentence.” Nancy chimes in.

“No, Nance, it doesn't have to be that way. It’s a chance to have some fun and really shake things up around here. Diamond magazine can have all our second-hand, cast-off ideas, we can do a complete overhaul here, and prove to everyone that Star Magazine still has some sparkle left.” you say, piping up from your seat.

Michael comes up by your side with a wide smile.

“It’s refreshing to see some enthusiasm around here for once. It sounds like you’ve got it all figured out, Y/n. I’ll be leaving this is yours and Nancy’s very capable hands, and trusting my dynamic duo to come up with something new and fabulous.”

As you walk out of the boardroom you spot Nancy in the corner whispering to one of her co-workers. Perhaps it’s wrong of you to eavesdrop on conversations that you weren’t a part of, but nonetheless you hang back, just out of sight of Nancy’s gaze.

“..And I need you to hire the best photographer, and I do not want Y/n to find out about this.”

“Understood, Ms.Wheeler.” 

“I mean I don’t even know what’s going on with her anymore, but I’m getting real tired of this whole new act that she’s putting on all the time. We need to go ahead with our own presentation, and let Y/n fall on her ass like the loser she is.” Nancy giggles cruelly.

Suddenly it’s like you’re back to being thirteen years old again, hanging out with the popular girls, thinking they’re your friends, only to find out the harsh truth, that they’re all laughing at you behind your back.

 You walk through the door of your apartment after work, slumping down onto the sofa. The gnawing pit of upset and embarrassment eating away at you. If that was how Nancy felt about you, then surely that was how everyone felt about you. Maybe you were some ditzy loser who had ideas above her station, and maybe you were to blind to see that everyone else could see right through you.

As you pull your knees up and hug the couch cushion to your chest, you suddenly feel so alone and isolated. No, you were not about to let Nancy win, there would be no more sad moping around for you. You find your feet taking you across the city to the only other apartment you felt safe being in.

You knock your fist against the dark wood door of Eddie’s apartment, silently praying to yourself that he was in.

To your relief the door swings open and there he was. The reassuring brown eyes of your best friend.

“Sorry to drop in on you un-announced like this, but do you wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure.” Eddie nods with a smile, sliding on his leather jacket.

You walk beside each other, down the streets as you fall into step with Eddie.

“So you’re getting married huh?” you ask, hoping to break the silence between you.

“Yeah, in a little over two weeks now.” Eddie replies, his eyes cast down on the pavement as he scuffs his sneakers as he walks.

“So Chrissy’s like your soulmate, right? That’s why you’re marrying her?”

“I don’t know if I believe in soulmates, I think that’s kind of a childish concept.” he says honestly.

“But you get butterflies whenever you’re around her, don’t you?” you pry. 

“I don’t think I’ve gotten butterflies about anyone since high-school.” he laughs softly.

There’s so much that’s happened between you now that you’ve both grown up, different lives taking different paths.

“What happened to us, Eddie?” you sigh, your footsteps halting in the street. “I mean, how come we never stayed friends?

“Okay, so we’re having one of those kinds of talks.” he says as he nods over to a nearby bench, motioning for you to sit beside him. “I guess things kind of fell apart right after your thirteenth birthday party. You were shoved into the closet..”

“Yeah, then everybody ditched me like yesterday’s leftovers.” you finish. “That’s the last thing that I remember.”

“Look, we don’t have to get into this, it was such a long time ago, right? I mean, it hardly even matters anymore.”  Eddie says, picking at the loose threads of the hole in his dark jeans.

“It matters to me, Eddie. Please just tell me what happened.” you plead.

“Well, I let you out of the closet, and I was going to play you your birthday song on the guitar, but you, and with quite the impressive amount of force for a thirteen-year-old girl might I add, threw at me the princess castle that I had spent weeks putting together for you.” he huffs quietly, running a hand through his dark curls. “After that you just stopped being my friend, so I took the hint, and we never really spoke to each other after that.” He looks so hurt just from remembering what happened, his big brown eyes suddenly without their usual joy-filled sparkle.

You feel awful. How could you have been so cruel and uncaring to the boy who was your only friend in the world. The guilt hits you and you feel your heart sink into the pit of your stomach.

“It’s fine, let’s just forget about it. It was a long time ago, it doesn’t matter.” Eddie brushes off.

 “Stop being so nice to me Eddie. I don’t deserve it.” you mumble, shaking your head. “I don’t have any real friends, I’m pretty sure everyone hates me, I don’t talk to my mom and dad. I’m not a nice person, and the thing is..I’m not the girl I used to be, I’m not thirteen anymore, Eddie.” you say, your voice shaking with emotions.

You get up from the bench, needing to just get away. To walk away from Eddie, and away from the guilt and upset. It all feels like too much for you to deal with. You can’t look at him, because all you can see is the big sad brown eyes of the thirteen year old boy that you shut out of your life.

The next day you buy yourself a train ticket that takes you away from the city all the way back to your small town neighbourhood.

The bustling life of the busy city soon passes by your window, changing into green fields that whizz by like a blur.

You can’t help but look at the group of young girls who laugh and chatter quietly amongst themselves, and think about the young girl that you used to be, about the woman that you are now, and what happened in the in-between years. Were you ever going to be able to go back to the way things used to be? Or was this how your life was to be from now on?

You let yourself into your childhood home, the key clicking into the lock easily. The house was quiet, as you stepped through the threshold. You look around, and it’s almost as if nothing has changed, not a single cushion, picture frame, nor silly little knick-knack was out of place. 

Wandering down to the downstairs basement you come face to face with the dark door of the supply closet that Nancy and her gaggle of minions had locked you in all those years ago.

You sit down on the floor inside the closet, closing the door behind yourself, hugging your knees to your chest, as the heaviness in your heart spills over and the tears stream silently down your cheeks.

I just want things to go back to the way they were. You wish, closing your eyes and lean your head back against the shelves behind you with a soft ‘thunk’

Suddenly the door swings open, and there in the doorway is your mother.

“I missed you so much.” you sob, throwing your arms around her and crying into her shoulder.

“Oh darling,” she coos softly, rubbing her hand up and down your back. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

After spending the night unrestfully trying to sleep in your childhood bedroom, you shuffle downstairs to the kitchen where your mother is already up and preparing breakfast.

“Come on down, darling, I hope you're hungry! I’m making pancakes.” she smiles as she sets down a small stack of pancakes drizzled in syrup and decorated with a generous scattering of strawberries and blueberries in front of you.

You cut yourself off a piece to enjoy before taking a sip of your orange juice and then set your glass on the table as your mother sits opposit you at the kitchen table, her cup of coffee billowing little trails of steam in her hands.

“If you were given the opportunity to do-over anything in your life, anything at all, what would it be?” 

“It’s a little for philosophical questions like that, don’t you think honey?”

“Mom, please.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing, nothing at all.” she smiles, sipping from her mug.

“Really? You never made a big mistake, like something that ended up changing your life?

Your mother shakes her head at you before answering your question.

“Well, I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I don’t regret making them. If I never made the mistakes in the first place, I would never have learned from them. Making mistakes is what life is about, and if you think you can go through life without making mistakes, then I’m sorry, but you’re not living life right.”

You nod, finally seeing your mom’s point of view. Something that thirteen year-old you would have scoffed and laughed at.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around too much recently, mom.” you mumble hanging your head down.

Your mother reaches across the table to take your hand.

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Back in the city, after staying with your parents for a few days, you’re in your apartment pouring over your old high-school yearbook.

You look at all the photos, and see a picture of Eddie and his band performing at the school’s end-of-year show. He looks in his element, frizzy hair haloing around him, and his hands are working the strings of his black and red guitar to perfection. The rest of the band all looks amazing, but Eddie as the centrepiece of the picture is what captures your imagination. Suddenly you know what you have to do to save Star Magazine.

Underneath nearly all of the pictures in the yearbook is a little credit to the head school’s photography club, Jonathan Byers. He had been a quick fling of Nancy Wheeler’s back in the day before she ditched him when she decided being seen hanging out with him was tainting her ‘cool girl’ image. 

You’d personally never had a problem with him, quite the opposite really, he was always very kind and sweet to you, and although your paths never crossed all that much, you often gave him a smile and a little wave as you passed each other in the halls. 

Racing to reach for your little black book of phone numbers, you desperately hope that the number you have listed under Jonathan’s name still works.

Putting the phone to your ear, you listen as it rings a few times before it picks up.

“Hello?” the voice on the other end answers cautiously.

 “Jonathan, it’s me Y/N, from high-school!”

“Y/N? Yeah I remember you! What can I do for you?”

“I need a guy who’s good with a camera, do you think you can help me out?”

“I think I might know a guy, yeah” he laughs down the line. “You just tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, I knew I could rely on you!”

If Star Magazine wanted a rebrand, then a rebrand they were going to get.

@paybacksawitch @penguinsandpotterheads @mrsjellymunson

@ali-r3n @aphrogeneias @eddiesxangel

@munsonology @onegirlmanytales @xxbimbobunnyxx

@optimisticallygarbage @nailbatanddungeon

[the-camp-half-blood-library]

Our Top Ten PJO Fics

(In no particular order)

1. Threshold by decayaslife -

Even when Bianca lives, she still leaves him. Nico loses his sister in every universe, in this one he gains a home.

2. Missing, Presumed Dead by Deerlie_03 -

Jake Peralta brings the teenager to the precinct on a day that should be like any other. Then he spends the next few years trying to unravel the mystery that is Perseus Jackson. Why exactly does the kid know so many missing people? (A Brooklyn nine-nine crossover)

3. Class of 2013 by nolongersun -

Leo is only a few months old, and while he hasn’t experienced most of what life has to offer just yet, he gets the experience of learning what it feels like to be placed in a hearth by someone who will never know what it’s like to die, to be placed into the burning flames so gently with care by hands so divine in their cruelty. It is the first blessing he ever receives.

4. The Amazing Rhyming Talent of Nico di Angelo by nikkiRA -

And that is how the entire camp found out that Will Solace had cursed Nico di Angelo to speak in rhyming couplets, so by the time Will opened the door with an angry glint in his eye and a bitter smile on his face, half the camp was standing around the Apollo cabin, while the other half were on their way. (Has one of the best podfics out there by micha_making_podfics on ao3)

5. youth blossoming under the sun by bai_cai -

This is how it begins: two young gods tousling in the shade of a giant olive tree, laughing like they are children again. Warm-tempered Jason, the golden gift of Hera and bright-spirited Perseus (call me Percy, please, he says often to anyone who’ll listen), the beloved, salt-kissed son of the sea god. The two of them are many things—youths nearing the peak of their primes, godlings cast in gold and bronze, a son of Zeus and a son of Poseidon. But here, in this corner of the human world, the only thing they need to be is friends.

6. Debut by Gates_of_Ember -

At six years old, Will is finally wearing grown-up attire like his father and older brothers and is old enough to attend public events, just in time for his aunt’s inauguration. But Pluto is cold, his clothes are stiff and itchy, and the long journey in the carriage left Will sore, tired, and grumpy. Just when Will starts to think that he’ll remain miserable for the rest of his life, his aunt introduces him to someone very special. (The first fic in a very long, very good series. Definitely recommend the entire series.)

7. Only a glimpse into the lives we lead by laurellins -

With all the wars and prophecies finally compete Will decides to take up his mom’s offer to return home for the school year for the first time since he was nine. After everything he’s been through it’s a little strange to go back to the mortal world once again, and people in his town take notice of how different he seems. Or… A series of interconnected one-shots of people from Will’s hometown noticing there’s something different about him throughout the one year he spends going to school in the mortal world.

8. Hope Keeps Me Coming Back by andromeda_sunshine -

When Nico di Angelo learned he was a demigod he couldn't have been more excited but for all this knowledge gains him, he quickly loses so much more. Isolated and alone, he struggles to find his place in the world, understand his past, and come to terms with his future. As he travels across realms, between camps, and even across worlds, he never quite feels like he belongs, nowhere feels like home. But maybe home is the one place he keeps coming back to. A series rewrite from Nico's perspective.

9. Camp Half-Blood Incident Reports by the cabinsixenby -

Each year, Will goes through the camp incident reports. He’s picked out a few of his favorites. (Open to requests)

10. if you were drowned at sea, i would give you my lungs so your could breathe by Caora -

Sally crouched down in front of where Nico sat on the couch, and smiled warmly at him. “Percy tells me you don’t have a place to stay at the moment,” she said, gentle and non-judgemental. Nico shot Percy an accusatory glare, but he annoyingly didn’t baulk at the daggers Nico was sending him, nor did he show any regret in telling Sally about his personal life. “I’m fine.” “A brave, independent kid like you? I’m sure you are.” Sally’s praise shouldn’t have pleased him as much as it did, and Nico had to physically stop himself from preening. When was the last time he had received a compliment from a parental figure? “But... if you’re looking for a place you can use as a homebase, there is plenty of space for you here.” (Canon divergent AU in which Nico moves in with Percy, Sally, and Paul post-BOTL)

Got a favorite that you didn't see on this list? Let us know!

[ae-azile]

Emergence (Working Title): Fadel/Style, Kant/Bison Fic Preview

Link to first two fics in series:

Part 1: At Least We're Not on this Dark Road Alone (Fadel/Style)

Part 2: Through the Deep Waters (Kant/Bison, side Fadel/Style)

Style met Kant and Babe right after their parents died. Their uncle had been friends with Pa since they were kids. Pa even went on a few dates with Kant’s ma when they were teenagers. Despite Style meeting Kant when he was nine, it honestly surprising they hadn't met sooner in life. But once they did, they hung out all the time. Other than Boonterm, Kant and Babe are the closest thing Style has had to siblings.

But still, he has never been under the assumption that Kant or Babe share the same sentiment. They have both faced a lot of loss, but they have each other. Style understands that he does not compare in the scheme of things. He's a close friend to them, maybe a cousin metaphorically. While the trip down here this morning had been oddly beautiful, meaningful, and peaceful, Style knew he might have to tear every single bit of the trust he built with Fadel down if he found out Bison went through with killing Kant. If Bison killed Kant, Style would never be able to let that go.

Relief washes over him when he sees Kant sleeping on the couch. He looks exhausted, and his eyes look slightly puffy, as if he has been crying. That throws Style off enough. He's only seen Kant cry a few times, and he remembers the circumstances of every time he witnessed.

- Kant cried over missing his parents on his first birthday without them.

- He cried when his uncle died.

- He cried when Ma died. She was very present and kind to Kant and Babe. It probably felt like losing a mother all over again.

- Style didn't see it in person, but Kant called him while Style was visiting his father’s cousins up north. Kant was embarrassed and ashamed over a panic attack he had at Babe’s family swimming event. Style tried his best to be comforting, but he inevitably ended up trying even harder to lighten the mood. Although, that is the good thing about Kant. He is one of the few who seems to appreciate that.

- Kant also cried when Boonterm died. Kant and Babe loved him too. They helped Style with the funeral.

The last four circumstances happened all within the same year, with Boonterm’s death being at the tail end of a horrible one for all of them. Although, Kant didn't realize just how horrible it really was for Style. Kant never liked Gun and would say as much. He was pretty critical over Gun dating a seventeen year old when he was twenty-four. But Style just dismissed it as Kant deciding to be oddly protective. When Kant’s instincts about Gun and whatever less than noble ulterior motives he had ended up being right, Style felt embarrassed and played. That's why he didn't tell Kant about what happened at the party until four years later. They both drank on Style’s twenty-first birthday and it wasn't a planned confession, but drunken, twenty-one Style must have deemed it as the perfect time to finally tell someone what had happened to him besides Boonterm.

Kant had tears in his eyes as Style managed to keep the story to-the-point and nonchalant. He didn't cry, or else that instance would have made the list. Kant did, however, punch a wall, pace the room with anger, and demand that Style tell him where Gun was.

Gun moved to Phuket a month after Style broke up with him. He got a job in maintenance at one of the resorts. He never planned on staying with Style. Occasionally, Style checks where he is in life. When he checked six months ago, Gun had a wife and son and was recently promoted to general manager at one of the nicer resorts in the area. He and Fadel almost passed it. When Style saw a road sign for it, he decided to take Fadel on a detour and show him the overlook instead.

Of course, he didn't tell Fadel the full reason for the detour, just like he never told Kant about Gun’s whereabouts. All he has told either of them is that Gun is no longer a problem. Kant has seemed to let it go, although he did bug him for a while about getting the names of the other people who participated. Kant stopped when Style started shutting down whenever it was brought up, and then just tried to be more present and caring for a while.

So despite Kant likely not seeing him as a brother, Style knows he cares about him. Style would go as far as to say that Kant loves him. He assumes Kant will be happy to see him, considering their circumstances.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” Style says, gently tapping Kant’s shoulder. When Kant’s eyes pop open and he turns his head to look at him, Style gives him a smile.

“Hey!” Style says, “Fadel and I thought we would come visit. We’re about to make lunch-”

Style is cut off by a gut wrenching sound, followed by Kant sitting up, throwing his arms around Style’s waist, and sobbing into his shirt.

It's a new bullet point for the list. But unlike the rest of the bullet points, Style is sort of lost when it comes to the reason.

“Did you miss me that much?” Style asks, awkwardly patting Kant’s back, “What’s the matter? You don't cry over me! You cry over death and occasionally when you feel needlessly inadequate. That's it! I keep track.”

But Kant doesn't answer. If anything his cries get worse as his hold around Style tightens.

Okay. Now he's concerned.

“Hey,” Style says, abandoning the awkward patting and becoming more soothing with the physical comfort, “Kant. What's wrong? Are you worried about Babe? If you are, don't be. I called Pa. He picked Babe up, so he's staying over at my house with him. Babe is fine, Pa is fine, even the cat is fine! Babe took him too! Pa sent Fadel a picture of him cuddled up on his lap if you want to see-”

“You were dead!”

Style glances down at Kant incredulously, “Nuh-uh. I never died once. I would remember something like that! You know my memory, Kant. It's impeccable. On the way down here, I was showing Fadel how good it is-”

“Fadel killed you!” Kant sobs, before lifting his head to look up at him. When Style meets his eyes, Kant immediately becomes inconsolable again and presses his face into Style’s stomach.

“Kant,” Style says, trying to get him to sit back up, “Hey. Hey, look at me! I'm fine. Maybe you had a really bad dream-”

Kant shakes his head, keeping himself firmly in place, “B-Bison said Fadel…It's my fault. It's all my fault. I dragged you into this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It’s my fault it's my fault it's my-”

“Kant,” Style says again, becoming slightly more forceful as he puts just enough space between them so that he can sit on the couch next to him, “Snap out of it. Don't make me do something stereotypical and cruel, like slap you across the face. Neither of us want that, just like neither of us are dead! I'm so happy you're okay.”

Even though Kant seems the opposite of okay right now.

“We’re both fine. Understand?” Style asks.

Kant shakes his head, “No.”

Well, Style understands. Their boyfriends love them too much to ever kill them. If Kant wasn't still finding a way to produce a fresh round of tears, Style would gush about how he is madly in love with Fadel. He would talk about how much closer they got last night, despite sex not even being a factor. He may also tell him that he feels inspired by the wedding he officiated, and that it made him want to propose. Not just as a joke where he coughs up his own ring. He wants to do it for real. He loves him he loves him he loves him he loves him-

“B-Bison said Fadel killed you,” Kant gets out, snapping Style from his obsessive thoughts, “He said that Fadel made it painless, but that you died. I pulled you into this. It's my fault-”

“How is something that didn't even happen your fault?” Style says, then lightly shoves Kant’s shoulder before gesturing at himself, “Look at me, man. How could Fadel stop this body’s heartbeat? It would be impractical of him. It's too easy on the eyes, and he gets too much enjoyment out of it! Not in his best interest. Style is here to stay.”

Style thinks that will lighten the mood. For a moment, it works. Kant’s face goes lax as he processes what Style is telling him. However, that only lasts for a few seconds before Kant’s expression screws up again.

What happened to him? Kant has never cried over him, and that is something Style knows for a fact due to his list. Maybe some of Kant’s grief for Ma was also for him since he knew Style was going through a loss Kant himself had already experienced pretty intimately himself. And Style does remember Kant getting teary after he finally told him about Gun, but he was never sure if that was because he was that upset over it happening, Style keeping it from him for as long as he did, or because he cracked a bone in his hand when he punched the wall.

This is very different. It's starting to make Style uncomfortable and worried. He isn't worth all this angst. But Kant doesn't seem capable of just moving past it, so Style supposes they’ll need to talk through it.

“Give me a second,” Style says, standing back up, “I'm going to tell Fadel to get started on the food and that I will come in to help once you're calmer-”

“Don't,” Kant chokes out, grabbing onto his arm, “I don't want you around him.”

Style tsks at that, “Don't deprive me of my man!”

“Style, please.”

“He's NOT going to kill me,” Style says, “He thought he had to because of the snitch stuff-”

“You aren't the snitch. I am,” Kant says hoarsely, “Tell him to kill me.”

Style groans at that, “Fadel isn't killing anyone. I promise. He believed me when I explained our situations. He tried to let me go last night, so I had to handcuff myself to the bed. And then we bore our hearts to each other. Not even our bodies, despite how tempting that was! I have never loved someone like I love him and I will never love anyone else ever again.”

“Huh?” Kant asks eloquently.

“I miss him!” Style wails, trying to pull out of Kant’s grasp, “I need to see him! It’s been ten minutes!”

“Style, stop!”

Style drops the act that actually isn't an act at all and turns to face him, “I'll be back. Fadel is expecting me to cook with him. I need to tell him that you need my support.”

With that, Style successfully twists out of Kant’s grasp and jumps out of range before running to the kitchen.

“I had him dig up crabs,” Bison says, gesturing towards the crabs crawling around in the bucket, “Just cook those.”

Fadel stares at them for a moment before shaking his head, “I told you that I'm done killing.”

Bison sputters at that, “They're crabs.”

Fadel doesn't seem to feel the need to explain himself. Good. He shouldn't have to. Style greatly prefers Fadel redirecting his attention and focusing on Style instead. His eyes go soft in a way that is still so foreign to him, even though Style saw hints of that softness during the few mornings they woke up together and at the concert they went to.

…As well as when Fadel was going over the top with the sweetness while he was planning on killing Style.

But now, the sweetness isn't filtered or an alleged act. He's a beautiful, sincere, and sexy teddy bear. Beautiful, sincere, and sexy teddy bears don't belong in prison at all. Style wishes the cop who was forcing Kant to work for him could be here now. He'd drop all the charges immediately because of how cute and sweet Fadel is.

Style knows that won't happen. They’ll need to get crafty to free Fadel and Bison from this mess. Luckily, Style now knows he is willing to do anything. He’ll pack Pa, Babe, and Kant up so they can go on the run. He’ll kill Lilly with his bare hands. He’ll plant evidence on someone innocent of Fadel’s and Bison’s crimes, but still someone who is a total dick and deserves it. He’ll even discredit that stupid, annoying cop by doing the same thing, or maybe seduce him, film the encounter, and blackmail him.

Fadel hated that last idea. He wouldn't talk to him for close to half an hour once Style mentioned that as a possibility. It's not like Style would enjoy it. He would hate sleeping with him, actually, especially knowing how this cop has been using Kant. But Style just focused on the drive, gave him time to cool off, and Fadel was completely over it by the wedding.

Doesn't Fadel realize that Style would only seduce an asshole detective to ensure they can get married one day too?

“What's up?” Fadel asks, bringing Style’s planning to a halt. He puts it to the side for now, walks right behind where Fadel is sitting, and bends over to put his arms around him.

“I love you,” Style mumbles, nuzzling his cheek against Fadel’s.

Fadel leans into the touch before turning his head to kiss Style’s cheek, “I love you.”

“What did you do to my brother?” Bison asks, his voice hard.

Style doesn't compute the question at first. He and Fadel are too busy rubbing their noses together and trying not to give into making out in front of Bison. It's only when Bison slams his fist on the table that Style stands up straight.

“That isn't the question that needs to be asked,” Style says before pointing a finger at him, “I have a better question: What did you do to my best friend?”

Going by the way Bison can't quite meet his eyes, Style knows he isn't going to like the answer.

[rustingcat]

Lavender

"I feel like I'm more surprised than I should've been," Alex said as she took another swing from her beer.

"What do you mean?" Kara asked, taking a fistful of popcorn from the bowl.

Kara was at Alex's place for their weekly sister's night. Kelly and Esme were visiting James out of town while Alex had to stay for work. Kara used that opportunity to come out to her sister, telling her about her newly discovered feelings for Lena.

"I mean, well. Kara, you decided to have babies with her." Alex pointed out.

"Yes, but as friends." She explained.

"You moved in together!"

"It would be easier with the kids–"

"Do you hear yourself?"

"I–" saying all of that out loud did sound a bit weird. "Okay, so what does it mean? Did I like her like that before I knew I liked her like that?"

"Yes. Probably." Alex nodded and took another sip.

"How would I not know such a big thing about myself?" It didn't make sense.

"I mean, I didn't come out until a few years ago, it's a very normal thing to happen. Feelings are complicated." Alex said. She seemed a bit nervous, as she had much more to say.

"But it's not like I was against the idea, it wasn't really an issue on Krypton and you know that it was never a problem with you. It just didn't cross my mind!" She had nothing about the idea of being queer, she just didn't think about it much.

"Well you did act a bit weird when I first told you about it." Alex leaned forward, studying Kara's face as if she was looking for a reaction.

"What? No, I didn't! I was just a bit surprised. I just didn't think you'd be gay." She quickly explained, putting the popcorn down back on the table.

Alex took another swing from her beer and studied Kara for a moment. There was something in her eyes that Kara couldn't discern.

"You started dressing differently recently." Alex said, catching Kara off guard.

"What?"

"You're back to slacks and button downs, though you still have some tank tops and better fitting shirts."

"What does that have to do with anything?" She inquired.

"It's just, you seem more comfortable with your clothes."

"Um.. yes?" Kara wasn't sure where she was going with this.

"It wasn't until recently I think that I finally got it."

"Got what, Alex?"

"It was thanks to Esme. We talked about it briefly after I first adopted her. She had a lot of trouble fitting in even after a while. She's been through so much and was forced to hide her powers since she was born. You know, she's a very opinionated kid, yet I started to notice that she was holding herself back, she was so afraid to pick the stuff she wanted sometimes, it was heartbreaking to see. It made me think about you."

Kara swallowed hard. She wanted to say; how so? But found she couldn't bring herself to do it. As if she wasn't sure what Alex was getting to, but also part of her felt it deep in her bones. She was rendered speechless.

"Since you landed on earth, since your whole world fell apart, you were drilled how much you needed to suppress yourself. Instead of exploring yourself and finding new ways to express yourself in different ways, you spent your teenage years forced to swallow down everything that made you unique, everything that made you you. And even after you came out as Supergirl you started to slowly suppress yourself more as Kara, and I still just–" Alex took a moment to breathe, she seemed to have struggled with tears. 

Alex wasn't one to cry. Even when Jeremiayah was pressumed dead she barely saw her cry, she did hear her sobs when she was hiding in a corner of the house and thought no one could see. Kara didn't know how to react back then, but she was closer with her sister now and didn't hesitate to scoot over on the couch and put a hand around her as she continued to talk. A talk Kara was still trying to process herself.

"It's not just the clothes, you started to walk differently, carried yourself more lightly in some sense. I really started to notice the change after you decided to fully come out and made the step to let yourself really be yourself. And–" she closed her eyes trying to blink away a tear. "I'm so sorry about everything I did, or said that ever made you hide yourself."

"Alex you have nothing to apologise for." She put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Yes I do. Kara, I said some terrible things to you. Things that I regret so much and I want you to know how sorry I am. You deserve this apology. "

This chapter ended up being longer than usual so the rest of this chapter is on AO3

[liaarxse]

hi! main tr boys with a taller s/o? like 6'

I'm baaack !!!

I get this struggle. I'm around 5'10, and I sucks simping for someone who's like 5'7 or below

This also includes real-life

FEE FI FO FUM

Characters: Ryuguji Ken, Hakkai Shiba, Keisuke Baji

Warnings: None, crack

A/n: I'm so sorry for this unannounced break I took, I just truly needed it <3

— Ryuguji Ken

When he first saw you, he was FLABBERGASTED

Why the hell are you so tall??

As if he isn't walking Mount Fuji over here

Bffr

But he never made fun of you

He actually admired you

Why?

You were rocking the height

And slowly, he started falling for you, and your just as big personality

That's how you ended up dating Ryuguji

And to be frank, you couldn't be happier

You knew the kind of environment he was raised in, and the fact he grew to be such a smart and responsible teenager was one of the things you admired most about him

And you always reminded him of that

Which only deepend his love for you

<3

He also likes to slap your ass

BABAHAHAH

It wouldn't be me if I didn't ruin a sweet moment 🫶

He's also very VERY protective of you

As if you aren't a walking mountain as it is

But there still are assholes who could try to hurt you, and you both knew it

And Ryuguji will be damned if he let anything happen to you

If someone, somehow, ended up hurting you, don't worry

Toman will be at their doorstep

Escorting the people who tried to hurt you to the ER

Like goddamn y/n

All jokes aside, the last thing Ken would be looking at are your looks. You could be half his height or half over it, and he'll still love you regardless. <3

The first time you visited the brothel, the girls were amazed

Like

Beauty and height all in one?

Did a model just enter this place?

Would befriend you on the spot

And would, of course, watch what they say to Draken from now on

Would make sure no man comes up to you with the wrong intentions

More devious than Draken himself frfr

Your big sisters love you as much as your big boyfriend <3

Even though you're taller than them <3

— Hakkai Shiba

Baby boy

Will love to be dominated–

–Whilst cuddling

Get your head out of the gutter y/n

But only if he has had a bad day

Good luck trying to little spoon this big boy on a regular basis

Loves to hug you from behind and hide his face in your neck without having to sprain half of the bones in his body

Would be shook when first meeting you

Like

Holy shit they're tall

To this day he's still trying to calculate how much milk you drank as a child to grow this much

And you?

You are too

Because why tf are you this tall?

This ain't jack and the beanstalk y/n

The first time you met Yuzuha she was shook

She knew you were tall but not THIS tall

She loves you regardless

Also babies you both

Why?

Because you're her babies

Her 6'0+ babies

Hakkai wouldn't be as protective as Draken, but will be possessive

Not the yandere psychopath kind of possessive but the kind that would cuddle up to you if you're talking to his sister on the couch

Would also keep a close eye when you're around his brother even though Taiju wouldn't harm you

Also forget about fighting

You might be double the height of his enemies, but you're staying double the distance away from them

Just stay away from fights

Boy only wants to keep his girl safe and sound y/n. Don't be an asshole

Nonetheless, Hakkai will make sure you feel at ease with your appearance no matter what because in his eyes, you were the most gorgeous person he's laid eyes on

And he makes sure you know it

— Keisuke Baji

BAHAHAHAHAHH – Mikey and Smiley

💀 – Mikey and Smiley 2 minutes later

Keisuke does not CARE about height

He'll treat you the same way as if you were half his own

Does not give a fuck if you're tall, he fell in love with you and that's final

Nobody messing with you from now on

You've had bullies? Wanna visit their graves?

A car almost hit you even though you're taller than siren head? Wanna see him light it on fire?

Baji solos your favorites

Wait Baji is your favorite?

Baji solos himself

LMFAO

Bonus points if you like cats

Because who doesn't like to play with cute little pussies?

Especially the big ones

Wanna know Baji's favorite big pussy type?

Black tigers

UGH I LOVE THEM

What did you think I was talking about huh?

HUH?

You nasty

Speaking of cats, Baji loves it when they climb on you

You'd be minding your own business, waiting for Kaisuke to get ready so you could finally go out when you felt something tug on your pants

When you looked down, you saw one cute little black kitten climbing up your pants

Swear to God your heart melted

You started baby-ing the cat, encouraging it while making sure it doesn't fall

Keisuke entered the room, wondering who the fuck you were talking to and when he saw this scenario unfolding before his eyes he deadass dropped to his knees in front of you, encouraging the kitty as well

You were both ecstatic when it managed to reach up to your top, and Baji took a quick family picture, which is now his wallpaper and would beat anyone who made fun of it <3

Jokes aside, Keisuke adores you and will never let anyone or anything make you feel any less

You're perfect inside out in his eyes, and that's more than enough

Just accept the love because there isn't any other way out of this

You're loved

[lakesbian]

okay danny is still not a very good parent overall and this shall remain true but it makes things even more heartbreaking that he thought to warm up covers and a comforter for taylor when he heard she was coming home from the hospital with a concussion...like he Does care and he Tries to think about her and show it. and he's literally just bad at it. he warmed up covers and a comforter for her :((

this chapter is also another contender for "I FORGOT HOW MUCH LISA VISIBLY HAS WRONG WITH HER." she is Literally patrick bateman but a teenage girl. there's something so absurd about lisa talking to taylor's dad like this:

“The couch is fantastic,” Lisa said, “She’s most definitely not in the worst shape she could be in, or even close to it. She’s going to sleep a lot, and you’ll need to check on her every half hour to make sure she’s okay, for the next twelve hours. Besides, she might want to watch TV between naps, so this looks like a perfect place to be.”

“Would you come through to the kitchen?  Our house is small and I’m afraid there’s nowhere to sit in our living room with the sofa bed out.  In the kitchen, we’ll be quieter.” “But still able to see if she wakes up,” Lisa answered, “Makes sense.”

absolutely terminal 'has to be smartest person in the room' disease. but it's, like, specifically applied to being The Most Practical about taking care of taylor. she thought about the tv between naps!! the affirming "makes sense" like she's the one approving where they all sit in a house she's a guest in and the additional logic she applies to it. the "like i said on the phone" she appends before explaining taylor's condition to danny again. What is wrong with you my sweet girl