#chose ones with an interesting first listening experience

[splatfest]

18, 20, 23 (Music asks) <3

from the year that you were born (2002):

+ headfirst for halos - my chemical romance + the fix is in - ok go

that has many meanings to you:

+ cable through your heart - bryan scary

that you think everyone should listen to:

+ sad boys - dazey and the scouts + saturdays for the boys (saturdays for the boys) - 1 trait danger

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 1

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 8.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here a/n: i wanted to write a story that was light, summeryish. it was based off of taylor swift’s song so high school (i’m not that creative with names), i wanted to write that sort of cute romance we all just love. i truly hope you like it, this one is precious to me. thank you to @joonsytip for helping me with this one. please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part two >

If there was one thing you hated about college, it was having to choose electives. For starters, you really didn’t want to be there. You were a good student because you had no choice, not because you absolutely loved college — not that your major was boring and you hated everything about it, but it really did seem like a universal experience to hate your chosen major at some point in college. But the problem was that taking the courses related to your major was hard enough as it was, you didn’t want to have to worry about subjects that might or might not add to what you were studying. Of course, you always tried to choose something that had at least a minimum to do with your major — Art History.

But there were times, like the previous semester when you procrastinated too much to choose one, that it simply wasn’t possible, and you had to put up with classes on Cultural Management. At first, you thought it would be geared towards galleries and the like, but it was something much more specific about public cultural heritage and that wasn’t what you wanted. At least the subject was easy enough. Just reading a few pages of Kira’s notes and listening to half of the lectures was enough to get you through with a high grade.

Trying to be a little smarter, and do something you actually enjoyed doing, you signed up for the semester’s classes as soon as they opened. You were already sitting in front of your computer when the clock struck 10 am. You chose a class that all of your classmates, or at least the ones you talked to, were interested in doing: Model Making.

It was something you enjoyed doing when you were younger. Your parents knew that if you simply disappeared or were too quiet — aka you weren’t yelling at Jeonghan — you’d be in your room surrounded by modeling clay, chopsticks, glue, brushes, and paint, or whatever materials you were using at the time. 

However, all of your dreams were shattered when you ran into Kira at the campus entrance. 

“You know, the teacher for this class is crazy. Your life is going to be hell” was like a cold shower.

After that, it was as if everywhere you went, people were purposefully talking about the subject, about how the teacher was absolutely crazy and that getting a good grade with her was almost impossible, and how she “seems to take a sick pleasure in failing students.” So when the day of class finally arrived, the first of the next six hellish months, you dragged yourself into the classroom. You chose the seat furthest away from her, hidden behind a student, and did your best to stay as out of sight as possible. 

The guy sitting in front of you turned around. He was smiling widely. You weren’t sure if he was trying to be friendly or what. 

“Do you know if what everyone’s saying is true?” 

There was something about him that was familiar. You obviously knew who he was, it was no secret. Everywhere you went, people were either whispering about him or there was a picture of him and the other guys on the team taped to the wall.

Kim Mingyu, star of the ice hockey team. The youngest to become captain, top scorer, the big sensation who would lead the university to the long-awaited championship. All that blah blah blah about the chosen athlete, and the latest savior of the nation.

So yes, you knew who he was, there was no way you couldn't know. But at that specific moment, while he was sitting in front of you, his body turned in the chair at a strange angle because he was obviously too big for that tiny chair, there was something about him that was strangely familiar.

"That the teacher is crazy?" he nodded, his eyebrows slightly arched and his lips almost forming a pout "I haven't heard anyone say otherwise, so I have no choice but to believe it."

You lowered your eyes and focused on the lit screen of your cell phone, which showed a new message from your brother. You didn't look away because you wanted to know what Jeonghan wanted, as far as you were concerned his message would only be read at the end of the day, if that. You didn't want to keep looking at Mingyu when you felt that everyone in the classroom was looking at you.

You knew it wasn't exactly true, there was no way an entire class, full of students talking to each other, could be looking at you at the same time as if you were doing something scandalous or even remotely wrong. But you knew there were a few people, and that was more than enough. It was a very familiar feeling, one you preferred not to revisit.

Even though you completely ignored Mingyu's presence or his gaze on you, he still hadn't turned around. Not even when the teacher entered the room and everyone fell silent.

The problem with being a child who didn’t have many experiences is that you become a fearful person. Everything seems big, larger than life, and sometimes everything seems infinite and far beyond reach. It’s a much easier choice to retreat into that familiar corner and pretend the world outside simply doesn’t exist. The bubble you created for yourself was small and admittedly, sometimes suffocating, but it was also comforting.

But everything can change when you meet people who aren’t aware of that bubble, or who didn’t create those spaces for themselves. They weren’t trapped inside it.

One class was more than enough to start a crack in your perfectly intact bubble. A selective introvert, as you liked to say. For a loud hockey player when he was surrounded by his friends, Seokmin was strangely shy.

When the teacher was choosing the pairs, you closed your eyes, praying to anyone who would listen not to pair you with a bad student, someone who wouldn't do anything and you would have to do all the work alone. The prayer, or whatever it was, was not heard because the teacher decided it would be a great idea to pair you and Seokmin. Maybe you were under the wrong impression, falling into the old suspicions and stereotypes, but you doubted very much that you would be able to get any kind of help from Seokmin.

And to be quite honest, after a bad experience with a group mate, to the point of ending up at the police station, because the guy simply couldn't accept the fact that you taking his name off the work was completely his fault and you simply didn't think it was fair that you did everything alone and he still got a good grade, you were okay with doing everything on your own. You were sure that if you opened your email, and clicked on your spam box because God was a witness to the number of emails you had received from that idiot, there would probably still be some unread emails from him, bragging that even with your “attempt” to jeopardize his education, he had managed to get a good enough grade to pass the class. 

Despite everything, Seokmin was nice and seemed interested enough, although a little lost, but maybe a little push in the right direction would be enough. 

“I took this class because I thought it would be easy,” he said laughing, a little shy, “I guess I was wrong.” 

You nodded, absentmindedly turning the page of your notebook with the notes you had made. 

“I took it because I like the idea of ​​building models.”

The classroom door opened with a bang, slamming against the wall. Everyone turned to him, some girls laughing. Mingyu was obviously late, his hair still wet from the shower, his backpack inside out on his shoulder, his shirt completely wrinkled as if it had just come out of a cow’s mouth. The teacher stood up and walked towards him slowly, her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s screwed.” Seokmin laughed softly, or as softly as he could.

The teacher didn’t have a welcoming look in her eyes, if anything she seemed to be glaring at Mingyu, and not even the best smile he could throw in her direction would make a difference. In addition to being crazy, the teacher was also apparently known for not accepting tardiness.

It was impossible to look away as Mingyu tried, without any success, to open his mouth to explain, but the teacher wouldn’t let him say a single word. You and Seokmin suppressed a laugh when the teacher looked in the direction where she thought the noise was coming from before turning back to Mingyu, who seemed more desperate by the second. He looked lost standing in front of the older woman, his head lowered like a child who had misbehaved and was listening to a lecture.

Finally, the teacher dismissed him with a wave of her hands and turned back to her desk, completely ignoring Mingyu. He finally turned back to the desks, his eyes scanning the space before finally settling on Seokmin. Or… on you? There was no reason to believe he was looking at you, none at all. When Mingyu smiled, you went back to looking at your notes, flipping the pages almost compulsively, looking for anything and nothing.

You had no idea why your heart was behaving like that, beating almost animalistically inside your chest, or why you felt a single drop of sweat run down your spine — despite the air conditioning being on and you feeling cold. You could have sworn you could hear Mingyu’s footsteps going up the stairs, despite the sound of the students’ conversations around you being obviously much louder.

“At least I got something good for being late today.”

Mingyu pulled out the empty chair next to you and sat down, his knee bumping against yours. You flinched a little and moved away, making yourself closer to Seokmin.

“Sorry,” you said to Seokmin and turned to Mingyu. “Could you…?”

You waved your hand to make him move away. He looked confused for a second until he pushed the chair further away from you. On the other side, Seokmin covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, while Mingyu glared at him.

“The teacher who chose your group?” Seokmin asked, still trying to suppress a laugh.

“She just said to sit with whoever wasn’t already in a trio”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Great, you were stuck with two jocks who had probably hit their heads on the ice so much that their brains had turned to jelly in their early twenties.

“What do we have to do?”

“Build 3 models based on architectural periods.” When Mingyu widened his eyes, you added, “It’s the entire semester’s work. We don’t even have to come to class anymore, just the last one to hand it in.”

You started gathering the few materials you had taken out of your bag. The notebook and pen quickly disappeared into what Jeonghan called a black hole. “What goes in there never comes out again. If you look hard enough, you’ll find a wallet I lost in high school.”

“Look, I know I’m going to do this alone. I'll find a way to let you know the periods I chose and the artists and you guys study for the presentation.” 

You stood up, pushing the chair back with your knees, making a lot more noise than expected, which in turn made most of the people turn to see what was happening, including the teacher. 

“Wait,” Mingyu said, holding the strap of your bag. 

Not that you could get out of there anyway, he was between you and any possibility of leaving. But you thought he would get out of the way if he saw that you wanted to leave.

“I'll help, it's my job too,” with his free hand, he pointed to Seokmin behind you. “Ours, actually.” 

Despite the sincere look on his face, you laughed.

“Look, I don't want to offend you guys, okay? But the three of us know that won't happen. There will always be a practice, a game, a party, something that will stop you from doing your part of the work. I don’t mind doing it alone, it won’t be the first time, and considering I still have two more semesters to go, it won’t be the last. It’s okay, really.”

Mingyu stood up and for a moment you were sure he was going to get out of your way, but somehow he managed to block your path even more. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had always been this tall and wide. When he was around the other players it didn’t seem like it, but him standing in front of you…

“I said we’ll help” 

He took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, turning the device towards you.

“You know, your hands are huge, and this is a very delicate job” What exactly were you talking about?

“He’s more skilled than you can imagine,” Seokmin said. 

Once again, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The teacher was definitely crazy, and it seemed like she had some kind of personal vendetta against you. Or was it a curse cast by Jeonghan for staining his white shirts? Whatever it was, it was a problem that, at the moment, had no obvious solution.

“If I fail this class because of you two idiots, maybe one of you will lose a hand.” You snatched the phone from Mingyu’s hand, dialed your number, and quickly handed it back. “Maybe both of you”

You put your hand on Mingyu’s shoulder and pushed him back. You tried your best to avoid any kind of contact, but it was the only solution you could find to pass.

“It’s not a matter of life or death, you know?” he said, laughing.

“I’ve never failed in my life, and I’m not going to start now.”

Mingyu pushed the door open with perhaps a little more force than necessary. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't happy either, a strange feeling somewhere in between that he didn't like very much.

That first day he had seen you in class was like he had been transported back to high school. He could almost hear you saying, in the most disinterested tone in the world, "I've been waiting for you for two hours, could we please go home?" At that time he had also felt invisible to your eyes.

But so many years later, in that classroom, he thought you would recognize him. Mingyu thought, as naive as it may seem, that despite your disinterest at the time, at least you would know who he was.

Of all the people he could meet in that class, you were the last one that ever crossed his mind. It had been years since he had last seen you, since Jeonghan's last game, when he was crowned champion for the third time - an unprecedented feat until that moment. Mingyu had even tried to beat that record, but his runner-up position in the third year had prevented him from doing so. 

He had gotten used to seeing you from afar, always the unreachable sister of his captain, who always seemed to be much more interested in the books you carried around with you than in anything else. 

The truth was that you had never even directed a word in Mingyu's direction. Besides Jeonghan, he had only seen you talk to one other person, Seungcheol. It had never been clear to him if it was by choice or if it was because Jeonghan always said you were off-limits. Maybe it was somewhere in between. 

However, when you entered the room, looking for an empty chair, Mingyu expected you to recognize him, even though so many years had passed. When you walked up the stairs and seemed to be heading towards him, Mingyu, like a silly teenager, expected you to at least greet him. But you walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. 

Even so, he tried to talk to you. Something about the teacher being crazy and the look in your eyes said that you couldn't wait for him to shut up and look straight ahead again.

After that, it was like he saw you everywhere, and believe him, he wasn't looking for you. In the café that opened on the other side of the campus, in the library, when he went to return a book, in the hallway of the building, on the lawn. Mingyu spent five years without having any kind of contact with you and, suddenly, you were everywhere.

He chose to see it as a divine sign. As if the guy up there was saying "Now is your chance". And then, as if all these signs weren't enough, he was given the chance to do an assignment with you, almost like a gift.

"The door didn't do anything to you," Seokmin said laughing.

"Do you want to be the door?" 

Maybe the divine signal was broken, maybe the guy up there was messing with him because in less than 5 minutes you managed to extinguish any and all excitement Mingyu could have about doing the assignment with you. All you had to do was open your mouth.

“Dude, she just doesn’t remember you” Seokmin laughed again, having a little too much fun with the whole situation “If you say, ‘hi, I was your brother’s teammate’, she’ll still not remember you, but maybe she’ll be less hostile”

Mingyu highly doubted that was the case. There was a rumor that you hated everything and anything that had to do with hockey, your patience was less than zero. Jeonghan was the king of the ice, the best the sport could produce. You were the ice princess without ever having even put on a pair of skates – or so the gossip said. 

“It doesn’t bother me that she doesn’t remember me” It did bother him, but he wouldn’t admit it “It bothers me that she thinks I’m stupid”

Usually, under completely normal circumstances, Mingyu would even prefer to be seen as stupid and without anything in his head. It was easier, it prevented people from creating any kind of expectation about him. Strangely, he wanted you to see him as intelligent.

“You’re a bit contradictory, aren’t you? You’ve spent the last 3 years cultivating the image of a dumb athlete, who gets good grades by pure luck, despite the almost impossible subjects, but now you want her to think you’re smart”

“I didn’t know you knew how to use the word contradictory”

You stared at the lit screen of your cell phone. The unknown number was glowing and the inviting green button was almost begging you to answer the call. It was already the third time he had called and it would also be the third time you had ignored him.

“You know, it won’t hurt if you answer his call,” Kira said beside you, but she also knew that trying to convince you was a losing game.

Exactly 11 days had passed since the fateful class that had put you in a group with Seokmin and Mingyu. While you had no direct problems with either of them, besides them being hockey players, Mingyu’s insistence irritated you in a way that didn’t make much sense — not even to you. You should have felt relieved that he wanted to do the work, and that he was interested in participating. But the truth is that you knew how this worked, you had been in that situation before and hadn’t had the best experience.

Maybe you were a little too hard on him, it's true, but it's like the old saying goes: a scalded cat fears cold water.

“I want to keep as far away from him as possible.”

Kira rolled her eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time. She understood, to some extent, your dislike for players and also knew that a lot of it came from your brother, but in the case of Mingyu, specifically, you were definitely going too far.

“Look, the rumors are that he's a good student, actually. Always with high grades.” Kira tried to argue.

You knew the rumor well, even before you were put in the same group, in fact, much to your chagrin, Mingyu had chosen to be in the same group as you. That helped a lot with the huge reputation he had around the college. Handsome, athletic, good student. But you didn't believe it for a minute.

You didn’t know if Mingyu really had any good grades, but if he did, you were sure he hadn’t gotten them in the most… fairway.

“And he’s not unpleasant to look at at all.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. Yes, Mingyu was gorgeous, breathtaking, the kind of guy that made you wonder if he was even real. You had eyes and they worked just fine, you didn’t need Kira to remind you that he was handsome. Saying Mingyu was handsome was like saying the sky was blue, obvious, and expected.

“You know I don’t mess with athletes.”

Finally, Mingyu had given up on the call, but that didn’t mean he had given up completely. Your phone only had a few seconds of respite before the screen lit up again, but this time with a ton of messages.

Unknown - 11:32

hi, it's mingyu

Unknown - 11:32

again

Unknown - 11:33

answer me, I want to talk about the project

Unknown - 11:34

you said you want to do it alone, but it's not going to happen, you know? I can't leave my grande in the hands of a complete stranger

Unknown - 11:35

I see you with your phone in your hand, take my call or reply to my texts

You lifted your head so quickly that you felt a twinge in your neck.

"Shit"

You looked around the cafe, trying to find Mingyu, but most of the tables were empty and none of the people standing in line looked remotely like him. You brought your face closer to the glass, trying to find the tall, broad figure, outside, and still didn't see anyone who could be mistaken for him.

yn - 11:37

I could report you for stalking

Unknown - 11:37

crime: wanting to do a college assignment

yn - 11:37

following me around, calling me non-stop, texting me. It could be considered stalking, yes

Unknown - 11:38

again, crime: wanting to do a school project

Unknown - 11:38

also, I wasn’t following you, I just happened to see you

yn - 11:38

I already said I'll do it alone

Unknown - 11:39

and I already said it won't happen, so if you could tell me your plan on how to do it, that would be great

“We have to admit, he's persistent”

Mingyu's messages became common and also at the most random moments possible. You were sure that the only time he hadn't sent a text was when he was at the game last Friday. You knew this because you had watched the game, with the computer with the sound turned down so that Jeonghan wouldn't suspect anything. 

You hated to admit it, but he was good at what he did. Dared to say it was even glorious. It was hard to believe that a man of that size, so wide, could infiltrate the smallest spaces and score the most unbelievable goals possible. He and Seokmin together were almost magical. They still couldn't compare to the duo of Jeonghan and Seungcheol, but that was already a very high level to reach. 

Mingyu had given up on sending you texts only about work, not that you had answered any of them, but he also started asking about your course, inviting you and Kira to go to one of his games – you still wondered how he had found out about your friendship since all of your social media profiles were locked and so were Kira's.

You had to agree with Kira, he was persistent. You could even say tireless. If you were him, you would probably have given up a long time ago, choosing to let the crazy guy do the work alone. But Mingyu was nowhere near giving up. You knew this because every time you miraculously ran into Mingyu, you had to run away from him, practically having to run away from him at some point.

It worked very well for a week until one day he simply appeared in front of you. You were distracted, your eyes glued to your phone. Jeonghan was gliding across the ice with skill when the player from the other team hit him hard, his body flying before falling to the ice. You felt the air get stuck in your lungs until he stood up, clearly irritated by what had happened. You felt like laughing when you saw the name on the other player's shirt, the one who had pushed Jeonghan. Choi. Best friends in real life, rivals on the ice.

“What are you looking at so focused?” a voice said next to him.

You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest as you tried to lock your phone and put it back in the bag. You wished you had been more graceful in the whole situation, to look less like someone who had been caught red-handed doing something they shouldn't have.

“Jeez, do you have no manners?” your voice came out louder than expected, causing some people around him to turn to see what was happening.

Beside you, Mingyu smiled, pleased with himself for having gotten some reaction beyond furrowed eyebrows and a look of disgust.

“Were you running away from me?” he raised his hand and corrected himself, “Not right now because you clearly had no idea I was here, but in general.” 

You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace. You didn’t really have anywhere to go or anything to do, there were still 50 minutes until your next class and there was no time to run home and hide. Would it be too pathetic to hide in the bathroom and wait for him to leave? With your luck, he would be waiting outside, even if it meant missing a class. 

“Why would I do that?” 

Mingyu crossed his arms over his chest. For the first time in your life, you wished someone was ugly, devoid of any kind of muscles or attractive qualities. You wished he was ugly, terrible to look at. You wished the sun wouldn’t make his skin shine, you wished you didn’t find the mole on the tip of his nose cute, wished you hadn’t wondered if maybe all this insistence of his didn’t have some extra reason, besides wanting to get the work done and obviously annoying you. Of all the things, you wished you hadn’t been disappointed when you hadn’t seen him for a day.

It was ridiculous, you knew it was. But whatever it may be, there you were, your heart pounding, feeling it throb in your neck. You wouldn’t fool yourself into thinking it was just because you were surprised by him suddenly being by your side. You could fool others, but at least you had to be fair to yourself.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Even though you knew it wasn’t a good idea, you stood still. You knew it would only attract more attention, it was almost inevitable when Mingyu was by your side. 

“Okay, I was. I don’t want to be seen with you.”

Mingyu looked confused, his head lolling to the side as if he was seriously thinking about what was happening. The question mark was clearly written on his face. It was almost as if one was floating above his head.

“Mingyu, look. You, in and of yourself, are not the problem. I mean, in part, it is, but you know, it's that old story, the problem is me, not you.”

“I honestly thought the problem was just the assignment.” He scratched his head, his eyebrows still furrowed. “You think I'm stupid and that kind of thing.”

You took a deep breath, your eyes closed for a second. You hadn't explained the situation to him, you had no reason to, so he had no way of knowing. But you also didn't want to expose your life to a stranger, so you weren’t willing to just tell secrets you’d never said out loud.

“If I tell you I’ll let you guys do your part, will you stop following me? It’s a little weird, and maybe even a little creepy.”

Your words were honest, it was weird and creepy at the same time. It didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t it be much easier for him, and for Seokmin, to just let you do everything yourself so they could focus on whatever was important to them? In your opinion, it was the easiest thing for everyone.

But Mingyu looked like a dog with a bone. A terrible analogy, but it made sense, at least to you.

“Yes,” a direct answer, great.

“Let’s do it like this then, let’s chat via text about the artists we think are cool, which are the most interesting. Once we’ve reached a consensus, we’ll get together to start making the models.”

You took a step back and held out your hand. A peace offering.

“We have a deal then.”

If regret killed, you would have been dead and buried so long ago that you would have turned into fertilizer. Logically, you knew that trusting Jeonghan was a mistake. You loved your brother with all your heart, but you also knew that he wasn't the most trustworthy person for certain things.

If you were in trouble and needed help? He was definitely the right guy for the job. He wouldn't say a word in a judgmental tone and, depending on the situation, he would go far enough to pretend it never happened. Now, if it was a request that he considered silly, then it was a lost cause. 

Besides all that, Jeonghan liked to play pranks, and you were one of his favorite victims. Things could even get a little out of hand when he and Seungcheol got together. It was like having two completely devilish older brothers. In truth, Seungcheol alone wasn't even that bad, but when he got together with Jeonghan it was like someone had opened the gates of hell. 

Even knowing all this, you had talked to him. You knew the house was his, that he could come and go as he pleased, but thought that if you played the little sister card well enough he would let it go.

"Some friends from college are coming over tomorrow, can you please not show up at home?" you asked, making your best puppy-dog-that-fell-out-of-the-moving-truck face.

"You don’t want me to meet your boyfriend?" he laughed, looking away from his phone for a second before returning his attention to the device.

You closed your eyes. Something was going on. Jeonghan was really into his phone, much more than usual. Either some nonsensical rumor had been published, which he would have already shown you and laughed along with you when he read the absurdities written; or he had a bone in his body, also known as a girlfriend. He always got more into his phone when he had someone more serious in his life.

It was useful information to have, so you put it in a little box in your mind labeled "something to blackmail Jeonghan with later" For now it was just speculation, but it could be important.

"How many boyfriends do you think I have?" You grimaced, shaking your head. “But no, none of them are my boyfriend. They’re just some guys I have to work with. I thought about doing it here because we need space and I’m sure I’ll yell at one of them sooner or later.”

You weren’t in the habit of bringing people home. Jeonghan was a person who really liked his private life to remain that way, private. Even with Kira, who was your closest friend, you had a hard time taking her home. Not because Jeonghan had asked. He knew that if you were asking, it was because you needed to or because you trusted those people enough to know who your brother was without it becoming a problem.

In fact, you weren’t sure of anything, not that you needed them or that you could trust them. But Jeonghan wasn’t one of those celebrities who had huge photos of themselves scattered around the house. It’s a little creepy, to be honest, he had said once. So the few photos he had around the living room were in normal-sized picture frames, which his mother had put up when she visited, so they could be easily hidden. The lie about the rich brother who works in the stock market was always on the tip of your tongue in case someone could question why you lived in a penthouse.

"I don't understand what's wrong with me being here then" His indifferent tone of voice was dangerous.

Maybe it would be better to give up.

"First because I don't need supervision, the virginity ship sailed a long time ago" 

It might be a good idea to talk about something he didn't like to talk about, like your past relationships. He could joke all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he was just a guy who didn't like knowing that his younger sister had boyfriends.

"For the love of god I don't need to know that in detail" He grimaced, pretending to vomit. He was such a good actor that he had even turned pale.

"And secondly, because they play hockey. Since there's no way they don't know who you are, I'd like to not witness another fanboy" 

You knew you had said the wrong thing when you noticed that gleam in Jeonghan's eyes. Even his expression had changed when you told him that your groupmates played hockey.

Still, you chose to believe him when he said he would be out of the house all day, that he would even go to Seungcheol's house after practice — which you thought was a lie, considering the whole situation with not putting down his phone and running when a notification came in. He had gone as far as to say, “let me know when it's over, so I can come home.” That's why you sent a message to the group chat with Seokmin and Mingyu asking if they had Tuesday night off.

A part of you, a very big part, thought they would deny it and make up any excuse not to show up, but it was almost as if they both had their phones in their hands waiting for your message.

And so, the three of you were sitting at Jeonghan's huge dining table. It was the kind of furniture that existed only to take up space, you always ate in the kitchen.

“You live well” Seokmin commented.

It was funny, and almost cute, how completely clumsy he was. You had bought different types of materials to test, thinking about which one would work best. Seokmin had changed several times, the last attempt was the biscuit.

“My brother earns well” you shrugged, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore.

To your surprise, he didn't ask. Which was a relief, you didn't want to lie.

Even without looking up, you knew Mingyu was looking at you. He didn't try to hide it at all. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was flattering.

You rested your chin on your hand and stared at him too. Ever since the first day you had seen him in class, you had the feeling that you knew him. You didn't know where from, you didn't know how. It wasn't from college, it wasn't from the posters spread around, or from the fame he had. It was from before, before college, but you didn't know where. You were sure he wasn't in any of the courses you took and he wasn't from your school either, there was no hockey team.

“Where do I know you from?” the words came from your lips, but it was a question asked much more to you than to him.

Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side and didn't say a single word. Seokmin, who until then had his head down, his brow furrowed in concentration trying to shape the white mass in his hands, looked up, almost startled by your words.

It was as if a light bulb had been turned on over your head. It was so ridiculously obvious that you would be able to kick yourself.

And with perfect timing, as if it had been sent from heaven, programmed to the exact seconds, you heard the living room door open. A second later, Jeonghan was in the room.

“Mingyu?” Jeonghan said, his eyes darting from side to side, trying to understand what was happening.

“Captain,” Mingyu said, smiling.

You wished a hole the size of Mount Everest would open up beneath your feet and swallow you whole as you watched Mingyu stand up and greet Jeonghan as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

That was obviously true.

“You know each other” It wasn’t a question, it was a simple statement.

“Yes? Mingyu is a few years younger, but we played on the same team.”

Suddenly a brief movie flashed through your head, of all the times you had seen Mingyu — or at least the times that were never erased. Mingyu walking next to Jeonghan one of the times you were waiting for your brother in the school parking lot, him at the games, sitting on the bench completely irritated by the fact that he couldn’t play and the team was losing. He was a boy who was clearly too skinny, but somehow he had become that man in front of you.

“She doesn’t remember me,” Mingyu said with a laugh.

Was that a hint of resentment you heard in his voice? You hoped not, but maybe if you were in his shoes you would be resentful too. You hoped he hadn’t talked to you that first day because he expected you to recognize him and every time after that. Because most of the time you had been a complete jerk to him.

“Wow, you saw him literally every day for at least two years.”

It wasn’t like you weren’t already embarrassed enough on your own, of course, Jeonghan, in his best big brother role, had to add fuel to the fire. You hoped your cheeks weren’t as red as you felt them hot.

If the smile on Mingyu’s lips was any indication, you were completely screwed.

“I only remember Cheol. He was the only one you let get close to me.”

It was a futile attempt to defend yourself, but it was the only excuse you had. It was also the truth.

“That’s true,” Mingyu agreed, sitting back down.

It wasn’t a big secret that Jeonghan had forbidden all his teammates from getting close to you. It wasn’t like you desperately wanted their company anyway, so it was a win-win arrangement.

“You were a pain in the ass,” which was just another shovel of dirt for someone who was already buried, right?

“I was protecting you? The guys on the team…” he tried to defend himself, feigning offense.

You simply waved your hand at him, dismissing any kind of explanation he might have offered.

“They were teenagers full of testosterone and hormones. Not much has changed, you know.”

The three of them were startled when Seokmin slammed the table, his eyes wide as he stared at Jeonghan. For a few minutes, you had forgotten he was there.

“You are Yoon Jeonghan’s sister?” His voice had suddenly become shrill to the point of echoing in the room.

The laugh that escaped your lips was partly incredulous and partly desperate. Mingyu remembered you, but he hadn’t told anyone—not even his teammate—probably because he remembered it was something you kept people from knowing. In a way, you knew your secret's safe with him. But you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin in the same way.

“He’s kind of slow sometimes.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin out the door, hoping he would finally stop talking. His friend hadn’t realized the discomfort he had caused you yet. Jeonghan, as always, didn’t seem to care and on some level, he actually seemed to enjoy all the attention he was getting.

“It’s been a while since someone got this excited to see me,” he said, laughing when Seokmin went to the bathroom.

Either Jeonghan hadn’t realized how quiet you had been, or he had simply chosen not to do anything about it. Mingyu couldn’t be sure of the older man’s intentions, not at that moment or when they were still at school.

But you? You were like an open book, almost begging to be read. You obviously didn’t say a word, but your face showed how uncomfortable you were with the whole situation, how embarrassed you were for not remembering Mingyu as soon as you saw him.

Without you noticing, Mingyu spent a lot of time observing you. In a way, it was easy to know what you were thinking. Of course, a lot had changed in the years you hadn't seen each other, but many things were still the same.

“He won't tell anyone about your brother.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin again, this time towards the elevator, and turned to you, who was holding the door, your gaze almost lost.

“It's okay.” you took a deep breath before straightening your spine and forcing a smile. “Eventually, everyone will know.”

He shook his head and put his hand on your shoulder, leaning his body forward slightly so his eyes were leveled with yours.

“You have my word,” he promised, voice low “Seokmin won't open his mouth. Your secret will still be a secret.”

You nodded, but Mingyu knew the gesture was just to make him leave faster.

“You should go,” you said before closing the door, without waiting for Mingyu's response.

If he could, he would suffocate Seokmin right there in the hallway, but then the security cameras would see him and that would become a problem. He entered the elevator in silence and pressed the button for the ground floor. Beside him, Seokmin was practically thrilled with the discovery he had made an hour ago.

“When you said you knew her from your old school, I would never have imagined that,” he said, laughing. “I thought she was a girl who went to the same school as you.”

Mingyu chose to remain silent. He expected Seokmin to eventually get tired and simply stop talking, but he should have known better. His friend had too much energy to simply stop. In fact, it was a surprise that he had managed to stay quiet for two hours before Jeonghan arrived. And even after he arrived, Seokmin had remained standing in the same place. He spoke faster than ever and looked at Jeonghan as if he were seeing a god in person, but still, standing in the same place.

God knew it was almost impossible to convince Seokmin to stay still for long.

“I don’t understand why she hides the fact that she’s his sister. It’s basically the nicest thing anyone can say. Imagine going around saying ‘my brother is Yoon Jeonghan’”

Mingyu sighed and crossed his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course, he would.

“Remember that time your sister complained that a girl tried to befriend her because she wanted to go out with you?”

“It happened a few times, actually.”

Mingyu stayed silent, waiting for all the dots to connect in Seokmin’s head without him having to actually say the words. Under normal circumstances, Seokmin would have understood and kept quiet, but he was too excited after meeting an idol god to realize the full context Mingyu was trying to give him.

“That happens to her all the time. She didn’t even go to the same school as us. She really does everything so no one knows she’s his sister. Didn’t you notice there’s no picture of them at home?”

Seokmin laughed, as if the question was too stupid, causing Mingyu to narrow his eyes.

“Dude, you’re the one who’s into her, not me. I don’t care about whose picture is in her house.”

Would anyone find it a problem if Mingyu strangled Seokmin until he passed out and then took him back home? In Mingyu’s eyes, he would be doing everyone around him a favor. It would be a night of silence and peace for everyone involved — in this case, just him, but no one needed to know about it.

“Either way, you can’t tell anyone about this,” he warned once more.

He had made a promise to you and he would rather cut off an arm than break it.

“Not even to the team?”

Mingyu scratched his head before crossing his arms again, with much more force than necessary. Finally, the elevator reached the ground floor and Seokmin was faster than Mingyu to get out, almost running down the hall to the gate.

Mingyu briefly greeted the doorman with a nod before following his friend.

“Especially to the team. No one can know. It's like a federal secret, you know?”

Mingyu grabbed Seokmin by the arm, making his friend stop and look at him. He hoped it would be enough for him to understand that he wasn't kidding, that it wasn't some kind of joke.

"Jeez, so much drama."

He got away from his friend and quickly opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

Once again, Mingyu took a deep breath, his eyes closed. Maybe he shouldn't have promised you anything, not when the promise had nothing to do with him, and when there was a possibility of everything going wrong, then he would have to bear the burden of someone else's mistake.

"Seokmin," your voice was a warning tone. He opened the car door.

"I won't say anything!" his friend almost shouted.

"You're terrible at keeping secrets," he sighed, almost defeated.

"Nobody knows that you're actually super smart," Seokmin scoffed. "I never told on you, you know."

When you finally managed to get Mingyu and Seokmin to leave, you were beyond exhausted. It was late, already past 10 pm and you had to wake up early for class the next day. At least you would fall into bed without much trouble and you were sure that you would black out almost instantly. Except for the idea that from that moment on it was likely that the entire college would know who your brother was.

You always knew that this day would come, you just hoped it wouldn't be during college, a college that had a good hockey team — well, it was almost unfair, they were fantastic — and that lived and breathed the sport. If the news really needed to get out, you wanted it to happen when you were far away from there, in an environment where few people would like the sport. Of course, you were living off stereotypes, but you preferred to believe that you wouldn't have many colleagues who liked the sport, or that if they did, they would be indifferent.

With a sigh, you began to gather the materials that were scattered around the table, cleaning up the mess left behind. Seokmin wasn't wrong when he said that Mingyu was more skilled than expected. The prototype he made was delicate and almost perfect. Working with him wouldn't be complicated at all. With Seokmin too. He was more absent-minded, but he wasn't bad either. He could do the rough part of the work and you would refine it until it was perfect.

“Sis”

Jeonghan's voice sounded behind you and you chose not to answer. You were irritated with him for so many reasons that you didn't even know where to start, or what to say to him. You had made it explicitly clear why you didn't want him home. And, although he had never necessarily liked your reasons, Jeonghan had always respected you. If you said you didn't want something, he accepted it. But this time he had crossed all the limits.

“Sister” he tried again, this time a step closer to you.

You rested your hands on the table and leaned your body forward. 

“You know, I know that I live in your house, that you’re the one paying for my college, and that all the comfort I have here is because you pay for everything, so you can kind of do whatever you want. But this is my life.” 

You continued to put the things in the box and went to your room. You didn’t close the door because you knew Jeonghan would follow you. 

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with people knowing that I’m your brother.” 

You shook your head as you sat on the bed. He clearly didn’t understand, he never had, but he had always respected it. Apparently not anymore. 

“It’s not middle school anymore and you’re not 13 anymore. Just tell them all to go to hell,” he tried to reason, sitting in front of you. 

Jeonghan’s eyes were affectionate, without a hint of judgment. He just wanted to understand what was going on, because it was so important to you that people didn’t know.

“I didn’t change schools because girls were all over me because they wanted your number. I can’t say it didn’t affect my decision and it was the perfect excuse. But that wasn’t all.”

You didn’t know how to continue, didn’t know how to say everything without Jeonghan getting upset. Because you were sure he would.

“I didn’t want to be compared to you anymore.”

Your voice was almost a whisper and you didn’t dare look up, or in Jeonghan’s direction. You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face, because you knew he would be disappointed. Not because you were feeling that way, but because you never told him anything.

“The teachers always talked about how smart you were, that despite sports you always got good grades. And I remember how you were back then, and you barely tried, but you were good at everything. I tried so hard and it was never enough.”

With each word that left your mouth, your voice got lower and weaker. When you said the words out loud, when they weren’t just cloistered in your mind anymore, they sounded almost pathetic. Jeonghan had never put any kind of pressure on you, quite the opposite. Your brother always made sure that you were you, an individual different from him.

All the ideas and traumas you had were not directly caused by Jeonghan but somehow had to do with him.

Jeonghan sighed loudly and leaned forward until he could hold your hand.

“Being good at school doesn’t mean anything, it’s just school. No one cares about it after a while.”

The laugh you let out was one of complete mockery. Jeonghan really had no idea what could be going through your head, the things that had happened and were still happening. Not that you blamed him for that, he had no way of knowing if you didn’t tell him what was going on, but part of you just wanted him to pay attention. If he paid attention, even the slightest bit, he would know.

The fact that he didn’t understand was painful.

If it were just the school teachers, it would be fine. Like he said, no one cares about school after a while. Do you know who cares about school, regardless of the moment? Parents. Parents who aren't necessarily bad, just parents who think that comparing one child to another is an excellent incentive. An incentive so good that they still do it.

Deep down you know that it's not out of malice, that it's not because they want to see you down, but it's an inevitable consequence. And, in a way, they were already so intrinsic in the conversations, little notes that didn't even seem like real comments, that you were sure that Jeonghan didn't even notice them.

"Okay," you said, just wanting to end the conversation. "I'll talk to both of them tomorrow, and apologize to Mingyu."

Jeonghan nodded, knowing full well that the conversation was over and that even if he pressed, he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of you.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," he said, "but if you want, can we have dinner together and talk about it?"

"I'll accept dinner, but I'll skip the talk."

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[muletia]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 ₊˚⊹♡

obsessed!smokescreen x human!reader

summary: you and smokescreen are trying to watch a movie, but his irresistible and constant need for closeness stubbornly gets in the way. will you make it to the end? (spoiler: you won’t)

cw: fluff, suggestive, obsessive thoughts, unhealthy clinginess, possessiveness, very mild not nsfw dub-con, biting/marking, very light manipulation from smokey

word count: 1570

Your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. Consciousness drifts into another dimension, and your head slowly tilts forward further as you lose contact with reality and embrace sleep with open arms. But alas, sleep is not meant for you—not yet. Your boyfriend is keeping watch, ensuring you continue your fight to stay awake. And when he's near you, he seems unusually attuned to moments like these.

"Hey, hey, don't drift off on me now," he pleads, voice desperate, because this isn’t your first slip-up. "We just started the movie!"

"Ah, sorry," you mumble, rubbing your face to try and wake yourself up, which works. For now.

Your attention returns to the flickering TV screen in the garage, and for a moment, you really do feel alert. You're not proud of how easily you drift off, especially with company, but the day's events are catching up to you, pulling your eyelids downward. You’d promised him you’d finally finish this movie together— you’ve both tried to get through it multiple times, only to be interrupted every single time by something—or rather, someone.

That someone is none other than your personal heater sitting next to you, the primary disruptor of your small private movie nights.

And, as you catch him from the corner of your eye, it's clear he’s got a new idea for spicing up your passive movie-watching routine. His broad smile is utterly contagious, and you fight hard not to let your lips curl. It’s endearing, but you’re not falling for it—not yet. You know exactly where this evening will go if you give him your attention. After all, you’ve lived this scenario many times before.

"Optics on the screen," you chide softly. "We just started the movie, hypocrite."

"Oh, I am watching," he replies, with mock indignation.

"Not me!" you sigh. "We’re not restarting this movie for the tenth time. Look at the screen." You motion toward the brightest source of light in the room.

He knows he should listen. He’s the one who suggested the movie night in the first place. He also chose the film—one of your favorites—because he wanted to experience it with you, to watch your reactions, hear your thoughts, and discuss it afterward. All of it was just a way to interact with you, to be showered in your attention. To absorb it like the finest energon, savoring its addictive sweetness.

It’s not his fault that everything you do is infinitely more interesting than any fiction on the small screen. Sure, he likes human culture and finds it genuinely fascinating—but only because you’re at its center. You’re the one who reveals its secrets, who offers him glimpses of the daily life he so desperately wants to be a part of. Watching movies together lets him simulate that life. He knows he should use every chance to learn more about your world. The problem is, he can’t focus.

It’s not as if there are moments when he thinks of you more or less. No—he’s always thinking about you. Seven days a week, every hour of Earth’s solar cycle. During missions, patrols, recharge—even when he’s with you. It’s suffocating, overwhelming his processor, a constant need to express his untamed emotions, but with no outlet to relieve the ever-growing weight.

Having you by his side is wonderful—feeling your scent, your warmth; brushing shoulders and sharing a blanket. But, ever ambitious, he needs more. Thoughts of you provide only fleeting satisfaction, failing to meet even a fraction of his desire. They leave him helpless once again.

Smokescreen doesn’t want to be just an observer anymore, a witness to the action around him. Those days died with Cybertron.

He wants to feel, touch, and explore, even though he already knows every inch of your body—every mole, scar, and birthmark. Alien, but captivatingly beautiful. Unparalleled softness. Addictive. Meant to be worshipped and adored. It’s no surprise his servos fit your curves perfectly, as if you were made for each other—not just in spark, but in body too. No stimulant could compare to the euphoria of adoring you. No human cinematic masterpiece, no mission, no praise from Optimus Prime himself.

"You’re incorrigible," you sigh. "You just missed the most important part."

Suddenly, he realizes he’s spent the last several kliks staring only at you, fantasizing about physically expressing all the emotions roiling within him. His servos are trembling now, and he has to touch you—to prove how much you mean to him, how vital you are in his life.

Electricity courses through his frame—a signal of surpassing limits. He’s nearing a breaking point, teetering on the edge of abandoning the careful balance of your relationship. Can’t let that happen. He accepts destroying himself, allowing his yearning for you to dictate his sanity, but no scars could ever mar your soul. No matter how many he bears himself.

His trembling servos find the fabric of your shirt and gently tug at it. Enough to send a signal, not to frighten. If you pull away—he’ll shatter.

"Hey," he begins. You glance at him briefly, but your eyes quickly return to the screen. He tugs harder, practically pawing at your stomach now, desperate for attention. "Please, I don’t want to watch the movie anymore. We can finish it another time, can’t we?"

He knows he’s repeating himself, using the same lines he always does. It’s cheap and undignified, unworthy of someone whom even Optimus Prime considered passing the Matrix to. But his need has consumed him, taken over his frame and spark, which craves you so intensely that static buzzes in his audials. Every molecule of his being chants your name, begging for you.

He moves closer, exerting pressure. It’s a dangerous game, one that could easily irritate you. But he’s so desperate he has to play his cards on this gambit.

"I promise we’ll finish it next time, okay? [Name], please, I need you."

"We could also finish it tonight, hmm?" you offer.

"But I already missed the most important part."

"You’re smart—you’ll catch up on the plot." He sees your playful smile, teasing him with your intentions. But this time, he’s too overwhelmed to join in the game.

One servo continues tugging at the edge of your shirt while the other slides beneath it, cautious and precise—while he still has the control to be so.

You finally give in, unable to focus on the film any longer.

"Alright, I’ll hold you to that," you warn, finally turning your head toward him.

What greets you are wide, pleading optics, shimmering with need. Begging for you. Beautiful, but deceptive. Luring you into a trap. Or maybe you’ve already been ensnared? Enchanted into letting him do more—letting his servo wander further up, finding its way to your chest.

"Incorrigible," you murmur, tilting your head slightly to one side, exposing your neck—his canvas for the evening. "But at least I’m not sleepy anymore."

"Good," he purrs near your neck. Warm, processed air brushes against your sensitive skin. "I’m going to show you how much you mean to me. I’m afraid it’ll take a very long time."

Servos press tightly to your body, while dentas leave their mark, creating art from love bites—one of his favorite human inventions. Such a pity he couldn’t bear them himself—would flaunt them proudly if he could.

"I wish they lasted forever," he whispers, kissing the bruised skin, already intoxicated by your closeness, even though it’s only a fraction of what he craves.

"And I don’t," you admit. His response is a hurt whine, but Smokescreen quickly resumes his work, moving slightly higher. His marks always came out messy, more like bites than love bites, but he was so proud of them that you couldn’t bring yourself to criticize him. At least, not directly.

"One of my friends noticed them once. She thought I’d been mauled by a wild animal."

You feel him smile against your skin because it’s an accurate description of his love. Wild, untamed.

"Sorry," but it's also unimaginably tender. "But you like them, right? I’m good at this, aren’t I?"

"You’re unmatched, love."

Not sensing the sarcasm, he holds you tighter, as if he wants to merge you both into one being. Feels his trembling spark yearning for a bond, a union with yours. And while you can’t grant him that, the mere act of sharing the most intimate, vulnerable parts of himself is satisfactory. Not enough, because nothing ever will be. Just like the love bites, the most blissful interfacing, or kisses and cuddles. They work for a brief moment, a fraction of existence. They fill the void, which begins emptying the moment you part.

"I need more," he groans. "Please. I need you."

"I wish you were this eager about watching movies."

You reach for the remote because yet another movie attempt has ended in failure. Your boyfriend doesn’t appreciate your effort to put some distance between you, even for a few millimeters. His servos hold you firmly in place, and his dentas possessively catch your neck. Luckily, you don’t have to reach far.

"We’ll manage next time," he promises, though the absent tone of his voice makes it clear he’s lying. You know he won’t last. He’ll falter at the start, trying to make up for lost time by showering you with affection, though it’ll only be a fraction of what he wants to give.

"Hard to believe that."

"Mhm, love you too," he mutters, utterly enraptured by your closeness.

[campbell-rose]

Helluva Mess

Now, Sinmas was just... Something.

Alright, now for some reason Blitz and the others hesitate to kill their target? So all of the sudden because it's gay it's an issue, when they did the exact same job in the first episode with no qualms? This show is so obnoxious.

I also hate how spoiled Stolas is, because it's not really funny. I think if I didn't hate him so much, i'd actually find some of his antics humorous, but... uh, nope. I just hate his guts. I hate how he's just some woobie at this point. The narrative is acting like he's done all these things to earn all the sympathy in the world, but he hasn't. Am I supposed to like him because of Mastermind? Well, that's not happening.

Millie being pregnant is fine, I don't care. At all. Which is just more proof of how little character she has to the point that I was just meh to the reveal. Now, the reaction to this development is more interesting than the actual plot point - Why in the name of god do people think it's SALLIE'S??? It makes my brain melt out of my ears just thinking about it.

Loona's hellhound form is just a wolf with a furry face and I hate it. She should've looked actually cool, but that's more of a subjective opinion rather than an actual criticism.

Now, the main point I want to rant about: Stella and Octavia.

First off. The way Octavia is treated as some sort of villain or in the wrong for cutting Stolas out of her life after he repeatedly hurt and chose Blitzo after her, her after the many chances she gave him to do better is just terrible. She's completely within her rights to cut him out, speaking from someone with similar experience with cutting out terrible family. Stolas is in the wrong, no matter how much the narrative tries to say otherwise or tries to act like he's taking responsibility. Her rant at Stolas is one hundred percent correct, she was absolutely in the right, Stolas is a selfish asshole and he chose Blitzo over her. She doesn't need to listen to him, she doesn't owe him anything. And I know the narrative is going to make her 'come around' like Blitzo said, but I really wish she wouldn't.

Second. Stella, sweet, poor Stella god why have they done this to you? She's so one dimensional and has no relationship with Octavia. Are Viv and the crew just allergic to Stella having any potential redeeming qualities? I think if she genuinely cared about Octavia and was irritated by Andrealphus taking her divorce and using it to further his agenda, then that would instantly give her the tiniest bit of depth. But we can't have good things in the Hellaverse.

In my rewrite, Stella's scorned and just wants to take her daughter and be happy and hates Stolas and her brother in equal measure. Enjoy a drawing I did of my rewrite versions.

[apute11as]

I hate it when she makes you laugh ~ Leah Williamson x CEO!reader

Summary: You get a new assistant and let’s just say Leah isn’t very good at hiding her jealousy.

Warnings:⚠️ None i’m pretty sure :)

word count: 2032

Author note: Based on THIS request (so sorry it took so long) Also, Leah never did her ACL, Covid never happened.

————

You had inherited an investment firm from your late grandfather 3 years ago when you were just 21. You had turned the the small town business into a multi billion dollar company, earning you a lot of attention from magazines, social media and other people in the investment industry.

Your mother had passed away when you were 15 and it was her father that owned the company so when he died, it transferred directly to you.

Being in the position you were, meant that you met with and attended many events with A-list celebrities, some of them being athletes. That was how you’d first met Leah, the two of you bonded over your shared distaste for the food menu, both agreeing you’d much prefer some toast over the variety of fish on offer. You’d laughed, drank and danced together throughout the night before she invited you back to her apartment, an invite that you gladly accepted.

You woke up the next morning with a fluttery feeling in your chest and a familiar ache between your legs, that told you enough about your night. The two of you had met up constantly after that, although you both had busy schedules. You’d ended up meeting her teammates and parents after a month of dating and safe to say they loved you.

——

Now, 2 years later you were 24 and she was 26 and you’d been officially dating for almost two years now. Life was blissful, Arsenal had just recently come second in the WSL (something you’d decided was a good result, much to your girlfriend’s disagreement) and all was well.

As for your company, the recent incline of growth, your advisors had insisted you get an assistant. You’d assured them that it wasn’t necessary and would just be a waste of time but after some convincing you reluctantly agreed. The interviewing process to find one was tough. You’d gone through several applicants before finding the right

one (you were particular in your choices of company). After a gruelling process that took more several hours, you finally decided on an assistant. Ava was 21, fresh out of Uni and had little experience. Despite this, you saw some of your younger self in her, admired her ambition and also she could hold a somewhat interesting conversation. Many of the applicants lacked personality and motivation, they were robotic and boring.

With that being said, you hired her. She fit in well into your life, as you were very precise in your task doing and a control freak at heart, something she seemed to understand all to well, considering she’d prepared your weekly schedule perfectly on her first day. You came home that day a little earlier than normal due to Ava’s organisational habits, surprising your girlfriend with the rarity of a home cooked meal on a weekday. The two of you discussed your new assistant over the warm lasagne you’d prepared for dinner. Although you saw Leah’s reaction as one of support and warmth towards your new employee, in reality she could feel the pangs of jealousy in her upper stomach as she listened to you ramble about how great Ava was and how much easier she’d made your week.

——

It was December, usually a quiet period of business as many people chose to save for Christmas and there weren’t many properties being sold. However, this year it was unusually busy, meaning you were staying out later and later in the office.

Leah didn’t mind this of course, she was more than understanding, knowing the pressure and stress your job brought. She waited up for you every night with a warm meal (takeaway or microwave as she was a horrendous cook). So when you came home at quarter to midnight after a long day, she was waiting for you.

The sight you saw upon entering your shared penthouse was one of Leah asleep on the sofa. Her blonde bangs stuck out in all directions as she was out cold, an episode of greys anatomy playing softly in the background.

“Oh my girl” you spoke softly, caressing her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings.

“Hi baby” she husked in a sleepy voice. “Have you eaten? There’s leftover pasta in the fridge I somehow managed not to burn it” she smiled to herself

“Thank you my love but me and Ava ordered food in a couple of hours ago” you replied returning her smile, hand drifting onto her shoulder.

“Oh right okay” she grumbled, shifting her body weight so your hand dropped down.

“I’m going to get changed into something comfy okay? Then we can cuddle” you left, oblivious to your girlfriend’s growing jealousy.

“Mmm” she hummed, eyes fixed on the television screen.

——

When you returned, you expected her to be asleep on the sofa but, as you’d went into the bathroom to freshen up, she’d crawled into your shared bed and was sat up on her phone.

You put down your toothbrush and shimmied your way into bed next to her, attempting to cuddle up to her but you were surprised when she shoved you away.

“You don’t smell like you” she complained. “Your perfume is vanilla, you smell like flowers it’s like a 16 year old” she scoffed

“Oh that’s odd, probably Ava’s perfume, she asked me to try and see what I thought. You don’t like it baby?” you questioned frowning at her body position, as she’d now turned away from you.

“No I don’t like it” she snapped, turning out the light and going to sleep

You were unsure what caused this sudden outburst but you knew Leah and knew not to push at it when she was in a mood so you let yourself drift slowly into sleep, making a mental note to bring it up tomorrow.

Her alarm went off bright and early at 7am as she had morning training. You decided to get up with her, despite not having to be in the office until 11am for a meeting. You went through the usual steps of your morning which involved showering (Leah opted against as it was easier to wait until after training), breakfast, dressing and prepping yourself for the day.

Leah was behaving seemingly normal this morning, whatever her issue was yesterday had appeared to have subsided. She hugged you from behind, adorned in her training gear, as you prepared breakfast tortillas for the two of you, wearing a black pantsuit yourself.

“Morning beautiful” she husked into you neck

“Morning my love, do you want ham or just cheese?” You questioned her preference as she was indecisive.

“what no peppers?”

“Do you like peppers Leah?”

“No” she mumbled into your back

“Then no peppers” you titled your head to crack a smile at the blonde

“Weird you’re not trying to sneak vegetables in me today” she laughed

Just as you were about to respond, you were interrupted by your phone blaring from its place on the counter.

“You get it babe, I’ll watch the food” she assured

You silently agreed, shifting to the counter to grab your phone, not bothering to look at the caller id before picking up and not bothering to realise you had speaker on.

“Morning Miss Y/L/N, I’m so sorry to bother you on your morning off” sounded Ava’s voice on the other side of the phone

“Sorry one second Ava I put you on speaker by mistake” you laughed shuffling into the bedroom and shutting the door, completely missing Leah’s expression shift to one of anger and her knuckles turn white from how hard she was gripping the frying pan.

Leah could hear the two of you conversing loudly in the other room. Although you’d turned Ava off speaker, she could still hear your responses. The conversation sounded awfully friendly for one between boss and employee, especially considering you’d been complaining to her this morning about how stressful today was supposed to be as you’d had a meeting with an important investor.

You snapped her out of her thoughts as you giggled like a school girl, laughter Leah interpreted as flirtatious. She was furious now, she trusted you whole heartedly but she didn’t for one second trust Ava. Also, although she’d never admit it, her insecurities in herself and your feelings toward her, played a big part in her jealousy.

——

You wandered out of the room a few minutes later, smiling at your phone as you’d realised that the meeting you’d been trying to get for weeks with a new client, had been arranged.

“You two were laughing an awful lot in there, what was so funny?” questioned Leah in a harsh tone.

“Oh haha nothing Ava just messed up something small with names and was calling to correct it” you laughed

“Hmm usually correcting something small doesn’t take a 10 minute phone call” Leah bit back.

“Noo but she did also tell me that the meeting with UOC inc. went through, we have some of their top board members coming in next week!” You beamed, proud of the accomplishments of your company.

“That’s amazing baby I’m so proud of you!” Leah smiled, pushing down her jealousy to be happy for you.

——

It was on Friday when her jealousy of your assistant finally came to your attention. You and Leah had somewhat of a Friday tradition between yourselves, where she’d meet you at your office at 7pm with food (usually a salad or sushi as she was on a strict diet plan). This happened every week without fail, no matter what the other had going on, even if that meant pushing it forwards or back a few hours, it still happened.

She’d stopped off at dominoes today as an extra treat to show how proud she was of you, after you texted her to say that UOC inc. were open to a deal that would see the company progress even further. She parked her car in your private parking, greeting Roman (a member of your security) on her way in. Excitement filled her body, she couldn’t wait to kiss you, to tell you how thrilled she was and how much she loved you. However the sight she was met when she opened your office door caught her off guard.

You were sat in your desk chair, Ava sat in the corner on your arm chair as the two of you laughed at a TikTok on her phone, a sure sign that you were definitely not just working late.

“Leah hey! Oh my god I didn’t even realise the time” you chuckled, checking the expensive watch she’d bough you last Christmas.

“Sure you didn’t, what’s she still doing here?” She snapped, gesturing harshly at Ava who had paled under the defender’s cold glare.

“She was just showing me something Leah, don’t be rude!” you cautioned, taking a tone of your own.

“Seems like she’s been showing you an awful lot lately doesn’t it and now she’s here, now, on a Friday?” She explained.

It finally hit you, her hands were balled into fists, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, Leah was jealous of Ava. You could’ve laughed at the irony but that would only provoke her more.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve eaten into your time y/n! Especially considering you’d planned to share it with your girlfriend. My boyfriend will be here in just a minute, thank you for the chat, I’ll see you Monday!” She blurted, shuffling awkwardly past Leah and practically bolting down the corridor.

“Boyfriend?” Leah huffed out.

“Yes Lee, boyfriend. I can’t believe you were jealous of my straight employee, who’s basically a teenager” you laughed openly at her.

“Ugh you’re so annoying” she sulked

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous baby” you cooed, pinching her cheek

“Oi get off” she slapped your hand away, rolling her eyes

“Is that for me” you beamed, gesturing to the bag of food in her hands.

“Not anymore” she sassed

“Oh yeah right” you scoffed, making a beeline for the bag, wrestling her to the floor.

“Hey you idiot” she giggled, a smile replacing her previous frown as you sat on top of her, making grabby hands at the food.

———

thank you for reading! <3 My requests and Dms are both open (even though it could take a little time for me to get around to) :)

[twst-drabbles]

Jade and Jamil 1

Summary: You wake up to the scent of food and go to the dining room. A feast awaits you, but it was made by the hands of Jade and Jamil, who broke into your dorm that you know you've locked up tight.

(Ugh, the writing slump is powerful during the winter... Anyways, have this yandere piece. It's rather tame compared to the other's I've wrote, so no warnings to be had beyond the general trespassing and all that.)

Jade's food tickles the curious part of you, the one that tends to indulge in morbid ideas and sights. Jamil, on the other hand, strikes right at the heart of comfort, with food made to take hold of your longing for home with their rich and familiar scents.

Unfortunately, when these different styles of dishes have been stuffed onto your table, it created a sickening experience. The clash of scents and colors kind of ruined your rather lax morning.

You didn't even let Jade and Jamil in here in the first place. You just wanted to sleep in until noon, get a small snack or something before going right back to bed until it was shower time.

"Why," you wanted to lift your shirt over your nose, "are you here? I didn't invite any of you."

"Ah, well, my apologizes for that," Jade took the initiative, as he was the only one not distracted with perfectly arranging the dishes on the table, "I've heard tell from a ghost or two that you haven't been eating as well as you could have. And since I know you to laze about well past the point of starvation, I've decided to let myself in and make a little something for you," he presented his side of the table, mushroom and fish dishes aplenty, all clearly experimental in nature, "all I ask in return is your enjoyment."

You more than suspect that half of these dishes are from his childhood. Much of it was raw, and those that are cooked were probably heated by a volcanic vent. You're more than sure that Jade has recipes that resemble the food on land but intentionally chose not to use them. Either way, it's a tossup as to whether it will agree with you or not, though there is not doubt that it would be an interesting flavor.

"Don't listen to him, I saw him pick the lock on the front door," Jamil, clearly irritated by Jade's audacity, popped his head from out the kitchen with utensils at hand, "Though I do have to agree with your eating habits. I know you skip breakfast and lately you've been passing up on lunch as well. If the problem is the food, then I'm more than sure I can solve that problem."

While Jade and Jamil didn't make eye contact with one another, the tension in their bodies was very clear to your eyes. And while the food in front of you was calling to you to pounce on it, you turned towards Jade and Jamil.

"Get out." There's no way you're eating in front of them.

Jade's spine stiffened and Jamil nearly tripped over air. But, as per usual, they were both quick to recover as if nothing happened at all.

Jade placed a hand on his chest, eyes thinning to a glare at Jamil. "Ah, I understand. Do you want me to escort Jamil out, then?"

Jamil gave a single laugh and returned that glare with a well mannered stare. "I'm very sure the Prefect meant you. You were the one that picked that lock, after all. I'm here to make sure you don't do anything funny."

Of course, of course. Meander about, pretend to mishear your words until you give up and let one of them stay, hoping that you learn not to bother.

Ugh. You're in a bad mood now.

"Out, both of you." You turn your back on the food and pulled out your phone. You went to the collective group chat that only continued to get bigger and bigger as time went on.

In it, you left a message: I have a literal feast in my dorm right now. Anyone want to eat it?

Jamil's and Jade's phone dinged. They pulled them out, and both pulled a collective frown. That made you smile.

And, of course, over half of your buddies replied positively to the news, and sent back that they're coming right away.

Jade snapped his phone in half, making your organs jump. Jamil had the composure to not do that, but he did stuff it into his pocket with a hiss of a sigh.

"…well then, I'll see you both later." Jamil dismissed himself first.

Jade didn't say a word, merely tightly smiling as he followed behind Jamil.

The door closed, and you breathed a sigh at the lighter atmosphere.

"Well, time for a snack." Something is better than nothing.

[lunaandco]

a little bit too old

pairing: pedri x ofc

summary: natalia pastor owns a luxury restaurant chain in spain. she's worked hard for her success, but has neglected the romantic aspect of her life. at 32, she should not be entertaining the advances of a hotshot, decade younger, footballer but... he makes some good arguments.

warnings: age gap

taglist: @htpssgavi; @joaosnovia

masterlist // I do not take requests

Natalia loved working on the kitchen. It was right where it all started, when she was twenty two, with a loan, an idea and the culinary degree under her arm. A decade later she owned the most successful luxury restaurant chain in Spain, she was a self made business woman that didn't need to work anymore.

And yet, she enjoyed going back to the kitchen and working with her chefs, make the dishes she had designed herself, for the rich patrons that could not tell the difference between a medium rare and a well done steak.

That was how she met him for the first time.

Her restaurants were no strangers to celebrities and famous characters from all over Spain, so when the rumour ran across the staff that Barcelona's midfield sensation was among the guests, Natalia did not think twice of it.

But Pedri was curious, and was accompanied by people that knew a thing or two about food, namely, his family, who all were involved in the running of their own small restaurant.

Natalia sometimes wished she had opened a small restaurant like that herself, with earthy homemade food and warm regulars. But she wanted to be in the avant-garde, in the elite. She wanted the Michelin stars, the money and the prestige.

The family was invited to see the kitchen after they finished dinner, when the restaurant was about to close. It wasn't unusual, specially if Natalia was around. Rich people liked to have exclusive experiences and things like that. Natalia had learnt how to satisfy them in that regard.

However, this family was a bit different. The older brother looked around in admiration, the eyes of a chef in development drinking it all. Natalia made a note of checking on his progress in culinary school. He might be an asset down the line.

The parents, meanwhile seemed interested in how big the kitchen was.

"If you leave me here alone I'll get lost," joked the father. Natalia smiled politely, as the mother squeezed her husband's arm. They seemed sweet.

And Pedri? He was listening out of politeness, but he was not looking at the kitchen. He was not looking at the food. He was looking at her.

And he was hungry.

Natalia squirmed a little. She was used to getting attention from men who considered her attractive, who wanted to own her. She had learned early on that men tended to be gold diggers as often as they complained about them, her few boyfriends when she was on her early twenties all tried to hijack the business from her. She was also used to older men flirting with her, wanting to turn her into their little housewife.

But the way Pedri looked at her, she could tell he wanted something else.

He was young, she knew that. Too young for her to actually entertain whatever he wanted.

But if felt nice, being looked like that. Like she was desirable.

It had been years since she chose to sleep with someone. In her late twenties, Natalia had had a few flings and one night stands, but with time she had grown bored an lazy. It was not worth it. She stood by it, still.

💙❤️

Pedri kept showing up. Sometimes with his family. sometimes with his friends, but Natalia got used to seeing him around. He was polite, never conplained, the kind of costumer everyone loved. The waiters adored him, said he was kind and charming.

Natalia tried to ignore the impending sense that something was going to happen. That he was going to do something. That this was the calm before the storm.

It was a warm September night, Champions League success still fresh in culers tongues, when Pedri showed up alone. He ate his food quietly, his cheeks permanently pink even if it was clear he had not done any exercise hours previous to the dinner.

Natalia made his dessert herself. It was a fruit salad, not the fanciest or more complex thing on the menu, but clearly the one that fit his diet the best.

When it was time to leave, Pedri dragged his feet. Natalia clocked it from the bar, where she was making a drink for herself. She knew it was a matter of time until he approached her, but instead of doing the right thing. and retreating back to the kitchen, she waited.

And he did reach her, a slight stammering and hands twitching at the sides of his body. He was charming. Natalia found herself mirroring his smile, leaning to hear every word tinted with Canarian accent.

He wanted to meet. A date, actually. Natalia giggled nervously.

"I think I'm a little bit too old for you, cariño," she told him, but Pedri shook his head.

"Not really."

"I'm a decade older than you," she protested.

"I know." Natalia's eyes darted around the room, checking that no-one was looking at them. Only Lupe was near enough to hear, preparing the drinks for a table of six. "I don't care," he insisted. "I... I've never been into girls my age."

"I..." Natalia gaped like a fish. It was rare that someone could catch her by surprise, but Pedri had managed. She wasn't sure what she expected him to say, he seemed hell bent on going on a date with her.

"You didn't say a straight no, though," he smiled. "I know age gaps like this can end up very badly, but I really want to try it."

Natalia sighed. This was a problem.

💙❤️

Her back hit the wall forcefully, but Natalia was too busy scratching the back of Pedri's neck, and returning the intensity of the kiss, to worry about it.

His hard body pressed her against the cool surface, arms caging her, thigh parting her legs and tongue slipping inside her mouth.

Her first assessment of Pedri being hungry was right. She had just not realised how starved he actually was.

Natalia bit his lower lip and he groaned, a hand reaching to grip her jaw and keep her in place. Usually she would insist on having the upper hand in a hook up, but there was no time to tell Pedri otherwise.

And for the first time in quite a long time, Natalia actually wanted to be led.

💙❤️

Pedri did not leave after they were done. He buried his face on Natalia's pillows, a low whine coming from his chest. Natalia's chest clenched with longing.

Those were bad news.

💙❤️

Natalia wished she could say had been responsible and ended the thing with Pedri, but before she realised, she was hanging out with him more often than not, texting at odd hours in the day, frowning at the odd gen z humour and memes he sent, trying to find the punchline; pet-sitting the cutest puppy in the world when Pedri was away for games, which meant he had to go to her house whenever he got back.

Pedri had a bright smile on his face everytime they met.

Natalia was at home, drafting the new menu for her restaurants, when Pedri showed up, Nilo in tow, and a bouquet of flowers on his hand.

"Buenas..." He grinned, giving her a peck. Natalia's heart clenched. It was undeniable that she had fallen for the boy, that all the precautions had not stopped him from taking a place on her life.

It was a dangerous game. Pedri was young, had a lot to learn and to explore. It was naive to think that he would want to settle down. And then there was the thing with his job. Natalia was mature enough to not let stereotypes cloud her judgement, but she also knew better than to fully trust a footballer to remain 100% loyal.

At least for the time being, when they had not specified anything in their relationship.

Or well, they hadn't. The flowers on Pedri's hand were suspicious as hell.

"Hi, baby," Natalia distracted herself by greeting Nilo, who's seemed to be happy to meet her wagging his tail and lolling his pink tongue.

When she looked up to Pedri, he had a tender expression on his face.

"Would you like to come to my next game?" He blurted. Natalia's breath catched on her throat.

"When is that game?" She asked, trying to make time, to organise her thoughts.

"Wednesday at nine. It's against Bayern..."

Champions fucking League.

The more Natalia delayed her response, the more Pedri's face contorted into a pained expression.

"It's okay if you can't or don't want to..." his tone was broken, Natalia gulped, swallowing all of her fears and insecurity. She could freak out later.

"I would love to," she admitted, and there was no lie on her mouth. Pedri's face broke into a grin.

💙❤️

Natalia managed to hide all her doubts until the moment she put a foot in Montjuic. She walked up the stairs, searching for her seat, among all the families. She found it next to a blonde, beautiful woman close to her age.

Natalia knew her. Anna Lewandowska and her family had gone to her restaurant a couple of times before, and she could tell that Anna recognised her too.

"Hey!" she greeted in accented Spanish. "What a nice surprise!"

Natalia replied with the same enthusiasm, anxiety crawling through her stomach.

"Who are you coming for?" The question she was dreading finally came. This part of the stands was reserved to family and friends, to be here, Natalia had to be invited.

"For Pedri," she said, loud enough to be heard. The smile froze on Anna's face. By the corner of her eye, she could see other women taking a pause. Natalia knew what all of them were thinking. What she thought herself.

Too old for Pedri.

"That's... wonderful," grinned Anna, trying to remain polite. Before Natalia could think of something, Fer slipped on the seat next to her, an arm dropping over her shoulders.

"Damn, I never thought my brother would finally find the balls to invite you," he said. When Natalia turned to look at him, he was smiling. There was no trace of judgement on his face. "Mami has been dying to meet you properly, you better come for dinner with us after."

The knot on Natalia's chest cam undone, the feeling of acceptance flooding her veins.

Oh. Oh.

Pedri's parents arrived a bit later. When they spotted her with their son, they lit up to the point that Natalia almost teared up.

💙❤️

Pedri rushed to them with flushed cheeks, an huge smile on his face, blabbering about the 4-1 victory and something about Tom Hiddleston wanting to talk.

Natalia could not hide the smile on her face, watching him talk and hug all his family like an overexcited ball of fluff. When he stopped in front of her, he kissed her. It was short and soft, but Pedri was smiling so brightly Natalia could only mirror him.

"You were wonderful," she told him. It was true. She had gasped as the crowd chanted his name, the same name engraved on her heart.

"Thank you."

"Pedri," called his father. "Don't you have a proper presentation to do?"

Natalia watched the boy flush.

"Can I introduce you as my girlfriend?" He asked, holding his breath waiting for the answer. "Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

Natalia took a deep breath. It was a bad idea. It was not socially acceptable. But she could not think about any of that as he looked at her, waiting.

"Yes," she accepted, before she could regret it.

[ytace]

May I request a platonic fic with Snape and a student. I was thinking maybe the students are iceskating on a frozen lake and the ice cracks below the reader making them fall in the frozen water and Snape comes to the rescue :3333 I give you free will on how you want to write it.

Thank yewww very muchhh, king 😋🧡

Oooh oooh also may I be your 🐍 anon

xx

Through the Cold, Into Safety

Ofc ^ feel free to submit me any more requests if you want to :D I was thinking this request really fits the vibe since its Usually Winter around this time of the month. I hope this could provide you some warm comfort

[Song Recommended to listen while reading]

Pairings: Student Reader X Professor Snape [Platonic]

Warnings: Drowning, Near Death Experience

Summary: Taking place where It's winter and the professors were given permission to hold certain classes outside, As you were skating on a frozen lake. You fell. And was rescued by Professor Snape

⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹₊⟡⋆⊹⊹

The chill of winter had settled across the grounds of Hogwarts, casting a soft, frosty glow over the castle and its surrounding landscape. The snow had been falling steadily all morning, blanketing the world in a serene silence. It was a day you had looked forward to all week, though it was far from a typical lesson.

Since it was winter, it was announced that the beginning of the week. Classes would be held mainly outside, nearby the frozen lake. To make things even much more interesting, you and your friends decided that it would be a good idea to ice skate on the frozen lake. Since it was a really rare chance for professors to allow students to roam around outside of hogwarts.

The professors brought everyone outside, students having the choice to either bring boots or skates. You chose skates, lacing up your skates, you felt a small smack on the back of your head.

"Come on, slowpoke! If you can catch me I'll treat you to anything you want in HoneyDukes!"

One of your friends called, already skating effortlessly across the ice. The others joined in, skating in wild, joyful loops, their laughter carrying through the crisp air. You grinned as you pushed off your blades towards them on your skates, The cold wind brushing past your face as you skillfully manoeuvred through the crowd of students to try to chase up to your friend.

"Crap! [Y/N]'s catching up- Just how the hell are you so fast?!"

Your friend yelled as they skimmed through the Lake, trying to lose you.

"Food," you said, your tone insouciant with a hinge of smugness, as you picked up the speed and skated towards the frozen lake, determined to catch up with your friend. You could feel the surge of radiating excitement as you continued the chase.

Suddenly, you hear a low, ominous crack beneath your feet. For a moment, it’s barely noticeable, just a faint shiver in the ice, but then the sound grows louder—a deep, thunderous rumble that shakes the ground beneath you. Panic surges through you as the crack spreads outward, a jagged line racing across the frozen lake.

You froze up a little in fear as you're about to turn back the other way from where you skated. Before your foot slipped, unable to regain your balance, you felt the ice shatter beneath you.

A loud crack could be heard before a splash.

A shriek of Fear was heard throughout the area, As you plunged and fell deep into the lake.

It was a sharp shock at first, the moment your skin touches the cold water. It was as if a thousand needles are pricking against your skin. Your body temperature was dropping deliberately, that it made it difficult to even breathe or gasp for air.

The Moment was so sudden that you didn't even have any time to react.

Everything was a blur, As the darkness beneath the lake slowly engulfs you..

"Is this it..?"

You silently thought to yourself.

Embracing what's to come, everything around you stirred in slow-mo.

The coldness was violently spreading through your skin, seeping in deeper and deeper. Until you feel numb, almost paralysed. Choking out every warmth you've had on your body.

You could only hear muffled noises through the thickness of the water... They were most likely from the students who witnessed the incident first-hand.

Before you saw a distorted view of black robes appearing at the edge of the water, with only limited amount of vision under water you could'nt really tell who it was. And then, without warning, you felt something yanked you out from the depths of the water.

"Wingardium Leviosa.."

You Gasped for air the moment your head got the chance to peak the surface. You're now floating In the air, drenched in icy cold lake water that soaked your robes from top to bottom. Droplets trickled off your robes, steady cascade down your arms and the fabric’s seams.

"P- professor- S..nape.." You try to utter the professor's name, But your still recovering from the near death experience. Teeths were chattering each other fiercely as if you didn't had any control over it.

He didn’t wait for a word of thanks. After Putting you down slowly from the air, his hands wrapped tightly around your wrist. Tugging you away from the dangerous edge of the ice and toward the shore.

"I didn't expect one of my students to be so foolish, especially you [Y/N].." Snape muttered under his breath.

He gave his wand a complicated little wave so that hot air streamed out of the tip, pointing it at your robes, which began to steam as they dried out.

"Hot Air Charm.." You recognised that charm immediately, as it was recently taught by Professor Flitwick. You remembered how he said this would be tested by the end of the semester, a charm used often in this type of weather.

"Being good at charms doesn't mean anything, when you are entirely incapable of taking care of yourself." Snape's voice, though sharp and scolding, held an undercurrent of concern that made your heart flutter.

"You are lucky to be alive. We’ll get you inside before you freeze to death."

As he Ushered you back into the school, leading you to the Common room.

There was something comforting about his presence, despite the usual air of frustration that followed him. You hadn't expected the scary dungeon professor to show such care.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely above the wind.

He said nothing at first, simply continuing to walk alongside you, but the moment you stepped into the common room He muttered.

"Don't Make a Habit out of this."

.~.

The warmth of the fire crackled softly in the common room, as you sank into an armchair near the hearth, your body Shivered less after letting out a deep sigh.

The relief palpable as you went to cradle a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. The rich aroma of the cocoa was comforting and alluring as if it was inviting you to take a sip...

Prepared to take your first sip. Snape's voice cut through the stillness.

"Not yet. Put that down," Snape instructed firmly, though not unkindly. "You will drink this first." He took out a small vial from his pocket.

You could see a thick, pale Blue liquid swirling inside the vial, with a scent that is oddly strong but soothing.

"Is that Calming Draught?.." You Asked.

"Indeed.." he replied, "Your body may have dried, but your mind needs settling. Drink this." He said as he handed over the vial.

"I don’t need a potion, Professor," you replied quietly, more out of instinct than conviction. You really did want the hot chocolate, something simple to help you forget the fear that still clung to you.

"Don't Be Stubborn Child.." Snape said sharply, stepping closer. "Anxiety, panic—these things are not easily conquered with something as trivial as hot chocolate."

Your gaze faltered as you looked back at the calming draught, feeling a bit foolish for having tried to dismiss his advice. Taking the vial, you held your breath and drank the draught in one gulp. It tasted bitter, almost medicinal, but as it slid down your throat..

You immediately felt the effects of the potion taking place.

A cool wave of calm sweeping through you. Your shoulders, which had been tight with anxiety, seemed to relax, and your breath became steadier.

It’s hardly surprising that the potion effect was effective, given that it was brewed by one of the best potions professor..

Noticing that you're now more relaxed, Snape gave you a curt nod but didn’t offer any further words of comfort.

"Professor.. Again.. uh- Thanks for saving me"

You broke the silence, Awkwardly. Knowing Snape wasn't really one for small talks.

"Don’t think for a second that I’ll tolerate any further recklessness when it comes to your safety...I will not always be there to save you from your own impulses."

You nodded quietly, his words more a reminder than a lecture...

As he turned and walked out of the common room, his robes swayed behind him with effortless elegance, leaving you in the warm solitude of the room. The soft crackling of the fireplace filled the silence, wrapping you in its comforting embrace...

[theoneeyedgoldenwolf]

Thoughts about Linked Universe's update (Central Room pt.3)

I've read some posts and realized that there has been lot of debate about the latest update on Linked Universe and the teams Time created. Yet, I think Time really has thought these through.

First of all, in Central Room pt.2 we can actually see Time listening and thinking things through. I mean, just look at Time’s expression in the first panel of fifth page. Not happy but he’s certainly thinking. He let Wild say his thing and he listened to Warriors too. Sure, he’s not happy of what either of them said but he didn’t stop either or say they were wrong or anything of else. He DID listen and let that affect his choices.

In Central Room pt.3, where Time establishes the groups, he took in what Wild said about being overprotective. Warriors suggested that he and Hyrule, a Knight and a Healer, will be with Twilight since Time’s that worried. Yet, Time didn’t put Twi with either. He chose SKY to pair with him. Sky whom is calm, gentle and caring but also very fierce fighter. I think that’s a good choice.

Considering being overprotective, Wild reminded of himself and the others being such towards Wind. And, as we’ve seen before, Time doesn’t exactly do such towards Wind. If we think about Time’s past, he’s been in Wind’s place. A kid with skills but people not recognizing that skill even when its shoved at their faces (at least in manga). In Divine Dark Reflections pt3 Time and Wind faced monsters together. They fought well and in unison and Time even said “Do not forget your discipline with the sword.” and later on even complimented him in the next part (Divine Dark Reflections pt4) by “In every battle, you have a little more of the look of a hero.”

So, yes, Time took in Wild’s comment and made sure Twilight and Wind wouldn’t be paired with ones whom would be overprotective on them. Himself included. He listened to Warriors and took in four groups, one of three and three of two persons.

Now, I’ve seen people being worried of Warriors and Wild being a team. Sure, it’s two inexperienced Temple goers but Wild does have Shrine experience. We also, in one of the post below “The works that became Linked Universe” called “doodlespt 6: knights, ladyfriends, face of displeasure” we have Wild and Warriors telling out their ranks and Wild salutes him while Warriors tells “No formalities”. They are Captain and a Knight with Wild also being Princess’ Personal Guard. There’s bit of contradiction of which of them is in higher rank. And yet, that might be what’s needed. They’re trying NOT to go by the ranks but they also can have sway over each other by the said ranks. And, considering Wild’s past, he’s not the Knight anymore either. So, yeah, this is interesting pairing and I think Warriors will be keeping good care of Wild while Wild might bring some experience with Shrines into going through a Temple.

Legend and Hyrule’s an unique pairing too. Time knows the two of them can work well together but considering how the other groups are formed, it’s bit hard to properly get the duo into with others. With Wild we have Disaster Duo by him and Hyrule (in the list “The works that became Linked Universe” part “lost”). So, yeah, not that duo. We already saw Legend and Wild not getting too well along as one’s an expert and another’s inexperienced (Entrance pt.2). So, all things considered Legend and Hyrule have no other choice than to be together. YET, telling them to fetch their items…. Yeah, how do you do that when you don’t have a map or know which of the roads ACTUALLY lead to the right place? O.o I mean that one of the other groups might find the Boomerangs since the duo’s way won’t lead to there. *shrugs*

Also the tag of “what could go wrong” clearly tells that there’s going to be some serious trouble ahead of the boys. Yet, this is a Temple. There’s always traps, monsters and puzzles to solve. It’ll be really cool to see how things go.

All this and the fact that the two of the shortest members are with the tallest member. He makes sure that if there’s height needed areas or things, he’ll be able to aid the duo. He didn’t say a word but it’s just an observation. Sure, they all have their own items and ways to clear this kind of situations but just something to think about.

Also, Time did give good words there too:

To Warriors: “Captain, I’d value your input on the remainder.” Means he thought what Warriors said and he did think things through. He’s grateful of his help and strategic mind.

To Legend: “Veteran, your experience is beyond question.” A CLEAR compliment there. “But it’s wasted on petty disputes.” A reprimanding and reminding of what’s at stake. Telling his knowledge is valued but he needs to think too before he acts.

To Legend AND Hyrule: “…overqualified…” He gives them the full notion of the duo having the most knowledge and experience out of all of them.

To Wind: “Hope you don’t mind this old man slowing you down” Playing a joke on himself and bit smiling! He’s letting Wind know he’s actions are fast and he has seen his skills.

Plus, what we seem to forget is the fact that we only know what’s been given to us. The meeting of the Heroes and overcoming the language barrier has NOT been shown to us. This means they’ve been working to get things workable for a while BEFORE we get the story or the short little things in the other posts. And this means that Time knows far more about the boys and the boys know about each other far more than what WE’RE aware of. Not to mention the very fact of Time calling Wind as “Hero of the Wind” in “heroes legacy” which means that the Chain has shared a lot about themselves already. Stuff that has not been show to us as of yet. Of course, though, THIS might be given behind the scenes during the Divine Dark Reflections as Wind asked stuff about Time’s first quest but we weren’t given info of WHAT they talked about.

OH! And I like that Warriors is like slowly and unnoticeably moving closer to Twilight when Time’s starting off by pairing Twi first. Just look at the swirly black line and where Warriors is at the next page. He was so ready to be paired with Twilight there. XD

Also, considering both Central Room pt.2 and pt.3, the boys are honestly listening and really showing the fact that Time’s the leader. They gathered around him when he called them together. None of them argued back when Time made the teams. I really love how much they show the fact of Time’s words and mood affecting them. Even in part Likelike, they took in Time’s reprimanding. They really care about what he says or does.

And now, as last thing, all the teams need to do is to choose who goes to what road. XD

So, um, yeah…. Just trying to defend Time a bit. ^^;;

Links to the given notions of specific pages / posts of Linked Universe:

The heroes legacy:

The Entrance pt.2:

The lost:

The talk about ranks and formalities:

The Divine Dark Reflections pt3:

The Likelike:

[bluestar22x]

Boo!

Summary: You buy a mansion on the cheap having no idea it's haunted by the previous owner's friend

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ (mature readers only)

Word Count: 5,900(ish)

Warnings: "Enemies" to lovers vibes (they annoy each other at first), recreational drug use mentioned, medical stuff, subtitle mentions of sex/yearning, ghost Dieter follows you around the house but isn't a total creep about it - he's just really bored and invisible, AU?, foul language, fluff

Author’s Note: This was created for Jamie's Halloween Writing Challenge by @mermaidgirl30 - I already had the idea of writing ghost Dieter before this challenge, so I thought it was the perfect time to write it up. The theme I chose is "haunted mansion" for obvious reasons. I was slightly inspired by a movie some may or may not know.

xxx

You had bought the mansion on the cheap - hardly a million dollars despite the huge, modern layout.

Just outside of New Orleans, the mansion was only one of three you owned as an unusually successful author. One of the few that had gotten rich off of making a crime novel series that had later become a successful drama show that was still running after five years - a true feat in modern entertainment.

Your other two mansions were in Los Angeles and Denver, the first being your main home when working and the second being a winter holiday escape, a place where you could go and experience what winter was supposed to be like. You had grown up in Maine, and it hadn't taken you long after moving to Los Angeles to miss the changing of the seasons, even if you didn't quite miss the often dreary weather.

This mansion in Louisiana was supposed to be another escape, one close to a city with rich history and lore. Spooky lore, that was. You were thinking about writing a vampire series - what better place to inspire you than New Orleans?

Though you'd moved there specifically for the stories of monsters in the dark, you avoided the creepy mansions listed on the realtor sites like a plague. Just cause you were interested in writing it, didn't mean you wanted to live a horror-themed novel.

Your mansion was boring compared to the centuries old mansions and plantations nearby and far from any swampland. It was also only ten years old - a baby mansion that had little chance of having been able to attract attention from any supernatural beings.

Not that you really believed in them, but you were the type not to press your luck. Every time you had in the past, you'd paid for it.

However, the universe had to have been against you, as it often was, because after only one week in your new vacation home strange things started happening.

It began with misplaced items, something easy to dismiss when you were still unpacking and organizing the place. You'd set down a mug of coffee on the countertop and find it on the bar later on or, to your dismay, the living room end table without a drink coaster underneath it. You'd throw a fresh shirt on the bed and enter the bathroom to take a shower and find the shirt on the floor when you returned. You'd place the manuscripts on your desk in a neat pile and find them disorganized the next morning. Things like that.

Then after a month more concerning things started happening. You'd lock a door and find it unlocked minutes later. You'd hear heavy footsteps on the second floor when you were in the kitchen or living room downstairs and you knew no one else was in the house. You'd see doors creak open on their own when they hadn't done that before.

Suddenly the cream colored modern mansion felt unsafe despite the high tech alarm system being in full working order and having never gone off.

You took to listening to music almost constantly, attempting to block out the feeling of unease you felt when everything was quiet. What you thought was your irrational side screamed at you to leave, to sell the place and go hang out at your Denver mansion or return to your main home, but your stubborn, so called rational side balked at the idea. You didn't want to admit defeat against a haunting you were pretty sure was all in your head or had explanations that were not of the supernatural kind.

Then one morning, the day before Halloween, you wandered downstairs to find a strange man sitting at your bar, dressed in ripped blue jeans, a dark tan oxford shirt, and a pair of tan slip on sneakers. You also had time to note that he had a graying patchy beard, sunglasses, and a single gold loop earring attached to his left ear before the fear set in and you screamed.

There was a complete stranger in your house! An interloper! Whatever his reason for being in your kitchen was, it had to be no good.

"Holy shit, you're loud!" he snapped, jumping in his seat. "Why are you freaking out so early in the morning?"

He turned to face you and his jaw dropped when he realized you were starring directly at him. "Wait, can you fucking see me?"

"Of course I can fucking see you," you spat. "You're in the middle of my kitchen, seated at my bar. Get the fuck out before I call the police!"

The man rubbed at his temple, his head pounding, which was really unfair, he thought, considering his situation. "Lady, if I could, I would, you are the saddest company I've ever kept, but unfortunately I have no say in the matter. I was here before you and I can't leave. Believe me, I've tried."

"Clearly you haven't tried enough," you hissed, pointing an index finger at the front door. "Try again."

He sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, though you couldn't see the latter action behind his shades. "Fine, if you insist."

He pushed himself away from the bar, sliding off the stool he'd been seated on, and headed for the door. He opened it and glanced back at you, finding that you'd trailed him with a glass vase in your hand.

At least you were a resourceful recluse.

He braced himself for the sensation of being catapulted back into the mansion and sure enough, as soon as he stepped through the threshold he felt whatever force that was keeping him inside push him back.

He landed on the tile floor several feet away from the door in the mess of his long limbs. "Oof."

"What the fuck?!" He heard you yelp and he groaned.

"Told you."

"What the hell was that?"

He stood up slowly and massaged his lower back. "That was what's keeping me from leaving, sunshine. Now that you've seen why I can't go, I'll let you guess how this situation began."

"A voodoo priest cursed you to eternity in here?" you guessed, purposely trying to come up with what you thought would be a ridiculous answer. You still were trying to recover from what you'd just witnessed. People didn't just get thrown by invisible forces, yet there was no realistic explanation for what you'd just seen.

"I wish," the man huffed. "But it's not a curse. Not as far as I'm aware. Well, maybe. Maybe some god thought it would be funny. But I'm pretty damn sure it wasn't a person who did this. I don't remember much, but the last thing I do remember before this was partying with a friend, breaking my one year drug sobriety with a dose of some pretty fine cocaine, and then waking up splayed out in the middle of the living room - a very empty living room. By the time I worked through my denial over what had happened to me, you had moved in."

"You overdosed?" you questioned, breath catching because that would mean...

"Yeah, that's what I figured," he replied. "I'm not one hundred percent sure about it. Usually I was always careful about that. But it's not like I hadn't overdosed before." He put his hand out - "Long story." - And sighed heavily. "All I know is I'm dead."

You covered your mouth in shock as you pieced it all together. "You are the one that was moving things, making noises. Did you do that on purpose?"

"What? To scare you?" He looked amused. "I wish I was that clever. Maybe I'd have better company by now. But that was just me trying to keep my sanity. You don't know how maddening it is to wander around a boring mansion all day unable to interact with anything, not even a damn spoon. I'm not good with isolation. Glad the practice paid off."

You walked into the living room and collapsed into your leather couch. "This can't be happening."

He took off his sunglasses as he followed you in and you met his dark but surprising soft eyes for a moment. "What's your name, anyways?"

He placed a hand over his chest and acted shocked, a little stung by your lack of familiarity with him. You could tell he was just being dramatic and didn't really care. "You don't know? Hint: I was an actor who was having a great Hollywood comeback when I died."

Your mind was blank. You didn't know a lot of actors by name, or by face for that matter. You didn't watch a lot of TV and movies, your preferred entertainment being reading. Your office walls were covered by filled bookshelves.

You shrugged at him.

"Dieter Bravo," he told you. "My name is Dieter Bravo. Almost everyone I know calls me Dee though."

"Do I know you now?" you inquired.

"Hardly," he snorted. "But I know you enough, unfortunately, no offense."

You rolled your eyes at him, annoyed. "You can't insult me then claim no offense. I'm gonna take offense. Especially since we've never even talked before now."

"Sorry," Dieter apologized half-heartedly. "I've just been going crazy and all you do is sit at your desk writing or read on the couch. And you seem to prefer it that way."

"Introverts do, yes," you said. "But I can be fun when I want to be. I'm going on a tour of the city tomorrow."

You didn't mention that you were going alone. You hadn't made any friends in the city yet. That always took you a while. Something that most actors probably had little trouble doing. People begged for their friendship or more, didn't they?

"Is it one of those ghost tours?" he asked. "Cause that would be ironic."

You held your tongue and kept your comment about him having used the word ironic wrongly to yourself. You were pretty sure that was something someone boring would point out. You weren't sure why you cared about what a dead addicted actor thought about you, but you did for some stupid reason. Probably because his untamed curly hair looked very tuggable and his jeans were tight in all the right places and you hadn't been laid since your last book tour. Handsome guys were your weakness. You weren't usually into jerks or addicts though. Losers, as far as you were concerned.

Instead, you let your mind wander to all those times you'd heard things moving around while you were undressed or in bed. "Please tell me you haven't been stalking me this entire time."

"Stalking is a strong word," he protested. "We're in the same house for hours on end. We have silently interacted, or rather been in the same room. And I might have been watching you, but only when you were dressed, cross my heart."

"That's comforting," you said sarcastically, but you believed him. No one with so much disdain towards your daily activities would have bothered to peep on you, would they? But he could be the type who didn't care if a girl had personality, as long as she had boobs, right?

You decided it was not worth the trouble thinking about. Not when you had no idea how to get him to move on, or at least get him out of your mansion.

"So, what unfinished business is keeping you here?" you inquired. "Last I heard that's the only way either of us is going to get some peace in the forseeable future."

"Ouch. Fair."

"Do you know?"

Dieter shook his head. "What unfinished business don't I have? My latest movie will never finish filming, my girlfriend broke up with me over the damn phone on my way here, I have no idea if Perry overdosed too or if he's still alive, and my family all hate me."

"Surely not," you said. "They just didn't know how to help you with your addictions anymore."

Dieter blinked at you. "I thought you didn't know anything about me?"

"I don't," you replied. "But I've had a couple relatives, not close ones, but still, they got addicted to painkillers and they wouldn't let the family help them, so my family got angry at them and gave up trying. You can't help those who don't want to be saved is how my mother put it."

"What if they wanted to be saved but didn't know how to accept help?"

The vulnerable question, seemingly uncharacteristic, threw you off. You stared at him and Dieter glanced away. "Just asking," he muttered.

"I don't know," you told him honestly. "Same applies. It can't be one sided. They would've had to find a way to accept it. But they didn't. And they've been buried six feet under for five years now."

Dieter nodded.

"I don't think I could help you with your family issues," you continued on. "But I can tell you Perry is alive, if he is the same Perry who owned this place as I assume. He sold me the mansion three months ago, a month before I moved in."

"That's good," he said, scratching at his neck. "I knew from your calendar and your phone that it has been six months since I died, but I didn't know if he was still alive. I can't remember him ever coming back. Maybe he did and I just wasn't...aware at the moment. Time is different now for me. And I think ghosts actually sleep too. Kinda."

"The realtor showed me this place," you told him. "Perry only showed up to finalize the paperwork at her office. Maybe it was too painful for him to come back?"

Dieter pursed his lips. "Maybe."

"Did that help?" you asked hopefully. "See any doors or light to go into?"

He barked out a laugh. "If only! But there's nothing. Guess we're not getting rid of each other that easily." There was a gleam in his eyes that suggested he wasn't as annoyed about it as he was before. It was actually playful.

"Too bad," you stated, smirking.

He chuckled. "At least we can talk now."

"That we can, so long as you promise not to keep watching me like an invisible creep while I sleep," you said.

"I do not."

"I've felt it," you hissed.

"It's hard to look away," he admitted. "You do know you drool, right?"

"Shut up."

x

After your first run in with Dieter you didn't see him for a few days, and you wondered if he'd finally moved on, but of course, no such luck.

You choked on dinner when he popped up next to you at the dining room table on the fourth day.

"Sorry, didn't mean to almost kill you," he said humorously, patting your back.

You felt nothing when he did it. Maybe a cold breeze, but nothing really notable.

"Where've you been?" you inquired once you'd recovered.

"No idea," Dieter answered. "I think showing myself to you all afternoon zapped all my 'spirit' energy. What day is it?"

"November three."

"Damn. Oh well."

"You going to use your newfound 'spirit energy' to find a way to move on?"

He pouted. "Said like I wasn't trying to do that before. And jeez, in a rush, are we?"

You huffed. Like he'd given you a reason not to want it fast. It would be way better for you both once he found peace.

"Aren't you?"

"Of course I am!" he shouted before pointing a finger at you. "But I'm not leaving before I give you this advice: don't wear jeans on the night of your death. You may think they're comfy, but they're not. Not after weeks, months in them. I miss my pajamas. My robe."

He sighed wistfully and you couldn't help but chuckle at him. "Alright, advice taken."

He whirled and phased back into invisibility, leaving you alone until the next morning, when he nearly made you choke on your breakfast.

x

Days turned into weeks like this, with Dieter spending minimal time with you as he made attempts to figure out what he needed to do to be free of the mansion, as he tried to make peace with the things that haunted him in hopes that resolving his unfinished business would open the beyond up to him, but slowly, the more hope he lost, the more time he spent with you.

It started with meals, watching you eat and participating in discourse that became less and less hesitant and hostile over time, turning into shockingly friendly debates and banter.

It turned out Dieter wasn't so bad to be around and he wasn't the loser you'd thought he was, or had been. One search of his wikipedia page and a few youtube videos had settled that for you. He had worked hard to gain his success, spending nearly a decade taking guest star role after guest star role, working in a bar when the roles and his money dried up. And when he did find a major role to catapult his career, he continued to take as many roles as he could.

He was known for partying hard on weekends, but he never showed up for work high.

He enjoyed comfy clothes on his time off, and especially loved wearing his light green robe, sometimes even going to his local coffee shop in it, but he cleaned up well for interviews and other important functions.

Dieter had a good reputation despite his addictions. It seemed like his fellow cast members always had nice things to say about him, even those who worked with him on the disastrous set of Cliff Beasts 6, which was apparently where he'd had his first overdose.

By Thanksgiving you were solid friends, and after you left for the holiday to visit your parents and home in LA, you returned with a souvenir for you both - a fridge magnet with a picture of the city buildings just beyond the Hollywood sign. You'd noticed Dieter seemed homesick and you sometimes felt it too. But you wouldn't leave New Orleans until Dieter figured out how to move on or until you were forced to. The magnet gave you a daily reminder of what it looked like.

As Christmas neared, Dieter began hanging out with you in the living room at night, watching whatever you were watching, which were mostly Christmas movies in December. He did it even when you watched Hallmark, though he'd roll his eyes and make sarcastic comments about the plot throughout those.

"They always fight and break up over an assumption," he rattled on more times than you could count. "Dumb ones at that. His jealous ex flaunts her a ring and says it is from him and the leading lady just bolts without asking him if it's true? And they said I needed therapy."

"You needed therapy."

"Well, not as bad as that bird."

Dieter couldn't leave the house to get you a Christmas gift, and you'd agreed you both would spend Christmas Eve, the night before your parents arrived to celebrate the holiday, just curled up on the couch together as usual, but that hadn't stopped him from giving you something anyway.

He'd thrown a box at you, unwrapped and told you to look inside and you'd found a beautiful charcoal drawing of you writing away at your desk inside. The sight of it made your breath catch.

"You did this yourself?" you questioned, stunned.

"Yeah," he replied. "It took a lot of energy out of me, but I got it done in a few days. I know we said no gifts, but I wanted to give you something anyway. You know, since I can't pay rent."

He'd expected you to laugh at the comment but you were too busy studying the image. He'd gotten every detail, right down to your blemishes. He'd put a lot of care into drawing you. It felt...reverent.

When you tilted your head up to look at him, you did it differently. You saw him in a new light. And though he was in the same jeans and shirt as he always was, you thought he looked particularly handsome in that moment, chocolate eyes hopeful.

"So, do you like it?" he asked nervously.

"I love it," you assured him. "But I...didn't get anything for you."

"It's okay," he said, "Free rent."

"You are the least messy roommate I've ever had," you told him. "But you've got to stop sneaking up on me and making the rooms cold."

"The temperature is out of my hands," Dieter said, shrugging. "Unless you want me to turn up the thermostat. I've mastered turning dials."

You smiled. "I'm good tonight."

x

You should've known better than to get drunk alone on New Year's Eve, but you did.

No, you weren't alone, alone, but you were the only one drinking since Dieter was not physically able to drink. And he should've been the last person you'd hang out with drunk.

Being drunk made you silly, made you excitable, and it also made you bold.

One minute you and Dieter were laughing loudly, and the next you were leaning towards him. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure. Anything."

You leaned in closer and lowered your voice, "It really sucks you are dead, Dee. It sucks because I really wish we could kiss right now."

Dieter stared at you, dumbfounded, but the shock quickly turned into glee. "We could still, you know."

"You've gotten good at making yourself more solid," you said, "But I can't feel you whenever you touch me, Dee. I don't notice it unless I see you doing it. That's the only way I know. By sight."

"Well, you've never focused on it before, have you?" he inquired. "It always takes me a lot of focus to hold anything, even a pen, for long, but I do."

"It may not seem that way, me being a writer, but I'm terrible at focusing," you admitted.

Dieter brushed your cheek compulsively and you smiled weakly at him.

"Can we try something out?" he asked.

"What'd you have in mind?"

He nodded at the couch. "Turn off the lights and lay down on your back and close your eyes."

You raised your eyebrows questioningly, and he flashed you a reassuring smile. "Trust me."

You did as ordered and Dieter took a moment to take your prone form in, peering through the darkness, and he noticed how your fingers were twitching due to your inability to ever keep perfectly still.

He couldn't believe he was finally going to kiss you. Two months ago he wouldn't have wanted to. He'd had bigger concerns, and you weren't his usual type.

But with time and forced proximity he'd grown to enjoy your company. You were smart, generous, surprisingly witty, and he'd always found you pretty.

He doubted he deserved you, he was certain you were better than him, but you wanted him to kiss you, and lately he'd wanted that too. He couldn't deny you.

He approached the couch and sat down next to you, leaning over you so his face hovered above yours.

"Try to clear your mind."

You nodded and did as told, doing your best to keep all thoughts at bay while your heart thudded in anticipation against your rib cage.

Then you felt his lips on yours. They weren't warm or cold, soft or chapped, and they didn't taste like anything, but you could feel the pressure of them. You could feel when he moved his lips, when he deepened the kiss, when his hand reached out to cradle your face.

You reached up for him automatically, your eyes still shut, and you could feel his strong neck under your hands, could feel the tips of his curls at the base of it.

There was something electric about the moment, and you moaned softly as you let the sensation consume you. The more you got lost in it, the more kissing Dieter felt real.

It was sobering.

You gently pushed him away and opened your eyes to find him gazing back into yours, a confused look on his face. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head as tears flooded your eyes. "I can't, Dee. I can't do this with you. You're dead."

"Pretty sure we just did," he said, wiggling his brows suggestively. "And if we can do that, imagine what else we might be able to do with time."

"I can't," you repeated. "Someday you will move on and I'll be alone again."

"I'll wait to move on only after you die," he declared. "Problem solved."

You shook your head again, harder. "That's unfair for us both and you know it. I don't want to spend my life keeping you a secret, and you don't want to stay cooped up in this house for another four or more decades. You'll go mad."

"Not with you here," he swore, his hand gliding down to squeeze your upper arm.

"I can't take that chance," you said, standing up. "I'm sorry."

You began to walk away, but in the archway to the hall you turned to face him again.

"You should keep looking for your way out," you told him. "Make it your priority again. Cause next week I'm headed back to LA. I've got a book that's going to hit shelves in three weeks and my editor wants to plan some last minute fan meet ups for when it does. I can't stay here while we're doing that."

You tried to avoid looking at Dieter's face but you still got a glimpse of the hurt on it.

He was so upset he didn't say anything to you back, and you told yourself silently that it was easier that way.

You climbed the stairs, quickly curled up in bed under your sheets, and tried to think about anything but him until you fell asleep.

You had no idea that when you woke up in the morning, he'd be gone.

x

Steady beeping was the first thing Dieter registered when he gained consciousness in the hospital, but it was far from the least pleasant thing about the experience. That had gone to the bright lights briefly, then to the uncomfortable feeling of his feeding tube that was pulled through one of his nostrils.

Dieter would never call waking up from his coma fun. It had been confusing and exhausting (he thought that was ironic) and he’d been sore from not moving for a long time, but at least that discomfort felt short compared to what came after.

He'd been in a coma for nearly a year and that had taken a toll on his body, along with the seizure that had caused him to go into it in the first place, a side effect of his long term use of hard drugs.

He had most of his mind right from the start, but his body was weak and had loss some of the connections he'd made as a child to do simple functions like walking and eating with a fork. Frustratingly, he'd had to learn it all back again.

His only solstice was that his parents were there every step of the way. They'd had him transferred to LA after he woke up and had regularly visited him in the hospital and Dieter kinda wished he'd heard them while he was taking his long sleep. What had they said to him?

Probably what they'd been saying since. His parents rarely missed a chance to tell him they loved him, that they regretted letting his addictions come between them.

"It was my fault," he'd told them, but they'd shaken their heads.

"We didn't go about finding you help like we should've. We gave up too fast."

Dieter didn't care about that though. He was just grateful to have them back in his life. To still have a life at all.

He didn't remember the fateful night that had led to his coma, but he was able to video chat with Perry on his laptop and his friend filled in the blanks.

They'd gotten together and Perry had given him all the cocaine he could ask for. They'd gotten comfortable on the couch and rode out their highs talking about the trouble they used to get into in high school. Then he had began seizing sometime after midnight and Perry had dialed 911.

Even with the fill in, Dieter felt he was missing something. Something important. But any time he tried to recall his night with Perry, he got nothing.

He had dreams though, often several times a week, of him patrolling Perry's mansion alone, of an attractive woman chatting away with him at the dining room table, of him kissing her in the shadows of the night, and those felt like the missing pieces, lost memories, but they couldn't be. He couldn't have been a ghost while he was in the coma, he reasoned.

But all the reasoning in the world wouldn't allow him to shake it off. Eventually he caved and asked Perry, who was visiting him after getting out of rehab, to describe the woman who had bought the mansion from him.

When he gave every detail he could think of, Dieter was flabbergasted.

The woman Perry had detailed sounded exactly like the woman in his dreams...

But it couldn't be, could it?

He decided there was only one way to find out.

As soon as he was back to full strength, he'd fly out to New Orleans and knock on your door.

He'd find out once and for all if any of it had been real.

x

He didn't mean to go to New Orleans on Halloween, but that's how it ended up - with him on an early flight to one of the spookiest cities in the world on the arguably spookiest day of the year.

He took a taxi to get to your house and hesitantly made his way to the front door.

How should he go about telling you he had dreams about you? To ask if you knew him when he was in his coma and was a ghost? What if it had really all been in his head?

There were several carved orange pumpkins on the front porch - jack o' lanterns - something he didn't remember you having last year, and they immediately sent him into a spiral of deep uncertainty.

She can't be her, he thought. She didn't decorate for Halloween last year.

It was kind of ridiculous to assume that just because you hadn't had Halloween decorations one year you wouldn't have them the next, but that was how much he was doubting himself.

He took a moment to beat down his nerves on your doorstep, shake it off, then knocked, not knowing if you'd hear it or if you were even on the same side of the house. Not knowing if you were home at all.

You were both shocked when you opened the door and found yourselves staring at each other.

How could it be? You'd assumed Dieter had moved on well over half a year ago, and yet there he was before you, looking very much alive and in a fresh pair of black jeans and an olive green button down shirt that was basically his tan shirt's twin.

"Holy shit, I didn't think you were actually real!" Dieter exclaimed.

"Are you?" you inquired. "Last I knew you were dead. What the fuck?"

He guffawed and you marveled at the way the skin around his eyes crinkled, at how they shined with life. His hair was more gray than you remembered, but it only added to how alive he looked.

"It turns out I wasn't actually dead," he explained. "I was in a coma. I woke up in a hospital bed back in January and found out I'd been unconscious for several months. I didn't overdose, but I'd had seizures from the cocaine I took. I had no idea that could be a side effect. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived, let alone had a full recovery."

You stepped outside with him. "And you've stayed clean?"

He huffed. "Of fuckin' course. I'm not a complete idiot. I'm not going through that shit again. Physical therapy was a bigger pain in my ass than any of the cravings could ever be."

You laughed briefly before your expression turned serious again. "That's good."

"I wanted to see you sooner," he told you, scratching at his cheek over the beard he still had, though it was more neatly trimmed than it had been the last time you'd seen him. "But I wanted to be fully recovered before I flew back out here, and for part of that time I didn't remember being here. Not even the night me and Perry hung out in the living room."

You folded your arms, nodded, and pursed your lips. "So how much do you remember now?"

You tried to keep your expectations low but there was a knife stabbing at your heart when you realized that he might not be able to recall much of you at all. Did he even remember your kiss?

Dieter smiled. "I remember us not getting off on the right foot, and maybe scaring you on purpose a few times."

You gaped at him. "I KNEW it!"

He grinned slyly and continued, "I remember how we used to talk a lot, and how that would drain my energy right out, but I'd always linger a little too long, until I had no choice but to slip into the darkness to rest for a while. I remember loving your sarcastic sense of humor and the way you lose your breath when you laugh too hard. And I...remember that night, when we kissed."

That had been something else. Unexpectedly titillating. It was by far the sharpest memory he had of that time he'd spent between worlds.

"I don't know if you remember it, but I regretted every day since that I said what I said that night," you told him, chewing your lip.

He nodded. "I remember. But you weren't wrong. You deserve to be with someone breathing, and I was really getting sick of being stuck in the house."

You chuckled but the sound was cut short when you felt him palm your cheek.

He was sooo warm. Real.

Your stomach fluttered when your eyes met.

"I thought I'd never get to say goodbye," you whispered. "All I wanted after I woke up to an empty house was to get that chance. But this, this is so much better."

"I missed you," Dieter admitted, drawing closer to you.

You beamed at him and he felt his chest warm.

"I missed you too."

He pulled you into a kiss, far more passionate than the first you'd shared, and you gripped onto his elbows tightly, fiercely clinging to him, almost afraid to let go.

When you eventually did, you smirked at him. "You're a day late for our anniversary, you know."

"First meetings do not count," he claimed.

"Oh yes they do," you countered.

"Well, excuse me for fuckin' forgetting to fly out yesterday. Pretty sure I still have some brain damage."

You huffed playfully. "Excuses."

Dieter shook his head at you fondly and kissed you again.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

xxx

[redactedrem]

You know what? Fuck you. *Ponifies Batman*

Guys I'm so excited to share my newest project of ponifying the Batfam, it started out small with the hypothetical "I wonder what Batman would be like in a mlp universe." And then the project kept getting bigger and bigger.

If anyones interested in my world building/ headcanons surrounding this project, you can see it under the cut. (I didn't want to make the post too long.)

Incase anybody couldn't read my bad handwriting, I gotchuuu.

-(First pic) Bruce Wayne: Bruce had got his cutiemark the night of his parents death, after the grief had broken his spirit and he realized that he never wanted anypony else to feel the same pain as he does. (He has a fake cutiemark to cover up his obvious destiny)

- The first pic is pretty self explanatory, but I want to make it clear that Bruce's destiny isn't "My parents are dead so now I dress up as a bat and beat up mentally ill folk". Because I've seen people on here give hot takes on cutiemarks that directly link them to a ponies destiny.

This goes for specifically in the mlp fandom but (for the sake of being on topic) I'll use the the example of that one post where someone gave the hot take that Jason would get his cutiemark in the warehouse right before he dies (or after he dies? smthing like that) because "It would be really fucked up to know that you were always destined to die." And listen, I can appreciate some good Jason Todd whump as the next guy but knowing that this would be based in a mlp universe . . . just doesn't sit right with me.

It sounds less magical that way. Its like saying that Rainbow Dash was always meant to be the fastest flyer, so theres no point in trying to compete with her. So uhm, trying to stay on topic here. My personal hot take is that a pony's cutiemark is symbol of something that they do/ a skill or talent that they have that makes them happy. And whats a more magical and fulfilling destiny than doing something that makes you happy for the rest of your life?

Looping back to Bruce, he didn't get his cutiemark the moment his parents died, but I like to think that he got it sometime later on in the night. After hours of being checked on by the police, getting looked at by the paramedics, and after Alfred took him home. Its 1:40ish in the morning and tiny foal-Bruce is just staring at his bedroom wall feeling numb and dissociated to hell. And sometime after processing everything that night- he just decides that this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him and that he will do anything to make sure that nopony will ever feel the same pain that he has felt. And then-- Ta da!! Cutiemark!! Too bad neither he or Alfred got to experience the excitement when they both saw it the next day :')

(Edit: I didn't know where to put this detail, but Bruce's fake cutiemark is based off of the "Make It Wayne" TV logo from this fanfic here )

-(Second pic) The Bat: This is heavily inspired by Flutterbat, I know theres canonically already a race of bat ponies made from Lunas stunt as Nightmare Moon. But I chose to go through with the Flutterbat route because batponies are a race, and have bat-like features 24/7. In comparison Fluttershy maintains her pegasus appearance by day and transforms into Flutterbat at night (ALSO with there being implications that there are "Triggers" for her transformations in the day too!!) Which adds the "Vampire." right in front of her batpony title.

I might do a lil comparison chart between vampire batponies and regular batponies in the future or something. But for now I'm focusing on my batpony Bruce Wayne headcanons so yea. My point is that I felt like making Bruce a "vampire" batpony would give him a more solid secret identity with also the bonus of a really metal origin story.

Now we all know that the canonical origin story of batman is that a few months after the tragedy of his parents death, Bruce had fallen into a cave? a well? a pit? of bats and triggered a fear of bats since then. Later on he decides to become Batman so he can invoke the fear of bats he once had into the criminals of Gotham. Yadda yadda yadda.

Now canonically, we don't know the exact science on how Fluttershy turned into Flutterbat. What we do know is that at the time, pony magic is not researched enough for Twilight to be aware that Fluttershys "Stare" is her own form of pony magic and that it would interfere with Twilights spell.

Do you see where I'm getting at here? Uhmm don't ask me what exactly happened in the cave, I'm doing this for fun and thinking about it too hard makes me spiral. But uhmm something something- Bruce looked at a bat in the eye and decided to embrace his biggest fear to fuel his cause, and his already traumatized and fucked up pony magic had transformed his body- something something. (Edit: I didn't think about this until now but maybe Fluttershys "Stare" and Bruces "Bat Glare" could be a usage of the same form of magic? Just a thought)

I'll probably come up with a more suitable explanation in the future, but like I said. All of this is just for fun.

[nonuniverse-tarot]

Do They Know Your Feelings For Them?

*All my readings are for 18+ regardless of the nature of the reading. If you're below 18, then this reading is not for you. Thank you for understanding.*

Does the person on your mind know your feelings for them? There will be an extra question for each pile - but that question will depend on the answer!

G. H. I.

G.

They are aware of your feelings! However, it seems likes they're acting oblivious on purpose. They don't want to say anything, until you do. There is a mutual interest, but they don't want to make the first move.

Your person - I hear that they have a lot to offer, but only if they are asked/ approached first. They don't want to be 'selling' themselves. If you want them, you'll go to them.

As base, The Hanged Man is in reverse because they are dropping hints that they like you. They aren't outright rejecting your energy or avoiding you. They feel/know your feelings for them, but again they don't want to be the ones to initiate things.

Why don't they want to make the first move? So afar, the people they have tried to pursue, have ended up rejecting them, or the relationship has not gone well. They don't have the confidence to be rejected or to go up to people because of those past experiences. They feel like if they start it, it won't go anywhere.

With you, they are willing to converse and drop hints that they also feel the same way, but they won't go further than that. They're terrified of moving first. They're no leading you on and playing - I don't feel that energy from them - your person is just scared.

Songs: You Could Start A Cult - Niall Horan | Obsessed With you - The Orion Experience | Love Of My Life - Harry Styles

H.

Your person is aware of your feelings, but they are choosing not to think about them or even give you much hope. They aren't ready for a relationship and they're aware of this. They are deeply hurt and are aware that they need to work on themselves before they ever consider getting into another connection.

I ask if they had feelings for you, but all the cards that came up was their hurt and inability to start anything with anyone. They feel like they need to be 'reborn' in some way to that they can be 'fixed.

Only until they feel strong (adequate, confident, etc.) will they consider being with someone. This isn't personally about you, it about them not being able to start anything.

This person tries to be a friend to you. They listen and most likely make you laugh, but that's all you're going to get from them for now. They are working on themselves and moving alone well in their journey, but they have to do this alone. I keep hearing over and over again that they NEED to do this alone and that they can't focus on anyone else besides themselves for now.

I don't know when they'll be open and ready for a relationship - that depends on the individual. They do feeling something for you, but it's not concrete nor something they wish to think about at the moment.

Songs: Second Element - Blackmore's Knight | Freak! - Mom Cars | Break Your Heart - Taio Cruz

I.

The image that you chose represents you AND them! They are completely fucking oblivious about your feelings and are also stressing out about it!

They are interested/do have feelings for you, but their logical side says that it doesn't make sense for you to like them at all! Their intuition says you do like them, but there's no proof to sustain this 'theory'. Your person, relies too much on logic than on intuition/feelings.

There doesn't seem to be much communication between you two OR much flirting/dropping hints from either side. So now, both of you are wondering if the other is interested or not.

Your person stresses so much about your interaction, because they don't know if they're reading too much into things, or if it really is what it is! This is stressful! But also they're smiling! They don't know how to feel about this!

But yeah at the end of the day, their intuition knows, but they don't listen because 'that doesn't make any sense,' according to their brain.

Songs: Accelerate - Courtney Jenae | Satellite - Harry Styles | Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men

I hope you enjoyed the reading! The energy with this reading was so nice to do! Thank you for existing and continuing being here!

[afroditisworld]

Off to the races

dbf!Sirius Black x brat!Reader

minors dni smut

Warnings: smut without a plot :)) oral (female received), praise and degradation kink, spanking, gagging (if you squint) use of pet names (little one, brat, princess, slut, babe, sweetheart, darling) my grammar. if you are not into that please do not read. :)

word count: 5k

Summer has always been your favourite time of year, giving you a well-deserved break for about three months. This year, however, there was an extra reason for your excitement about the season. Sirius Black, your father's closest friend, was coming to visit your beach house. It had been years since you last saw Sirius due to his constant travels, so his arrival piqued your curiosity.

And once you saw him, you couldn't stop looking at him. His presence triggered feelings of eagerness and adventure in your mind. The moment you laid eyes on him, you were overcome with a passional desire. His long hair and peeking tattoos only added to his attractive mystique, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You knew that with Sirius Black's arrival came the promise of a summer filled with reckless passion and thrilling new experiences that left your heart racing and your body on fire.

So, as the days went on, you couldn't take your gaze away from him; you developed a slight crush on him. This is why you chose to make it a little more obvious. You had nothing better to do, so you thought to enjoy yourself by teasing Sirius. You began to make reasons to be around him, appearing to be interested in his trip stories and glancing at him innocently through your lashes. With a playful tone and secret glances, you enjoyed speaking to him. Each day, it was satisfying to see his reactions and feel the tension between us growing.

The teasing was a guilty pleasure for you, knowing it made him uneasy and flustered. By the end of the first week, you knew all of his weaknesses. You lived for that stunned expression on his face as you pushed the boundaries further, revelling in the danger and temptation of it all. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and as the stakes rose, you wondered if he was finally catching on to your flirt.

Sirius couldn't resist your playful teasing, and he played along with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He would flash you a charming grin every time you smirked at him, and when he caught on that you were only pretending to listen, he would ask for your opinion just to see your adorable, confused expression. He told himself it was simply to give you some extra attention, but deep down, he knew he was falling for your flirty game.

So in your little mischievous mind, his reaction encouraged you to tease him more. You started getting more physical; on the mornings in the lake, when your dad wasn't around, you would ask him to put your sunscreen on your back, pretending you couldn't reach it yourself, and the way he hesitated before helping you only fueled your desire to push his buttons even further.

"Please, Siri!" You would whine, knowing exactly how to get under his skin and make his eyes darken. He would groan in response, trying not to fall into your trap. But he would always fail. Even in the evenings, when your dad and Sirius would decide to have a drink, you and Harry would join them, giving you a chance to find yourself sitting closer to him, brushing your leg against his under the table, and asking him to make you a drink as well.

"Are you sure you're old enough for this?" Sirius would tease, a smirk playing on his lips as he poured you a glass. You would just roll your eyes and take a sip, smirking because of the small victory of getting him to cave once again.

But one of those summer nights, you and Sirus were left alone. Harry left first, saying that he was too tired to listen to his dad joke about how he used to be a troublemaker at Hogwarts. Then it was your dad's turn to leave, as he got drunk.

But you and Sirius would stay up. You could tell he was a little bit tipsy, as you were too, but the conversation flowed easily between you two.

"You know I really liked your company," he said without thinking twice, placing a hand on your thigh. You felt your face getting hotter, but it was too dark for Sirius to notice, and you were glad. It was the first time you felt like you didn't have the upper hand in the teasing dynamic between you two. Sirius's touch lingered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.

"Oh, is that a confession? I thought you only liked my dad's old stories," you gasped mockingly.

He left a small chuckle as he stood up, and before he disappeared into his room, you heard him saying, "Goodnight, little one.” When he left you alone, you could still feel his hands on your thigh, the warmth of his touch remaining like a ghost.

After that night, you thought trying to push his buttons even more would be interesting. You really wanted to see how long it would take for him to break under your teasing, and you knew exactly how to keep him on his toes.

The next day was hot and sunny, making it the perfect day to spend by the lake near your house. Your dad, Sirius, and Harry had all decided to join you for a swim. You knew this was the ideal chance to rile up Sirius even more.

As you got ready in your room, you couldn't help but feel excited about what the day might bring. You picked out your favourite bikini, one that you knew would catch Sirius's attention. As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel confident and powerful. You knew he wouldn't be able to resist you today.

When you finally joined them by the lake, Sirius's eyes immediately landed on you. You could feel his gaze burning into your skin as you walked towards them, acting as if nothing was different. But deep down, you were thrilled at how effectively your plan worked.

"Hello there," Sirius greeted with a smirk as he took in your appearance.

"Hey,” you replied breezily, ignoring the way his eyes seemed to undress you.

Throughout the day, you made sure to stick close to Sirius, brushing against him as you walked, playfully teasing him, and finding excuses to touch him. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly catching onto your flirtatious game. Despite his concern for how your father, his closest friend, would react to your playful antics, he couldn't resist playing along.

As everyone enjoyed the lake and swimming later in the afternoon, Sirius came up behind you while you were drying off after a swim. His hands grazed over your exposed back before he leaned down and whispered into your ear.

"I have to admit, little one, I do love the way you’re trying to tease me." You froze; you didn't know how to react. It was the first time he admitted that he knew what you were doing. You were usually the one who was being touchy and flirting, and once he returned your action, you were caught off guard. His unexpected confession made your heart race and left you without words. It wasn't that you didn't like it; you just didn't expect this sudden change in his behaviour.

It caught you by surprise. You were good when it came to flirting and teasing him, but when he returned the favour, you found yourself at a loss for words. You knew it wasn't right to feel your heart flutter at his touch and his words; after all, it was your dad's best friend. But you couldn't help it. What started as a distraction to avoid boredom during your summer holidays has become much more complicated and exciting.

"You know I'm not a little one, Sirius." You managed to say, as you looked at him, smirking.

"Oh, I don't think so," Sirius replied with a flirtatious tone.

Before you could even respond to his teasing, someone called your name.

"Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice. “I didn't expect to see you here," your boy-best friend from Hogwarts said as he approached you and Sirius.

"Hey! Yeah, um, we'll spend our summer here; my dad has a special guest." You grinned and pointed at Sirius.

"I didn't know you were staying here too." You continued, smiling at your friend.

"Oh yeah, my family has a summer home nearby. We thought we'd come by and spend the day here," your friend explained.

Sirius noticed how your friend looked at you like a starved man who had just found a feast. He didn't like that. He subtly moved closer to you, positioning himself protectively by your side. You noticed that, and you bit your lips, trying to hide your smirk.

"Would you like to join me for a swim, Y/N?" asked your friend when he saw Sirius's move.

You turned to look at Sirius, who was already looking down at you, wetting his lips, as you smiled and turned to face him.

"Yes, I would love that." You said leaving Sirius alone, trying once again to stop a smirk from appearing on your lips. Sirius chuckled, understanding the game that you were playing as you tried to get him all worked up and jealous. Lucky for you, it worked. As you walked towards the water with your friend, you couldn't help but steal a glance back at Sirius, who was watching you intently. The mischievous glint in his eyes told you that he wasn't going to let you get away with wanting to make him jealous.

You spent the rest of the day frantically swimming and relentlessly flirting with your friend, desperate to prove to Sirius that you were more than just a little girl. The game of jealousy raged on between the two of you, each fighting for dominance. Every now and then, you would catch Sirius's piercing gaze on you, filled with a deadly mix of amusement and possessiveness. But instead of backing down, you intensified your teasing, determined to win this battle. You were hooked on the attention from Sirius and couldn't get enough.

As the sun began to set, your friend had to leave. So you decided to head home as well. Your dad and Sirius were swimming in the lake as their laughter echoed through the air. But Harry was lying on the grass, staring up at the sky, lost in thought.

"What's you thinking?" you asked him teasingly.

"Ginny," he breathed out. You chuckled at his answer, and he immediately gave you a death stare, making you stand your hands up in surrender. Harry rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide the smile that tugged at his lips.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked you as you started packing up and getting ready to leave.

"I'm kind of tired, Harry. Tell Dad I'll go home, okay?" You said, looking at the lake and feeling Sirius's eyes on you.

"Sure thing," Harry replied with a nod.

As you walked away, you couldn't help but smile at the thought of Sirius watching you go, wondering if he would follow. The thrill of his attention lingered in your mind as you made your way back home.

Sirius didn't know if your glance was an invitation to follow him, but he did anyway. He quickly made up a lame excuse of needing to grab something he forgot at the house and followed you.

As you made your way home, you couldn't shake the memory of your interactions with Sirius. The playful banter and teasing seemed harmless at first, but now you questioned if you had crossed a line. You knew you liked flirting with him, as you were desperate for his attention, but what if he didn't?

As soon as you reached your front door, your thoughts were interrupted by the sight of Sirius following you there with that charming grin on his face. Your heart raced, and all doubts vanished in an instant.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, trying not to let the excitement show in your voice, as you entered the house.

"You think it's funny, huh?" Sirius asked you, getting closer to you. You could feel your heart racing as he closed the distance between you. You just shook your head, even though you didn't know what he was talking about, and took a step back, hitting your back on the table as he moved forward.

"You're such a brat, Y/N, begging for the attention of an older man, begging for the attention of your dad's best friend." He stated, getting closer to you. Sirius's eyes were dark and intense as he stared at you, and his lips curled into a challenging smirk. His tall and muscular frame loomed over you, making you feel both intimidated and tantalised. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he leaned in closer. His intense gaze fixed on you, causing a chill to run down your spine. The way he towered over you made you feel small and vulnerable.

You couldn't even progress with what was happening; you were just nodding.

"What's the matter, princess? Cat got your tongue?" Sirius asked.

"You had so much to say before," he said. He was so close to you that you could feel his breath hitting your lips. The familiar scent of cigarettes filled your senses, making your heart race even faster. You tried to form words, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

Sirius chuckled at your reaction and stepped even closer, his hand lightly tracing down your jawline before cupping your cheek.

"You thought it would be funny to tease me and put on a show for me, huh?" He asked sarcastically.

"Well, I must say, you've succeeded in catching my attention. But still, it was a bold move to wear your bikini, which leaves little to the imagination, and flirt with some boy, acting like the slut you are." Sirius continued squeezing your face with his hand.

"Stop it, Sirius," you mumbled, trying to push his hand away from your face. But he only tightened his grip, making you wince. Your hand fell to the table behind you, trying to keep your balance.

"Aw, is little Y/N feeling shy now? After all that flirting and teasing?" He taunted with a smug look on his face. When Sirius's hand left your face, he immediately placed it on your waist and helped you sit on the table, opening your legs and standing between them. Everything happened so fast that you were surprised at how strong he was.

Sirius leaned in closer, pressing his lips lightly against your ear. "Don't worry, princess. I won't tell anyone about your little game." His hot breath tickled your skin, sending goosebumps through your body.

"Not even my best mate," he continued, referring to your dad.

"Sirius," you managed to cry out as his lips trailed down your neck, igniting a fire within you. The forbidden thrill of being so close to your father's best friend only added to the excitement pulsing through your veins.

What was happening to you? Why were you so turned on by his words? He had barely touched you, and you could feel getting wetter and wetter with every word leaving Sirius's mouth.

Sirius pulled back slightly and looked down at you with a smirk. "Sh, babe," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

"I have to admit, I enjoy seeing this side of you," he continued, teasing you. His voice was like a drug, causing you to feel dizzy as you hung onto his every word. Sirius, let his hand fall to your bare thigh, massaging it with his thumb.

"I thought you liked my teasing Sirius; don't pretend that you didn't stare at me the whole day, or you didn't like the way I was begging to put sunscreen on me," you replied, feeling a rush of confidence. Sirius chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire once again, as he leaned in closer.

"Oh, I definitely enjoyed the show," he whispered huskily, sending shivers down your spine.

"But I prefer you when you are too frustrated to even speak," he continued, slapping your thigh. His surprising action made you squeeze your thighs around Sirius's waist, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness at his dominant behaviour.

"Kiss me, Sirius," you cried out. He was so close to you, and he still hadn't kissed you. You just wanted to feel his lips on yours. Your lips were parted, and your eyes were locked on Sirius's mouth, watching his every move with desperation and desire. His lips were seductively close, and you could almost see the anticipation in the air between you.

"Where's your manner, sweetheart?" He asked, making you raise your head with his index finger under your chin. "Ask me nicely," he whispered, tightening the grip around your thigh.

"Please, Siri…" Before you could even finish your sentence, Sirius's lips touched yours. Your body was on fire; you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body, and his hand on your thigh sent shivers through you. Every touch was like a jolt of electricity, his fingers igniting your skin.

When he pulled away, your lips were parted, pink, and swollen from the kiss. You looked at him with lust; you needed to feel him some more. But he looked away as he fixed his hair. Sirius looked like he had second thoughts, but in his eyes, you could still see the desire that mirrored your own.

"What we did is wrong," he said softly. Your legs automatically locked around his torso, trying to keep him close to you, and you shook your head.

"Wrong has never felt so right," you whispered, pulling him closer to you again.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" Sirius whispered in your ears, pushing your hair out of the way to plant a soft kiss on your neck, making your stomach clench and your core ache with arousal.

Sirius was supposed to be the one who should have a hold of himself. But at that moment, he couldn't stop thinking about all the things that he wanted to do to you. He could feel himself getting harder with just the thought of you under him, how small you would be, and what sweet sound your pretty mouth would make because of him.

When Sirius found your sweet spot at your neck and you left a soft moan, Sirius's mind immediately said 'Fuck it' as he lowered himself on his knees, now facing your heating core. Sirius's eyes were filled with desire as he slowly kissed up your thighs, stopping just before the hem of your bikini. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he looked up at you with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

"Take your bikini off for me, Y/N," he said, and with a shaky breath, you complied, feeling eager to follow his command. Sirius's gaze darkened as he watched you reveal yourself to him, and he continued kissing your thigh, leaving some lovebites as well.

"I never thought I'd be the one to bring Sirius Black to his knees." You managed to breathe out. He looked up at you and tilted his head, giving you a mocking smirk.

“Remember who’s in charge here, baby; I’d choose your next words carefully.” He replied as he tightened his grip on your hips so hard that you were sure that it was going to leave marks.

When finally Sirius left a kiss in your clit a soft gasp escaped from your lips. Sirius smirked against your core at your reaction. When his hands finally touched you where you needed them the most, your hand fell to his hair as a reflex action. Sirius spread your folds and slowly licked your dripping slit, making you arch your back in pleasure.

"You like that, don't you?" He whispered, causing you to blush. Without another word, Sirius buried his face between your thighs, flicking his tongue over your clit. You let out a loud moan at the sudden pleasurable sensation, gripping Sirius's hair as he continued to tease and lick at your sensitive hole.

Sirius was captivated by the way you tasted and the way you sounded desperate for him. He couldn't get enough of them; he ate you out like a starving man.

"You taste even better than you look." He groaned, replacing his tongue with two of his fingers. He began to thrust them in and out of you, curling them just right to hit your sweet spot. Sirius added a finger inside you, pumping rhythmically while he leaned closer to you, wanting to use his tongue to drive you wild.

"S-Siri," you whined, and you slapped your free hand to keep your voice down.

"Don't hold back; let me hear you; let me hear your pathetic moans, princess," he whispered against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Sirius quickened his pace, eager to make you lose control completely.

The combination of his fingers and tongue had you writhing in ecstasy, your moans growing louder with each movement. Sirius's skilled touch brought you to the brink of pleasure. You could feel your legs shaking and closing, but his hand kept you spread open.

"So, s-so good, fuck... Please don't st-stop, Siri," you shuttered, overstimulated by his touch.

Your body was on fire; every nerve ending was tingling with pleasure as Sirius brought you closer and closer to the edge. And he knew that he could feel your walls squeezing him.

"You want to cum, babe?" He asked teasingly. You opened your mouth, trying to respond, but all that came out was a breathless whimper, so you just nodded.

"Come on, use your words," he continued, his voice low and husky as he urged you on.

"P-Please, make me c-cum" you begged. Your voice sounded desperate and needy as your body craved release from the overwhelming pleasure Sirius was giving you.

"Atta girl, now cum to my fingers," Sirius said, getting you closer and closer to the edge, knowing he was in complete control of your pleasure.

You cried out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you shaking and panting in pleasure. As soon as your breathing slowed down, Sirius stood up and crashed his lips onto yours again in a passionate kiss, and you could swear that you could taste yourself on his lips.

"You're so beautiful when you come for me," Sirius said as his hands hugged your face, placing a soft kiss on your forehead before whispering. Before you could come up with a response, you heard your brother's and dad's voices. Your eyes widened as you quickly pushed Sirius away.

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Quick, go to the room," you said as you fixed your bikini and stood up from the table, trying to fix yourself.

When your dad first came in, he looked at you confused.

"Are you alright? You're all red," he said, concern evident in his voice. You quickly brushed it off with a laugh, hoping he wouldn't suspect anything suspicious.

"Y-Yeah I just hit my toe on the table leg," you stammered, hoping your lie was convincing enough. "I'm fine; don't worry." You continued giving him the most ridiculous excuse.

You didn't give him time to respond and run to your room. But when you opened your room door, your eyes instantly caught Sirius leaning towards your desk. Your eyes widened a little bit, looking at him with a confusing expression.

"Oh, don't look so surprised, and lock the door," he said, before pulling you closer to him by your waist. "I don't like to leave my work unfinished, especially when it involves you," Sirius smirked, making your heart race with excitement and anticipation. Sirius's lips were on yours before you could even process his words. You melted into the kiss, forgetting all about your dad and brother just minutes ago. Sirius's hands roamed over your body, making you shiver with desire. You could feel yourself getting wet again. Sirius knew what to say to make your heart stop with his words and soft touches.

"Jump," he mumbled against your lips, tightening his grip around your waist.

"What? Sirius, I-" you started saying shocked.

"Jump," he ordered again, this time bringing you closer to him, and you did as he asked, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you to your bed.

When your body touched your bed, you touched Sirius's chest with your finger, looking up at him with a pout and an innocent look. " I bet you do that to all the other younger girls," you teased, causing him to chuckle and lean in for another kiss to silence you.

He spread your legs and placed himself within them, starting to trace soft kisses on your collarbone.

"Do you ever shut up and behave?" Sirius asked, his voice sending vibrations through your whole body.

"Behave? What fun is that?" You replied, letting your head fall to your pillows when his fingers caressed your clothed pussy.

"You're so wet, baby; I can feel your arousal through your bikini." He murmured in your ear.

"Don't tease me, Siri; I need you inside, m-AH," you tried to say before Sirius turned you over your stomach.

"On your hands and knees," he ordered. His voice was calm, and even though he was whispering, his command was loud and clear.

You got on your hands and knees as Sirius instructed, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement gathering in your stomach.

Sirius trailed his hands behind your back before you heard him remove his swimming suit. He lowered himself to press his lips against your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. Your breathing quickened as he continued to kiss and mark you. You could only feel how big Sirius was, and when you tried to puss your ass against him and turned around to face him, Sirius's hand grabbed your chin firmly and made you stop your movement.

"Do you want this?" he whispered, his voice husky with desire. You immediately nodded fast and opened your mouth to beg him.

"Yes, please, Sirius; I'll be good, please." You pleaded. As you answered him, Sirus caressed his hands down your spine again and slipped his fingers under the waistband of your bikini bottom, slowly pulling them down and exposing your bare bottom to him.

You could feel his eyes on you as he ran his hands over your ass, squeezing and massaging it gently. Then, without warning, he brought one hand down hard on one cheek, making you gasp in surprise and pleasure. Sirius watched how his slap left a mark on your arse and smirked to himself.

"Sh, Y/N, don't make me gag you," he said, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder.

Sirius chuckled lowly at your reaction before bringing his hand down again, leaving a faint red mark on your skin again.

"Merlin, Sirius," you cried out as you arched your back, and he continued to spank you. You could feel yourself becoming wetter, but you weren't sure whether it was possible. No other man made you feel this good. Sirius seemed to know exactly how to make you even more horny while still putting you in your place. The combination of pain and pleasure was overwhelming in the best way possible.

"Don't be a brat and take what I give you," Sirius responded to your cries. He pushed himself closer, and you could feel his tip pressing against your thigh, teasing you with what you craved. Your body responded eagerly, aching for more of his touch. You bit your lips hard, trying not to let out a moan.

"I need you so much," you panted out between spanks. "Please, I'll be good."

Without any hesitation, Sirius slipped his cock inside of you, making you cry out in pleasure. He pumped himself in and out at a steady pace while using his hand to rub circles around your clit. You were already so sensitive from your previous orgasm that you couldn't keep yourself quiet.

Sirius pulled himself out suddenly, a mischievous grin on his face before he slapped himself inside you again with all his force. You had to bite your arm to stifle your screams of pleasure as he continued to thrust into you relentlessly.

"S-Sirius, slow d-down" you muttered, remembering he didn't cast a silence spell, therefore you could be easily heard. He instantly understood your worry and placed his free hand on your mouth.

"Yeah, suck my fingers, babe... Fuck, that's really turned you on; I can feel your walls squeezing my dick." Sirius groaned as he increased his pace, hitting a spot inside of you that made your whole body shiver with pleasure.

Sirius's hand moved from your clit to your breast, squeezing and pinching your nipples roughly. Your moan was muffled by his hand, but the sound only seemed to drive him further. Sirius's movements became more urgent, pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy with each thrust.

One of your hands found Sirius's torso, gripping onto him, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch as he continued to pleasure you.

"S-Such a good slut, like you were made for me, babe," he managed to say before he pulled you by your hair.

"I'm, mhp, I'm g-gonna, cum," you whimpered.

"Cum on my cock luv, show me how good I made you feel," he grunted as he spanked your ass once again. The mixture of pain and pleasure was too much for you to handle as another climax washed over you.

Sirius continued to fuck you through your orgasm, feeling you squeezing him. Sirius followed soon after, groaning loudly as he spilt himself inside of you. He collapsed next to you, both panting heavily, as the aftershocks of your orgasms slowly subsided.

After a few moments of catching your breath, Sirius rolled over to face you with a satisfied smirk on his face. You couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked in this post-sex haze, with his hair tousled and his chest rising and falling with each breath. His skin was slick with sweat and smooth against your fingertips as you ran them along his chest. You could feel the rise and fall of his breathing, his chest rising and falling rhythmically beneath your touch.

"You are so beautiful right now," you said, hiding your face in his neck. His chuckle echoed through his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in closer and kissing your forehead gently. Sirius's heart fluttered at your words.

"Well, you haven't seen yourself, darling," he replied, his voice low and husky. You felt a surge of warmth at his words, knowing that he saw you just as you saw him in that moment—raw, vulnerable, and utterly beautiful.

At that moment, you had forgotten everything about your age gap. You just felt content and at peace in Sirius's arms. Feeling safe next to him, you were grateful for all your teasing and flirting, which finally led to this moment.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

reblogs are always appreciated !

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

White bikini off with my red nail polish

[darlingshane]

new chapter

Joe Teague x F!Reader

Summary: On his wedding night, before he gets to spend some time alone with you, Joe listens to the conversation you're having with your daughter as you tuck her in. The little girl has some interesting questions regarding him and his new role in her life that you're happy to answer to put her at ease.

CW: +18, explicit, smut, oral sex (f. recieving), p in v sex, fluff, wedding night, pregnancy, dancing, established relationship, mention of past abuse, mention of divorce, set in the late 40s.

Word Count: 2,3k

— Links: AO3 // Joe Masterlist

Joe takes one final look around the first floor to make sure all doors and windows are locked before heading upstairs. The kitchen is a cluttered mess of dirty dishes piling in the sink from the casual reception you hosted right at the brand-new house. Dishes can wait till tomorrow. It's been a big day worthy of celebration and while it's sad to see it come to an end, he can't wait to see what this new chapter in his life with you brings him.

He's excited to see what the future holds, what these walls would tell ten or twenty years from now. This is where he's putting his roots, and he's betting everything on it that there won't be no bail this time. You are it for him. There's no doubt in his heart.

Though it’s neither his nor your first marriage, it feels just like it. The experience is completely different, given that both of you come with your own baggage; and kids in your case from your first marriage. You chose to have a simple ceremony at the courthouse, followed by a small reception at the house, and it couldn't have gone better. He can't get over how beautiful everything was. He knew you were special from the moment he met you, but the sense of pride and love he's felt today comes second to none. Not only did you look stunning in the custom dress you made yourself, but the way you've handled every little detail is something to admire.

He still has part of his uniform on when he steps into the hallway of the second floor to see you tuck Grace, your six-year-old, into bed. He leans on the door frame, listening to your voices through the cracked door.

“Mama, you look like a princess today,” she says as you pull the sheet over her body, folding it carefully at the hem as the little girl gets comfortable on her pillow. Just like Joe, you're still wearing your wedding dress with no shoes on.

“Thanks, baby. Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah, I wish you’d marry every day.”

“Every day? That’d be a lot of work with that many husbands.” She breaks into laughter along with you. “What was your favorite part?”

“The cake.”

“It was a great cake.” You agree, pushing a strand of hair off her face.

“Will you make me a dress like yours for my wedding day?”

“Sure, but first I need to know who you're marrying.”

“Hm, I don't know yet.” The little girl shrugs, holding a stuffed teddy bear in her embrace. “Someone like Joe, I guess.”

“Yeah? You like Joe?”

“He's pretty funny.”

“Pretty funny looking, I'd say.” Joe watches you glance over your shoulder, smiling at him.

“Is he my dad now? Should I call him daddy?”

“Only if you want to.” You sweetly caress her face. “Do you want Joe to be your daddy?”

She nods. “What if he doesn't want to? Is he going to be mean to us like my other daddy was?”

It breaks your heart hearing her express it like that at such a short age. As much as you tried to protect her, she was still aware of how awful her father was to you both. You thought she had forgotten about him after he died a few years ago, cause she was still a toddler. It was hard to explain to her that he didn't come back from war, but somehow your little girl understood that your lives turned for the better the moment he was gone. And surprisingly, she’s never mentioned him until now.

“Baby, I promise you, Joe is a good man. He’d never hurt us like that. We wouldn’t be here otherwise. You might see us sometimes argue, but I give you my word that no matter what, Joe loves us more than your daddy ever did. He’s going to take care of us, and we’re going to take care of him, okay? We’re family now. It doesn’t matter if you call him daddy or not, he’s gonna love you the same.”

Grace hugs her teddy bear tight as you watch her pondering for a moment in silence.

“Do you wanna ask him or do you want me to do it?”

“You do it.” She sticks out her finger and boops your nose.

“Alright, I'll do it.” You turn your head again to nod at Joe, beckoning him to come closer.

He steps into the room and bends down by the bed, propping a knee on the floor and holding his forearm on your lap.

“Hey, Gracie Jo.”

“Hi,” she says shyly, even though she's usually pretty chatty around him. But this is a big ask, you're aware, and a big step for all of you. “Mommy wants to ask you something.”

“Oh?” he gazes at you with a smile on his face, very aware of what you’re going to ask. It’s something you’ve talked about before, but you didn’t want to force Grace into accepting Joe as her father before she was ready.

“Gracie and I were wondering if you’d like to be her daddy.”

He fondly looks at you and then turns to her to assure her there's nothing he'd love more.

“It'd be an honor to be your dad, sweetheart,” he promises, placing a kiss on her forehead.

It melts your heart to see them both beaming in delight. You have no doubts that Joe would be up for the task to fill that role in her life better than anyone. You and Grace would've been fine with or without him in your life, but you're glad you got the opportunity to meet him and fall in love with him like this.

You curl up with Grace until she falls asleep and then retire to your new room.

You've got the house for a week now, but with all the arrangements for the wedding and the hassle of moving, you haven't had a minute to stop to look at it as your new home until now. There's still work to do, but you're proud of what you've accomplished to make it feel safe and comfortable for your daughter. That's all you needed. You're exhausted, but it was all worth it at the end. Hopefully, you'll be able to slow down in the next few days while everything settles.

When you step out of Grace’s room, you leave the door slightly ajar. Next to it, by the staircase there's your workspace, and a bathroom on the other side. There’s an empty bedroom in front of hers that would soon be filled with baby furniture for the little guy growing in your belly. You haven't told Grace yet, she would have babbled to everyone at the party that she was having a baby brother or sister, which is something she's been asking for years. In a couple of days, you and Joe will tell her and you know already she'll be over the moon.

At the end of the hallway is yours and Joe's bedroom. There's only a light coming from a night lamp when you go inside. There's music playing on the radio while he waits for you, sitting on the chair by the window. He still looks as handsome as this morning, when you first saw him fully dressed in his uniform. Now, his shirt is half unbuttoned, his pants are creased, and the shoes are off.

“Thought you’d be in bed by now, Mr. Teague,” you say as he stands up to meet you in the middle.

“I was waiting for you, Mrs. Teague.” He picks up your hand and brings it up to his lips to print a kiss on your knuckles. “I didn’t get a chance to dance with my bride today, I was hoping we could do it now. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

“I’d love that.” Your lips form a smile as he spins you around in the middle of the room before securing an arm around your waist.

You place your palms on his chest, smoothing the fabric of his shirt across the breadth of his chest, locking eyes with him for a moment before pillowing your head on his shoulder.

Closely tucked in his embrace, you both start moving your feet to the slow cadence of the song playing on the radio.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to dance today. I wanted to do something small, I didn’t think that you’d—” you say softly before he cuts you off.

“Sweetheart, don’t apologize. It was perfect. I wanted something small, too. I told you I didn’t care for fanfare. I like it like this, just you and me.”

You lift your head to look at him. “You’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met. How did I get so lucky?”

“All it took was a robber. I’d like to thank him personally for bringing us together,” he quips.

That’s exactly how you met. The tailoring shop you work at got robbed about a year ago, and Joe was the lead detective on the case. It was a terrifying experience, but it gave you Joe, so you have to look at it as a blessing. After a couple of follow-up interviews, he started showing up casually around the neighborhood to check in the place here and there until the robber was caught red-handed again, trying to rob a jewelry shop a couple of blocks away. By that time, Joe didn’t have any more excuses to show up, so he started bringing some of his personal pieces of clothing to fix. First a jacket, then a couple of shirts, a pair of pants… Until one day he built up the courage to ask you out for a coffee. Before you realized it, you were falling madly in love with him. It was never in your cards to marry again, but Joe was the odds that changed your luck. He wasn’t only great to you as a boyfriend, but the way he treated your daughter played a major factor on that decision.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart? Is our little buddy behaving today?” He glances down at your still seemingly inconspicuous four-month bump hidden under the loose fitting of your dress.

“Hm, he’s been an angel. I haven’t been sick all day. Just a little tired.”

“Yeah? You’re ready to go to bed?”

“No. Not yet. When the song ends.”

You lock your arms tight around his neck as he lets his forehead touch yours before letting his lips crash with yours in a firm kiss that almost makes your legs crumble down to the floor. His arms anchor you in place as the sweet undoing of his kiss sends you somewhere closer to heaven.

As the melody fades, your bodies come alive against the other. The magnetic pull of your unwavering love guides your lips to fuse together in a hot frenzy of desire. It hurts so good, you can't help but moan in his mouth. When you grow breathless, you pull back and turn around so he can unzip your dress. You quickly shed every piece of clothing and undergarment to consummate your marriage for the first time as husband and wife. It helps that you've had sex many times before, otherwise you'd be ridden with anxiety. But everything has always been so easy with Joe, and this night is no different. He makes you feel desired in ways you've never experienced before. He evokes something so powerful inside, you can't speak coherently without tripping over your words. So you suffocate him with kisses and hold him for as long as you can.

As your lungs lose the ability to breathe properly, he places you down on the mattress. Your body buzzes with anticipation when he kneels at the foot of the bed. He climbs his way between your legs that he spreads open as far as they can stretch. He kisses the inside of your thigh from you knew up to your groin, making your skin rise into pimples all over. His lips make an urgent stop at your center to bury his tongue between your folds. The eagerness to taste you causes your legs to shake like an earthquake. His tongue collects the essence of your arousal as if he was a starving man. Your core wounds up in an impossible knot made of fire that is almost unbearable to contain. You have to cover your mouth to muffle the sinful sounds that come out of your lips.

“Joe, honey,” you pant, extending your hand to grip at his hair so he would climb on top of you. “I want you inside me.”

Following your request, he slithers up your body, nestling between your legs, letting you feel his hardness against your sex. He deliciously rubs himself on your folds before guiding his cock between your soaked lips.

One of his hands holds your jaw, while his forehead leans against yours. His hips slowly push inside you, capturing the warmness of your walls that contract gently around him every time your hips slant against his moves.

“God, I love you so much, sweetheart,” his voice comes out ragged as he ups the pace of his thrusting.

“Not as much as I love you.” You use your hands to press harder on his ass, so you can feel every inch of him filling you up to the hilt.

Joe presses his mouth open against yours, seizing your breath as he takes you to the final line where your orgasm comes crashing against his own. They merge together for a second, surrounding both of you in a cloud of elation that rushes through the tangled mess of your bodies like thunder. Your legs tremble as the flutter of your opening squeezes every drop out of his seed.

— Credits: beautiful divider by @cafekitsune

[m1ckeyb3rry]

hii! so happy for you and your 500! ^_^

i really loved how you wrote isagi! could i request something like listening to music and sharing earphones with him? and while he's commenting about the music reader told him to listen, reader finds herself staring at him. and maybe isagi's friends are secretly filming them bc of how cringey (lovingly) their relationship are HSHS feel free to ignore, thank youu!!

── READ IT AND WEEP!

Synopsis: You and your boyfriend listen to some music together, while an unlikely trio of strikers watches in disgust/fascination/apathy at the scene before them.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Isagi x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Content Warnings: fluffy to a corny extent tbh but it’s okay it’s cute, chigiri and bachira are dumbasses (affectionate), nagi is an unwilling accomplice, karasu converts nagi into a subway surfers kid offscreen

A/N: anonnnn i’m so glad to hear you liked pathways isagi!! and tysm for the congrats 💖 i hope you didn’t think i ignored this, i’m sorry it took me a bit to get to! i did incorporate your suggestion at the end hehe i love a good opportunity to write shenanigans…i wasn’t sure which characters to pick but for some reason the three i chose were calling to me HAHA they just felt like they would be the ones to do smth like that!!

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

“It reminds me of you,” you explained as Isagi made a face at the bright pink album cover of the song you were trying to convince him to listen to. “Stop trying to be all macho and cool! It’s not like your friends are around to judge you for listening to basic pop music instead of your normal stuff. Come on, I know you’ll like it.”

“Okay,” he said hesitantly. “Let me read the lyrics first.”

“What kind of spoiler is that? Just listen to the song!” you said.

“I can’t understand the lyrics if I just listen to the song, and you said that it reminds you of me, so I want to know what you mean by that,” he said.

“How about you read the lyrics afterwards?” you bargained. He shook his head resolutely.

“No, because then the listening experience won’t be as strong,” he said. Sighing, you looked up the song’s lyrics and handed him your phone, holding onto his bicep and reading over his shoulder as he scrolled through the singer’s downright over-the-top articulations about how much she loved her boyfriend.

“It doesn’t sound as crazy when she’s singing it,” you muttered when Isagi’s ears turned red.

“No, no, this is sweet,” he said, pretending to cough in an attempt to disguise his laughter. “I can’t believe you think so highly of me.”

“Of course I do,” you said. “You’re my one and only boyfriend. You’re not the only one who gets to be cheesy, you know. I do as well — though only sometimes. Certainly not anywhere near as often as you are.”

“Right, being cheesy is my role,” he said, his cheek resting against your hair as you slumped into him. “Okay, since this is your way of showing affection, and since the lyrics are so charming, I guess I should probably listen to it. Give me one of your earbuds.”

“Gross, you didn’t bring your own?” you teased even as you handed one over to him. He rolled his eyes, shoving it into his ear, kissing your forehead as he did so.

“Super gross, I know,” he said. “You can play it whenever you’re ready.”

The familiar notes of the intro played, but you had played the song a million times before, so you hardly paid attention. Instead, you focused on Isagi, the way he frowned slightly as the first verse began, like he was concentrating very hard. It was endearing, that he was putting so much effort into the simple task; you knew it would’ve been much easier for him to pretend to be interested so he could get it over with, but he had never been like that. If you asked him to do something, he would put a hundred percent into it, a hundred percent or sometimes more, just so that he could make you happy.

You noticed, idly at first and then on purpose, that his body was different, his face angular in a way that it hadn’t been when he had left for Blue Lock. It was these changes you took stock of as he sat in peace, eyes shut as he listened to the music. He looked less like a boy and closer to the man he would one day become. You wondered how much he would change the next time he left, if you would even recognize him when he came back again.

In the end, though, you concluded that no matter how he had grown and how he was yet to grow, he was still at his core your Isagi. Isagi who listened to your music and gave piggyback rides to your younger siblings. Isagi who stopped in convenience stores so he could buy snacks for the stray cats and helped you pick what clothes you should wear for any given event. Isagi who loved you and who you loved in return.

“It’s really good,” he said, startling you out of your daze. “I liked it more than I thought I would! She has a really good voice, and you’re right — it does all sound much more natural when she’s singing it.”

“Is it getting added to the playlist?” you said.

“Hm,” he said. “Maybe the one I listen to at home, but I don’t know what the others would say if I was on speaker duty during one of our workouts and that started blasting. I think Barou and Raichi would probably die.”

You didn’t know that much about either of those two, but from what little Isagi had told you, that sounded in character enough, so you nodded in agreement.

“Good enough for me. It’s okay, I’m not mad! See, I have different playlists for different occasions, too, so it only makes sense that you would as well,” you said.

“I’m glad you’re not upset. I really do like it, just so you know. Send me more songs like it when you get home — I want to make a playlist of ones that remind me of you,” he said. 

“Why, so you can play it during your group workouts and make your single teammates jealous?” you said, elbowing him in the side. He chuckled.

“Nah, that would be cruel. I think I’ll bring my own pair of headphones to Blue Lock — I’ve definitely scored enough goals that they’ll let me keep them at this point — and whenever I miss you, I’ll listen to it,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, swallowing, taken aback at the casual way he always said such romantic things. “Um, well, if you have your phone, you could also just text me…”

It was his turn to be taken aback. “Oh, right. I guess I could do that too…but if you’re asleep, then I’ll listen to it! We get up pretty early, you know, and I don’t want to wake you when you should be resting.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said. “But let’s not talk about you leaving right now. For the moment, I’m glad you’re on break and can spend time with me.”

“Me, too,” he said. “I love you, Y/N. Just as much as that singer loves her boyfriend. Actually, more.”

“I love you, too,” you said. “More than that singer could ever love anyone. Way more.”

He exhaled through his nose, and then he wrapped his arm around your waist, scooting impossibly closer to you on the park bench the two of you were sharing and humming the melody of the song as you watched people walk by. 

“Nagi!” Chigiri hissed from where he, Bachira, and Nagi were hiding in a bush — or at least, they were trying to. It was somewhat difficult to hide the towering Nagi, who was also not exactly cooperating in their covert mission or participating in their attempt at masterful disguise. “Did you get it?”

“What?” Nagi said with a yawn, still holding his phone up, pointed towards where Isagi and his girlfriend — the girlfriend whose existence they had all been convinced was a myth or tall tale — were sitting together. “Get what? Why are we even here? You guys told me that we were leaving the bowling arena to get snacks.”

“Give me that!” Chigiri said, snatching the phone from Nagi, who whined in protest. Bachira hushed him, reaching up to pat him on the head, though that only made Nagi pout like a child. “What? Why is this open to Subway Surfers?”

“Oh, Karasu downloaded it on my phone while we were all in the arcade, and I’ve been playing it ever since,” Nagi explained. “It’s kind of fun. I’m trying to get the national high score.”

“You were supposed to be filming Isagi and The Girlfriend!” Bachira said, emphasizing the words ‘the girlfriend’ as if she was some kind of legendary being. “That’s why we brought you along! You’re always playing on your phone, so it wouldn’t be suspicious for you to have it out, but you were secretly supposed to be taking videos as blackmail, not actually playing on it!”

“You guys didn’t tell me that,” Nagi said. “You told me that we were all going to buy chips and fruit jellies together.”

“We literally told you,” Chigiri said, face-palming. “We said when we got here, ‘look, Nagi, that’s Isagi and his girlfriend. Take a video of them.’ Anyways, why else would we be standing in a bush so creepily if we weren’t doing reconnaissance?”

Nagi shrugged. “Dunno, maybe it’s a common hobby or something.”

Chigiri narrowed his eyes at him, unable to discern if he was being serious or not. He decided to err on the side of caution, given how genuinely strange most of his Blue Lock peers were. “It’s not.”

“Okay, you know what? It’s fine. They’re still there, so we can get some footage now!” Bachira said, taking Nagi’s phone from Chigiri and using it to take pictures of Isagi and his girlfriend as they curled up with one another on the park bench.

“Use your own phone,” Nagi said, though he didn’t try to take the device back by force — it would be a hassle, and he was pretty sure that Bachira would give it back soon.

True to form, Bachira sent the photos to a group chat he created with himself, Nagi, and Chigiri, and then he gave Nagi his phone back, earning him a quiet cheer as Nagi was finally able to return to Subway Surfers.

“These are perfect,” Chigiri said. Nagi, whose little avatar had just been caught by the policeman, scowled slightly.

“By the way, why do you guys think that these are worthy of being used as blackmail?” he said.

“Uh, because it’s embarrassing that Isagi of all people is so lovey-dovey?” Bachira said.

“Exactly,” Chigiri said.

“I think it’s more embarrassing that he has a girlfriend and no one else does,” Nagi said conversationally, without even looking up from the screen. Bachira and Chigiri exchanged horrified looks and then, in unison, whipped out their phones to delete the offending material, Chigiri also taking the liberty of doing the same on Nagi’s.

“I can’t believe we didn’t consider that angle,” Bachira said, shaking his head. “Nagi, man, you’re a lifesaver.”

Nagi grunted, obviously uninterested in Bachira’s praise. 

“This is why they call him the lazy genius,” Chigiri said in approval. “Listen, the three of us are the only ones who can confirm the existence of Isagi’s girlfriend. That means that the next time he brings her up, we have to double down on denying it. You guys in?”

“Yup, sounds like fun!” Bachira said. “Nagi?”

Nagi looked up at them. “Will you guys pay for my chips and fruit jellies like you said you would?”

Chigiri and Bachira glanced at one another before nodding, silently agreeing to split the bill. 

“Sure, we got it!” Bachira said.

“Just don’t expect anything on the same level as whatever Reo buys you. We’re not that rich!” Chigiri said. Nagi shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said. 

“Then it’s a deal!” Chigiri said.

“Deal!” Bachira said.

“Deal,” Nagi agreed, shoving his phone in his pocket as the three of them traipsed towards the closest convenience store, leaving Isagi and Y/N blissfully alone and unaware that they had ever been there in the first place.

[woodenplank-gt]

Revelations

Progress is being made!!!

First: A Not So Average Night

Previous: Witness To A Crime

Next: New Life Experiences

————-

Neither Shawn or Gus could describe how exciting it was to finally hear that tiny voice. It was like finding a room full of chocolate just for them to enjoy. Their hard work over the past hour getting the little guy to trust them has finally paid off. The three might even become friends after this.

"I'll tell you what'cha wanna know as long as you don't hurt my people." The tiny voice wavered as he spoke barely above a whisper. He had an interesting accent, although neither human could place it.

Shawn was shaking with excitement at the mention of even more tiny people running around. There must be a whole secret society! On the other hand, Gus was not as thrilled when he realized there could have been little eyes watching his every movement for who knows how long. Although a smile still played at his lips by the simple fact the little guy was getting more comfortable with them.

However, their smiles slowly faded as the words finally registered in their brains. How scared the little guy sounded. It was one of the last things the two men expected after all the progress they had made. What did they do to get that sort of response? Why is he still scared?

Shawn chuckled nervously, "What are you talking about?"

Gus' expression-filled eyes were full of concern, "Yeah, why do you think we'll hurt your people?"

Tucker dropped the chip on the desk, all but forgotten as he stared at his giant tormentors. His gaze hardened behind his tears. "You've been trying to manipulate me into telling you everything this entire time!" He snapped, the overwhelming mix of fear, anger, frustration, and sadness boiling over the edge.

He took a step forward, "And the psychic has been reading my mind 'cause I refuse to comply!" Tucker pointed an accusatory finger at Shawn, who stared at the minuscule finger with wide eyes.

The human's mouth gaped open for a moment, speechless. Shawn was prepared for a lot of things in life thanks to his overbearing dad, but getting yelled at by a man smaller than a finger was not one of them. He glanced toward his friend for any sort of advice, but Gus only gave him an equally shocked expression in return.

Shawn held up his hands, "Uh-listen, I swear I don't read minds. I'm not one of those types of psychics."

Tucker crossed his arms and quirked a brow. "Really? Then how'd ya know where I was hiding and when I was hungry and that I'm from the walls?" He challenged. His fear of being punished by humans was long gone.

"The spir-" Shawn began before getting hit in the shoulder. "Ow!" He glared at Gus as he rubbed his shoulder, "What was that for?"

"You are not giving him the whole 'psychic revelation'." Gus stated with no room to argue.

Of course, Shawn still tried to argue. "But I am a psychic. The spirits tell me everything from the beyond." He gave Gus a look, begging him to go along with him.

His friend ignored him and turned back to Tucker who tensed up again. "He's not psychic. Shawn's a fraud." Gus said blatantly.

"Gus!"

"There's no point in lying to a four-inch tall man, Shawn!" Gus crossed his arms, "Who's he gonna tell? The Chief? Lassiter? Juliet? It's just scaring him even more!"

Tucker shifted uneasily as he watched Shawn facepalm with a frustrated sigh. When the humans said nothing else, he chose to pipe up. "What do you mean?" He asked Gus.

"He pretends he's a psychic that talks to spirits to solve murders. He's just good at noticing the little things and remembering them." He answered knowingly with a shrug. Gus glanced over at Shawn leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, attempting to block out his friend exposing his well-crafted lie.

Admittedly, Tucker still didn't understand. How in the world could Shawn figure out all that information if he didn't read minds? That's impossible. But there's no reason for Gus to lie about something like this.

He licked his dry lips, "Then how did he know all that stuff? Was it just luck?" Tucker tentatively asked.

As much as Gus wanted to answer, he had no idea how Shawn did it. Even after doing this whole Psych agency thing for months, and being friends with Shawn since they were babies, his friend's uncanny skill set still surprised him sometimes.

When Shawn didn't say a word, he lightly nudged him in the side. "Shawn. He asked a question." He said quietly.

Shawn solemnly nodded. "Back at the house, I noticed grease stains from the chips on the table that looked a lot like footprints. There were multiple trails leading to the bag and I figured something was in there. I was expecting a mouse though, not you." He explained simply.

He sighed and looked to the side as he continued, "there's specks of sawdust on your clothes, only way you can get that is from inside the walls. It makes sense as a safe place for you to live. And I guessed you were hungry 'cause you were hiding in a bag of food earlier." Shawn looked up at Tucker, appearing dejected, "Happy now?"

Tucker nervously glanced down at his boots, "Y-yeah. Sorry." He murmured sheepishly. He fidgeted with his sleeve as he started to shuffle away from the humans again. All of his foolish confidence was gone, replaced by a sinking feeling in his gut that he just made things far worse for himself.

Tucker wanted to slap himself across the face and scream. How could he interpret a situation so damn badly! Mind reading? Seriously?

"Hey, don't feel too bad." Tucker glanced at the human as Shawn spoke, startled how the human seemed to read his mind again. "Everybody falls for it, I'm just too good." A confident smirk played at his lips, and he gave the small man a knowing look.

"But now that all my secrets are out, I think you owe us your name." Shawn stated lightheartedly, quirking a brow.

Tucker blinked at that. It made sense, but he still didn't want to say his name. It felt wrong telling a human that information. But he's already been caught by them, spoke to them, and told them more of his kind existed. Yeah.... He's long past following the borrower code now.

Taking a steadying breath, he met the four giant eyes of the humans. "My name’s Tucker." He cringed as his voice cracked slightly. After living on his own for three years, he wasn't used to using his voice anymore. That and the added pressure of talking to two freaking humans.

"Tucker," Shawn repeated, seemingly testing the name out, "Sounds badass."

Gus nodded beside him, "Like a gangster." He added with a smirk. "Nice to finally meet you Tucker."

The borrower only managed to nod along. He was not expecting this turn of events whatsoever. Tucker honestly thought he would be dead or left in a cage by now. He awkwardly glanced back at the chip he abandoned and decided to finally satisfy his hunger.

He sat down with the chip on his lap and continued taking bites out of the salty food. Meanwhile, Shawn and Gus shuffled closer to the desk on their knees.

"Soooo Tucker," Shawn began nonchalantly, "What exactly are you?" He couldn't hide his eagerness as the question left his mouth. His wallet depended on this answer thanks to his earlier bet with Gus, although Gus would have to pay for lunch either way since Shawn had no money. Still, he wanted to be right. He crossed his fingers under the desk, please be a leprechaun, he thought to himself.

A shiver went down his spine, but Tucker did his best to hide it. He purposely took a long time chewing his food before responding. "Don't ya wanna know about the murder?" He asked, changing the subject. Even though these humans were better than he thought, he still didn't trust them enough to reveal his people's name.

Shawn's face dropped, "Oh... right. The case."

"I forgot about that." Gus admitted quietly. He was as eager as Shawn to figure out who won the bet. "You're not a leprechaun though, right?" He couldn't help but ask.

Tucker shook his head. He didn't even know what a leprechaun is.

"Ha! I told you!" Gus pumped his fist in celebration.

Shawn scoffed, "You haven't won. We don't know if he's a wingless fairy or whatever ridiculous thing you can up with."

At that, both humans looked expectantly at Tucker again. His shoulders bunched up as his eyes danced between the two. Slowly, he shook his head side to side.

Gus shrugged, pretending not to care. "It doesn't matter, you would have made me pay for lunch either way." He pointed out.

"I actually would have paid this time." Shawn corrected him.

"Sure you would."

A loud phone chime stopped Shawn from retorting. He dug through his back pocket before taking out his phone and checking the screen. His brows rose, "It's Jules."

With one last glance towards the borrower on the desk, he tapped the green button. "City morgue, you stab'em we slab'em." He quipped.

"Not now Shawn." She said curtly. "Carlton mentioned you were at the Blum residence this morning, right?”

“Looks like Lassie has his facts straight for once.” Shawn said sounding proud. He heard a loud sigh on the other end.

“I don’t know about that.” Juliet’s voice was now quiet and unsure, very different from her usual confidence.

“What do you mean?”

There was a beat of hesitation before she continued. “Carlton seems so sure it’s the husband and is trying to get answers from him as we speak. I just- I really don’t think it’s Steven.” Juliet admitted.

Shawn exchanged a quick glance with Gus who was leaning in to listen to the call. Tucker was also paying attention, but he seemed more interested in the phone itself rather than the conversation. It took everything in Shawn not to coo at the little guy. He was just so cute with his tiny eyes peeking curiously up at him like a tiny little kitten and- Shawn took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the phone.

“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?” He teased with a growing smile.

“I just want to know what you think.”

“Well pat yourself on the back Jules ‘cause im getting signals from the beyond it’s not Steven.”

“Who is it?” She eagerly pressed. Shawn figured she was already prepped to run out the precinct and arrest the real killer in record time. He loved watching her take the bad guys down. She somehow always looked so beautiful doing it. Unfortunately, he would have to see her arrest later.

“The spirits haven’t told me yet. They’re a lot shyer today.” He said sadly. “I’ll tell you right when I find out.” Shawn promised.

“Thanks Shawn.” Juliet said quickly before hanging up the phone.

Tucker felt a sense of unease as he listened to Shawn lie about talking to spirits. The human admitted he was a fraud, yet he didn’t show any signs of a liar like every other human. Not even a quiver in his voice or his eyes twitching left. Maybe it was because he was speaking to a box instead of a person. Either way, Tucker figured it was best not to anger the human if Shawn was capable of hiding his lies.

When the human pocketed the little box again, Tucker adverted his gaze back to the chip in his lap.

"What did the killer look like?" Shawn asked. Even though there were still so many questions whirling around his head about Tucker, he knew he had a job to do. A poor innocent man was being interrogated by Lassie and Shawn wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. Well a few people did come to mind, but that was beside the point.

Tucker placed the rest of his chip to the side and brushed the salt and grease from his hands. He was about to answer, until he realized he was at the advantage for once. "I'd love to help, but my stuff is still over there." He pointed to the far end of the desk where his supplies lay.

Both humans glanced at his things, then at each other, then back at Tucker. Gus' eyes narrowed, "You're not gonna leave once you get your things back, right?"

Tucker adamantly shook his head. 

They couldn't exactly keep the items from him since they did belong to Tucker. So, Shawn reached over and scooped the tiny objects into his palm. "Promise not to stab me again?" He asked warily before handing the items, most notably the nail, over.

Tucker stood and took a few steps back as the giant hand neared. He smirked up at Shawn, "As long as ya don't manhandle me again." There was still a hint of nervousness in his voice as the hand stopped right in front of him.

"Touché," Shawn replied as he slowly tilted his hand so the tiny objects could slide off.

The borrower immediately began inspecting his possessions. The fish line on his hook was tangled but that was an easy fix. Tucker grimaced as he noticed his silver nail still had some blood on the tip that has long since dried. He'll have to figure out how to make it shine again later. He dragged his leather satchel over to himself and undid the clip. The contents inside were strewn about but undamaged.

"I couldn't really see the killer's face inside the bag," Tucker began as he started to reorganize his satchel, "But his voice was too deep to be the resident male's- uh Steven's." He corrected.

Shadows covered him as the humans leaned in closer to hear his small voice. Tucker kept his eyes down as he distractedly untangled his climbing rope. "Kirstin was really surprised and scared. But I think she recognized him."

"Really? How so?" Gus asked.

"She called him 'J.'" He started to reveal. Suddenly, his hands stopped untangling the string. Flashes of the woman's giant, bloody face appeared in his mind. Her pained features and the desperation in her watery eyes as crimson blood pooled around her head. The way she stared at Tucker when she realized her final moments were approaching.

A lump formed in his throat. Tucker knew all too well what that fear and helplessness felt like. How suffocating it is. Like your drowning and the only way to go is deeper into the dark depths as weights dragged you down. And only the actions of others will decide your fate. Tucker got lucky, but the same couldn't be said for Kirstin.

"Earth to Tucker." A voice rumbled above.

He snapped out of his haunting memory of the murder only hours before. Tucker glanced up just in time to see a pale hand approaching him with a borrower-sized finger outstretched. Surprised, he fell onto his rear and scrambled back. "Stop, stop!" He frantically demanded, holding out his weapon.

The hand flinched away and quickly disappeared back under the desk. "Relax, I'm not some giant monster. I was just gonna poke you." Shawn said.

With a huff, Tucker rose back onto his trembling legs and glared at the human. "Ya touch me, ya get stabbed. Got it?" He stated, holding up the still bloody nail.

"No touching, I get it." Shawn swore. "Were you having a vision? Are you a mini psychic!" His face lit up at the mere thought of having a tiny spirit whisperer as a sidekick.

Gus rolled his eyes beside him.

Tucker slung his satchel over his shoulder and put his nail through the small hoop on the bag. Slightly embarrassed, he began coiling up his climbing rope. "No, sorry. I just-," he chuckled dryly, "Guess that human's death got to me more than I thought."

He glanced down at the desk under him as he thought it over. Death has never bothered him before today. It wasn’t uncommon to hear a borrower dying from illness or a rat or getting crushed. Out of eleven kids, Tucker and two other siblings were the only ones who lived to be adults.

Sure it was sad, but they would simply hold a funeral and move on. So why was this death, a human’s death, bothering him so much?

"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Tucker." Gus reassured him, unknowingly knocking him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, Gus still gets queasy around bodies and we've been working on murder cases for months."

"That's a normal reaction, Shawn. Not everyone is a psychopath like you."

Shawn laughed, completely unbothered. "I see what you did there! Psych-opath." He lightly patted his friend's shoulder.

Annoyed, Gus quickly shrugged him off. With one last glare directed at Shawn, he turned his attention back to Tucker. "Ignore him. You said Kirstin called the killer 'J,' correct?" 

Tucker frowned as he remembered the victim's last word, meant just for him to hear in her final moments. "Yeah, then she said 'Josh' right before she died." His eyes danced between the humans. "Ya think that's the killer's name?"

Both men smiled. "Definitely sounds that way." Gus confirmed.

Tucker perked up at that. "I did what'cha asked. This mean I can go home now?"

"Of course!" Shawn assured him with an easy smile. "Hop on the Shawn Express and let's get rolling." He lowered his hand until it rested palm up in front of the borrower.

Tucker back up even further, not taking his eyes off the hand. His heartbeat quickened as the phantom feeling of those same fingers curling around him came back. It took everything in him not to pull out his weapon.

When it was clear Tucker was not hopping on his hand, Shawn curled his fingers to motion for the little guy to come closer. “The Blum house isn’t walking distance from here, especially for someone as vertically challenged as you.” He pointed out.

Tucker scowled up at him, “I-I know!” He stubbornly responded. He cautiously took a few steps closer before freezing up again. He just couldn’t do it. Willingly putting himself in a human’s hand went against every single survival instinct.

Gus frowned at his nervousness. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but Shawn can be careful when he needs to. You can trust him.” He promised.

He glanced up at Gus who gave him a reassuring nod, clearly telling the truth. Tucker took a few more moments to steel his nerves before closing the distance between him and the giant hand. He immediately climbed on the leathery skin before he could second guess himself, settling in the center of the palm. Tucker closed his eyes and tried to ignore the heat rising from the skin and the thumping of a pulse.

“Here we go,” Shawn warned quietly. He slowly rose his hand up to his chest and immediately placed his other hand underneath to add more protection for Tucker. “It’s just like when I carried that little spider when we were kids.” Shawn said with a smile, trying to hide how nervous he was carrying an entire human being.

Gus’ eyes were locked onto Tucker, ready to catch him again if something went wrong. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Never in a million years did he think he would watch his best friend hold a tiny little person in the palm of his hand.

His eyes never strayed from the small man, even at Shawn’s comment that brought back terrifying memories. “You mean that big spider you chased me around the house with for ten minutes straight?” His tone was full of annoyance.

“It was harmless.” Shawn responded as he began carefully walking towards the door. Tucker’s eyes were still shut tight, and Shawn thought he could even feel the minuscule fingers digging into his skin.

Gus sped past Shawn and to the door that led to the outside. “I’m pretty sure that was a brown recluse. You coulda killed me.” He cracked the door open and scanned the outdoors for anyone that could spot Tucker. Thankfully, no one seemed to be up in the very early hours of the morning and he quickly beelined to his blue car.

Shawn was close behind. His hands were protectively cupped to his chest as he too scanned his surroundings for people. “That definitely wasn’t a brown recluse, you’re making things up.” He defended himself.

Gus opened the passenger side door for him and he climbed inside. Gus quickly sat in the drivers seat and turned the key in the ignition.

Tucker flinched at the sound of the engine rumbling to life. He squirmed in the stuffy confines of the hands cupped over him, pushing against the fabric of the chest in front of him. After what felt like forever, the hands shifted around him and he found himself on his back looking up at two green eyes.

He quickly sat up and fixed his black poncho. “Are ya gonna put me down?” He asked nervously, glancing around the inside of the car.

Gus was the one who answered, “Absolutely not.” He turned in his seat and began backing out of the parking spot, making Tucker brace himself at the sudden movement. “There’s no safe places for you to sit in here and the last thing I want on my conscience is you getting hurt while I’m driving.” He stated without any room to argue.

Tucker nearly forgot how to breathe. How was he supposed to sit with a damn human the whole time!

Psychic or not, Shawn seemed to read his mind. “Relax, we’ll be back at your place before you know it.” He said with an easy smile.

Tucker forced himself to nod in response, hating every second of this morning. He couldn’t wait to get back in the walls and away from the humans.