#he's held to a completely different standard when it comes to swearing

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

RB best be happy all Yuki said was that it was ridiculous because if I was in his position... It would be something akin to this:

[badgerbl00d]

what are we?

☆ characters: trafalgar law

☆ part ii: what are we? ft. zoro

☆ summary: you drunkenly hook up with your captain one night. it happens again, and then again. but can you both truly continue with no strings attached?

☆ a/n: part one of a series focused on being in a situationship with different one piece boys! requests are open so feel free to suggest ideas! currently working on some yummy zoro stuff... >:3

3.8k words

law’s standards are straightforward

he has to know what goes where, when things happen, and how to deal with them

he’s a surgeon, after all.. procedure is his main priority, order is necessary

so when the two of you are alone and buzzed, and law acts on impulse… his entire world is turned upside down

You two were the only people awake on board. 

A combined total of 4 beers and 3 drinks of whiskey between the two of you was creating a palpable tension in the room. 

You and Law were playing a card game, laughing and giggling as you made up rules along the way. 

You sat next to each other, and your chairs had gotten progressively closer with each empty beer bottle. 

Your knees were touching now, and you looked up at Law, admiring the rare smile that sat on his face.

“This your card?” he asked, flipping it over to show you a four of clubs. 

“Mmm.. I don’t remember. Probably not,” you giggled. 

Law laughed with you, and placed it back in the deck. 

“Let’s try again,” he said, shuffling through the cards, “Alright, I learned this one when I was a kid. Choose a card without showing it to me, then put it back in the deck.”

He held the cards out to you. 

You followed instructions and placed the queen of spades back into the deck. 

“Ok, now you shuffle ‘em.”

You scoffed, “No way, Law, that isn’t possible.”

He giggled, “It is! I swear.” He held his hand up. 

You took the cards from him and shuffled, handing them back to him when you finished. 

He flipped through the cards, and stopped near the end, pulling one out.

“This! This is your card!”

He turned the card to show you a jack of clubs.

You laughed out loud, holding your stomach.

Your eyes were closed and the sound of your laughter was like music. 

Law’s gentle smile grew even larger, and he placed the cards on the table. Tucking the queen of spades, your actual card, into his back pocket.

Maybe he was drunk, or stupid. Or both.

But he grabbed your hand and pulled you forward, crashing his lips against yours.

He kissed you with a completely unexpected passion, it was full of fire and want. 

Like he’d been waiting for years to do it. 

His mind suddenly cleared and he quickly pulled away. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His mind was racing. His heart was pounding inside his chest. 

That was a terrible idea.

Your eyes were wide when he pulled away. But you leant forward and brought your lips to his, placing sloppy kisses against them. 

“Y/n, wait- wait,” Law breathed, gently placing a hand on your chest to push you away. 

You pulled back, a concerned look on your face, “Sorry, sorry. We probably shouldn’t.”

Your cheeks were pink and your lips plush. 

You sat back onto your chair, neither of you making eye contact. 

Law nodded, agreeing. 

“Probably not.”

It was quiet again. The room felt stuffy and packed with tension. 

You got up, still wobbly on your feet. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Captain.”

Law suddenly reached out to grab your wrist, you stopped mid-step.

You turned to look at him, and he stood up, unsure of what was going to come out of his mouth.

“Maybe,” he started, hesitantly, trying his best to think this through before it took a turn for the worse, “Maybe just for tonight.”

You pulled him toward you and the two of you kissed like it was the most important thing in the world. 

Stumbling over and onto each other you made it to your room reaching for the door in between kisses and touches. 

There was no break in your contact.

Even when entering the room Law kept his hand firmly around yours. 

He pressed hot kisses against your neck as he pushed you up against your bedroom door. 

His hands wandered up and down your body, indulging in every curve and soft spot on your body. You moaned into the kiss, pressing your chest against him, running a hand up through his hair. 

His breath caught in his throat at the sensation, your minds blurred by the taste of beer and whiskey on the other’s lips.

He reached behind you and locked the door.

You pulled away from the kiss for air, and as though time had completely frozen over, you both stopped and smiled at each other. 

your late night ‘hang outs’ became more frequent

this scared you to no end- you knew your captain

you’d go to bed with him and wake up alone the next day

when you were around each other it was awkward and law refused to acknowledge anything about the night before, was he embarrassed? ashamed?

you didn’t know how much longer you’d be able to take this push and pull from him

what was he to you? your captain and friend? or your lover? and what did you want to be for him?

Law woke up about two hours after he’d fallen asleep, your warm body cuddled into his chest, your ass fit snugly against his pelvis. 

He stayed still for a moment, mindlessly indulging in how your breathing was syncopated. You inhaled as he exhaled, and breathed out and he breathed in. It created a comforting rhythm that nearly lulled him back to sleep. 

Instead, he blinked his eyes open and gently moved his arm out from under you, careful to not wake you up. 

His chest ached but he knew it was best. 

These hookups were mistakes and if they continued the consequences would be unrelenting, the only thing worse than doing this again would be to wake up by your side in the morning. 

So he slipped on his shirt and made his way to the kitchen to grab you a few things before he started his day ready to make a half-assed attempt to forget the night before. 

He knew, from previous experience, that it would be impossible.

He grabbed a glass and filled it with water, leaning against the counter, still groggy with sleep.

What is this supposed to lead to? 

He concentrated on trying to visualize a future for the two of you but drew blanks. His mind was busy with getting across the Grand Line while keeping everyone alive- he had more important things to worry about that his crewmate he slept with when you both got too drunk. 

I guess we should put a permanent stop to it. I think it’s called a boundary.

He groaned internally at the thought of stopping. He was failing to control his thoughts. 

I don’t want to. 

I like her but it’s too messy- Everything could go wrong.

It’s my job as captain to stay professional.

Ugh, I miss her already. 

Last night was the last time. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts when a steady trickle of water that poured out of the overflowing sink dripped onto his socks. 

He turned off the water and drained the sink, making his way back to your room. 

He looked down at his hands before gently pushing the door open. 

Advil and water? What the hell am I- Her boyfriend?

He told himself it was because he was the doctor of the ship. This was his job and you’d dranken far too much. He didn’t want you to wake up with a headache- that’s the last thing anyone on watch needs.

But as he set down the glass of water and painkillers, and snuck a look at your sleeping face, he was reminded that he’d gone back to see you again. 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

You slowly blinked your eyes open to shut off your alarm clock. 

4:00 A.M.

You rolled over, suddenly very awake when you felt the emptiness of the bed next to you.

You sat up and turned on the lamp that sat at your bedside, the covers were drawn back and you realized you’d woken up alone. Again.

A glass of cold water sat on your night stand, with two advil next to it on a yellow post it note.

Doctor’s orders, it read. 

You ignored both the water and the pills and made your way to the shower, ready to wash yourself of last night and get ready for the day. 

you both should’ve considered the emotional consequences but you’d jumped into it headfirst and here you were now

friends, occasional lovers, and crewmates

you knew better than to hope for affection or romance but every time you woke up alone you were left with a bitter aftertaste for the night before

law can feel himself falling for you more and more and he thinks it’s the worst thing in the world

he promises himself that every time will be the last, but all it takes is one look at you for his resolve to completely crumble

so he does the only thing he can- distance himself

You somehow knew before he even said anything. 

He wasn’t good at handling socially uncomfortable situations and with the way he shuffled into your room and refused to make any kind of eye contact with you, you figured you were in for one. 

“You okay?”

He held up a hand to stop you talking. 

You were admittedly taken aback- was he really… shushing you?

“Just- Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Law said.

Great way to start, you thought, but you held your tongue and let him continue.

“We need to stop seeing each other. It’s a terrible idea to continue.”

You concealed your hurt by matching his tone, “Kinda hard to do considering we live together.”

“You know what I mean. The hooking up, the late nights, sleeping together- everything. It has to stop.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, feeling embarrassment start to heat your face up. 

That kind of raw pain that comes before crying started to spread throughout your throat. 

If this wasn’t heartbreak you didn’t know what was. 

You could feel a surge of heavy-hearted emotions building up in your chest, sadness, anger, frustration. 

But worst of all- understanding. 

You knew this was bound to happen sooner than later, and it would take a while to say out loud but this probably was for the best. 

“Okay,” you said, finally breaking the silence

Law looked up at you for the first time since he entered your room. 

He looked confused, and pissed.

“Okay? What, that’s it?”

Anger started to take over, you could cry later.

“Fuck off, Law. What do you want me to do? Beg that you stay?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Please!” you mocked, “Please don’t leave me! I’m so in love with someone I mistakenly slept with a few times! Is that what you want to hear?”

Yes, he thought to himself. Please, ask me to stay.

He stood up and brushed past you. 

He lingered by the door.

It has to stop because I’m falling in love with you. I would do anything for you. It scares me. I can’t lose you. Ask me to stay. Please. 

“I regret it,” you whispered, as he finally walked out.

“Glad that we finally agree on something.”

He slammed your door shut behind him. 

The next few weeks were agonizing, for everyone, really

It was obvious something had happened between the two of you and the tension aboard the submarine was suffocating

You sat in the lounge area with Shachi and Bepo, helping them build a lego set they’d been saving up for and finally managed to get their hands on at your last stop. 

“Ok, I’ll do the red part over here,” Shachi said, gathering the little plastic bricks into his hands. 

“Y/n, you do these outer parts since they go down first,” Bepo said, pushing a pile of bricks toward you, pointing to the reference image with his paw. 

“Ok!”

The three of you built in silence for a while, listening to the playlist playing from Penguin’s speaker you’d ask to borrow while you built. 

Bepo was surprisingly good at it, but struggled to click the pieces off of each other because of his paws. Luckily, you had recently manicured nails and they proved to be perfect to unstick the peskier blocks. 

“Why do girls get their nails done all the time?” Bepo asked, “Won’t they get ruined?”

“It’s a woman thing, buddy,” Shachi said, “What I don’t get is how much it costs!”

You laughed, and held your nails out for them to look at.

They agreed that they liked the glitter, and asked if you would do blue next. 

You agreed.

The three of you got an impressive amount of the lego building done within the hour and were happily chatting until Law walked in.

Your back was to the door but based on the way your two companions tensed up, you knew who’d walked in. 

He was quiet and didn’t say anything. He just went to sit in the corner, and quietly flip through a book.

You felt how the attention in the room shifted toward you.

How were you going to react?

You sighed and continued to build your part of the legos.

You knew this was Law’s silent way of asking for peace, and decided it was best to accept.

After a few minutes the tension had dissipated and Law suddenly felt a very deep sadness pour into his body.

You’d accepted. 

You’d accepted that the two of you were over. 

He left after another few minutes, part of him hoping you might be angry with him again.

Law doesn’t know how to process jealousy, especially if it’s romantic or sexual

When he’s around you he feels it often

He knows he’s overreacting and curses himself for it, but he can’t help it when you’re just so pretty!

The few emotions he can process are limited to strictly professional relationships, so when he’s confronted with his own feelings toward you there’s no question that he’s left just as, if not more, confused than he was before

Like when the crew ran into an old friend of yours a few weeks after your argument…

“Ace!”

You called out to the pirate proudly boasting a Whitebeard tattoo on his strong back, tossing the bags of supplies you were holding to Shachi, who just barely managed to catch them.

The boy turned around, and a beaming smile spread across his face as he ran toward you.

“Y/n!”

He picked you up and spun you around a few times, his arms wrapping around your waist, pressing your chest into his. 

Law had stopped in his tracks and was watching silently from where he stood. 

When Ace finally stood still you were dizzy and your hair fell messily around your face.

He looked up at you, still smiling, “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Would you believe I’m a pirate now?”

He laughed, “You’ve always had the reflexes for it. And the morals.”

Penguin whistled at the two of you, “Ok, lovebirds.. We’ve still got a ship to load.”

Ace gently placed you down, “Let me help.”

Penguin and Shachi exchanged glances, not daring to say anything until Law did. 

“Sure,” Law said, barely loud enough to hear. 

Immediately the two were upon him, forming a noisy chorus of questions,

“Is Whitebeard as terrifying in real life?”

“What’s the coolest thing he’s ever done that you’ve seen first hand?”

“Are Marco’s flames really blue or did someone make that up?”

“How did you meet Whitebeard?”

“Do you think he’s the strongest?”

“How much does Whitebeard drink in a d-”

Law cleared his throat, interrupting the barrage of questions that had already started to fluster poor Ace. You finished loading the Polar Tang within the hour, and finally took a break to enjoy the drinks Bepo had set out for when you finished. 

You and Ace sat next to one another, talking and laughing. 

The others were buzzing with excitement at Fire Fist Ace, debating amongst themselves how to nonchalantly ask for an autograph. 

“So how do you two know each other?” Law asked, hoping he was coming across inconspicuously. 

(He wasn’t)

The rest of the crew quieted down to listen. 

Law felt his chest tighten and a nauseous feeling climb up his throat when Ace told the crew that, 

“Y/n and I used to be intimately acquainted,” 

and jokingly wriggled his eyebrows at you.

He tried to ignore how the feeling worsened when you blushed as you rolled your eyes at the pirate and hastily told the crew he was over exaggerating the nature of your relationship.

Law knew better than anyone that he had no right to feel any kind of possession toward you, yet the biting jealousy he felt as he watched you laugh and talk with the freckled boy was unrelenting.

“We met when she stole a very important relic from my that Pops had asked me to bring him,” Ace continued, “And she would’ve gotten away with it had she not-”

“Had you not decided to issue a reward for it.”

You stealing? 

Law’s brain scrambled to try and picture you doing any such thing but he was drawing blanks. 

“Well, long story short I exchanged the cash for the item, yada, yada, and everything was good.”

“And then a month later, I pickpocket the same freckled kid and he’s just as clueless about it. I feel kinda bad and in the hopes of getting another generous cash offering, I try to help him out.”

Ace smiled at you as you told the story, adding in, “Is it wrong to say I still feel flattered that you had a change in heart and decided to tell me you stole?”

You rolled your eyes again, and Law felt his heart sink even further as you failed to hold back a smile. 

“Anyway,” Ace finished, “She decided to help me become less susceptible to sticky fingered pickpockets and we became…. friends!”

He put an emphasis on the word that made Law’s stomach ache. 

Ace answered questions and signed posters, entertaining himself with the rest of your crew as you sat back and finished your beer. 

For the first time that day, you made eye contact with Law.

You seemed almost apologetic, and offered him a half-assed smile. 

He looked away and stood up, making his way toward his room. 

following this unexpected, and unwelcome, fit of jealousy, law reconsidered several things regarding your relationship (and probably cried himself to sleep)

he understood how dangerous it was to try and pursue something not just for the both of you, but for the crew

it wouldn’t be fair to create a situation that could possibly cause a huge rift within the crew, if something ever happened or you ever broke up

but was it a risk he was willing to take?

instead of taking time to think about it, law found himself headed toward you

A dim yellow light poured out from below the door to your room, gently illuminating the hallway floor in front of it. 

Two feet planted themselves in front of the door and nervously shuffled from side to side.

With a hand in the pocket of his sweats, Law reached up and gently opened the door. 

He figured the two of you were past knocking. 

You were sitting in bed, braiding your hair. 

“Mind if I come in?” he asked. 

“Of course, not,” you answered, patting the bed next to you. 

He sat down, stretching as he did so. 

His form fitting shirt lifted slightly at the hem, revealing the ink that covered his lower abs and upper pelvic area. 

A flurry of butterflies danced in your stomach. 

He settled himself onto your bed, a familiar and welcoming place of rest for him. 

You finished braiding your hair and turned to face him.

“Something you wanted to tell me?”

He lazily smiled at you. 

“Know me that well, huh?”

“Sort of.”

He sighed and sat up straighter, tugging at the collar of his shirt before he spoke. 

“I know I’ve been a complete ass, and I don’t expect this to make it right,” he started, the dull throbbing in his chest growing by the second, “But I care for you in a way that- that I don’t for anyone else.”

You wrapped your pinky around his, and looked down at where your hands touched on the bed between the two of you. 

Silence filled the room. 

“Every second I spend not knowing where you are or what you’re doing is completely agonizing. I think about you all the time and if I’m not doing that then I’m praying to god that you’re thinking about me.”

Heavy tears gathered on your waterline and you blinked up to look at him, shaking your head. 

“We both know how this ends, Law,” you said, “Tomorrow you’ll tell me you weren’t thinking straight. That you were out of line and we need to stay professional. And I agree.”

Law wrapped his fingers into yours, squeezing your palms together. 

“Maybe,” he said, “But this is how I feel right now. How I’ve felt for weeks. I can’t- I can’t sleep another night without you by my side.”

A tear fell down your cheek, and you let him drag a gentle thumb across your face to wipe it. 

“I love you,” you murmured. 

He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks. 

“I love you too.”

Tomorrow was uncertain. 

If he didn’t wake up with his brain foggy with guilt and regret, then you would. 

But there was a chance you both held on to with all the strength you could manage. 

There was the possibility that you’d look past professionalism and worn out excuses. That you’d be able to hang up your pride and dive headfirst into uncharted waters.

Maybe if you could just focus on the feeling of your captain’s hands around your waist, the feeling of his chest breathing in and out against your back, the smell of him filling all your senses as you fell asleep in each others arms, limbs tangles and bodies pressed together- then just maybe it would work out this time. 

Sleep pulled down your eyelids and slowed your thoughts. 

You’d have to find out in the morning. 

#emotionally stunted ass man

[rubyredridinghood]

JJK Characters and Their Piercings/Tattoos

SFW✅ CONTENT!! 18+ blogs please dni ^^ TW: Mentions of needles, some spoilers, not proofread lol

SATORU GOJO

•Standard ear piercing but usually nothing extravagant

•Unironically has the cross dangly because he thought it would be funny but never wears it

•Mostly diamond studs or silver

•100% GOT A NOSE STUD IN HIGH SCHOOL

•He thought it would attract more attention from the ladies (as if he needed anymore) and of course it worked

•Also has his belly button pierced and I stand firm on that belief

•Likes to flaunt it on the beach and often keeps his shirts unbuttoned in unprofessional gatherings

•Often matches the nose stud and belly button ring and has drawers full of them

• Has a tattoo on his hip of a black beta fish (yeah🥲)

•Speaking of which, he has a small one on the back of his neck of a crescent moon

•He got matching ones with Geto right before *the incident* in high school to celebrate Suguru’s 18th, Geto has the sun

•Covers it with foundation all the time when he’s in public

•Has a tattoo on his upper arm of a doodle Megumi drew when he was little

•It was the first thing Megumi ever drew and showed him (It was literally just him and Tsumiki as stick figures) and he cried

•Has a pretty high pain tolerance so he mostly did well with the process, but the hip tattoo hurt like hell for him and they basically had to pin him to the table to keep him still

•Made Shoko come to his appointments for moral support

CHOSO

•Standard ear piercings

•Usually just sticks to silver or black studs because he’s afraid of being judged :< •With a little push he might wear small hoops occasionally

• Vertical labret piercing (middle of lip) only wears hoops

•Does not do well with needles (shockingly), so he cried the first time he got body mods done

•Got his ears pierced at Claire’s and held the teddy bear

•Has only one tattoo along his left forearm with the names of his brothers written out in kanji (including Yuji)

•Also cried during the tattooing process

•He’s just a pretty princess he can’t help it😞

•Has a rotation of like 5 different pairs of earrings and lip rings because he likes to keep things simple

•Really wants to get an eyebrow piercing but chickens out every time

SUGURU GETO

•Gauges (duh)

•Started stretching his ears in early high school after he got tired of normal earrings

•Used to sit in agony in class whenever it was time to move up the taper size

•Got his septum pierced but decided he didn’t like it a few months later

•After high school (betraying everyone lol), he started by getting industrials

•Tongue piercing came next, has all kinds of fun tongue rings for funsies

•Tongue was super puffy after getting it done, Mimiko and Nanako had to speak for him for a couple weeks while he expressed his throughs through grunts of frustration

•Has the universally headcannoned back tattoo of a dragon

•Has the sun tattoo on his nape to match Gojo’s moon

•Covers it with his hair obvi but sometimes looks at it in the mirror when he’s feeling lonely

•Left arm is a complete sleeve filled with various details such as red spider lilies, various geometric patterns, and names of his loved ones hidden throughout

•Simplistic patterns running up his fingers on both hands

•Did not budge during any of the procedures, however the intensity of many of his healing processes usually rendered him unable to do certain things, so he often required assistance afterwards, even while swearing up and down he didn’t (he almost fell down the stairs)

TOJI FUSHIGURO

•Definitely has the standard earlobe

•Used to have a nose stud but stopped wearing it

•Again nothing flashy but his wife and Tsumiki bought him hello kitty earrings and he will wear them proudly

•Has a simple tattoo down his neck of his wedding date in Roman numerals to Megumi’s momma (or you😘)

•Got it there because he tends to rub his neck when he’s stressed, so running his hands over the ink reminds him of his life’s blessings

•Also has Megumi’s and Tsumiki’s names behind both of his ears (screw canon can’t change my mind fr)

•Has one (1) on the knuckle of his wedding ring finger of a heart his wife drew

•Hides it under the ring because it embarrasses him to show other people but loves to look at it when he’s alone

•Pretends to be completely fine during his procedures but is gripping his wife’s hand for dear life and biting his lip until it bleeds

•She def laughs at him for it

•Hates needles with a passion and always dreads getting new ink done but it’s always worth it in the end

RYOMEN SUKUNA

•Canon tattoos lol

•Also canon that he has his ears pieced, but he definitely got everything possible done on both ears

•Has a ton of different earrings and chains that make his appearance more regal and scary

•Has his tongue split 100% •Had a super puffy face after that procedure, and Uraume had to had to hold back laughter while assisting him through his normal daily affairs

•Nobody could take him seriously for weeks

•But when it healed he was scary as all hell

•Bridge piercing 1000%

•Didn’t really react to his procedures, however if you look closely you might see him barely squint his eyes when the needle goes through

•Got permanent bracelets because he thought they looked cool

•Small gauges

•Doesn’t let anyone touch his tattoos or piercings unless he’s being bathed or with someone he loves (you pookie🥰)

•Partly because it’s lowk sensitive for him and he doesn’t like the feeling

•Forgets to take out his earrings when he sleeps and wakes up with weird marks all over the sides of his head

•Constantly losing earring backs

•Also drops earrings all the time because his hands are huge and steps on them with the needle side up

•Poor Sukuna

My first time posting detailed hcs! Hope you like it ^^

[masterwords]

for us there is no end

Summary: From an awkward dinner date that doesn't go as planned to fireworks to ring in the new year, come along with Hotch and Morgan as they try to figure out how to do something about the feelings they have.

Warnings: minor injuries (stitches), canon-typical violence (unsub mentions), swearing, food

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 6k

Notes: Another year, another holiday exchange, another attempt at outdoing Hallmark with a sappy romantic comedy. This is for @crazinessprevailed in the @cmgiftexchange. I agonized over plot for ages, came up with about 7 different stories, and then when none of them quite panned out the way I hoped...I smashed them together into this odd, slightly chaotic, very out of control trainwreck. HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

...................................................................................................................

“Come out with me tonight,” Derek said quickly, before he lost his nerve. He'd been hoping it would just come up naturally somehow, like they'd just be talking about weekend plans or something and he'd see an opening. The problem was, they didn't really talk like that at work, and he had to get a little creative. And then when that didn't work, because Hotch wasn't exactly prone to conversation when he was trying to review case files before preparing his reports, he had to just blurt it out right there in his office.

And to his credit, Hotch didn't look terribly shocked over it. There was maybe a hint of something in his eyes, some kind of disbelief at what he was hearing, but it passed quickly. He had too many other things going on to add one more to the pile.

“Did you have something in mind?” Hotch fired back, barely looking up from his paperwork. The way he said it so easily knocked Derek completely off of his game. He was just not prepared for this conversation, which was silly if he really considered it. There shouldn't have been an easier conversation in the world. The two of them had years behind them, and though it didn't look conventional by anyone's standards Derek would wager that their friendship (if that was actually what you would call it) was stronger than just about anything out there.

“No, not really...” He'd never been so nervous asking someone out, and he wasn't even sure this qualified as asking someone out yet it had been so bad. At this point he was just trying to make it out of the office without dying. He would definitely not qualify this as a date, not at this point. He blew it. “Dinner, for starters. It's late and I know neither of us has eaten anything. I bet you haven't eaten all day.”

“Yes, dinner sounds nice. I've got a call with Strauss in ten minutes, I'll be leaving after. Would you like me to meet you somewhere?” He paused, finally glancing up at Derek, frowning at the strange nervous way he held himself. “Is anyone else coming?”

“Just us,” Derek answered quickly. “Everyone else had plans tonight.” That was a lie. He hadn't asked anyone else. Hotch didn't need to know that, though.

“Not surprising, it being so close to Christmas.”

(x)

The call with Strauss was, for lack of any other way to describe it, a complete disaster. He'd only been back in his position for two weeks.

Not even a month had passed since Haley's death, and he was back in the hot seat. That wasn't the disastrous part, though. He'd expected that, even looked forward to it...some semblance of normalcy when the rest of his life was spinning so entirely out of control. He didn't know how to be a full-time dad, hell he barely knew how to be a part-time dad. But he was managing with Jessica's help.

No, the disastrous part was that he was expected to attend a Christmas party of the Director's at a country club in Maryland. He'd been hoping they'd grant him some leniency, understand that he was still too raw to be put on that kind of display, maybe even have some compassion and let him be home with his son...but no such luck. He would show up in his tuxedo and they would smell the still wet blood on him, they would flock to him like sharks to a pool of chum. “Agent Rossi has already accepted his invitation, I have yet to hear from you and Agent Morgan. This is mandatory, you understand...there may have been formal invitations, but you don't turn these gatherings down Aaron. Not if you know what's good for you.”

“Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't hesitate but things are...”

“Aaron. You're coming, and so is Agent Morgan. The BAU has had an interesting year and the Director insists on your coming. It's imperative.”

He didn't even agree, he just stopped trying to say no. That was about as much as she would get out of him, that and a promise to talk to Derek.

“You'll impress on him the importance of this party, won't you?”

“I will.”

(x)

Standing outside of the restaurant, Hotch felt his stomach twist. He was ten minutes early, not the earliest he'd ever shown up for a reservation by a long shot, but he felt like a nervous child at a Christmas pageant nonetheless. Anticipation would have been nice, too, it had been years since he and Derek had had a proper meal together without the rest of the team around. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss it. In the meantime, so much life had happened he almost thought something like this might never happen again. Unfortunately, all of the happy anticipation of rekindling their friendship was lost as he tried to figure out how best to tell Derek he was required to attend a party neither of them wanted to be anywhere near.

“You came,” Derek announced from behind him, hands shoved deep inside the pockets of his leather jacket. Hotch side-stepped and nodded, his own fists balled up freezing inside of his pockets. He tugged the wool pea-coat tighter around him, glancing up into the light snow flurrying in the glow of the streetlamp.

“I did.” He paused, and once more glanced into the darkened restaurant. At its moody candlelight, and he felt that twist again. He couldn't do it. Not there. If he was going to spring this on Derek, he was going to at least do it in a place where Derek would have the freedom to react as intensely as he wanted without fear. “I know you made reservations, and I do love this restaurant, but I was thinking perhaps tonight we could go and eat at Laces Out instead. I'm in the mood for a beer and some stale peanuts.”

Laces Out was a sports bar that the two of them had met up at after work nearly every night in the old days. Sometimes they would just sit with sodas and pretzels and laugh about something Gideon said or did, sometimes they would drown the horrors of the day in a pitcher of beer and stunned silence. Always together, though, no matter what. The look of complete relief that crossed Derek's features at Hotch's suggestion was a balm on his soul. He'd been a little worried to throw a wrench in the night's plans.

“Hell yeah, man. Let's do it. My bike is right up the road, let me give you a lift.”

“In the snow? We can walk.”

“This? Man, this isn't snow. You even seen Chicago in December? This is nothing. Come on, it's not even sticking. Grow a pair.”

Growing a pair, Hotch realized quickly, meant sitting on the wet seat of Derek's motorcycle with his arms wrapped around the other man's waist. They weren't going far, they easily could have walked, but something told him that Derek had a different motive...he was showing off a little. Hotch didn't mind. There was something the two of them had been dancing around a long time, and it almost seemed to be coming to a head tonight. Besides, he carried an extra helmet in his saddle bag and that was all Hotch cared about.

“Hold on tight. Squeeze the life outta me.” Hotch wrapped his arms around Derek's waist and leaned heavy against him, felt Derek's hands tug at his arms until he was latched on even tighter. “That all you've got? I said tight. Do not let go until the kick is down, you understand?”

“Got it.”

The ride was wet, his pants ended up splattered with murky snow water splashed from the street and his shoes were going to need a little extra care tonight in order for them to return to their former glory, but he had to admit it was exhilarating in ways he'd never experienced. Being so completely exposed, no false sense of security from molded steel and a belt of fabric. He was held on only by gravity, like being on the Gravitron at the fair...that and his death grip on Derek's waist. Derek was steady, and the way he tensed beneath Hotch's arms, the way his heart thundered against his ribs directly into Hotch's...

The bike purred to a stop in front of the bar and Hotch did as he was told, he waited for Derek to kick the stand down before he released his grip. That was hard, his hands had locked in place, his back curved for so long around the sublime shape of Derek already ached when he straightened up, stretched it, arched it.

“Told ya we'd survive. Snow.”

“I didn't exactly doubt you.”

“Sure you did. Let's go warm up with some spicy wings, huh?”

(x)

Practically forcing Derek to accept the “invitation” to the Director's party was harder than he'd anticipated, and it came with more than a little guilt. “I know you don't want to go,” he began, sipping his beer. The thick creamy foam stuck to his lip and he let out a little sigh as he dabbed at it with the corner of his napkin. The beer was dark, almost black, and tasted like burnt molasses. It warmed his belly. “But Chief Strauss was adamant that we attend. To quote her, it's imperative we attend.”

“So we did something she's trying to take credit for...she wants us to come perform like her trained monkeys, that it?” He paused and sighed, gulping half of his beer in one go. “Man, I'm supposed to fly to Chicago that night to spend Christmas with my family. I already told her that.”

“I'm not sure that the Director cares much for our personal lives. If he doesn't have one, neither do we. Care to guess how many ex-wives he's got?”

“Hotch...” Derek pleaded, pulling his chicken wing apart absentmindedly. Suddenly his appetite was gone. “Aaron. I promised my mom. I haven't been home in years for the holidays.”

“If you can get your flight changed, even by a few hours, I promise I will get you out of there in time.” It was a big promise, one he had absolutely no business making...and yet here he was, making it anyway. He would simply make it happen, plain and simple. Chief Strauss would be pleased, and Derek would make it home. He could work a miracle, even if it killed him.

(x)

The party was about as painful as either of them had imagined. Hotch showed up right on time, prepared for the onslaught of false sympathy and thinly veiled morbid curiosity. He received the pats on the shoulder and the questions with the same level of vague disinterest, nodding curtly and using as few words as possible to answer the most deeply violating questions. At the far end of the hall was a Christmas tree that was nearly blinding, its height testing the limits of the word impressive, decorated with decadent ornaments and lights that probably cost more than four months rent at his apartment. Beside the tree was a grand piano and a pianist wildly churning out Christmas melodies for the boozed up dancers on the waxed floor.

Hotch would not be joining them, no matter how many times he was asked.

He glanced around the room to see if he could spot Strauss, figuring he should make it well known to her that he'd come. Once he'd accomplished that step, he would try to find Dave and Derek, after which time he would begin artfully crafting his quiet exit strategy. He'd grown up attending these sorts of parties, watching the grown ups schmooze and rub elbows and promise favors and talk votes and tactics and he'd quietly taken note. He could do this in his sleep. Make enough of an impression that he could manage to collect a few favors himself while rarely, if ever, promising any of his own...but in the end he was barely more remarkable than the wallpaper imprinted on the memories of the party goers. There would never be stories told of his antics, never be a moment around the water cooler where people might wonder at something he'd said or done. He knew how to impress and disappear rapidly.

Derek, on the other hand, was already laughing in a crowd of people and Hotch stood back reverently and watched him feed on the attention. His smile was bright, charming, easy. Derek was remarkable. You would never know, from the look of it, how badly he did not want to be at that party. How hard he'd tried to escape it. How he'd even gone so far as to fake a cough on the phone, a last ditch effort. He danced with every old woman who offered her hand, turned them around and around on the dance floor like Prince Charming, until Hotch finally cut in. They stood face to face, and Derek held out his hand in a mock invitation. “You looking for a turn?”

Hotch glanced down at Derek's hand with a smirk, and maybe on another plane of existence he might have let himself take that hand..jokingly (or not so jokingly) dance to “White Christmas”, soak in Derek's warmth. But instead he indicated the grandfather clock perched near the kitchen door.

“Your flight leaves in an hour. If we slip out now, you'll just make it in time.”

“We?” Derek whispered, leaning close to Hotch like they were discussing something important. With a little surprise, his eyes flickered over a point of intense sudden interest: a small scar on Hotch's ear. The telltale remnants of an earring, long since closed over. He said nothing. Just cataloged it for future reference. Hotch...Aaron Hotchner...once wore an earring. That in and of itself wasn't too remarkable, he had lived through the 90s too and had many piercings to show for it, but just having noticed it now after so many years? He was ashamed of himself. He should have been buying Hotch earrings all these years for his birthday. Missed opportunities.

“I'm not staying here. I've had more than enough. Should we be caught, I expect you to follow my lead, go along with everything I say.”

They slipped away from the hall and through the swinging kitchen doors without anyone managing to stop them. Hotch walked so tall and with such purpose that no one even dared approach him, hell Derek didn't even think people were brave enough to try...he simply looked like he owned the place. A few of the cooks glanced up at them as they walked through, but they were all way too busy to care. They looked like they were in the weeds enough as it was. “Through here,” Hotch instructed, holding open another door that led them into a darkened corridor. “There's a stairwell at the end of the hallway that will lead us to the parking lot.”

As it happened, Hotch didn't need to use his backup plan. He'd given Jessica firm instructions to call him at an exact time unless he sent her an all clear message...she was always more than happy to help him get out of these things. She'd been doing it since they were teenagers. Her stories used to be elaborate, sometimes ending in catastrophe. She'd grown subdued as she aged, a fact he was somewhat grateful for though he did enjoy watching her cause a scene in front of his parents' mortified guests. She'd pretended to choke on a shrimp once, she'd started a small fire in the kitchen at the crème brulee station another time, and she knocked over the Christmas tree on his favorite occasion by releasing a stray cat into the home. She'd been hoping for a squirrel or a raccoon, but as she pointed out later, beggars can't be choosers and the neighbors had a handful of feral barn cats.

His parents never did care much for her. Hard to understand why as she ruined their parties and then ran off into the evening with their disobedient teenage son. Haley would roll her eyes at them later, but she would reap the benefits by getting to spend the evening with her boyfriend so she didn't complain too badly.

This time Jess was only going to call and allow him to say they had to do an emergency consult. Simple. No one would question it. But no one even cared, they were all far too busy drinking from the open bar on the Director's dime to notice the defectors. Dave would notice first, but Hotch trusted that he wouldn't rat them out. He would also know that he could expect to find a bottle of scotch on his desk the next day as a thank you for his discretion.

“Merry Christmas, Derek,” Hotch said as he watched Derek slip through the lot toward his bike. Derek turned and waved, shouting a quick thanks.

“See ya next year!” Same joke, every year. Hotch smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets, walking toward his own vehicle. He had things to finish at the office before he could head home. Jack would already be in bed, another hour or two wouldn't hurt anything.

(x)

The team assembling in the conference room three days after Christmas wasn't surprising but they all noticed that Derek wasn't there and were none to happy. “What, he gets to stay on vacation but we have to come? I think the boss is playing favorites,” Emily grunted while Hotch handed JJ the remote. “Just because he's the prettiest one here doesn't mean he gets special treatment.”

“The case is in Chicago, and seeing as he's already there I didn't see any point in making him come back just to debrief and fly back. Do you?” He waited for Emily's smirk to fade before continuing. “He's been sent all of the information and he'll meet us a the police station, he's already there now setting up.”

Emily muttered something under her breath that made Dave chuckle, but Hotch was too focused on the photos on the screen to care much. They had a right to be upset, their time off was being threatened...they already didn't get much of it. But work was work, and people were dying. Serial killers rarely took the holidays off.

(x)

“How was your Christmas?” Derek asked while they sat up their victimology board in the conference room. He'd already prepared most of it, gathered files, talked with the LEOs. Things were organized well by the time Hotch walked in with JJ and Spencer in tow. He'd sent Emily with Dave to the crime scene. “Was Jack okay?” What he meant to say was how was your first Christmas without Haley, but in fewer words. And Hotch appreciated his quiet candor. Everyone else had approached him with kid gloves, skirting around it, insinuating that it must have been a wonderful time with just he and Jack because if it wasn't...well he must have really screwed up. The way everyone expected them to be fine, for him to fall into the role of single parent and Santa Claus effortlessly while still maintaining his job was absurd, but he smiled his way through it and thanked them for their concern. He didn't need to do any of that with Derek. Because Derek didn't want a canned answer, he wanted the gritty details. He wanted to know, and any potential ugliness would not deter him.

“Surprisingly nice. Jack cried less than Jessica and I did,” he said quietly, a little smirk appearing on his otherwise stony features. The case was grim and they were hanging gory photos one by one, but he simply couldn't help feeling at ease with Derek. “We didn't screw things up too badly, overall. There were a few mishaps, some burnt cookies and I didn't realize that I needed to purchase batteries for one of the toys. Overall I would call it a success. A Christmas miracle, perhaps.”

“Great, man. Glad to hear it.”

“It took two of us to muddle our way through what Haley did single-handed...” The mood darkened briefly, and Derek placed his hand on Hotch's shoulder, offering him a supportive squeeze. He didn't remove it immediately, not when he noticed the tears in Hotch's eyes. They were blinked away in an instant. Not at work. Not in front of a board full of victims.

“It'll just take time. I remember the first Christmas without my dad, my mom cried all day. In fact, she cried her way through every birthday and holiday that year.”

Hotch smiled sadly through the threatening tears, and realized somewhere warm inside of him that Derek still hadn't removed his hand from his shoulder. “Noted.”

(x)

The blizzard shut down the city almost completely. Snow was no longer being measured in inches but feet. Hotch understood now what Derek meant by his blatant dismissal of the snow flurries they'd experienced the week prior.

It didn't seem to stop their unsub, though, in fact if anything it made him bolder. Certain that he couldn't be caught because who would come out in this weather? He began leaving bodies in the snow, red drenching white, forcing the BAU to tramp through the stuff up to their knees to view victims. It was two days of terror as people barricaded themselves inside of their homes and Chicago's very own Jack the Ripper owned the streets.

How both Hotch and JJ wound up in the Emergency Room bleeding was a source of mystery to the team until the two of them woke and insisted they were attacked as they walked to get coffee for the officers, and then, when the unsub realized they were FBI he called 911 and fled the scene. Those details might have been important, might even have led to an arrest, if not for a group of people working downtown who apprehended a man covered in blood just a few blocks away and held him down until the police arrived. It was happenstance, dumb luck maybe, brave citizens trying to put an end to the fear. Trying to bring back some damn holiday spirit. They didn't know if they'd caught the unsub or a victim, but they pinned him nonetheless. JJ, the first to regain consciousness, positively ID'd him as the man who attacked she and Hotch...and that was it. Dumb luck. Coincidence. A miracle.

“What are the odds?” JJ asked as she followed behind Emily, an ice pack held gingerly to a gash on her forehead. They had an SUV waiting already, warm and ready to head to Derek's mother's house for a New Years Eve dinner and some much needed relaxation.

“Who do you think you're talking to?” Emily replied with a smirk opening the door for JJ to slide inside. “Ask Reid when we get to Derek's mom's place.”

Derek insisted that he would stay behind to gather Hotch when they released him so the rest of the team could start their partying. With Hotch incapacitated, he was the one in charge so it only made sense that he be around in case there were problems, in case the police needed him. In case. He'd only been out of the role a few weeks, it still felt fresh and real. It was hard to go back to just being SSA Derek Morgan again, though he didn't mind the lack of stress. He'd almost thought he was developing an ulcer for a while and had no idea how Hotch did that job for so long, wanted to continue doing it.

Hotch was awake and fussy, getting stitches in his leg that he insisted weren't necessary. A silly argument, and one he wouldn't be winning. Derek was pacing in the hallway until finally the nurses asked him to come in. “He says you can sit with him if you'd like.”

“He doesn't want me in there with him. He being a pain in the ass? You need some help?”

The nurse laughed and shook her head. “That stringbean? He's nothing I can't handle. He just said he can see you pacing out here and thought he should invite you inside so you'd stop worrying.”

“I'm not worried.”

“Sure, honey. Well suit yourself, come in or don't...we're about to stitch up his leg.”

He followed along behind her dutifully and stood close to Hotch as soon as an opening appeared. “You need me to hold your hand?”

“I was going to ask you the same. You looked a little nervous out there.”

Derek watched as they swiped Hotch's leg with a wet soapy rag and then set to shaving a large patch around the gash they'd cleaned up. Another thing he could make fun of him for later...just wait until they were knocking around the punching bags in Cooper's gym and he caught sight of that patchy leg. The cut itself was gnarly but Hotch didn't seem to pay it much mind, they'd obviously already numbed the area and by the dim look in his eye had also slipped him something to put him at ease. Derek, however, couldn't tear his eyes away...beneath a patch of the hair, he noticed, was a small faded symbol. Some sort of tattoo he realized as he peered closer.

He was willing to let the earring slide, but now a tattoo? It was like he barely knew Hotch. “Dude.”

Hotch glanced up at him, then peered at his leg curiously. “I was a teenager once, too. No one is immune.”

“What is it?”

Hotch frowned. “You know, I don't remember.” Derek didn't believe him, not for a second and the look he gave Hotch said as much. Loudly. “Okay. It's a skull and crossbones, for the play I joined in order to meet Haley. Jessica went through a phase where she fancied herself a tattoo artist.” She'd managed to make a decent wage doing it for kids at school under the bleachers until she got caught. It had paid for a year of insurance on her car and a few pizza dates for she and Haley with Hotch and Sean, a favor she definitely more than owed him for allowing himself to be her guinea pig.

“What did she have to pay you in order to let her near you with a needle and a ballpoint pen?”

“I'd rather not say.” Derek let him shroud that part in mystery, the man was already being far more open than Derek had any right to expect. He could imagine. He'd lived through plenty of his own rebellious teenage years. The payment would seem childish now, or perhaps inappropriate. Whatever it was, Hotch didn't want to say. Instead of prying further, he altered course.

“You let Jessica pierce that ear, too?”

Hotch groaned miserably. “That was the result of a bet I lost to Haley the summer before university.”

“What'd you wear in there?”

The nurse was already stitching Hotch's leg, and he was so engrossed in the conversation (and his humiliation) that he barely even noticed. Derek counted ten stitches by the time she finished and began cleaning up. “A stud with Haley's birthstone in it.”

Derek rolled his eyes and pretended to gag. “How romantic.”

They were being cut loose with instructions to keep it clean and watch for infection before he could ask any further questions about Hotch's mysterious teenage years. They didn't say anything either of them didn't already know. Just the usual. Hotch was pretty sure he could recite it from memory. Keep them clean, keep them dry, keep them covered, watch for infection. Derek insisted on walking a little close once they were out on the ice. “Can't have you falling and busting those stitches wide open.”

“Of course.” Hotch let Derek hook their arms and, without argument, even let Derek open the door to the SUV for him. The passenger door.

(x)

Fran's house was lit up still with Christmas lights, outside and in, and she'd left the tree up for some extra festivity. Derek could remember holidays in the past, especially after his father passed, when the tree was up until mid-January because none of them could bear to let go of the cheery lights. There were ornaments on the tree that they hated to box up, photos framed in popsicle sticks of Derek missing his front teeth and his father in his uniform. His father's badge was hot glued to the front of the skirt on the angel that sat atop the tree and Derek's own badge hung by a little metal hook somewhere among the red and green and white glass balls. Their tree wasn't the kind you'd find in a department store window, but Hotch's first thought was that it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

It was a picture of pure love. The tree put up in his own childhood home was filled with store bought decorations, new each year, depending on his mother's current color scheme obsession. In its own way, he supposed it was pretty, she had an eye for decor...but it was not this.

“You made it!” Fran squealed with delight as Derek led Hotch through the front door, warmth and the scent of cinnamon wrapping them up in a hug that felt like home. “And you brought Aaron with you! Here, I've made you a spot on the couch...oh dear, you're limping...”

“I'm alright, really.” He didn't put up much of a fight when she insisted he sit on the couch with his foot elevated on a pillow perched atop the coffee table she made everyone else use coasters on, and he didn't argue more than a little over the ice pack she lovingly draped over his leg. Derek tried harder than Hotch did to get her not to fuss but in the end, they both lost. Or won, depending on how you looked at it.

“Mom, he's okay. Just a few stitches making him walk like a pirate with a peg leg.” Hotch glared at him, his eyes nothing but slits. He knew very well how pointed that comment was and hoped Derek wouldn't let loose his secret, not so soon. The team did not need to know he had a tattoo, even something so benign. To his elation, Derek didn't pursue it. “Where's the grub? I bet he's starving...”

“You mean you're hungry?”

He gave her as innocent a look as he could muster and she dragged him toward the kitchen. After that, the evening was a swirl of action around Hotch as midnight drew nearer. Hotch had nearly forgotten it was New Years in all the chaos, and while his mind was still a soupy mess from the pills they'd given him in the hospital his leg was starting to throb just sitting there. He wanted to move around. He managed a quick call to Jessica and Jack in time for the ball drop and to say goodnight to his son while the team gathered around the television to watch the New Years Rockin' Eve show and make fun of the bad music they featured.

“Hey, you wanna see something amazing?” Derek asked, leaning over the arm of the couch to whisper in Hotch's ear. “Meet me outside just before midnight. Don't be late.”

Hotch did as he was told, waiting until he thought the time qualified as just before, and then limped out the front door with two glasses of champagne in his hands. No one even tried to stop him. Outside, the city was a blanket of silence, huge snowflakes falling heavy and thick into the street. It was midnight but the sky looked almost gray.

“Hey,” Derek said, beckoning to him to come down the steps and out into the street. “Can't see it from up there. Hurry it up, slowpoke.”

“I'm going as fast as I'm able,” Hotch argued indignantly, clinging to the railing of the stairs while he took the steps slowly. His leg didn't hurt, exactly, not now that he was up and about but it felt stiff. The line of stitches pulled beneath the gauze when he stepped. His sock was pulled high above the gauze, pinning it in place, and he'd even managed to put back on the sock garters. Nothing was going to move those bandages, and yet he still walked cautiously. Some part of Derek wondered if he hadn't put back on all those layers to hide something.

Even moving slowly, cautiously over the slick road in his dress shoes that had no business on ice, he still made it to Derek in time, two minutes to midnight. “What are we looking at, exactly?”

“Wait for it.”

They stood in silence, side by side, in the middle of the street. Above then hung heavy tree limbs shaking snow like powdered sugar on the street, and their attention was focused toward downtown.

And just like that, bright lights showered the sky. Sparks first, red and green and bright white, blue and purple and gold. The shuddering booms followed, one after another, fast and slow, rattling the street beneath their feet. The snow continued falling through the fireworks, nature not one to be outdone by man made displays, and Derek smiled, gulping down the glass of champagne Hotch had brought out for him.

And when he kissed Hotch, when he turned to the side and wrapped the other man in his arms and stole his breath, everything else faded but the rush of blood in his ears and that same feeling of hearts hammering in chests that they'd both felt on the motorcycle. That felt like a lifetime ago. The night he'd screwed up so spectacularly such a simple task as asking someone out, someone he'd been incredibly foolish to wait on for so long. The dangerous way he trusted that Hotch would always be there, that they had all the time in the world. Tonight it was only a few stitches and a stiff limp, but next time it could be worse. He was no longer willing to wait.

Hotch's arms circled his waist, and Derek's fear was abated when he kissed back, when his lips parted and let Derek's tongue slip almost hesitantly inside. The entire world fell away from them.

They didn't notice when Fran's entire house emptied out onto the street behind them to watch the show, when the entire neighborhood followed. They didn't notice until Emily sauntered up to them with the bottle of champagne and tapped on Hotch's shoulder, offering them a refill. They both held out their hands as their lips parted, noses still touching, and smiled. “Thank you,” Hotch whispered and Derek grinned and Emily rolled her eyes and overfilled their glasses until foam spilled out onto the snow. Bubbles fizzed and popped their way out of the glasses and landed in a cascade of lemony sparkles on their skin.

“Happy New Year you absolute morons,” she muttered, shaking her head. “It's about damn time.”

“Emily, I am still your boss,” Hotch reminded her, but she didn't seem to care. And truthfully, right then, he didn't either. There was plenty of time for anxiety and regrets, but with the fireworks screaming in the new year, he felt something that felt a lot like peace for the first time in months. He leaned forward and decided it was his turn to steal Derek's champagne-soaked breath with his icy lips while the entire neighborhood around them erupted in cheers for the new year.

[aplateoflasagna]

My thoughts on Batter Up by Babymonster

First things first; I really liked it! It's a good song and I'm happy to see that most people agree. Of course there is critisism, but there always is when big 4 groups debut (though I agree big 4 debuts should be held to a higher standard because they have all the money and connections)

The song is good. I'm not going to call it 10/10 because there are some things I wished were different, but overall I'm very satisfied with the result. It's catchy and it will still hold up when they are further in their career.

The chorus is a bit empty but it grew on me after a few listens. I do agree it sounds a bit too much like Lisa's Money. It sounds very much like a YG song (which is good for me because I love the YG sound), but with that, they kind of failed to let Baemon have their own unique sound right from debut. I remember YG stating that WINNER's music needed to be completely different from BigBang because they were YG's new boygroup and he wanted them to be unique and that worked. Now Baemon is getting compared to Blackpink and I understand why. It might be too similar to Blackpinks music which is a shame because the Babymonster members have such unique voices and they don't sound like BP at all.

And that's my second regret with the song. Their unique vocals don't stand out enough because there isn't enough singing in the song. They sing in the pre-chorus and that's kind of it. The verses are talk-singing and the chorus is empty. It would have been cool if they debuted with a bside that showed of their vocals more. (something RnB!)

The rap was great! I'll have to wait for Hyunsuk to go on Weverse live but It does seem like he wrote Ruka's part and Asa wrote her own rap. I'm happy Asa was able to fit her fast style of rapping in the song. I really love it alot.

I like the YG ending, I like that it's a song fans will be able to party to and chant to together with the members at the end. It has a fun vibe that's shown with the members smiling while performing the choreo in the MV (especially Chiquita!)

The MV is fun and, just like the song, will hold up well in a few years. It's a bit all over the place though, it's like they wanted to show as much as possible and forgot to make it narratively coherent. It's lots of cool sets that don't really have anything to do with eachother. I do think the the two themes in the MV were clearly 'Youth' (the classroom, the school bus, the uniforms, baseball) and 'New Beginnings' (Batter Up, the broken egg, the broken cage, the defrosting of the ice (I'll admit that one's a stretch lol). I'm happy it's so crowded though... After watching the teaser I was really worried it would be like 3 sets in a white void, so I was relieved watching the MV

The best scene is definitely Rora's flower scene. She looks absolutely gorgeous and she stole my heart 🙈

The outfits are all great too. I don't have a single complaint, they all look fantastic in every scene!!

They haven't shown the choreo much, but I'm not really impressed by what is shown in the MV. That doesn't really mean anything though. There have been many instances where I ended up loving the choreo if I saw it performed in full.

Spreaking of performances, will Baemon even go on music shows for Batter Up???? Apparently they aren't attending Inkigayo this week?? There has been no confirmation for any other music show performance and in december lots of music shows won't be broadcasting at all...

I've been a YG stan for quite a few years now and time and time again my patience and faith in the company is tested I swear to God. I have long learned not to get my hopes up, but only giving bare minimum promotion to your first girl group in 7 years seems a bit much no?? I really hope this is not the case and many more content is to come, but honestly I wouldn't be surprised it there wasn't.

There are many thing I probably forgot to talk about, but this is most of it. I miss Ahyeon, I think this concept would suit her very well and if she ever rejoins the group she would fit in perfectly! Nevertheless I'm very proud of the records Baemon has broken already. Most watched kpop group debut MV in the first 24 hours ever 👑 + most watched Kpop group MV in the first 24 hours in 2023 🏆

Congratulation on debuting Babymonster! 👏👏👏 I hope we get to see a live performance very soon 🙏

[free-pool-trash]

happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

[not-enough-teeth-and-treasures]

An Autistic’s Perspective on Tears of Themis’ Representation (spoiler alert: it’s bad)

Before you read, I should warn you that there will be spoilers for Chapter Five! Read at your own risk. Also, trigger warning for discussions of ableism and harmful disablility stereotypes. I get pretty heated as well, so if you’re not a fan of swearing and stuff, then it might be best to skip this.

So, I was debating whether or not I wanted to talk about this, mostly because this game doesn’t do anything new in regards to the perception of autism in media. Unfortunately, it ends up leaning into a lot of not great tropes and goes into “what the fuck that’s incredibly offensive territory” waaay to quickly. So here I am.

The most prevelant character with autism (or who we start out thinking has autism. Don’t worry, I’ll get to that) is a small, supergenius child (a boy as well *sigh*) is so overdone at this point that there aren’t many new criticisms I can say. The stereotype of autism presented in media is overwhelmingly extremely intelligent (usually with sciency or math based interests) men with no ability to socialize or be kind to others. This not only paints autism as a disability that effects men primarily (which creates intense stigma around AFAB autistic people and makes it harder for us to get diagnosed or believed), but also creates this expectation of greatness. Autistic people are often held to superhuman standards, which further others and dehumanizes us in the eyes of allistic people. The vast majority of autistic people are not savants, and that it perfectly fine.

But all of this is pretty standard. The red flags started popping up when it was revealed that the autistic kid, Hugh, doesn’t actually have autism and is faking it in order to keep people from asking hard questions about him or trying to pry into his life (which is full of secrets). I’m definitely not a fan of perpetuating the idea that people fake diabilities in order to manipulate people, so this plot twist was not my favorite. However, it wasn’t really enough to inspire me to write a whole ass essay about the representation. And then I got to the fucking text conversation with Vyn.

Here is where I’m gonna put a trigger warning for talk about eugenics, curing autism, ableism, and basically just a fuck ton of awful shit. Fuck, this makes me so mad.

So, I went in and took screenshots of both options just to see, and all of them lead to terrible bullshit. Lets start out pretty light with the MC and Vyn discussing symptoms.

This is a pretty limited and honestly incomplete explanation of autistic behaviors. These can definitely be symptoms, but they’re heavily overcovered and really basic. A lot of autistic people don’t have these symptoms, and it would be really nice if more media branched out and covered more of the spectrum. However, considering they don’t do anything different in any other areas, I’m not surprised.

Also not a fan of Vyn’s use of “abnormal.” It has some very negative connotations and is a bit insulting, honestly. These behaviors are perfectly “normal;” they’re just not as accepted by neurotypical people. Plus, no behaviors can really be labeled as normal because humans are complex and different.

That was the easy shit. Let’s get into the truly awful garbage.

This is treading into ABA territory here. For those of you who are unaware, ABA is pushed as the best autistic therapy, but a large majority of autistic adults consider it to be abusive and unhelpful. This is mainly because it seeks to “correct” many behaviors that are helpful for autistic people. It seeks to surpress stims (which are behaviors that improve the mental health of autistic children), force us to talk (as opposed to letting us use sign language and technology), and more. This harms our mental health and makes us ashamed of who we are. These behaviors do not need to be “corrected.” We don’t need to act “normally.” All this therapy does is make us more palitable for neurotypical people, and it’s bullshit.

It also doesn’t help that ABA was pioneered by Ivar Lovaas, a man who did not believe autistic people were human. He developed ABA as a way to “build a person” using harsh punishments such as withholding affection and ELECTRIC SHOCKS. If you think this is a think of the past, you’d be wrong. Electric shocks are still being used to harm disabled people. Look up the hashtag #StopTheShock to learn more and help push for legislation that bans this practice.

Oh, and did I mention Ivar Lovaas also inspired gay conversion therapy? Because he did! So yeah, fuck ABA and fuck Vyn for performing it (god damn it, Vyn, I liked you a lot).

And now, onto the eugenics. Fuck my life.

FUCK! THIS! BULLSHIT!

I am so tired of autism being treated as this horrific disease that needs a cure. I had a perfectly fine childhood. Yes, it was hard at times, yes I got traumatized, but a large part of that was due to ableism and abuse from teachers and peers. A large reason why autistic people suffer is because the world is not built for us, and we are often denied accommodations that would make our lives better.

It is beyond offensive and disgusting to suggest that we would be better off not existing than “suffering so much” because of autism. Because that is what this game and everyone else who thinks there should be a cure is suggesting. There is no me without autism. it literally affects my brain structure. You are wishing for a completely different person when you tell me that autism should be cured.

Now, I’m not going to get into the horrible consent issues that arise from talks about a cure, including genetic editing, fear mongering to parents so they think abortion is the only option, and straight up Nazi style eugenics. I do not have the spoons to delve into that exhausting discussion. But if you want to know more, then there are so many incredible autistic people who have written blogs, Twitter threads, and more about why a cure is a terrible idea.

Oh, and if you’re going to come at me with the “severely autistic people should be cured” bullshit, don’t bother. There is no such thing as “severe” autism, first of all, and second, non verbal autistic people (which are who people think of when they talk about “severe” autism), largely don’t want a cure. There have been so many surveys of tens of thousands of autistic people, and the result is that the overwhelming majority do not want to be cured. We want support and proper accommodations. Listen to us.

So, in conclusion, fuck this text conversation and it’s ableist and offensive bullshit. I really wish ToT had stayed away from autism, or at the very least did not touch on therapy or a possible cure. For a game that is about genetic experimentation on children and how bad that is, it sure peddles a lot of eugenics.

Fuck, this text conversation actually made me ill and I hate that. I’m so done with constantly trying to prove to the world that I am a human being who deserves to exist. I’m gonna go cuddle my service dog now.

[asmo-ds]

I've seen alot of headcanons about Simeon turning into a demon, but how would everyone react if Luke managed to turn himself into a demon 🤔 Like maybe he didn't amount up to Celestial Standards (I headcanon the Celestial realm is kinda weird due to the events of the anelic event) and then he made some type of minor violation and they kicked him out of heaven to avoid the possibility of him growing up to be undesirable in the Celestial Realm

When a Child Falls

Luke-centric ANGST & FLUFF

Warnings: Pain, falling from heaven, Luke hurting :(

Summary: After failing to live up to the standards of his superiors Luke is kicked out of the Celestial Realm and becomes a demon. Luckily for him the exchange program had given him so many new and old friends who wanted nothing but to help the poor child despite any bitter past they may have had with him

a/n: i was gonna do headcanons but then i was like what if i make a whole one shot about him falling and everyone helping him adjust to his new life and uh yea <3

Also this didn’t come out as angsty as I wanted it to but demon brothers comforting a fallen Luke >>>>>>>

He tugged on his own arm, begging for the elder angel to release him and give him a second chance, his once hopeful blue eyes filled with tears and terror. 

“Stop, I swear I just need more time, PLEASE!” Luke cried, punching the elder’s arm and attempting to pry his wrinkly hands from Luke’s small forearm. The elder yanked Luke’s arm harder, resulting in a distressed cry from the short blond.

Luke tried to steady his breathing as they approached the boundaries of the Celestial realm, where he was to be pushed off for his failure to earn his wings in a timely manner. The Celestial realm saw him as useless and decided they would be better off discarding a weak angel like himself.

“LET HIM GO, PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS!” Luke could hear Simeon’s breaking voice screaming at the elders who held him back from Luke to prevent any interference, “JUST LET ME SAY GOODBYE PLEASE,” he begged to which the elder finally agreed and the two embraced tightly. “Luke you listen to me, you get to the Devildom you go STRAIGHT to Lucifer, he helped his brothers and himself through his fall he can help you, please, trust him with at least getting you through the transition then you can hate them again or whatever you want, pl-”

“I get it, Simeon, I promise I won’t let you down,” Luke interrupted, tears falling from his eyes onto Simeon’s broad shoulders. 

“Times up. Luke come to the edge, stand here,” an elder guides him into position. 

Luke’s hearing starts ringing as his adrenaline kicks in, the fear of death and disappearing from existing overwhelming him. His breathing grew fast, and before he knew it, he felt a push and wind pounding against his skin as he fell, and fell, and fell, until he saw the Devildom soil and he tensed, preparing for the worst.

Instead of hitting the ground he hears a fwoosh and finds himself caught in strong arms.

“Luke! What happened, where is Simeon? A young angel like you shouldn’t be down here all al-” Lucifer starts questioning the angel, concerned to see the small boy falling from so high. He was interrupted by a cry of agony, Luke pushed away from Lucifer, doubling over and screaming as the pain began to set in.

Lucifer recognized the transition immediately and how badly it hurt his brothers, so he gently approached the young boy, who glared at him with teary pained eyes, and he murmured a spell, before darkness washed over Luke.

- 

His innocent blue eyes fluttered open, not recognizing his surroundings, he sat up quickly, wincing and hissing as his back was suddenly filled with unbearable pain. 

Oh that’s right, I fell. They pushed me and now…His eyes snap open, remembering the feeling of falling, but nothing that happened afterward.

“I have… to find… Lucifer..” Luke spoke to himself, taking short breaks between every few words to take a painful breath, feeling his ribcage expand and contract as his wheezing continued.

“I’ve already found you, Luke, you’re in one of the bedrooms of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Please lay back and take off your shirt, your back is bound to be in a lot of pain, this serum will help.” The blond flinches as Lucifer rises from a chair next to the bed where he laid. 

Luke raises his arms and let Lucifer take off the shirt before laying on his stomach.

He hears Lucifer’s breath catch in his throat as he stares in horror at Luke’s back, where wings were starting to form, dark and mangled with feathers tangled and in need of a cleaning.

So like that, Lucifer kept Luke safe and took care of him whilst the other brothers prepared a room at the House of Lamentation for him to stay.

-

“Luke, I’ve brought you some tea and cake,” Barbatos walks into the bedroom carrying some snacks and drinks for the injured boy.

“Thank you Barbatos, I missed your cooking,” Luke smiles slightly before taking a big bite of cake and groaning. “Like, I really missed it-”

“Yes, Barbatos makes splendid food, which is why I keep him around!” Diavolo winks, nudging Barbatos with his elbow a bit.

“Actually sir, you only keep me around because no other demon has been able to keep up with your antics-”

“ANYWAY, Luke your wings look like they’re growing in nicely, and so do your horns,” Diavolo walks over to examine Luke’s new form. “You’ll probably be in a lot of pain for at least a few more days, but if you want to get situated into your new home we can let you go and just check in on you everyday.”

“Uh… I don’t want to intrude at the House of Lamentation, if it’s going to be any sort of burden to them-”

“Nonsense, my brothers and I are glad to take care of you and take you in, you experienced the same fate as us, albeit for different reasons, but still, we know your pain and we want to guide you so please, Luke, let us help you,” Lucifer places a reassuring hand on Luke’s shoulder as he says this.

“...Okay, BUT no calling me a chihuahua- GOT IT?!” Luke pokes Lucifer’s chest aggressively and earns a hearty chuckle from him.

“I agree not to call you a dog anymore,” Lucifer laughs out, “though I cannot speak for my brothers.”

-

“I can’t believe the chihuahua of all people got kicked out…” Mammon says, still in shock that the angel who had been so determined to make people smile just a year before during the exchange program had somehow managed to get himself thrown out of heaven.

“I remember when I almost didn’t earn my wings in time,” Asmodeus shudders at the memories of being threatened with exile and constantly pushing himself way too hard, “I got so many wrinkles from the stress.”

“Luke makes good food, I’m glad he’s staying with us.” Beel’s mouth was watering as he and Mammon moved a dresser, finally finishing getting Luke’s new room in order.

“Oi, try to be sympathetic when he gets here Beel. He may be a little annoying kid but he’s going through what we went through,” Mammon scolded his younger brother, an uncomfortable silence taking over the room as each and every one of them remembers the pain they were in as their bodies morphed into those of demons.

“God is such an asshole…” Belphegor mutters, getting extremely angry the more he thinks about it.

Luke had done nothing wrong, Lilith had done nothing wrong, so why? Why would he keep getting rid of the most determined of his angels over such insignificant things?

Suddenly all their phones go off with a text from Lucifer saying he and the boy would be arriving soon. They all gathered in the entrance hall, waiting for Luke to arrive. The front door creaked open, all of the brothers standing up straighter and nervous as Lucifer stepped through the entrance with Luke just behind him. 

The brothers all gasped quietly in shock at the state of Luke. He was pale and thin and the look of complete and utter despair in his formerly innocent eyes filling the room with a depressing atmosphere.

“H-hey there Fido- I mean- Luke, how’re you feeling?” Mammon tries to start up a welcoming conversation, getting a nasty look from Lucifer, who Luke was clinging to for dear life.

“Luke! As soon as you’re feeling able to, what do you say we bake something together?” Beel smiles sweetly, most of them getting nothing but nervous looks from Luke in response to their questions.

“I’m just going to help him get settled in. Satan you’re in charge of everything else around the house while I take care of Luke and my own paperwork.” Lucifer guides Luke up the stairs.

Satan rolls his eyes but mutters a small “fine,” before the two head upstairs to the attic, where they’d set up the room to look just like the dorm he stayed in at Purgatory Hall.

“Oh wow, it feels like I’m back in the exchange program,” Luke chuckles a little, clearly faking any sort of joy.

“Luke,” Lucifer kneels down, “you are one of my brothers now, you have nothing to fear, and Simeon will be able to visit at some point-” His attempt to ease Luke’s worries is interrupted by a loud sob.

“Don’t you get it?! Michael and Simeon will never look at me the same, ever again!” Luke wails, using his sleeves to wipe the tears that streamed down his face. “All I ever wanted was to impress them! To impress God and make humans happy and protect them! But now my natural instinct to hurt humans ruins any chance of me becoming the person I’d always thought I’d be!” Luke falls to his knees, sobbing and wheezing, his vision becoming blurry as a panic attack hits him like a truck. He can barely hear anything except for Lucifer calling out a name, and all he could make out was that it wasn’t his own name. A dark figure walks into the room and Luke hears muffled voices for a minute before he is suddenly extremely calm, his eyelids growing a bit heavy and he feels exhausted.

He then realizes someone was holding him and murmuring some sort of spell, causing him to panic once more, but this time he was perfectly aware and just jumped up ready to fight.

“Hey you dirty demon! Don’t use your dark magic on me or else I’ll-”

“Pfft hahaha,” Belphegor laughs hard, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “you still look like a chihuahua when you get annoyed!” Belphie teases and Luke blushes, before running at Belphie and tackling him, leading to a wrestling match on the floor as Lucifer stands by and watches the two of them closely, to ensure nobody got hurt under his watch. 

-

Dinner was the worst, to be honest. Luke had asked Lucifer if he could cook to say thanks for taking him in, but now he sat awkwardly and all of the brothers remained quiet, watching his every move and watching him like he was an injured little puppy.

“I-is the food not good?” Luke questions looking around nervously.

“AH- no its great Fido- LUKE, ah jeez I’m getting a headache this is so hard to adjust to,” Mammon slams his head on the table, earning a glare from Asmo and Satan who he sat between.

“Anyways, I know you’ve been to the Devildom before and don’t really need a tour BUT you’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg, there are so many more places to go!” Asmo smiles widely at Luke, “So let’s go together soon, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Ooooh Luke, you have to tell me what Celestial Realm video games are like, GAH I wish we had waited to start a war until after the invention of video games. Anyway I got a new one so I can show you a Devildom game and-”

“Shut yer trap Levi,” Mammon leans over the table to attempt to cover Levi’s mouth.

“But let the GREAT Mammon show ya all the best spots in town~”

“NO-no do not take the child Gambling, Mammon,” Asmo smacks him.

“Asmo for all we know you’re gonna scar him and take him to a strip club,” Belphegor smirks, knowing he just started a war.

“I WOULD NEVER, COME HERE YOU BRAT,” both of them in demon forms chasing each other around the house and screaming.

Suddenly everyone hears a child’s laughter and looks at the blond who had barely even smiled since arriving.

“We can try to do everything you guys want to show me,” Luke smiles. Everyone lets out a sigh of relief seeing that Luke was feeling more comfortable around them. “Um, question though… how do I go in and out of my… demon form?” 

“HAH that’s easy, just relax and let the GREAT Mammon teach ya!”

“Mammon, not yet. Luke, I will teach you, but we need to wait a bit longer or else the pain of transforming will be unbearable for you,” Lucifer looked down at the disappointed boy.

“Oh, ok.”

“Don’t look so gloomy Fid-LUKE JEEZ LOUISE- there's a lot the GREAT Mammon can teach ya in the mean time!” Mammon stands up with a cocky smile, hands on his hips. “Think of me as ya new master and you are my apprentice!”

“NO do not think of him like that he will make you do his dirty work,” Satan says, hitting Mammon in the stomach.

“Thank you,” Luke looks at Lucifer, “thank you for taking me in, I-I know we don’t have the best past and I was super rude towards demons during the exchange program but-but I’m trying to change for you guys! Thank you!” Luke bows his head, tears falling down his cheeks. The knowledge that he can never go back to the way he was bringing on more tears, but they didn’t mind. They’d been through the same process. So silently they all comforted him and welcomed him into their home with  open arms.

[fandom-puff]

Manhunt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Requested by: anon ‘Hey, I saw that your requests are open. Can I request a Tommy Shelby fic where y/n gets kidnapped, please? Maybe Tommy’s getting extremely angry and worried and only calms down when he gets her back. Of course it’s up to you. Female reader if possible. Thank you so much :)’

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, swearing, injury (result of knife, beatings)

Bold italics = flashback

Gif creds to owner

“Where the fuck’ve you been?” Polly demanded from her desk, arms folded and lips pursed as Tommy stumbled through the door.

“Ah, let him be, Pol,” Arthur grinned, clapping him on the back. “Reckon his head’s still on his honeymoon. Been stuck in bed with the missus all morning, eh, brother?”

Tommy smirked boyishly. “No. Fuckin’ car broke down. Anyway, YN left ours hours ago, said she was seeing Ada before she buggers back off to London,”

At that moment, Ada walked through the door, holding one of John and Esme’s kids on her hip, bouncing him gently. “I haven’t seen YN today, Tom. Didn’t show up to our reservation in that nice cafe. Haven’t heard from her, so I just thought she was with you,”

Tommy frowned deeply. “But... she left at half eight to catch the bus. I told her I’d give her a lift but she said she needed to run a few errands before she met up with you,” he checked his pocket watch quickly. “It’s gone noon. Are you lot sure you haven’t heard from or seen her?”

“Tom, it’s fine, she’s probably just caught up in the shops or something,” John said, lighting a cigarette.

“No. It’s not fucking fine, Johnboy. She left at half eight this morning, stood Ada up in her favourite cafe- and she’s been going on about it for weeks- and no one has seen hide nor hair of her for hours. Something’s wrong,”

Jaw set harshly, Tommy strode out of the betting shop, closely followed by his brothers. “Oi! Finn. Run and tell Sergeant Moss that I said to have a search party out. Tell him YN’s missing. Then on your way back, go to Charlie’s yard and tell him to keep an eye on the canals for her, alright. Good lad,” Finn nodded and began to run as fast as his legs would carry him.

“What about us, Tommy?” Arthur said. “Tell us what to do,”

***

Slowly, your eyes opened, though you still couldn’t see anything- a length of fabric covered your eyes, blocking out all light. Every inch of your body ached, and you became vaguely aware of the stinging sensation at your wrists- they were bound behind your back, the tightly knitted rope rubbing your skin raw. Judging by the slight jostling movement of your body and the hum of an engine below you, you were in a vehicle, being driven god knows where.

Deciding to keep quiet, you took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself, trying your hardest to recall the previous hours...

***

“I’ll see you later, Tom,” you smiled, giving your grinning husband a final kiss goodbye before setting off to the bus stop. Tommy had offered you a lift, but you declined, saying something about errands and scenery. It was an alright day, by British standards, the sun trying its hardest to peak through the thin clouds.

You were halfway to the bus stop when you felt a presence behind you. Hurrying your steps a little more, knowing the old gentleman from the village would likely be at the stop for his weekly shop, if you could just get around this bend, you dared a look behind you, before colliding head on with something- or rather someone.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir,” you said, making to step around him, but his arms shot out, grasping onto you while the man behind you yanked a fistful of your hair, tugging your head backwards.

“Don’t you worry, Shelby,” he said, a slight accent lacing his low voice. “You will be,”

You tried to stamp your heels down on the attackers’ shins, you made to bite the hands closest to your face, to wriggle as much as you could. As you began to scream, a damp cloth was held over your nose and mouth, making your eyes roll back and your body slacken, allowing the two men to drag you to their vehicle, hidden by the shrubbery and blossoming trees and the loud caws of the birds.

***

Tommy was in full panic mode. He had Peaky Blinders scouring the whole of Birmingham, Sergeant Moss had managed to telephone the London police and have a telegram sent to every constabulary in the country to keep an eye out. Johnny Doggs had the Lee boys out, and Charlie was stopping every boat the passed through the cut.

Tommy kicked the table in the betting shop, sending papers and coins flying. “Where the fuck is she?” He roared, eyes flashing with some anger, but mostly fear.

“We’re doing everything we can, Thomas,” Polly said firmly, patting her nephews back and pushing a cup of tea into his hands. “It’s well sugared. You need the energy,”

“It’s not fucking enough!” He yelled, taking one sip of the tea before slamming the cup down, sloshing the table. “She could be anywhere and we’re sat here like idiots!”

Polly sighed, retreating to man the phone, waiting for someone, anyone to phone with knowledge of your whereabouts.

“It’ll be alright, brother,” John said. “Esme’s down with the Lees making sure none of them are sat twiddling their thumbs. Moss has every copper in Birmingham on the case. Even the London coppers are looking for a Shelby, and their almost all under Solomons and Sabini,”

Tommy was quiet for a moment before he looked between his brothers. “Solomons and Sabini...” he said slowly, processing the information before his face hardened.

“Solomons is a mad bastard,” Arthur said quietly.

“Right. Car, now. We’re going to London,”

***

The blind fold was removed, but you still couldn’t see much. One of your eyes was swollen shut, and the room you were in was plunged in almost complete darkness. Your hands were still tied, only now they (along with your ankles) were bound to a chair. You tried to shuffle the chair along, but it made a loud grating scraping noise, and caused a blinding pain to shoot through your nerves. Something was definitely broken.

“Shelby,”

The voices echoed around the room as you heard the men draw closer, their footsteps rapping sharply against the concrete ground. You strained your good eye, trying to make out their faces, but you could only make out vague face shapes, plunged in shadows.

“I told you, I don’t have any information!” You said urgently, preparing yourself for another punch or kick.

It didn’t come. Instead you felt the cold edge of a thin blade pressing against your swollen cheek. He dragged the blade slowly and you hissed as your cheek bloomed with stinging pain, feeling your hot blood trickle down your face and neck.

“We don’t want information,” the other man said lowly as you felt the tip of the knife press against your neck briefly. You held your breath, preparing for the worst, before the blade dropped. You let out a shaky breath of relief, which quickly turned into a groan of pain as a thick finger dragged along the fresh wound. “We don’t need one of Shelby’s whores for information,” you shut your eyes tightly, willing your tears not to fall. “We want to destroy Tommy Shelby,”

***

“Thomas! Thomas! Stop the fucking car now!”

The car squealed to a halt and Tommy almost tripped over his own feet in his haste. “This had better be good, Pol,” he growled, grabbing hold of the phone. “Speaking,”

“That you, Tommy?”

Tommy gritted his teeth. “Aye, Solomons. Make it quick. I’ve no time for business now,”

“Yeah, I know, right. Right fuckin’ fuss you’ve kicked up, yeah. Looking for that wife of yours, I heard. Well, Tommy, my coppers have been out and about , right, searchin’ high and fuckin’ low. Found nothin’ right,”

“Alfie,” tommy hissed. “I’m on my way down to London, now. If you’ve got no information, I don’t wanna hear any of your fuckin’ stories, alright?”

“Oi, you watch your tone, Tommy. I’m getting there. See now, Ollie’s missus’s got a friend whose friend is the wife of a fuckin’ wop, right. She says, right, that your wife, YN, had been on Sabini’s fuckin’ hit list from the very start. He’s got his coppers trying to dismiss this ever so mysterious disappearance, right. But my coppers, yeah, Tommy, you followin’?”

“I’m following,” tommy said through gritted teeth.

“Right, well my coppers have received a tip off from one of Sabini’s coppers that there’s some funny business going on in the old abandoned warehouse, you know the one, the one up in Cheltenham, what the anarchists set fire to,”

“You sure, Alfie?”

“Course I’m fuckin’ sure. Off you go, Tommy,”

***

How long you had been on the floor for, you had no idea. Your arms and legs were no longer bound- not that it made any difference. You couldn’t move without a fresh round of pain turning your stomach. Tears mixed with blood on your cheeks; you could barely keep your eyes open; you lay next to a pool of your own vomit due to the pain; your clothes were soaking with your own blood and urine; you were ready to die.

***

Gunshots. Three of them.

Three voices shouting, although you couldn’t distinguish what they were saying.

The door swung open, flooding the room with light. You made to lift your head up off the floor, but sobbed in agony.

“Fuckin’ hell!”

“YN, it’s alright, I’m here! They’re gone, I’ve got you,”

You felt the familiar warm hands on your body, the strong arms lifting you, the distinct smell. But you couldn’t open your eyes- you were simply too tired.

“Tommy...” you breathed, one hand bunched up in his coat.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’ve got you. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you help, okay, my love. Don’t you worry one bit, okay?”

You nodded, trusting your eyes to shut, knowing that this time, tommy would be there to shake you awake, preventing you from giving into the darkness.

[forever-rogue]

Camisado 1/2

A/N: Hey, hi, hello! Here is first part my little Frankie Royalty AU, written for @its--fandom--darling ‘s follower celebration. The second part will be here soon, but for now enjoy some pain and angst!

Pairing: Frankie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: language, angst

PART 2

MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Francisco?” your voice was low and gentle as you stepped into kitchens and scanned the room for any sign of life. A frown crossed your features when you thought he might not be here at all, but he quickly popped up from behind the counters with a smile gracing his features and a dusting of flour on his nose.

“Hello there,” he beamed as you bounced over to him, quickly reaching up and wiping the flour away before kissing his nose.

“Hello there,” you repeated, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was there before pulling him in for a quick kiss, “I’ve missed you.”

"Feeling cheeky today, Princess?" Frankie's hands found your face as he pulled you closer to him and stole a handful of kisses. You were left breathless and yearning for more as eagerly grinned at him. He stopped for a moment and studied you gently playing with a lock of your hair, in awe of your beauty as always, "you are so beautiful, my love."

"And just who is feeling cheeky now, sweet Francisco?" you teased, running a hand through his dark curls as his hands found purchase on your waist. You giggled as he picked you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. He grinned as he pressed his forehead against yours.

"I think its you, Princess. Coming in here and openly kissing the kitchen boy?" he asked before kissing along your jaw and down your neck, causing you to bite back a moan, "so brazen. Where anyone could see us...my oh my."

"Shut up," you pulled him back to your lips, "its because I happen to be in love with you, you absolute fool!"

“Are you?” he must have been feeling extra cheeky because he slowly started to lift your skirts and trailed a hand along your calf, a juxtaposition of calloused hands and delicate skin as he kissed you till you were breathless, “I happen to be in love with you too, Princess.”

“Call me by my name,” you whispered in his ear, knowing there was nothing better than hearing it slip from his tongue. There was no need for formalities when it was just the two of you, there was no barrier, no difference, just two people in love, “please.”

And then it came forth, delicate and gentle as he trailed his lips along your neck, stopping just before the shell of your ear. He nipped lightly at the soft skin, making sure to leave no marks; if any were seen you’d both be dead. One day, you’d always promised, one day he could mark you as he pleased for the world to see, to let everyone know you were his. But he was no fool - he knew one day would never come, despite your honeyed words and saccharine promises. He was a servant, no more, no less, and you were a princess, everything he was not. 

But he did love you, truly, deeply, and completely, and you loved him. That was no lie - but you could never be together. It was just...the way the world worked. People like Francisco Morales didn’t get the opportunity to be with royalty. People like yourself were not allowed the liberty of love and choosing your own happiness and destiny.

“Francisco,” it was a heady whisper as you started to tug at his shirt, slowly un-tucking it from the waistband of his trousers. His hands were roaming your frame as you closed your eyes and lost yourself in him.

Before it could get any further, you heard your name shouted from afar. Both of you froze immediately, a sense of terror bubbling up inside as Frankie pulled back and you hopped off the counter and straightened your skirts while he tucked his shirt back in. Deft hands help to smooth your hair back into place as you both took a few steps apart to appear as if you had been engaging in polite conversation, rather than about to have one another on the kitchen counter.

“Princess!” you rolled your eyes dramatically at Frankie before he shot you a quick wink as your father’s guard stormed into the kitchen.

“Calm down,” you huffed with a sigh that you didn’t even bother to cover up as you waved him off, “no need to alert the cavalry, I’m right here.”

“What are you doing in the kitchens?”

“I fancied a snack,” you lied, reaching for an apple in the bowl that was thankfully right in front of you, “and I came into the kitchen to look for something, as one normally does when it has been some time since they’ve eaten.”

He scowled, somewhere between annoyance and not quite believing you. You swallowed nervously, praying there was nothing to prove what the two of you had actually been doing. There was no evidence that anything happened, so he couldn’t do anything, “your father and mother request your presence in his study. Immediately.”

“Immediately?” you scoffed, “I’ve got plans for my afternoon - anything important can surely be handled by my sister, no? She’s to be the Queen after all, not me. I’m nothing to them, except another burden. Surely they meant Helena and not me.”

“They asked for you specifically, Princess,” he was quick to grow weary of your attitude. Normally you were polite, and mostly kept to yourself, but this particular guard was nothing but pain. Everything with him had to be by the book and he refused any levity, “you’re to come with me.”

“Fine,” you agreed, you took a loud, crunching bite of your apple as you walked over to him. Waving a hand at him, you ushered him along, “let’s go then, and get this over with. I have a multitude of things I’d rather be doing.”

He was silent as he led the way, allowing you to steal one last look at Frankie, who was almost red-faced as he tried not to laugh. You blew him a kiss followed by a wave as you put on your most neutral and disinterested face. You’d come back and find him later to finish what you started; if nothing else, you at least would get to spend time with him. There was nothing better than that.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Ahhh, there she is,” your father stood up as soon as you walked into the room. Confusion marred your features as you look behind you to see who he was talking about. He walked over to you and put his hand on your shoulders and studied you, “I’m talking about you, of course. My youngest, my sweetest-”

“I’m not your youngest, father,” you reminded him, “I have two brothers, or have you forgotten about them? I’d also wager that-”

“Must you always talk back?” your mother’s face was set in a stern expression as she was perched on the edge of your father’s desk, “it’s unbecoming of a young lady. Husbands do not want a wife that’s always so haughty.”

“Bold of you to assume I want a husband,” you insisted as you crossed your arms over your chest, causing your father to sigh, “and if a husband does not want to listen to me talk or engage in conversation, then he is not a husband I want.”

“You don’t get a choice in that.”

“I refuse to marry a man I do not love.”

“You are not in a position to argue,” your father held up his hands, silencing the two of you, ever the neutral ruler. Rolling your eyes you waited for him to go on, “it is your duty, by birth, to marry a man of our choosing. You’re a Princess, you do not marry for love. You marry for relations, to produce heirs, for your people.”

“I am a second born,” you huffed, trying to understand what he was saying, “and a daughter at that. What does it matter? I’m not going to Queen, I’m just...me.”

“It does not matter,” your mother insisted, “you are a part of this family and you will do as we say. Your marriage is just as important as those of your sister and your younger brothers.”

“Fine,” there was no point in trying to argue, “should I ever find a man that I love that meets your standards, I’ll let you know. May I be excused now? I have other things I’d like to attend to -”

“That’s why you’re here,” your brow furrowed in confusion, but suddenly you felt like there was a lump in your throat, “you will get married and you will have a husband of our choosing. It just so happens that we’ve chosen one for you already.”

“What? No, no, no, no,” you eyes widened in shock as panic set deep in your bones, “you can’t just do that. W-with no warning-”

“We can and we have,” she raised an eyebrow, “you’re already older than you should be. Luckily, we’ve found a wonderful husband for you, the Lord of Easterly.”

“Easterly?” you repeated as you felt the life leave your heart, “he’s so much older, and he’s terrible! Everyone loathes him, surely you can’t be...you can’t be serious.”

“He’s a good match,” your mother insisted firmly, “and frankly are better than you could have hoped for. You should be thanking your lucky stars your father is king and could even arrange such a match at your age. You’re not getting any younger and you should have been married years ago.”

“Please,” your mind was already racing with hundred million thoughts, but they all went back to Frankie. You couldn’t get married, not to this man - a man you’d barely met and certainly didn’t love. No, no, no, this was all wrong. Suddenly your attitude went away and you were ready to beg and grovel, “please don’t do this. Please, you can’t force me to marry him...I beg of you. I will do anything, just don’t make me marry him. Please.”

“It also already done and settled,” her voice was cold and ice and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear there was a pleased little smirk tugging on the corners of her mouth, “you’ll be married by the end of next month and then you will go to live with your new husband. You may be unhappy, but this is your duty. This has always been your duty.”

“No,” your lip trembled with effort as you tried not to cry, “I won’t do it.”

“There is no won’t, you will do this,” she crossed her arms over her chest and your father remained silent. You looked between the two of them, hoping, wishing, praying, that one of them would say something else. One of them had to be on your side, right?

“And if I refuse?”

“You will not,” her glare was cold as ice as she stared you down. You swallowed thickly but willed down all the ugly, vile things you wanted to say. You’d already angered them, and you needn’t poke the bear further...you didn’t want to know what else they could be capable of, “now go. An official announcement will be made at the end of the week and then we will plan your wedding.”

“I hope you know that I hate this,” it was the only thing that came to mind, “I will never forgive you for this.”

“We have nothing to be sorry for,” your father finally chimed in as he looked down at you, “you have always known that this was your duty, and now its your turn to fulfill that duty. Now run along and learn some manners and respect.”

You offered them a mock bow before storming out of the door, without waiting for it to be opened. Tears of anger and frustration rolled down your cheeks as you tried to still your racing mind. A month, you had a month. A month to figure out how to get out of this situation once and for all. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

You watched as rain poured outside your window, tapping on it gently as you cried and cried. At some point, you weren’t sure if it was the raindrops obscuring your vision or your own tears making it cloudy. As soon as you’d stepped foot back outside that afternoon the skies had opened and rain had poured down, covering the earth as if it was weeping with you. You’d been so caught up in your sorrow, you’d forgotten about anything else - including meeting Frankie at your secret spot in the gardens. 

You clutched the small stuffed bunny in your arms as you cried and hiccuped, wishing that this would all go away. You’d had the little stuffed animal for some time, a secret little present from Frankie because he knew how much you loved the small creatures. No matter how long you’d had it, it still managed to smell of him - a sweet, saccharine smell.

A soft knock came from the windows, startling you as you wiped away your tears and started at the large window. You weren’t sure if it had been your imagination or if you’d actually heard something, but as soon as you’d seen the shadow moving about, you were sure it was someone. 

Slipping out from the soft blankets, you padded over and slowly opened the window. You immediately spied Frankie as he finally looked relieved to finally see you. 

“Princess,” he whispered as he reached out and gently touched your face, grounding him in the fact that you were okay. But his heart wrenched when he realized that your face was wet, but not from the rain, “you’re crying - what’s wrong? Y-you didn’t come to our spot.”

“I-I-I’m sorry,” you sniffled as you took his hand in yours and pulled him inside the warmth of your rooms. It was silent while you made quick of pulling off his jacket and laying it on the back of your chair. Pulling him gently, you took him towards the warm, crackling fire, flopping down on the floor next to it, “I forgot, Frankie. I…”

And then it was silent for some time. Frankie sat next to you, silent as he warmed up and wanted for you to carry on with what you had to say. After some time, he pulled you in his lap as he studied your face. He brought a hand up, slowly, delicately as he traced over your features before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“What’s happened, my sunshine?” he whispered as you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face into his shoulder. Before you could get out any proper words, you ended up crying again, tears quickly soaking through his tunic as you cried. He held you gently, rocking back and forth as he tried to get you to quiet down so you could speak to him, “shhh, my sweet love. It’s okay, it’s all okay...I’ve got you.” 

"Frankie," you finally managed to pull yourself together enough to spot the tears from spilling, "I received horrible news today...the worst thing that could possibly happen occurred today…"

"Whatever could it be?" he reached up and gently wiped away your tears from your cheeks and pushed a lock of hair behind your ear.

"I am to be married," you finally said the words out loud for the first time, shocking you both are vile they sounded, "by the end of next month. To Lord Easterly of all people."

"Oh."

“This is the worst thing to happen,” you whispered softly, “I-I don’t know what to do. Francisco, I love you - you’re the one I want to m-”

“You must marry him,” he stated; there was no emotion, no hesitation or anything. His voice was neutral - calculated to show no trace of emotion, “if your parents arranged your marriage to him, then you must marry him.”

“Frankie,” you pulled back, your face colored in hurt and shock, “I-I don’t love him, I don’t want to marry him. I love you…”

“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted, “it is your duty to marry him.”

Inside, his own heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces, mere fragments of a whole. He wanted to cry - to scream and argue and hurt everyone that had brought this upon you. But instead he just...shut down. In some ways, he’d spent the last few years preparing for this moment, knowing that eventually it would be inevitable. He was a stupid, foolish man to fall in love with you in the first place. He had no right, no reason to - he was of one world and you were of another. You could never be together. Never. And even though he’d always known that, locked away in the back of his mind, this didn’t make the crushing blow any easier. He was so in love with you, it was hard to believe that his love could ever die; sometimes it left him breathless just to think about how much he was enamored by you. 

But you could never be his. 

“Francisco,” you shook your head as you grabbed his face and turned his chocolate eyes towards you, “what on earth are you saying? I thought you...I thought you loved me? I can’t marry him, I will never be happy again if I do. It’s supposed to be you, my love. No one else.”

“Don’t be foolish,” his voice cracked as he took your hands and pulled them away, “we can never be together, we both know that. It was only a matter of time...we’ve always known it would come to this. You must do as they say.”

“I-I-I don’t understand,” you shook your head, blinking back tears as you pulled away from Frankie. He stared at the fireplace as he refused to make eye contact with you, “you want me to marry him?”

“I don’t,” he admitted quietly, “gods, of course I don’t. But there is no choice, no other way. We both know that. If I could, I would marry you right now, and take you away from this forever. But I can’t do that...we would never work. I know it’s not what you want to hear, and we’ve both been blissfully ignorant of that fact, but it was always bound to come to an end. That will never change how much I love you.”

“You want me to marry a man I do not love because I’m being told to,” you were crying now, fully bawling at blatant denial of...you, "you want me to subject myself to a life of unhappiness? You can't...you won't be able to go with me."

"You know your duty-"

"That is such shit!" you shouted at him, "you love me, right? We'll run away together - we can get married and live happily far away from here."

"And what? You'll just be found and brought back and I'll be jailed if not hanged," he threw his hands up in frustration, "or worse yet, we'll both be hanged. I can't...I can't give the life you deserve."

"We'll go far away," it was a meek protest as you contemplated dropping to your knees to beg him to stay and fight for you, "no one will know who we are. I swear it - please, Frankie. I don't want anything else but you. That's all I want - you. Just you. Please."

"I'm sorry," he stood up and crossed his arms over his chest as he deflected from the situation, "I can't do that. You have to do what you're told to do."

"So you don't love me...has this all been a lie then?"

"I do love you."

"It doesn't feel like it. Stay with me then!"

"I can't do that. You know that - we don't have a choice."

"Everything is a choice!" you shouted angrily, "everything!"

"Do you have any clue how hard this is for me too?!" you'd never heard him raise his voice this loudly before and took you aback for a moment as you pouted at him, "to see the woman I love every single day but not to be able to be with her? Having to see her in secret? I want to show the world I love you, I want everyone to know! But I can't - for your safety and mine. It pains me every day not to be able to love you as I want!"

"Then go with me," you reached for his hand but he quickly pulled out of your grasp, "we can run away together. Please don't leave me. Please."

"You know it has to be this way," his voice shook as a tear rolled down his cheek, "you know how it has to be. I will always love you. You have my heart, always and forever."

"Don't go," he started walking back to the window, refusing to look back over at you. You chased after him but he turned away, "please, Francisco. I'm begging you, I will do anything to get you to stay."

"Please don't…"

"W-we still have time," you were grasping at straws, but it was all you could think of doing, "we'll figure something out. What if I tell my parents we plan to marry? Or that I am with child?"

"They'll have me hanged before you could finish telling them and they'd force you to marry to cover up your pregnancy," you knew he was right.

"We can...we can make the most out of our time together," he turned to face you, and you met those eyes you'd fallen in love with one last time, "there is time...we can…"

"I don't think that's a good idea," he whispered softly, "we shouldn't make it harder than it already is. We can just end it now…"

"Please," you tried to grab his hand as he sidled along the ledge. Your soul felt like its light had been extinguished as he shook his head, recoiling from your touch as though it was laced with venom, "Francisco. I love you more than anything. You are my heart, my home-"

"Don't do this," his words cut like a knife at your throat as you realized he was serious. He wasn't coming back, "this ends tonight. If we keep going its only going to hurt worse. We'll cut our losses now. I love you, Princess, so damn much it takes my breath away. But this is the way."

"I love you," it was a strangled cry as you watched him go, "I will never love another. Only you."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[thatbangtanbloom]

petals | bts [1]

petals | bts

teaser | [1] (could be read without the teaser)

characters: kim namjoon, kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook, reader

pairings: ot7 x reader

categories: angst, fluff, (light???) smut

genre: idol!bts, idol!reader (fem!reader)

warnings: reader is a bit sensitive but comes out of her shell slowly,, uhh,,, grinding???, making out ;) , sad kissing????, hoseok is lowkey whipped for reader, so is jimin,,, taehyung is a little mean for like 2 sentences

a/n: this first chapter introduces the reader, j-hope, and jimin! more members will be introduced with reader next chapter :]]

❀

The seven of them may not have been bound by blood, but they were in every other way. Their interests often aligned and common actions were shared where sometimes they did not know where one began and one ended. They began their days together as they made their way to the practice room and ended it when they loaded into vans to make their way back to their shared dorm.

It wasn’t as though they had never noticed the fundamental difference between the seven of them and you. They were keenly aware of it whenever the stylist squeezes you and your other girl group members into shorts opposite to their pants or the added slits to accentuate your figure when suits were the dominant style. Yet, your performance was the tipping point.

Each of them had drawn silent as they watched you move like a siren across the stage. The male dancers seemingly falling at your feet while your white chiffon hugged your every curve, floating like water with each move to the beat. Never mind that you were in a group with seven other girls, all of their eyes could only be glued to you.

They would like to think that it were the performances that had them glued to your every move - that it wasn’t the remnants of false dreams that led them to watch you like a hawk. Almost like wolves, they would be eager to pounce at you if there was one misstep. Yet, you made none.

Hoseok was the proudest of them all. He purposely would stay up to watch you practice, giving helpful tips to evoking further emotion.. but this? Seeing you move this sexily as an enchantress almost made him feel weak in the knees.

They had attempted a lot to make you feel welcomed into their tiny home of seven. When BigHit informed them that the top trainee from Produce 101 would be joining their company left a sour taste in their mouths, but after learning it had been you who captivated millions, their worry lessened. BigHit had provided themselves on growing from the ground up - working organically to cultivate each trainee with precision, sincerity, and perseverance. Their own premonitions of how you functioned as an artist did make them question your credibility. It was only a matter of time before their watchful eyes looked after you since your pre debut days. The trainee girl division of BigHit had been long gone, but BigHit could not let go of you, not after so many monthly evaluations, tearful performances, and years going down the drain.

It was not as though you were coming into the group empty-handed. You had your own fan base from the show and project group who swore to stay by your side no matter what. Admittedly, your fan dynamic was a bit more mixed - guys eagerly flicking to see you and the other girls in school uniforms while you belted your heart out. The latest addition was the reassurance that BigHit needed to their girl group that they intended to put together.

“She doesn’t belong here.” were the first words you heard when your bags finally were placed down. It had been Taehyung who had uttered such words. You instantly find your blood run cold from the words. You could not quite understand why Taehyung was so against you. The two of you had never spoken more than three words to one another outside of promotional shoots where you were slated as an MC for the few shows variety was on.

Nevertheless, you tucked your head down and followed your other group members to the practice studio where you would dance for hours on in. You would practice until your limbs ached, taking every moment of a break as one step closer to the solace of your bed when comeback preparations were soon approaching. But every time you rested for just a moment, you could remember the echo of Kim Taehyung’s words. She doesn’t belong here.

Unbeknownst to you, not every member of BTS was antagonistic towards you. In particular, Jung Hoseok admired your tenacity more than anything. The two of you spoke in quick words, him congratulating you on your variety show appearances and complimented the way your freestyle had improved over the years. He was in complete awe of you.

“You’re here again?” His soft voice greets you at seven in the morning on the fifth-floor practice room of BigHit Entertainment. You would be embarrassed that you are currently laying on the floor looking utterly disheveled with your gray sweatpants loosely hugging your hips and the way your shirt is drenched with sweat if this were the first time.. but it had not been. He has two iced Americanos in hand and his lovely heart-shaped smile to match. “I swear.. you’re one of the hardest working people I know.”

His words lift your heart and you scramble to stand up and bow deeply to him, “Thank you, senior.” You say before bending a full ninety-degrees to show your respect.

“There’s no need for formalities… aish… are we not close?” Hoseok teases playfully as he places his keys onto the television monitor’s counter and shrugs off his jacket. He has always been one of the more friendly members of your senior group. Most likely because he catches you in the practice room four days out of the week when your leader, Roa, has not realized you snuck out of the dorms in exchange of the four walls. “You can just call me Hoseok. Or j-hope if it makes you feel better.”

You shyly rub the back of your neck, “I.. I suppose we are.” You admit sheepishly as you watch him pass you the iced americano into your hands. His hands are soft and gentle as they overlap over yours. “Congratulations on Billboard and the Grammy’s…. It must be very exciting,”

“Yah, yah, you said that yesterday.” Hoseok has always teased you as his hand raises to your head and pats it gently. In particular, Hoseok has always found your shyness cute. He thought it was sweet that despite years of being an idol, you still never lose the softer parts of yourself. “Let’s talk about you. And Reverie, huh?”

Your girl group, Reverie, had ultimately been a successful feat despite Korean netizens eager to question the validity of putting former IOI members and BigHit trainees as the first girl group the company would produce as opposed to using ‘fresh’ talent. Reading article after the article had made you insecure when they commented on your rather ‘boring’ facade compared to the other members that had charms that seemed to overflow. Were you that bad?

As though reading your thoughts, Hoseok gently clears his throat. “You should show me your dance.” He contends with a warm smile.

Despite only having these secret times in the practice room, Hoseok felt as though he could read you. He noticed your demure way of approaching things that were unfamiliar to you - the sharp contrast for when you performed on stage. If anything, he wanted to help you find the same confidence you felt on stage. He wanted you to find it with him.

“I can do that,” You say as you take another sip of your iced Americano and rush to place it in front of the mirror. You steal a peek from the corner of your eye as the older man settles into the chair and shrugs off his jacket. The other members (most likely Jimin since he tended to be as much of a practice fiend as he was) would not join for another half an hour, so Hoseok was eager to spend this time with you.

His eyes follow your every moment as he leans forward like a man entranced. He’s always admired the fluidity in your movement; the way that you texture changes without warning and how sharp each move is when it needs to be. Like water, you move as one with no disconnecting movements until you want it to be. Quite literally, he thinks your poetry in motion.

The latest comeback is equally as alluring as it is power-based. BigHit quantifying that girl groups should not be held to a double standard meant the choreography being just as difficult as your male counterparts. More than satisfactory for you, it let you feel a greater sense of accomplishment when you hear Hoseok’s claps of approval.

“You’ve improved a lot.” Hoseok remarks with a bright grin as he stands to his feet before walking over. “Though… I would say that this one move could be drawn out more. You’re focusing more on the timing rather than the execution.” He watches as your features contort at his words as you try to piece together what move in particular was he talking about. Could it had been the pas de bourrée? “Here,”

He moves closer to you with a reassuring look in his eyes as his hand rests on your shoulder and slightly presses down, “You’re supposed to have your shoulder go slack, right? You shouldn’t be so tense. Relax.” He says as his fingers trap down your arm to graze over your elbow and tuck it in more. “Your arm was taking away from the focus on your legs. You know the choreography, so why do you dance like you don’t?”

“Ouch,” You say with a forced laugh. You knew he meant well, but from to time, Hoseok did tend to critique you more like you were a member of his own group rather than a junior. Regardless, you were still thankful for his key eye for detail. You never would have deduced it was because he was looking out for you far more than just as a senior, but as something more. “You said last time you wouldn’t be so harsh,” You joke after mustering the courage after fixing your posture and your eyes reclaiming Hoseok’s.

Hoseok chuckles softly, “If I knew you couldn’t take it, I wouldn’t say it,” He remarks gently before turning on his heels beside you. “You’re practicing for the partner stage within the comeback, right? Then you should do it properly.” His voice lowers ever so slightly when he speaks, “With me.”

This hadn’t been the first time you had practiced with Hoseok. Early morning practices often consisted of him arriving at roughly the same time each day, if not earlier, with his small critique prior to him opting for a more hands-on approach. You saw it as nothing more of a senior looking after his junior, but Hoseok saw it as far more than that. How could he not when you were this cute without realizing it?

He wanted to ruin you.

Your thoughts melt away when you feel Hoseok’s hands settle onto your waist, pulling you closer to him as the two of you make eye contact. The way that he looks at you, his pupils slightly dilated with an intensity you can not quite discern, makes you let go of the breath you had not realized you were holding. How come it never felt like this when you were dancing with the actual backup dancers?

“Your leg should rest on my hip, like this,” Hoseok says as he purposely tucks his hand in the dip of your waist to press your waist against him. He’s warm to the touch, much like the sun itself and you have to bit back the blush that threatens to paint on your cheeks. “There, you’re doing good. You’ve always been good at listening.” He praises you as he guides you through the next move. Each moment you spend closer to him has you nearly buckling in the knees when his voice tickles your ear. Did he have any clue what the hell he was doing to you?

You may not have realized it, but Jimin ultimately did. The shorter man has grown familiar with the scene as he tucks his bag under his arm and lingers by the door to watch. He’s not surprised that Hoseok had shown up an hour early for practice in the wrong practice room when he leads you across the room. Jimin has to wonder if being attracted to you is infectious when it seems he is equally infatuated with you. Perhaps even more than Hoseok.

Jimin chuckles to himself as he pauses the music and leans against the door frame with an amused grin. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were star-crossed lovers.” It’s almost biting the way your face changes of recognition when your eyes meet Jimin.

You immediately pull away from Hoseok to bow deeply to Jimin out of respect, “It’s not like that. He was helping me-“

“You should let me help you too,” Jimin almost pouts as he repeats the familiar action of discarding his jacket and strolling over. “I can dance too, you know?” He teases as he notices the chuckle that Hoseok had been holding back. Both of them found you being flustered adorable, especially when this normally wasn’t like you. What happened to the alluring siren on stage? They practically craved to have you put them in their place.

Unlike Hoseok, your history with Jimin runs deeper than your ties to BigHit Entertainment. The younger man had known you at your lowest point, kissed away your tears on the night that your first group, I.O.I, had disbanded after the project’s deadline came and went.

You had never mentioned it, but you remembers the last night in the IOI dorms like it was yesterday. You had never wanted to know the pain of your group disbanding again. You had called Jimin that night because you didn’t know who else to call. Somi had been crying in the bathroom for hours, saying how it felt like SIXTEEN all over again, and you could only console your dongsaeng for so long. Kyulkyung and Nayoung already were going to be debuting in PRISTIN with eight other girls as though IOI never existed and was another project group. The time zone left you unavailable to call you parents and Jimin was all you had…

“I’m always going to be here, you know that, don’t you?” Jimin had whispered into your ears as his fingers gingerly stroked your cheek. He looks into your eyes, hoping that your words give some semblance of comfort when your heart ached to no return. How many times would it be that you had to build yourself up to be strong just for everything to fall apart outside of your control?

You sniffle when Jimin makes you look into his eyes, “I-I-I know,” You stammer out as you try to regain your control over your emotions, but it hurt. It hurt so bad that your head was pounding and it felt like you could hear the blood rushing to your ears. “It just.. I just want it to stop hurting, Jimin..” You grip the fabric of his shirt as though he were the one person in this world that piece you back to gather.

“It will take time.. but I will be here until the very end.. you hear me?” He whispers as he stares into your eyes. His soft monolids drip honey when they meet yours. “YN-ah… look at me.”

With a sniffle, you nod, “I am.. I am…” You whisper as your eyes scan his own. You never quite realized how long his eyelashes are or the way he holds the entire galaxy in his eyes up so close. You never have clung to him this much either, so it leaves you a bit breathless when Jimin says nothing for a while, just admiring you. “Jimin?”

“Mmm?” He asks as he does his best to wipe away your tears and not think about how pretty you look right now. He was here just to comfort you, but why can he not stop himself from looking at your lips? From thinking about how badly he wants to help you forget and kiss you?

“You’re pretty,” You say simply as you sniffle slightly and wipe away a stray tear with your sleeve.

“You’re prettier,” He tells you with a soft laugh as his thumb brushes against her chin. He wonders how close it would be for him to close the distance between the two of you with just a kiss.

Jimin has always complimented you, reassuring you of your every perfection, but this time he seems to mean it a little bit more as he presses you tighter against his chest to hold you close.

“Jimin…” You whimper as you hug him closer to you. “Please.. please help me forget,” you whisper softly for just the two of you to hear.

So without thinking, you cup both of his cheeks to close the distance between the two of you. Your arms snake around his shoulders to pull him closer as his arms instantly wrap around your own waist. He is warm to the touch, but fits like a perfect puzzle piece.

Jimin can not say how many times he had thought of this moment - the way you would fit around him like missing puzzle piece. The way he would kiss away every worry from your pretty little head as his hands bunch up the sweatshirt at your waist as he would kiss up your stomach before peppering kisses along your thighs. He’s dreamed of what it would feel like to finally hear your soft moans for him and him alone, but he still holds back as he lets you take the lead. Especially when you are this sensitive.

His lips are soft and pouty; they feel like the inside of a rose as his jaw slacks to let your tongue brush against his own. The taste is sweet with a bit of a tangy flavor: much like that of strawberry lemonade when each finger that presses against your side feels like keys being paid against a piano. For the first time in a while, things feel stable, sure, certain.

You’ve never wanted anything more in your life. You have no doubts as your hips grind against his own on the floor of your dormitory. His moans are soft each time your hips rhymically brush against the hardening tent within his pants. You like this reaction from him, the way his hips buckle into your own as your own teeth begin to nibble along his plump ones to elicit another mewl of pleasure from him. He feels like a dream, the way his hold on you tightens to bring you closer to him ; a sneaky hand that brushes along your hip to graze against the strap of your bra and tug it down in anticipation. You’re thankful that your door is locked in case one of your fellow members were to walk in on you grinding against your best friend after a fit of tears. God, you want him. You want him. You want him.

“YN-ah….” He groans as you begin to paper kisses along his neck. “I.. I want this… you have no idea how badly I want this… but I don’t want this if you’re just trying to forget,” He whispers as he forces you back to look at him. “Do you understand that?”

You grow silent as you watch his chest pant up and down in excitement. You know he wants it as badly as you do. You would be a fool to not see the way that he looks at you like you are the only one in the room. But you feel ashamed from how quick you are to close the gap between friends and lovers in the blink of an eye. Would crossing this boundary ruin things for you?

Jimin wonders if you remember those memories as vividly as he does. Sure, it had been a couple of years since that time, but he could not forget the way you fit perfectly around his lips. The memorable roll of your hips that nearly had him crying for him to be inside of you. He could remember all of this when you stared at your figure years later no longer as just friends, but with you as his junior and him as his senior.

Was it incomprehensible that he would wish to cross those paths again?

- - -

Don't be a silent reader! Let me know what your thoughts are! How do you feel about Taehyung not liking the reader very much? What do you think about the reader with Hoseok and Jimin? Let me know your thoughts :)

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 3

I’m really happy that this has gotten some positive feedback, this fic is like my baby. Thanks to everyone for reading!

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It had been a week since getting out of the hospital and five days since the funeral. It was an odd feeling, and it didn’t make it better that it was a closed casket funeral since they had been burned so badly. It was probably for the better, that meant that the last time I saw them they were wishing me goodnight, smiling, happy, alive. 

I wanted to try to get back to normal. Uncle Noah told me that it was too soon too. He said he wished he spent some more time at home with Stiles, but he didn’t have much of a choice being the sheriff. But life goes on, even if I wanted to go back in time if just for a moment. Maybe getting back to something I enjoyed would be helpful in coping. Moving into the Stilinski house had been only a little strange. I had spent the night here before, especially when I was younger and Stiles and I would pass out in the living room watching Power Rangers or Disney movies. The only thing that bothered me was that I wouldn’t be going home after this, I had my own room with new sheets, new clothes, and only a few things that had survived the fire. Uncle Noah had painted the walls a soft (your favorite color). 

Everything seemed to be perfect, if you could even call it that. However, along with the fact that I lost practically everything, the person who took everything from me was still out there. Michael’s apartment had been cleaned out, his family was no longer in their home, they all just vanished. 

I stared at myself in the mirror, fiddling with the locket that Stiles had given me for my sixteenth birthday. Inside was a tiny picture of us at a birthday party when we were kids, our faces painted like cats, cake around our mouths. I smiled and thought back to the hospital. 

Uncle Noah left the room after giving my statement, leaving Stiles and I in the room. 

“Just so we’re clear you do mean Derek Hale. Main suspect in the fire that killed his family Derek Hale.” He asked. 

“Stiles, even if he did do it, why would he help me get away from Michael? If he was so crazy, why would he offer to drive me away? Why would he drive me to the hospital?” I sat up in the hospital bed.

“Maybe so he could murder you himself?” He scoffed. 

“I highly doubt that.” I looked out the window. But what he said did bring up a question. Derek and I were in completely different circles in high school. He could have completely ignored me and gave me back to Michael. But he didn’t. He helped me.

 I wanted to thank Uncle Noah for taking me in, so I insisted on making dinner tonight. To be honest, home cooking probably wasn’t standard at the Stilinski house. Some sort of pasta dish would probably be good. 

After giving my appearance a final once over, I made my way downstairs. Stiles was on the couch, eating ramen noodles. 

“Hey, I’m gonna head to the store, you wanna come?” I asked. 

He looked up mid-noodle slurp, “Uh yeah, of course. You want me to drive?” 

I scoffed, “So I can feel every bump in the road?” 

“Hey, Roscoe is a smooth ride.” He defended his Jeep. 

“I think that’s an oxymoron.” I grabbed my keys from the hook by the door, “Let’s go.” I smiled. He threw out his noodle carton and slipped on his shoes. Interactions like this made everything easier. 

- 

Around nine, I was just watching videos on the computer, hoping that it would numb my brain enough to go to sleep. Dinner had been cut short because Uncle Noah got a call from someone and went out saying he would be home later. But that didn’t mean Stiles would go to bed, even if his first day of sophomore was in the morning. 

“Hold it.” I called, not looking up from the screen, his footsteps were loud enough to wake the dead. I spun around in the computer chair, folding my fingers together, “And just where do you think you’re going, Mr. Stilinski?”

He straightened out his body, “Oh, just getting a drink of water.” 

I titled my head, “Really? You’re not going to go get Scott so you can find the body in the woods?” 

He squinted, “How did you know that?” 

“You think you’re the only one who’s tapped into police radio?” 

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, “So are you gonna tell Dad?” 

“Of course not.” I hummed, “But I’m going with you.” I stood up, zipping up my jacket. The outfit had already been prepared after the police radio chatter explained that there had been a body reported in the woods. 

“(Y/N), I don’t know if that’s a good idea seeing that… you know.” 

“I’m a big girl, Stiles. I can handle it. Plus, we probably won’t even find it.” 

The whole way to Scott’s house was him essentially making me swear a vow of silence. As if he couldn’t trust me, he told me everything and I never tattled. 

At Scott’s, I waited in the car while Stiles made his way to the front door where Scott almost took Stiles out with a bat. After some convincing, Stiles and Scott made their way to the Jeep.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Scott smiled as he got in, shoving his inhaler in his pocket. The smile was a sad one, something I would have to get used to. I was the girl whose parents were killed. 

Close to the destination, Scott brought up a good question: "So which half of the body are we looking for?“ 

We both looked at Stiles who said: "Ahh, I didn’t even think about that." 

"And what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” Scott added. This made me realize that maybe coming was a mistake. Michael was still on the loose, who was to say that this wasn’t another victim. And worse, that could have been her body out in the woods, or at least half of it.

“Also something I didn’t think about." 

“Did you think about anything?” I piped in before we finally parked outside the main trails into the woods. 

-

About fifteen minutes into our hike, I stopped to make sure Scott didn’t fall too far behind. He had the worst case of asthma I had ever seen, he couldn’t walk for very long without needing his inhaler. I knew how much he wanted to play lacrosse, but I really didn’t think it was possible. 

Midthought, I was pulled down the trail with Scott by Stiles. 

“What the he-” I began, but Stiles shushed me. The sound of dogs rang out in the darkness. Without thinking, I started running with Stiles, leaving Scott behind. Our running was stopped abruptly by a dog, who barked and snarled at us from the ground. 

“Heel! Hang on, hang on.” Uncle Noah called to the officer restraining the dog, “This delinquent belongs to me. And so does this one. This I didn’t expect.” He looked from Stiles to me. I stood up, brushing the dirt off my behind. 

“I was uh…babysitting.” 

“Right. Babysitting.” He nodded along, very clearly not believing me. He looked back to Stiles, “Where’s your usual partner in crime?” 

“Who?” Stiles asked, “Scott? Scott’s home. Said he wanted a good night’s sleep for back to school tomorrow. It’s just me and (Y/N). In the woods. Alone.” I elbowed his side at his terrible lie. 

Uncle Noah brought up his flashlight, looking in the trees and called for Scott. When he got no answer, he put the light down. 

“Well, young man, I’m going to walk you back to your Jeep. You too, missy.” He wrapped an arm around both of our shoulders, “We can all have a little conversation about the invasion of privacy.” I took one last glance in the woods, hoping Scott was okay. And if Michael was the one to do this, I really hoped that Scott would be at school tomorrow. 

- 

The next day was the beginning of lacrosse season, meaning the beginning of work. Around one in the afternoon, I made up my lacrosse bag and had a quick lunch and went out to my car. I opened the driver’s side door but I paused, having an eerie feeling crawl up my spine, like I was being watched. I checked my surroundings but saw nothing. Without another thought about it, I made my way towards the high school. 

-

I made it just in time for lacrosse practice to start, Coach Finstock was on the sidelines. He had his usual look of discontent. I made my way to his side. He looked at me out of the corner of his vision, then back to the players making their way on the field. 

“Is there any way you could She’s the Man this and be on the team.” He asked. 

I held onto the strap of my bag, “That would be cheating, Coach. But I would if I could.” He patted me on the back. 

“Good to have you back, (Y/L/N).” He blew his whistle, “Alright, gather ‘round, ladies. Let’s keep this short so we can practice and maybe get something down today. This is (Y/N), my assistant coach. If I see any of you hormonal monsters so much as look at her the wrong way, I will make sure this season will be hell for you. That means you, Greenberg.” After some more instruction, he sent the boys off on their way. Stiles waved at me before starting to run laps. Since it was the first day, Coach said that just sitting in the bleachers would work for today. To be honest, it felt like he was taking it easy on me, if that were even possible for him to do. I sat up on the bleachers, watching all of the players run. I did see Scott so that meant he survived the night in the woods. 

“Hi.” A soft voice came from beside me. I looked up, seeing a brown hair girl had made her way to sit besides me. 

“Hey.” I said back, she didn’t seem familiar at all, maybe a new kid in town. 

“Come to watch your boyfriend?” She pointed to Stiles, whose legs seemed to work out of sync with his body. 

“Oh no no, that’s my friend. I’m also the assistant coach.” I held my hand out, “(Y/N).”

“Allison.” She shook my hand and looked back out at the field.

“You’re new, huh?” I asked. 

“Is it that easy to tell?” She chuckled. 

“Nah, you just didn’t look familiar. Was your last school into lacrosse too, or…?”

“Oh uh, no, I came to see him.” She vaguely pointed in the direction of Scott. 

“Scott? Yeah, he’s a nice guy.” I smiled.

“I know. He gave me a pen in class today, which was a life saver because I lost mine.”

 After a moment, a redhead I knew all too well sat down besides Allison. Not that I knew her personally, Lydia Martin was just the girl that Stiles had been in love with since… ever.

“Are you the girl whose house burned down?” She asked. Her subtlety was immaculate. Allison, looking mortified, gave me an apologetic smile. 

“Ahuh.” I shrugged, getting up from my seat, “I can’t really see the field. I’m gonna get a different angle. It was nice meeting you, Allison.” Before they could say more, I took the steps down to the grass. 

“McCall!” Coach called, “Get in goal.” 

I crossed my arms over my chest, “You think that’s gonna be a good idea? He’s never played goal before.” 

“I got a feeling.” He said, also crossing his arms and calling the players to line up and make shots at the goal. I gave Scott a quick thumbs up. Coach blew his whistle, Scott grabbed at his ears like the sound was too loud. The player sidearm shot the ball at the goal, hitting Scott in the helmet and sending him on his back. I winced, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stiles had the same reaction. This might not go well.

To my surprise, though, Scott got back up and caught the next ball that came at him. The next player to come up seemed to have an angry walk in his step.

"Who’s that?” I whispered to Coach.

“Jackson Whittemore.” He looked back, enthralled in the fact that Scott was doing well.

Jackson Whittemore was the town rich boy and did pretty well in lacrosse from what I understood. He also had a chip on his shoulder the size of Mars. He whipped the ball as fast he could, it was impressive. But it was no match for Scott’s new goalie skills.

-

After practice, Stiles, Scott, and I made our way back to the woods - this time in broad daylight- to find Scott’s inhaler that he dropped. He mentioned that while he was out, he was attacked by an animal and got bitten.

“I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. Smell things.” He explained.

“Smell things?” Stiles scrunched up his nose, “Like what?”

“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.” He motioned towards Stiles. Stiles looked skeptical but when searching his pocket did find the pack of gum.

“How many sticks left?” I asked, a little amused.

“Uhhh.” he sniffed, “Two.” I took the gum from Stiles' hand and opened it.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Two sticks.

“So this all started with a bite?” Stiles took back his gum, sticking it back in his pocket.

“Could this be some kind of infection?” Scott asked.

“I actually think I’ve heard of this. It’s a different kind of infection.” Stiles shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He gave me a side eye, I nodded.

“Are you serious?” He asked, getting more exasperated. We both nodded.

“Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.” Stiles said.

“What is that? Is it bad?” Scott asked, the panic setting in.

“The worst.” I exaggerated. 

“It’s worse about once a month.”

“Once a month?”

“On the night of the full moon.” Stiles sighed, as if this “infection” was terminal. The fact that Scott hasn’t gotten it yet just told me that he wasn’t paying attention during Monster Movie night. Stiles and I threw our heads back and howled towards the sky.

“Come on, guys, this isn’t funny!” Scott glared.

“Didn’t you tell your mom about it?” I asked, then realized how stupid of a question it was. If Ms. McCall had found out how late he was out and that he was in the woods looking for a body, he would have been grounded for sure.

“Of course not.” He shook his head. After that, the boys had walked a little bit ahead, still going on about Scott’s new super infection. I took a little more time looking in the bushes to see if Scott’s inhaler had fallen off the trail. The thing was bright red, it shouldn’t be that hard to find. While I searched, I zoned out everything else in the world. I thought about my parents. There was still so much that I didn’t know that they never got a chance to teach me. The last night they were alive, they had mentioned something offhand.

“(Y/D/N), when are we going to tell her?” Mom whispered, biting her nails. They spoke in the hallway, not realizing I could hear. Dad paused for a moment, then looked down at her.

“We’ll tell her tomorrow.”

I never found out what they were going to tell me.

The other thing that I couldn’t seem to get off my mind was Derek Hale. He practically risked his life to help me. If I saw someone with a knife like Michael was, I would like to believe that I would do what Derek did, but I couldn’t be sure. Besides that, I couldn’t get his face out of my head. It would be a lie if I didn’t think he was attractive. The way he looked at me with those dark green eyes. It made you feel a certain sort of way. 

I looked up from the bushes I was searching and realized it was way darker than it had been and that Scott and Stiles were nowhere in sight. 

“Scott? Stiles?” I called. No answer. What did answer though, was a flash of rain. 

“Great. I’m lost in the woods, where there is a dead body. And even a murderer.” I moped out loud. I found my way back to what I thought was the trail and started walking. I pulled my phone from my back pocket and saw that it was completely dead. So much for calling in a rescue. Thunder roared in the sky, making my pace faster. 

By now it was dark, just flashes of lightning making it easy for me to see where I was walking. I walked for what seemed like forever until I found a large house in the middle of the woods. The place seemed vaguely familiar. It was in disrepair and looked like no one had been there in years. For now, it would probably be better to wait out the storm and start walking when the rain ended. I pushed the door and stepped inside. It was still wet inside from the parts of the house that were missing, but in places where there was still roof, it was dry. I looked around, seeing something on the wall, partially burned. It was a triskelion with a name underneath. Hale. I was standing in the remains of the Hale house.

“What are you doing here?” A deep voice made me jump and turn around. Derek Hale stood in the doorway, a lightning flash lit up his face and for a moment his eyes looked blue before going back to their green color. 

“I’m sorry, I just got lost in the woods and then it started raining. I-I’ll leave now.” I walked towards the door to go out again but he grabbed my arm tightly. 

“Don’t go out there.” He said, looking behind him.

“Why?” I asked in a hushed voice. He looked me in the eyes, looking pretty terrifying frankly. 

“You were followed here.” He said, making my blood run cold. 

“Was it…?” I took a deep breath, “Was it Michael?” He shook his head, pulling me further into the house. 

“No, something else.” 

“Something else? What do you mean?” I asked, pulling my arm from his grip. He stopped and looked at me confused. 

“Didn’t you smell it? Hear it?” 

“Look, Derek, I know we never talked in high school and you barely know me, so I’ll just let you in on a little secret: I can’t smell when something is stalking me in the woods.” I looked over my shoulder at the door. There was a creaking sound coming from outside that was pretty consistent with walking. He glared out at the creaking, taking his jacket off. 

“Put this on.” He held it out to me. 

“Why?” I asked. Looking from the jacket to him. 

“It will put my scent on you.” 

“Your freaking what?” I raised my eyebrows at him. Maybe he was crazy. I was stuck in an abandoned house with whatever was outside with a crazy person. 

“Will you just put it on?” He barked. No need to make a crazy man mad. I took the jacket and slipped it on. Like any other jacket it smelled like leather, but this had something else, a musky smell that would be very pleasing if the situation was different. 

“Go out the back and run.” He started walking towards the door, “Now.” He didn’t need to tell me twice. I took off running as fast as I could out the back door and up the long drive way that connected the Hale property to the main road. And, like an absolute angel, Stiles appeared in his Jeep, stopping right outside the entrance to the overgrown driveway. 

“(Y/N)!” He called over the rain. I ran to the jeep, got in and slammed the door behind me. 

“Go, go go go go.” I said hastily, put on my seat belt and he took off. 

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?!” He shouted, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“I didn’t charge it before going out in the woods.” I panted, looking over my shoulder to make sure the something Derek had been talking about wasn’t behind us. 

“Whose jacket is that?” 

“Derek Hale’s.” 

“Why do you have his jacket?!” 

“Listen, I could explain right now but apparently I was being stalked back there so put this thing in gear and drive faster.”

- 

Last night after getting home, I explained to Stiles what happened. We both agreed that it did sound like Derek was a little crazy. But the fact was that something in the woods bit Scott and it was probably better that Derek had found me instead of whatever it was. 

The next morning, everything should have been a dream. The whole situation would make more sense. But Derek’s jacket was hanging on the back of her door which meant that instead of encountering Derek being a dream, it was reality. Stiles would be in school by now and Uncle Noah was definitely at work, if he even left last night to begin with. Maybe a walk would take my mind off things. I got dressed and ready and was about to walk out of my room when I caught myself grabbing Derek’s jacket to put on. This jacket wasn’t mine, I shouldn’t be wearing it. I didn’t need to have Derek’s “scent” all over me but I grabbed it anyway. There was the possibility that I would see him while I was out since I had been seeing him a hundred times more than usual. I opened the front door, seeing Derek who was just standing outside the door. 

“We need to talk.”

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Read part 4 here!

Part 3 down. And trust me, this part needed a lot of work from the “original” material. 

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[writtingfiction]

Can chrom suffer please i would love him to watch himself slowly lose robin as she spends more time with lon'qu

I'm not dead, I swear, here's your monthly content!! also forgive me for any misspelling...

pairing: Chrom x Robin

words: 2.3 k

Chrom did not realize just how much time he had spent with Robin until Lon’qu had joined the army. He did not realize just how much he enjoyed spending his free time with her. She was there, always. That was until Lon’qu had joined. It wasn’t too noticeable at first but, as the days went by, it was hard not to notice. After all, Chrom had spent most of his free time with his tactician. Chrom loved Robin with his heart and soul, he would do anything for her. Perhaps too late he thinks, seeing her laugh as Lon’qu looks away growing redder by the second.

~

The first time he takes notice is when he’s looking for Robin, something about training or battle plans, he doesn’t remember. Chrom had made his way towards the main tent, convinced that’s where she would be. To his surprise, instead Robin is chasing Lon’qu and throwing figs at him. He’s dumbfounded by the scene in front of him. He can’t help but laugh at the scene in front of him. It catches their attention, Lon’qu takes this as his chance to flee but not before he gives a quick hello before running. Robin says hello but calls after Lon’qu saying she’ll get him. A small blush makes Robin’s cheek go pink as Chrom calms from his laughter.

“Just what are you doing?” Chrom asks. Robin lets out a small laugh, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“Training.” Robin responds in full confidence, nodding once. Chrom gives her a quizzical look, but he doesn’t crack her.

“Are you sure? Poor man look liked he was running for his life.” Chrom said, coming closer to her. Now feeling the weight of the maps in his hands.

“Trust me, it’s part of training. Special training for Lon’qu only.” Robin said, looking down at her hands. “I only had five figs left too.”

“What training involves figs?” Chrom said in surprise. “Robin, I know your tactics are amazing on the battlefield but maybe we need to talk about your training regimes for others.” This pulls a laugh from her lips and it can only bring a smile to his face.

“Oh come on, my training regimes aren’t that bad. You’re just jealous I’m not throwing figs at you.” Robin says, a smirk curling on her lips. Chrom’s eyes go wide.

“No, no such thing. You’re reading the room wrong.”

“Chrom~”

“Robin, no.”

Robin’s smirk gets wider and Chrom is already turning and running. Robin is hot on his heels though. They run and one fig gets thrown towards him. He ducks his head, but the tactician has deadly aim and it hits him on the back of his hand. He cries out but keeps running. He can hear Robin laughing behind him. Chrom feels a warmth in his heart, he hopes it never goes away.

~~

The second time he notices a lack of Robin’s absence is when she is deep in different tactic books from varying time periods and regions, with someone beside her already. They’re back at the castle, in the library, and Chrom wants the company of his dear friend and the holder of his heart. He is too late though, someone is already talking to Robin, taking their time as they speak with her. Chrom pokes his head into the library. Searching a little before he sees the fur-lined coat that is unmistakably belongs to Lon’qu. He bites his tongue, preventing him from saying something foolish. Chrom wants to find Robin alone without someone talking to her, although it does seem to be harder and harder these days. He almost misses the days when the shepherds were smaller. He could spend hours with Robin without anyone interrupting them. Now, he’s lucky to even find her without someone by her side.

“Tactics and the sword? Never seen someone do both. They pick book or sword and never look back.” Lon’qu voices carries through just loud enough for him to hear.

“Then I’ll be the first to pick both.” Robin said. Chrom can’t see her face, but he can hear her smile. “I want to keep my friends safe. The citizens and so many more safe. Where my sword can’t reach, I’ll protect them with tactics.”

“Hmm.” Lon’qu nods. “You are a strange woman, but you’ve taken a worthy undertaking. Perhaps, I have to learn something from you yet.” Chrom can’t see what Robin’s face but he knows she’s at least smiling. She’s managed to pull a compliment from Lon’qu and it’s not an easy feat with his fear of women and high standard of strength.

Chrom pulls away from the library doors and leaves. He doesn’t feel, well. His stomach is twisting, and not in a good way. He feels sick almost. He thinks back to dinner if it was something he ate but, it couldn’t have been anything he ate. Chrom takes a heavy breath in as he slowly steps in the courtyard. Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t place it, but something didn’t feel right.

~~~

Third time Chrom realizes something. Robin was slipping through the cracks of his fingers. It was as if he was grabbing at sand. He wasn’t acting quick enough, but he didn’t have the time too. Or was it because he didn’t think he had the time to chase after her? His heart hurt at the thought. Everything was picking up and it wasn’t going in a nice direction either. His eldest sister is kidnapped and he’s going to war with Gangrel and Plegia once again. He fears he will become his father, but he vows to make things right. He won’t become like his father. He know he won’t, with Robin by his side-romantic or not-he won’t become his father.

“Chrom.” Robin says quietly, standing at the entrance of his tent. “Are you alright?” Chrom turns away from her. He sighs heavily.

“Emmeryn is taken. The fire emblem is in our hands, but we’re stuck. Hand over the emblem and free Emmeryn or, or…” Chrom can’t finish. His hands ball into fists, anger coursing through him. Robin is silent as she comes closer. Hand reaching out to his, unfurling them into her palms.

“We aren’t stuck. I’ll come up with a plan, we’ll get your sister back.”

Chrom believed her with his whole soul, so when things had reached it’s climax and Emmeryn sacrificed herself. He knew he shouldn’t have exploded on her. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but Gangrel’s.

“You had a plan!! You said we would get her back!” Chrom said harshly, his sadness shed for anger to appear. Robin, Robin looked small from where she stood. Small hand falling back to her side.

“I tried, we all tried our best. We did everything we could to try and prevent what happened. We couldn’t foresee what Gangrel would do.” Robin said, voice strong.

“Are you sure? What about that amnesia of yours, perhaps you’re actually a grimleal spy and this is what you wanted from the beginning?!” Chrom regretted what he said the second the words passed his lips. The visible shock turning into hurt on Robin’s face made his heart sink to the floor and he wanted to crumble on the spot. He heard her breath in sharply, eyes watering as she tried not to spill tears. Lips quivering as they stood in silence. Stunned by the prince’s hurtful words.

“Chrom…” Robin’s voice is barely above a whisper, wavering in the air. “You’re grieving, but remember that you’re not the only one.” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she spoke. Unable to hold them back anymore.

Everything that held Chrom together broke. Walls no longer standing. He feels his leg shake underneath him. He’s tired. Hot fresh tears roll down his cheeks. Chrom opens and closes his mouth multiple times before finally saying;

“I’m sorry.” He means it, with everything he has left to give. Robin’s only response is her turning around and leaving him to stand and wallow in his misery. He falls to his knees, knowing he deserves it. He loves her, she doesn’t know it, but the way he yelled at her, she doesn’t deserve that. Chrom knew that his words affected more than anyone else, he trusted her from the beginning. This was a stab to the back for poor Robin.

Chrom picked himself up hours later, searching for Robin to apologize after a couple encouraging sentences from Lissa and Frederick. Although, it was mostly scolding from his sister. Chrom spotted Robin sitting at the edge of a fire poking it lazily as a familiar silhouette stood nearby. It was Lon’qu. He knew that fluffed collar and stance anywhere. He swallowed his pride, he had to as he approached the two of them.

As he approaches, the two look at him but only Lon’qu is the one to acknowledge him. Robin looks back to the fire as the Ferox man nodded his way, but his body language went rigid.

“Robin, may I have a moment with you in private?” Chrom asked, hand gripping against Falchion out of nerves which he tried to control. There was a shared look between Robin and Lon’qu before Lon’qu made the decision to move on.

“You have me alone.” Robin said flatly, not looking up from the fire. Chrom sat on the other side of her, eyes locking on the fire instead of her. He breathed in deeply before he spoke. He had hurt her deeply after all.

“I wanted to apologize,” Chrom paused, wringing his hands together. “What I said to you was unacceptable and I regret what I've said. I’m sorry, and I'm sorry that I yelled and blamed you for what was out of your control. I’m not here forgiveness, just to apologize.” There was a heavy silence, the crack of the fire keeping them from complete silence. It felt like an eternity before she spoke up.

“You’re forgiven.” Robin’s voice was barely audible over the fire but he heard her. Locking eyes in surprise. There was a soft smile on her lips, one of forgiveness. He let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t deserve you.” Chrom said without thinking. Robin’s smile only grew wider. His heart raced in his chest. She hasn’t smiled like that in a while, or has she and it wasn’t directed towards him?

The two chat about a lighter topic but Chrom can’t help his thoughts trail off towards Lon’qu. He knew the man had grown closer with the tactician. Were Robin’s wider smiles directed to Lon’qu? What about those long nights he didn’t seem to catch her doing anymore, was Lon’qu whisking her away without him knowing? Did Lon’qu take Robin from right from under his nose?

“You’ve grown quiet, what is on your mind?” Robin said. Chrom relaxes hearing her words, not realizing how tense he was.

“You and Lon’qu, the two of you have grown quite close over the last couple of weeks.” Chrom says his words in a light hearted manner. However, what makes his gut twist is seeing her reaction. Her brown eyes are wide and there’s flash of red on her face.

“Well, of course! A tactician needs to know her soldiers in order to keep them safe!” Robin said, mind scrambling to find the proper words that wouldn’t give her away. It pulls a chuckle from Chrom, he was too late he realizes.

“Not as close as you are with Lon’qu though, probably...” Chrom’s heart sinks to his feet at her protests. She denies it like a child hanging out with their crush. He is bitter with his feelings, but she deserves to be with someone who won’t betray her. Who wouldn’t blame her for something that wasn’t her fault, someone not like him.

~~~~~

The fourth and final time, Chrom knows he’s lost her. The war is over, peace has returned and there’s a shining new addition to Robin’s finger. The ring catches his eyes when Robin and him are going over treaties with the noble's paperwork. He must have been staring at a little too hard and long for Robin notice.

“Chrom?” Her voice brings him out of his little head space as his eyes move from her hand to her face.

“A ring? Since when did you wear a ring?”

“Oh, Lon’qu proposed not too long ago. I thought Lissa told you.” Robin said sheepishly. Chrom shook his head softly.

“She did not.” Chrom said it softly, almost laced with regret. His eyes quickly move back to the ring before meeting her face again. A large smile on his face this time. “How come you didn’t tell me? I thought I was your best friend?!” Robin lets out a loud laugh.

“Well, I had a whole meticulous plan but then someone came by and ruined it...” Robin started to spin a story. The papers all forgotten about.

Chrom listens to her carefully, heart sinking as he can’t figure out when he lost her. Well, lost his chance. Perhaps it was when Lon’qu first joined them, or maybe that moment in the library. He thinks about it a little more and he lands on that moment at the fire when he had apologized. It might have been when he lost his chance. Robin swings her arms around, talking about something and he acknowledges that perhaps it was for the better that she got with Lon’qu. Doesn’t mean he wouldn’t trade spots with Lon’qu in a heartbeat, cause he would.

Chrom would give everything he had and more just to be with her, but she’s happy. He tells himself it’s all he needs, but the ache in his heart tells him otherwise. In another lifetime, we will meet again and I’ll choose you again and again.

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

Fallout of the century❤️🌒

Part 4 🥜

Read part// 1  // 2 // 3 here 

🌸🌼 Masterlist 🌸🌼

Warnings: Some smut, Angst, and fluff.

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I sat at the kitchen counter unknowingly biting my nails, a nasty habit I had when I was stressed. Harry had gone off to the doctor's office with Olivia and I had quite literally refused to go. I wanted to think about something else, quite literally anything else, but my mind seemed to be stuck on the unknowing fate of my newly rekindled relationship. 

“Hey you,” I heard from next to me, i hadn't heard or seen him come into the house, but was thankful at the sudden company.

“Tom,” I smiled as I threw my arms around him, embracing him in a much needed hug.

“You doing alright darling?” He questioned as we sat back at the counter and settled in. I didn't know what to tell him, cause i honestly didn't know how i was doing. “It's OK, to not feel alright, to not be OK,” He said while rubbing my arm. 

My phone buzzed in front of us on the counter and I immediately turned my attention to it, too scared to look at who or what it was. Worrying that my fate rests in whatever message lays on my screen.

“Go on,” Tom encouraged, nodding towards my phone. With a deep sigh I grabbed it and clicked it back to life to see a four word message on the screen.

Harry: We need to talk.

I felt my breathing hitch in my throat and suddenly lost all of my ability to breath. I clasped at my chest and let out a somber cry as I tried to let the air come back into my lungs, a wave of panic washing over me. Tom was quick to act, pulling me into his arms and holding me as tight as he could, reminding me to breathe, my gaspy breaths soon matching his own. 

“He- I- Can't,” I tried to speak, but my quiet sobs prevented any coherent sentences from forming. 

“Hey, look at me,” Tom whispered, pulling back from the tight hug he held me in. “You are OK, I'm here. You're not alone, and I won't let you be.” His words were comforting and probably exactly what I needed at that moment. My phone began to chime on the counter as a call came through. Tom was quick to pick it up. 

“Hey mate, it's me,” Tom said, as he listened to whatever was being said. Nodding his head and ‘okaying’ and ‘mhming’. “Hold on, what?” he asked about a sudden fierceness coming from him that I had never seen. “You what?” He asked again, his voice getting even louder. He walked away to the living room only a few feet away from the kitchen, out of eye shot but not earshot. 

“I swear to god Harry, you do this, it's done,” he paused as his brother was surely trying to explain whatever mad decision Tom had gotten so angry about. “Yeah, yeah. And what then genius? You think she’ll wait? This is all on you. So when i say this i mean it in the most truthful way, You do that, and i'll be the one to take her away and make sure she's alright, cause you have done nothing but crush that girl since the moment you walked into her life,” his words caught me off guard, not sure what he meant, harry's and I’s relationship had been a happy one, so I wasn't sure what he was referring to when he said Harry crushed me. “No Harry, i'm not just talking about the last year, i’m talking about since the first time you guys actually started hanging out, she went from being this energetic little spitfire, to a dispirited homebody that was always looking for your approval, and you held her to such a high standard that she never thought she was good enough,” he mumbled some more things into the phone that i couldn't quite catch “Yeah have fun with that you div,” he groaned loudly before walking into the kitchen back to me and handing me my phone. His face was mad with anger and he looked like he was ready to explode, i sat there staring at him, not sure what had just transpired. “Lets go pack you a bag Y/N,” Tom said, grabbing my hand. “I'm not letting you stay here alone tonight,” And i wasn't sure if i was so eager to respond because i thought i could use the company or because i thought Tom could. 

I had been to tom’s flat before, briefly all be it. He lived in the penthouse, and everything just seemed nicer in his place. The drive over had been silent, I wasn't sure what Harry had said on the phone or what had happened at the doctors office, and deep down I wanted to know, but I wasn't sure I could deal with the reality of it all.

“Guest room is this way,” Tom said, leading me down a hall towards some doors. He opened one of the doors and led me in. The room itself was nice, it was what you'd expect in a spare room, some impersonal wall decor and a plain bed set. I sat on the bed and dropped the small bag I had thrown some clothes in by my feet. Tom sat next to me. 

“So the baby is his, right?” I finally asked, looking over to Tom for confirmation. His face was downward looking to the floor, and he had his hands pushed together in his lap, he turned to me slightly with his lips down turned, giving me an answer. “What did he say?” I asked, feeling the tears begin to pool in my eyes.

“Y/N,” Tom sighed. “My brother is so smart, but he's also a major idiot.” He told me, making me chuckle a bit at the truth behind the statement. “I guess he has it in his mind that being a good dad means he has to know to take care of Olivia,” he looked back at me, probably to gage my reaction.

I took a deep breath and nodded, fearing if I tried to speak nothing but sobs would escape. “He also said as soon as they told them that he knew he had lost you, that this was never part of your plan, so he felt like this was the best thing, for the both of you,” I rolled my eyes and scoffed at that. I had told him that this would be it, but I hadn't expected him to just give me up so easily. The more I thought about it, the more I understood. Sure, I was his first love, and maybe I would be his greatest love, but there was no way that could trump the love he would soon develop for his unborn daughter. 

So I decided right then and there it was my turn to move on. “I understand,” was all I said. All i could say. Tom put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him as silent tears streamed down my face. This chapter of my life had come to an end and it was time to begin a new one, maybe a better one. 

The next few years were tough. I had to find out who I was, and what I actually wanted in life. I spent most of my time focusing on work and new projects I could participate in for the less fortunate, one of which had me away for almost a year. Harry had stepped up and become a dad for little Rosie Holland, who was as sweet as sugar. To everyone's surprise Olivia had left when Rosie was a year old, signing over her rights as a parent and leaving Harry to do it all himself. We had all stepped up in the ways we could, being there for the both of them. He had a great support system. Harrison and I had attempted a relationship, but quickly realized we were better friends. Life continued to go by for everyone, and any problems got left in the past.

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I stood next to the baggage claim, keeping an eye out for my bag amongst all the rest. It was late at night when the plane had landed and I had planned on calling a service to get home. I hadn’t been to my apartment in almost a year and I was worried about what I might get home to. Shortly after everything had happened with Harry and I, I had decided it was time to move on my own, giving myself space to find out who I was. 

“Peanut,” I heard from a few feet behind me, a voice I had heard so many times before. i felt my heart pang in my chest as I turned to see him standing there. A nice pair of jeans, a maroon hoodie and unruly auburn curls going in every direction on his head. 

“Harry,” I smiled, as I rushed to him. His arms instantly found home around my waist as I threw mine around his shoulders, snuggling my face into the crook of his neck, taking in the scent that I had once loved so much. “What are you doing here?” I asked as I lifted my head, not letting go of him.

“Tom told me your flight was getting in tonight, and you were just going to call a service to get home. You've been away so long, I just didn't want to wait to see you. So I figured I'd bring ya home myself,” he told me, a goofy grin on his face. I couldn't help the feeling I felt deep inside at the gesture so innocent in nature. 

“Harry,” I let my fingers brush against his cheek, his face leaning into them. “You didn't have to do that,” I whispered. 

“I had to.” He looked deep into my eyes with his chocolaty ones. “I needed to see you,” 

While I was away. Harry and I had been talking, reminiscing, old memories and talking about feelings that were still there. Occasional texts had turned into phone calls, which had turned into video calls, which had turned into sleepless nights, longing for just a simple touch. Six months of that, had us both wishing I was home, wishing we had more. Maybe it was what we needed. We had both grown up so much, over the last few years. Things were just different now.

I knew we had things we would need to figure out. We were both completely different people now. But standing there, in his arms, in the middle of an airport, I knew I was where I was supposed to be. I felt at home.

I leaned in slowly, giving him time to move away if he wanted. He didn't. My lips met his, and instantly there was a shock of electricity that ran through my body. Our lips glided together in unison like they were made for each other all this time. He broke away causing a slight whimper from me. He placed his forehead against mine as he took a deep breath. "Let's get your bag and get out of here, yeah?" He asked, before kissing the tip of my nose. Eagerly, I complied. Grabbing my bag and following him out of the airport like a lost little puppy.

The car ride back to my flat was quiet. He parked the car outside and we made our way up the stairs to the door. I fumbled with the keys trying to get the door unlocked. I could feel Harry standing behind me, not quite touching me, but close enough that the warmth of his breath was on the back of my neck. Finally after what felt like an eternity of struggling with my keys, I managed to unlock the door and open it up. The inside of the place was how I had left it all those months ago. The door clicked shut behind me and I turned to see Harry setting my bag down. 

"Rosie?" I was curious about where the little tot was Tonight.

"My mom's house," he smirked. I smiled knowing for the next few hours he had no obligations, no prior engagements to where he would need to rush away. For the next few hours he'd be mine. I took a step towards him at the same time he did. we met in the middle, our lips crashing together and our bodies forming to each other. Harry's hands traveled from the nape of my neck down to the small of my back pushing me further into him. I had my fingers tangled in his already unruly hair, pulling his face into me. His tongue grazed over my bottom lip before I opened it letting his tongue explore my mouth as our tongues clashed. His hands slipped down farther until he was cupping my ass. He swiftly lifted me, my legs going around his waist as he traveled deeper into my apartment to my small couch that sat in the living room. He laid me on the couch, him hovering over me, still kissing. Our clothes quickly were removed between heated kisses, until our naked bodies laid flush together. 

“Fuck, i missed this,” Harry mumbled into my lips as he positioned himself to enter me. He pushed in slowly, making sure I had time to readjust to him. He held one of my thighs up as he slowly thrust into me. “Harry,” I moaned out, my nails digging into his biceps as he picked up his speed. The familiarity of it all was the best thing about it. With Harry things seemed to come so naturally and with such ease. Faint profanities left his lips as he neared his high and I knew I was close. 

“Harry,” I groaned, my high quickly approaching.

“Cum with me princess,” He urged as I felt myself clench around him, the tightness in my core exploding in pure bliss, his thrusts became slower and less uniform as he too reached his high, painting my insides white. 

Our bodys were both limp as we laid on the couch catching our breath. “Your incredible peanut,” Harry whispered as he kissed below my earlobe. 

“Only with you,” I kissed the top of his head before drifting into a deep sleep, in the arms of the man I was meant to be with. 

I opened my eyes to the bright light from the window streaming in. The apartment smelled of bacon, eggs, and coffee. I sat up and watched as Harry stood behind the island cooking the bacon. “I could get used to this,” I said, startling him. 

“I thought we could talk over breakfast,” He smiled before walking towards me and leaning down pressing his lips softly to mine. “Good morning,” 

“Seems to be,” I admitted, wrapping the blanket around my still naked body as I stood up and walked to the counter, where he had put a plate for me. “Talk about what?” I asked with my mouth full of toast. 

“Us,” He said matter of fact-ly. I nearly choked on the bite in my mouth. He could see that he had caught me by surprise. “Sorry,” He chuckled. “I just, I don't have time for games. I'm ready to be with you 100% if that's what you want. But I don't have time to run around.” He explained.

I looked at him, the same boy that I had been in love with for so many years. The same one that I would probably be in love with for the rest of my life. I had let him go not once, but twice and somehow each time he came back.

“If you love something, let it go, if it's meant to be, it'll come back,” I mumbled to myself, realizing how real the saying had turned out to be for us.

“What?” He asked. 

“I love you. I'm in love with you,” I blurted, this time catching him off guard. 

“You are? You do?” 

I closed the space between us, letting my lips meet his before whispering. “Always have, always will,”

[bluehairedtracii]

Hooks and Coins|| Harry Hook x Reader Soulmate AU!

Requested: by @lemonypink

Warnings: Harry being cute 

Pairings: Harry Hook x Swann-Turner! Reader

Author's note: Oh my gosh this took so long! I’m literally so sorry! My motivation for writing has been a little iffy lately. Buuutt I’ve also been binging Criminal Minds soo it kinda gave me a creative push to start writing again. (Spencer Reid fics comin in the future) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this fic as I get back into writing again. 

P.S. Melody is Melody from the second little mermaid movie, and I know she's kinda not mentioned again in the fic but just know that this is y/n’s best friend and that’s who she is lmao.  I also thought the Coin would fit well in here because of the movies just sshhhh. Enjoy!!!!

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"it's soon! I swear!" The night of your 16th birthday, the day your life would change.

The day you get your soulmate tattoo.

"Are you sure??" Melody whines. "I'm positive! Look, it's not even 12:00 on the dot yet- ONE MORE MINUTE!" You look back from the phone on your lap to your right wrist.

"It's twellveeee." Melody cooed.

"Please please please..." You muttered still hopeful.

Then it hit, well stung. "Ow, ow, I feel it!"

"Let me see!" Melody basically climbed on top of you and saw it before you could. She gasped "oh my gosh y/n..." "What? What is it?" You tried to pull back your wrist to see, but Melody kept it steady.

"Y/n, as your best friend, I have to warn you as to what you're about to see...."

"C'mon Mells, it can be that bad." You sighed and tried to pull away from her. 

"You have to PROMISE Me that you won't freak out?"

Annoyed, you sighed and smiled "I promise." "Okay.." she released your hand. You rubbed your wrist and looked at the small tattoo, "A Hook?" "Not just any hook... Penny told me about this." "This is the same hook as the famous Captain Hook himself! It must be his son!"

"Captain? So my soulmate is a Pirate? Like Dad and Mom?" Melody nods almost worried.

"Awesome."

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"It's late Harry, your sister is gonna kill us if we get caught and wake your dad." Gill rubbed his eyes as he walked towards the galley of the ship.

"I know, but this is where the best lighting is...in a few minutes, I'll get me soulmate...well uh, tattoo I mean." He whispered and unlocked the door, cursing at the squeaky floors.

Harry turned on the lamp nestled on his father's desk. The room lit up illuminating the maps that his father and oldest sister had drawn up while sailing the open seas. He dreamed of nothing more than doing that, sailing and hailing a crew of his own, but for now, he follows Uma’s orders. 

“One more minute Harry.” Gill whispered looking at the tickless clock on the desk.

“Aye, ow! fff-!” Harry cupped his hand and flipped it to see his wrist, he bit back the pain as he saw the black ink form on his wrist. He’d been confused and tried to make it out as it formed. “Bloody hell, this sure is detailed in’it?” Gill loomed over Harry's shoulder, wondering what it was himself, Gill was sure he wasn't ready for his soulmate yet if he had to endure this much pain. 

Harry closed his eyes and exhaled as the pain stopped.

He opened his eyes to see the grim Aztec Coin staring back at him.

“Holy shi-” “Gil do you know what this means?!” “She’s spooky?” “No GIl, you git, She’s a pirate! and she’s a Turner...” He says in awe as he smiles down at his wrist.

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A few months later both of you seemed to forget. The events of your daily lives getting in the way. You’re training to go off on a sailing trip with your dad for a few months, and Harry is… currently Helping Uma get revenge on Mal by kidnapping Ben. 

But.. you were unaware of this. Obviously. 

Lonnie and you were fencing/sword fighting in the school’s courtyard (for fun) when you saw the boys rushing into the limo. You both caught up to them and questioned them immediately. 

“What’s going on here Jay?” Lonnie snickered full well knowing what’s happening because she overheard it earlier passing their room. “We.. uh..” “we’re going with you..” Lonnie cut the pair off. And this is how you went to the Isle of the Lost for the first time. 

They had told you the plan but left out the part about who they were going to have to deal with if the plan went south. You were nowhere near nervous. All those times you’d trained with Lonnie and your parents at the shop basically were all for this moment. Your pirate self was ready. 

Mal handed over the wand and you cringed a bit. “She’s gonna know it's fake…” you turned to Lonnie and whispered. “Shh I know, get ready..”  you prepped your sword and placed one hand on your lapel while the other was free to toss the swords. 

That’s when everything went south. You and Lonnie sprung into action and helped the others. The sounds of metal clashing mixed with the creaking of the ship and the salty sea air made you happy, it filled you with adrenaline. It felt like you were at home.

2 people fighting you at once, then three, then none, one by one you tossed them overboard.

You were caught in the crossfire between Carlos and some other goons so you ducked under them and sprung onto your feet right into someone else's back. 

You both turned to each other, swords ready, you saw him and you felt that burning in your body. The one that your friends always said happened when you met your soulmate… “Ow!” “Oi!!” Harry lurched back and held his hand. And so did you. 

“You…” he pointed at you “are you…?” you held up your hand and showed your tattoo. He gasped and smiled “I knew I’d see you one day..”  you said in awe. You heard Uma yell for Harry and his smile faltered into a smirk.

“Sorry lass, no ‘ard feelings right?” “Obviously.” You struck your sword first and your swords clashed with each other. “I knew you were good Turner, but not this good.” he laughed as you both turned a corner of the ship. “Thanks! Maybe I can teach you sometime Hook, You seem a bit rusty!” “Oi! My ‘eart Lass.. that one hurt!” 

You snickered and he had caught you by a wood post “awe, our first dance is over now?” your eyes sparkled. He smirked ”Aye if this were different, i’d very much like to get to know you lassy…”  he got closer almost closing the gap in between you two. And his lips brushed yours before you heard Mal and Lonnie yell that it’s time to go. You smiled “sorry Luv, it’s time for me to go!” you kiss his cheek and push him away into a hole that’s in the ship. “Oi! That’s not fair!”

You were the last one to leave and thought of an idea, you caught up with them and helped Mal to kick off the ramp back to the car. “Find me!” You blew a kiss to Harry and smiled, and so did he. on the inside, of course, he had to be “mad” for Uma’s sake. But right now he was anything but. He just met his Soulmate and she was everything he dreamed of.

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Almost a year had passed when you had first met Harry. And you constantly think about him every day and so does he. 

He sat at the bow of the ship looking out to the ocean thinking about you. It’s all that he’s been thinking about actually. He’s waiting for the day you can be with each other and in each other's arms. You literally took his breath away, because you kicked him, but he was entranced by your skills and beauty. He dreams about learning with you, meeting your folks, owning a ship, and most importantly.. Sailing away with you to see the world. He was stuck here. 

Though he didn't know that you had convinced Ben (it took a lot of convincing) to let Harry over onto the isle for a while. Your boating trip with your dad had gone so well that you also convinced your dad to let you go alone this time. Your parents knew how a forbidden love felt more than anyone else. The love between the two of them, a humble blacksmith that was the son of a pirate and the daughter of a wealthy governor who found that boy so long ago. They were never supposed to be together in society's standards, but their love was the strongest bond. They granted their blessing to you, they knew you'd be safe. You’re a strong pirate and they want to see you the happiest you can be.

You smiled and looked out the window of the limo as it crossed the bridge. Mal and Evie both came with you so they could help you find him and tell him the news. You guys slip onto the docks while Mal and Evie keep guard on the limo and watch you just in case you need back up. “Ursulas…” you smile and cross through the swinging doors, you found him and you felt the burning feeling in your body again. So did he. “OI!” he dropped the basket of chips he was holding and growled at the mess he made. He was fuming until he locked eyes with you. “My princess has come back to me?” he smiled and walked towards you completely forgetting about the fries as he kicked them to the side. “Hey Hook.” you smiled and felt his hand on your face but he backed away. “Woah Turner you ain't gonna kick me ‘gain right?” “no.” you laughed and you both hugged each other. 

He took the two of you outside “what are ye doin here luv? I mean, you don’ ‘ave to make any excuses to see me, but you came all the way from the other side.” he laughed and pushed back a strand of stray hair behind your ear. You blushed and held one of his hands, but unknowingly played with one of the rings on said hand. He bit his lip smiling at your nervousness. “U-Uhm.” you were surprised by the nerves in your voice, you were never this nervous before. This boy is going to wreck you. “It took major convincing, but I finally convinced my family and Ben to let you come to Auradon with me for a three-month sailing trip…” you smiled and looked at him. His eyes lit up and he lifted you off the ground and spun you around. “Are ye serious?! Of course I'd go with you!”  “Great! We leave…” you check your watch on your left arm. “ In 30 minutes!” “Aye! I need to pack!”  you laughed.

 he backed you into the wall. You smirked, “oi, I've been trying to do this ever since the first time we met.” He closed the gap between you two and the feeling of his soft pillowy lips on yours brought you comfort and warmness. You kissed back and ran your fingers through his dark locks as he tightened his grip around your waist. You never wanted this to end. “25 minutes!” You heard the girls yell and you pulled away and laughed. “I've finally found my Turner..” “And I’ve finally found my Hook..”

[rachelsteapot]

Rescued: Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader Pt. 2

Here’s part 2 for all you lovely people :) Read part one Here 

Just to let you all know, I am aiming to post twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, but I am currently on Easter break so when I return to 6th Form, that may change. I aim to post at least once a week during term time, but that is to be comfirmed. 

Thank you so so much for all the love and support that you have shown me for Rescued. I really wasn’t expecting this much love. You’re all wonderful!

Warnings: None 

Tags: @bat-luna-cat , @nothingleftthaticando

That evening, Tommy Shelby returned to Battersea cats and dogs home. 

He pushed the front door open and entered the foyer, where he had stood mere hours before. No one was there so he sat in one of the slightly battered looking seats and let himself relax. Today had been long, but by his standards, not overly eventful. He wanted to see his new dog, but also this girl that had caught his eye. 

Y/N, on the other hand, was shitting herself. 

The Thomas Shelby was here to collect a dog, one of her dogs, and she hadn’t made any considerations. If she’d have known, she would have had all the dogs lined up and ready. 

But she hadn’t. 

And all that was left to do was pray. 

Finally, she hauled herself from her self pity and appeared behind the desk to see the famous Mr Thomas Shelby light a cigarette. His stunning blue eyes met Y/N’s and her heart thudded in her throat. 

“Please follow me, Bruce is waiting for you,” Y/N gulped, watching Tommy’s coat sweep as he stood. 

Tommy watched as this girl, this woman, gracefully walked across the foyer, opening a different door to earlier. Upon entering, he found her crouched next to Bruce, stroking him gently and whispering. Finally she stood, taking a second to wipe tears from her eyes before she turned to him.

"I hope you love Bruce just as much as I do. He's been at Battersea for a couple of years now and, honestly, he's the best dog ever. I swear, he's got to be part human, he always knows how to comfort you," Almost as if to prove it, Bruce pushed his head into Y/N's hand and whimpered gently. 

Tommy felt his heart melt a little more for this woman. It was clear that this dog meant a lot to her. And for a moment, his heart ruled his head.

"You could always come with us." 

Y/N shot Tommy a confused look. This was not the Tommy she had heard about, and she was not about to become part of some cruel game.

"What do you mean, come with you? You're adopting a dog, not asking to marry me. At least ask me out to dinner first," Y/N blurted before she could stop herself. 

Tommy's eyebrow raised, but so did the corners of his lips. Then, followed a short chuckle.

"The Ritz, 8 PM tonight. Buy yourself a dress, I left an envelope in the donations box." 

"But the Ritz doesn't take dogs-" 

"They will if it's mine, come on Bruce," and with that, Tommy turned and strode out of the kennel. Y/N hurried after him with the bag of dog food, and found the Shelby brother stood next to a very expensive looking Bentley. Bruce followed obligingly and began sniffing at the wheels of Tommy's car while the two humans loaded his things. 

Once the car was loaded, Tommy hoisted Bruce into the passenger seat and shut the door, before settling himself in the drivers side. He turned, leaning out of the window and met Y/N's gaze once again. 

"The Ritz, 8 PM, don't be late," and with that, Mr Shelby and his new companion trundled away down the street. Y/N stood there, dazed, desperately trying to process what had happened. Then, she remembered the envelope. Y/N dashed inside and opened up the donations box, removing a pale envelope with her name printed neatly on it, and opening it. Inside was a wad of cash, easily amounting to near £100, although she didn’t care to count it before she stuffed it into her pocket. 

The next thing that Y/N’s whizzing brain realised, was that she would need to finish work early today, meaning that she would need to confront her mean, and rather sleazy manager, Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was a middle aged man who tried to cover his rapidly receding hairline with a badly matched toupee. He seemed to have no inhibitions, and where his hands didn’t wander, his eyes definitely did. 

Gulping down bile, Y/N approached his office and knocked on the door. She heard a croak from within and opened the door, stepping into the shroud of cigarette smoke. 

“Mr. Smith, it’s Y/N. I’m just letting you know that Bruce has been paid for and collected, and the money is in the strong box under the main desk.” When she heard a grunt of approval, Y/N continued. “Also, Sir, I hope it’s not too much trouble, but I was wondering if Margerie and Alan could close up tonight without me? I have been having a few women’s issues and I feel I would be of more use tomorrow if I could have a few hours off tonight.” 

Upon the mention of women’s issues, Mr. Smith began to cough and splutter, nodding and waving his hand through the shroud of smoke. 

“Yes, leave, just know it will be deducted from your pay for this week!”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She thanked Mr. Smith, and dashed from his office, wishing a brief goodbye to her co-workers as she went. 

Then, she was running towards the shopping district, once again praying to whatever god may be listening, but this time, in the hope that the shops were still open. 

Finally, it was 8 PM. Tommy had arrived at the Ritz not long before eight, and had settled himself and Bruce into a private room. He had ignored the protests of the concierge in regards to Bruce’s presence, and was adamant that it would stay this way. Now, all that was left to do, was wait. 

When Y/N finally arrived, she was escorted into the room by a smartly dressed waiter. Tommy had stood from his seat to politely welcome his quest, but when he saw her, his world flipped. 

Y/N was wearing a well fitted silver full length evening gown. It had small straps that fed into a plunging back, which Tommy had glimpsed as Y/N had turned to thank her escort. Gone was the ragged, almost street urchin looking girl, and instead in her place stood a young woman who could easily have been mistaken for the daughter of a lord. Y/N held herself differently too. Her posture was relaxed yet elegant, and her hands rested in her lap, holding a small silver bag. 

"Mr. Shelby? Is everything okay?" Y/N's query roused Tommy from his unsaintly thoughts as he cleared his throat and met his guest's eyes. 

"Yes, please, please sit." He directed, pulling out the chair opposite his for Y/N to sit on. She gracefully sat in the chair, stroking Bruce gently who had laid his head on her lap. 

"So, Mr. Shelby," 

"Tommy, call me Tommy."

Y/N gulped, "Tommy, why did you ask me here?"

"Because, Y/N, you intrigue me. I don’t often get to talk to people like you.” Tommy’s voice was calm and measured, a drastic contrast to the storm that was raging in his head. He picked up his glass and took a sip, watching the woman opposite him intently. 

“Shall we order some food? I expect you’re hungry.” 

The rest of the evening passed slowly, time running like honey. Y/N slowly allowed herself to relax, enjoying the company of a man for the first time in what felt like forever. And he was attractive too. 

Towards 10 PM, Tommy moved from the seat opposite Y/N to the seat beside her, their conversation flowing like the alcohol from their glasses.

“Y/N,” Tommy started after a prolonged period of comfortable silence. “How would you feel about coming back to Birmingham with me?”

Y/N was shocked. She had known this man less than twenty four hours and he was already suggesting she uproot her life and move halfway across the country to a completely different city. 

“I don’t know if I can, Mr. Shelby- Tommy. The dogs are all here, and so is my job, and my friends. I can’t just leave,” Y/N felt Tommy deflate slightly, only microscopically, but it was enough. 

Silence shattered the room. It wasn’t warm and comfortable, but cold, aggressive, heart breaking. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. Thank you for a lovely meal, I hope I may get to see you again. Please take good care of Bruce.” 

Y/N stood and turned, only to feel her hand catch on something warm and firm. 

Tommy felt his heart break as Y/N rejected his offer. This woman was like nothing he had ever encountered. She was intelligent, quick witted, able to drink just as much as he was, and stunningly beautiful. He was not going to let her get away that easily. 

So, Tommy reached out and grabbed her hand as she attempted to leave. He spun her around and pulled the young woman flush against him. 

“I can’t let you go just like that. Y/N, you intrigue me. You more than intrigue me. Please, come back to Birmingham for a day. We can see how it goes. I’ll get you a job at my company, you can meet my family, and then you can decide if you want in or out of my life. Please, Y/N. Please.”

Y/N felt Tommy’s hot breath on her neck, warming her heart. She could feel his body through his shirt, she felt the way that they fit. No one had ever felt so right. So she swallowed her pride and ignored the voice of reason. 

She was going back to Birmingham with Tommy, and that was final.