#i apologise but also? this leaves room for so many directions to take this in lmao

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.

an engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. what could go wrong?

pairing - childhood bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. cheating. alcohol mention. so much angst… i’d apologise but i’m not sorry.

word count - 3.7k

author’s note - get it? like, something borrowed, something blue… because it’s a wedding… I was half asleep when that popped into my head and I thought it was perfect, personally. I don’t condone cheating irl, but also… it’s your life, do what you want ;)

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! so, if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

The moonlight shines down, glinting off the diamond ring settled on your left hand.

Everyone's dancing, singing, laughing, enjoying each other's company in a rare moment of complete happiness. People keep grabbing you, hugging you, reaching for you to offer their congratulations.

Isn't it just so wonderful? Two people completely in love. Ah, to be young again.

The fairy lights twinkle where they're hung across the garden, acres of grass just begging to be decorated. You'd initially protested this venue - a huge country house in the middle of nowhere, with countless rooms and a huge courtyard.

It's just our engagement party, not our wedding. We don't have to be so extravagant.

This isn't extravagant - not for my family, anyway. Just say yes. I'll plan the entire thing, you don't have to worry.

And so you did. Say yes. To his proposal, the venue, anything he suggests. You can't find it in you to say no, to argue, to fight for what you really want. It isn't worth it.

"There you are, my soon to be wife!"

You take a deep breath, pretending the sound of his voice doesn't make you feel sick.

"My soon to be husband."

He can't see the grimace on your face, even though it's there, loud and clear. He can't read you, has never been able to.

"A car has just pulled up. You expecting anyone else?"

You are, but you won't let yourself get your hopes up. So you lie.

"Don't think so."

"Okay, well... you'll save me a dance, won't you? My mom wants to take some pictures."

You nod reluctantly, patting his arm with as much affection as you can muster.

"I think your brother is calling you."

You direct his attention to where his frat boy siblings are, hollering and yelling for him to come over.

"My guys!"

He departs as quickly as he came, leaving a wave of too strong cologne in his wake.

You take a walk from the garden to the front of the house, curiosity peaked. You scan the parking lot, and your heart stops when you spot the car in the corner.

A burgundy 1983 BMW 733i.

He's here.

You spin on your heel, searching almost frantically, when you hear someone clear their throat. You turn around, and there he is.

Leaning against a pillar, stood in a dress shirt and tailored trousers, hair perfectly styled.

Steve Harrington.

You're half convinced you're dreaming. The world moves around you in a daze, crickets chirping and wind blowing gently. You lock eyes with him, and can't fight the grin that spreads across your face.

“Don’t fret, baby. The life of the party has arrived.”

You scoff but almost run towards him, tripping over in your heels. He meets you halfway, arms snaking around your waist to keep you steady as you wrap yourself around him.

He smells the same. Cologne, spearmint, a faint note of diesel from the car. He smells like home.

Past home, you remind yourself. Not anymore. You have a new home now, with a soon to be husband that doesn’t understand you and a soon to be family that is built on morally questionable money and fake niceties. Steve’s a person of your past, a distant memory, a fading dream.

Except he’s stood right in front of you.

He's staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place. You’ve never seen it before.

"I didn't think you'd come," you whisper, begging yourself to pull away from his embrace. He doesn't let you go far, keeping his arms around your back as if he's worried you'll bolt at any given moment.

"And miss my best friends engagement party? Never."

"Best friends. We're not five anymore, Steve."

You roll your eyes, punching his arm lightly.

"What, I can't call you my best friend anymore?"

He picks you up, spinning you across the gravel of the parking lot. You're dizzy with it, the world passing by you in streaks of shapes and colours.

"Steve!"

"What?" he laughs. "You don't like this, best friend? What's the problem, best friend? Are you dizzy, best friend?"

"Put me down!"

Steve throws you over his shoulder as you both spin, strong hands preventing you from falling.

"Put me down, Steve, please - okay, okay! You're my best friend! Call me best friend all you want, please!"

Steve's crying with laughter, out of breath and rosy cheeked. He places you back on the ground, smoothing your hair down with rough palms.

You inhale carefully, grabbing onto his biceps as an anchor as you gauge your bearings. You look up at him, and lose your breath all over again.

Chest heaving, tongue darting over his bottom lip, hair mussed but still perfectly styled. He looks a picture, an ancient painting, a statue carved from the finest marble.

"I never want you to stop calling me your best friend," you whisper, so quietly that the breeze takes it.

"Then I won't."

Your hand slips down Steve's arm and into his, fingers linking gently.

"I missed you."

"I missed you so much, Birdy. You have no idea."

The childhood nickname shoots a lightning bolt through your heart, shiver running up your back involuntarily.

The two of you would sit and watch cartoons for hours on the floor of Steve's living room, pressing your little heads together to see the TV better. He'd joke that you sounded like Tweety Bird, all sweet and lispy. The nickname was born that day, and stuck ever since.

"How was California?"

"So good. I'll tell you all about it later. How's your engagement party?"

"It's good."

You try to sound convincing but your voice cracks, giving you away instantly. Busted.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. There's a few people you know back there - from school, the neighbourhood, family. They'll all wanna see you."

"I'll socialise later. Wanna talk to you first."

The intensity in his voice makes you nervous. You realise you're still holding his hand, so you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You didn't RSVP."

"Didn't get your invite. Travelling."

"I called your mom. She said she'd tell you."

"She didn't."

"She told me she did."

The crickets continue to chirp, gentle breeze blowing your hair into your face. You look at Steve pointedly, unwilling to be the first to break.

"What are you doing here, Steve?"

"It's your engagement party."

"So you've said."

"I haven't seen you in months."

"I tried to call, but you stopped answering."

"Birdy-"

"I'm just saying, Steve. We haven't spoken in months, I feel like you've been point blank ignoring me, I've had to come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn't be at this party or the wedding and then all of a sudden you just show up? Unannounced?"

"I know how this looks."

"Do you?"

You're not entirely sure where all of this anger has come from, but you can't seem to tamp it down. It's bubbling, simmering, threatening to spill over the surface dramatically any second.

"I wasn't sure I could do this. Any of it."

"Do what?"

"Stand by and watch you make a mistake."

You scoff, laughing at him in disbelief. He's never been one to sugarcoat things, and usually, it's one of your favourite things about him. But not today.

"Don't you fucking dare, Steve."

"Birdy, be real. The guy is a prick. And you want to marry him? You're a smart girl, the smartest person I know. You've got to see that none of this makes any sense."

"So you showed up here to yell at me? Criticise my life choices? Thanks, Steve. Thanks a million. Some best friend, huh?"

"I've done nothing but support you."

"You ran away! Across the country! How is that support?"

"Fine, maybe I can't support straight up stupidity!"

"Am I smart or am I stupid? Which one is it?"

Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair as he watches you pace the gravel in front of him. You're vibrating with fury now. It's something he's seen before. Something he knows how to navigate better than anyone. He knows you. He knows you need an outlet here.

He also knows that you're never more hyperaware than when you're mad. So, he takes his opportunity.

"I came here to tell you not to marry him."

You stop dead in your tracks, shaking your head in denial.

"...Why, Steve? Why would you say that?"

"You know why."

"No."

You take a deep breath and will yourself not to cry. In the garden, you can hear people laughing, singing along to some 70s pop song you've never liked. You pray silently that no one comes looking for you.

You take a step closer to Steve, standing up straight.

"Say it."

He looks at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden defiance.

"Say it, Steve. If you came all this way to say it, then fucking say it."

Steve steps into you, closing down the space. You don't move, determined not to back down.

"You're going to hate me if I say it, Birdy."

"I don't give a fuck anymore. Say. It."

Steve runs his tongue over his bottom lip, never once breaking eye contact with you. The silence seems to stretch on infinitely, thick and blanketing like fresh snow falling.

"I'm in love with you."

You feel like you've been punched in the gut. You take a deep breath and try to stay on two feet, wobbling where you stand. Finally, you find your voice.

"Fuck you, Steve Harrington. Fuck. You."

He laughs, but there's no humour in it.

"Yeah."

"How dare you? How dare you come to my engagement party and start confessing your feelings? You could have told me anytime, but you chose today?"

He goes to interrupt but you hold a finger up, effectively shutting him up.

"How long, huh? How long have you been in love with me?"

Steve's trembling, chest stuttering with the force of his confession.

"For as long as I can remember."

You haven't looked away from him once. You're frozen in place, suspended in the moment.

"No you haven't."

"You're gonna tell me how I feel now, Birdy?"

"Yeah, Steve, I am. Because I don't believe you. You're King Steve, ladies man, notorious player. You were never seen with the same girl twice in high school. Don't you remember? Sneaking into my room at night, whispering under my blankets about your latest hookup, telling me all the dirty details?"

"I remember," he whispers, voice laced with something like sadness. "Of course I remember."

"You don't get to tell me this now. It's not fair, Steve."

"Why not, huh?"

"Because I've always been in love with you! Always."

Steve stumbles backwards, dizzy and disorientated.

"No you haven't."

"You're gonna tell me how I feel now?" you laugh in disbelief. "I've always been in love with you. Everyone knows it. My parents, your parents, all of our friends... I think the goddamn mailman knew, Steve!"

"I didn't."

"Blissful ignorance," you chuckle humourlessly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew it wouldn't change anything."

Steve's eyes go wide as he keels over, as if the wind has been knocked out of him.

"Wouldn't change anything? Birdy, it... I-I can assure you it... It would have changed everything."

You both look at each other, breathless and riddled with confusion. There's something flowing through your veins, something unintelligible, something unrecognisable.

"Why would you do this today?" you choke out, sobs threatening to break free. "Of all the days, Steve."

"Because I'm going insane!" he yells, voice raising. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't function knowing that you're going to marry a man you don't love. It's ruining my life, Birdy!"

"You don't think it's ruining mine? Huh?"

You take a breath, very aware that if you shout anymore, multiple people are going to come running from the garden.

"This is selfish, Steve. And you're not selfish."

He looks down at you, bottom lip wobbling.

"I am when it comes to you. Always have been."

"You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."

You choke out the words before bursting into tears, sobs wracking your frame. Steve grabs your hand and guides you to the stone steps, sitting you down next to him. Against better judgment, he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

He smells so familiar, so comforting, that it only makes you cry harder. You bury your face in his chest, fingers tangled into his dress shirt, holding on for dear life.

"I'm sorry," he's mumbling. "I'm so fucking sorry. I had to. I really had to."

"I know," you're muttering back. "I know you did. I know."

You lift your head to look at him only to find he's crying too, years of emotion dripping down his face. You wipe his tears with your thumbs, your heart shattering at the sight in front of you.

Steve's only made you cry once before. In ninth grade, you'd stupidly assumed that the two of you would go to the prom together. Steve had made a joking comment about always being your date, and you hadn't questioned it. Then, one Friday night, he'd snuck into your room to tell you excitedly that he'd asked Lizzy Buchanan to the dance, and she'd said yes. You'd burst into tears immediately, much to your teenage embarrassment, willing yourself to play your cards closer to your chest. Steve had crumbled instantly, crying because you were.

That's how it's always been. He cries, you cry. You cry, he cries. He's just not usually the cause of the tears.

"I'm sorry, Birdy," he chokes. "This was the only way."

"I know," you soothe, rubbing circles into his wet cheeks with your fingers. "I know. You're not the villain here, Steve. You never were."

His eyes are trained to yours, silent communication passing back and forth. The two of you have always had the ability to practically read each other's minds.

You're not sure who moves first - perhaps it's the universe, pulling you together by the strings woven into your chests - but suddenly your lips are melded together, moving as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Steve's clinging to you as if you're his life source, a man in the desert without water.

You tangle your fingers into his hair to tug him impossibly closer, eyes fluttering when he groans, deep and visceral. He spreads his legs and pulls you between them, both of you slotting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Your tears are dancing onto each other's cheeks, mixing like rain water and gasoline.

Suddenly, you yank yourself from his grip, standing up and smoothing down your silky dress. Steve prepares himself for the yelling, the screaming, a slap that he most definitely deserves.

Instead, he's met with you, chest heaving, skin warm, eyes heavy. You're looking at him expectantly.

"Come with me," you croak, voice hoarse and untrustworthy.

You grab his hand and slink through the front door, up the grand staircase and into a room with a heavy oak door. He follows you obediently, confused but completely trusting.

It's your hotel room. A marriage suite. A spacious, windowed room, with makeup scattered across the vanity and suitcases half unpacked on the floor. The bed is still made, which makes Steve breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn't had you here. The room isn't marred.

The minute you shut the door you're back on Steve, shoving him up against the hard wood. He grabs handfuls of your ass and spins you around, backing you into the cold surface behind you for stability. He lifts you easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he kisses you again.

Steve trails his lips down your neck as you rock your hips, desperate to find some friction. You whine gently, fingers tugging at his hair a little rougher than intended to get your message across.

"What do you need, honey?" he murmurs, afraid to disrupt the atmosphere.

"You."

Steve throws his head back as he groans, exposing his throat to you. You waste no time in nipping up the expanse of it, sinking your teeth in with no regard for the consequences. You're too far gone now, not worried about looking back.

Walking backwards, Steve tosses you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce off of it. He unbuttons and strips his shirt, pulling his belt from the loops as he goes. You can only lie there and watch, wondering when your best friend became less of a boy and more of a man. He's all corded muscle and tanned skin, freckled and perfect.

Steve crawls between your legs, kissing you tenderly.

"Wanna take my time with you," he murmurs between kisses. "Can't right now. Will, though. Promise."

You feel as if there's electricity crackling across your skin, pulsing and alive. It's never felt like this with anyone. It never will again.

"Promise?"

You can't help the slight insecurity that colours your voice, young and unsure.

"I promise, Birdy. Cross my heart."

He takes your hand in his and places it over his chest, as if to solidify his point.

You nod and kiss him again, desperate to have every inch of his skin on yours.

Steve shimmies your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him somewhere. Shucking his trousers off, he pushes your dress up and around your waist, groaning when he gets a good look at you.

"Prettiest girl in the world. He doesn't deserve you. Never did."

"And you do?"

"I'll spend every day for the rest of time proving that I do."

With that he's pushing into you, sliding home with one smooth thrust. Both of you gasp, grabbing onto the other person to use them as an anchor.

"Please, Steve," you're whispering. "Give me everything. I want it all."

"You've got no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

"I do," you laugh, "I do. Because I've been waiting just as long."

Steve chuckles and leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to memorise the way you taste. There's remnants of champagne on your lips, along with the minty lip gloss you've loved for as long as he can remember.

He wastes no time setting a steady rhythm, thrusts deep and measured. You rake your nails down his back, clawing at this skin, praying silently that you leave your mark. Little do you know, you staked your claim on him a long, long time ago.

"S'good, Stevie," you whine. "Fuck, so good."

"Does he make you come? Does he even try?"

You shake your head frantically, closing your eyes when Steve laughs dryly.

"Didn't think so. He can't make you feel the way I can, baby. He'll never be able to."

His words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, red hot heat building at the pit of your stomach. Steve places one hand at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it causing your eyes to roll back.

Your sweat slicked skin is plastered to his, every inch of you pressed together. Steve leans down to rest his forehead against yours, panting into each other's mouths.

"I love you," he breathes, hips getting quicker. "I love you. Fuck, I love you."

"I love you," you sob, back arching as you find your release. Stars dance across your vision as you tighten around Steve, nails leaving crescent moons on the skin of his shoulders.

Steve's right there with you, back flexing and fingers leaving their prints on your hips as he groans. It's the prettiest sound you've ever heard. Your mind loops it for you, playing it on repeat as he collapses his weight on top of your body.

"I meant it," he mutters against your damp chest. "I do love you. Always have."

You kiss his forehead gently, smoothing the hair away from his face.

"I meant it too. I love you. You taught me what love was in the first place, Steve."

He leans up to press his lips to yours, tender and honey sweet.

You realise the gravity of the situation all of a sudden, your heart rate increasing in Steve's ear.

"Hey, hey. Birdy. Don't panic, okay? We'll figure this out."

You think for a moment, weighing up your options in your head. Unexpectedly, you're jumping out of bed, fixing your dress and slipping on your underwear and heels.

"What are you doing, babe?"

You adjust your hair and swipe your fingers under your eyes to salvage your makeup in the mirror, turning to face the man who's now dressing himself frantically.

"Have you had a drink tonight?"

"No, I drove here."

"Perfect."

You grab your purse and stand by the door, waiting for him to follow. When he looks at you in pure confusion, you chuckle.

"Let's run away."

"Birdy... what?"

"Steve. You heard me. Let's. Run. Away."

He scans your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he finds is love. Adoration. Assuredness. That's all the confirmation he needs.

He runs at you, picking you up and spinning you around. Grabbing his hand, the two of you sneak down the stairs, slipping out of the front door as quietly as possible.

You throw yourself into the front seat of his BMW, vibrating with adrenaline as Steve starts up the engine. It roars to life, and you're very aware that people are going to come looking for you.

But you don't care.

Steve links your fingers, resting your intertwined hands in his lap as he reverses. You go to look back towards the garden, but you stop yourself.

"Can't move forward if you're always looking back, right?"

Steve laughs, leaning over to kiss your warm cheek.

"Truer words have never been spoken, Birdy."

He brings the car to a stop before you begin down the winding driveway, looking at you carefully.

"You ready?"

You take a deep breath, grinning at him.

"I've been ready since we were five years old."

He smiles at you, bright and blinding, and there's no doubt in your mind that you've made the right choice.

Can't move forward if you keep looking back, after all.

@enigmaticloki @joekeerysslut @s-trawberryv-eins @wintressoldier36 @mangomastani

[colourstreakgryffin]

If you take Request for Stories / One-Shots, what about Velvette finds a lost Demon Child took it in and now has to deal with not only a very clingly toddler but also two Vee Uncles who annoy her with Ideas of making more Power and a good Name Image for the Vees newest Member? ^^

Haha. Awww. A solo Velvette as basically a ‘Mom’. I mean, I did do Dad Vox and Dad Valentino. Why not end it with Vel. Alrighty! Let’s try this out, shall we?

Velvette- Hourly Craze

Velvette’s a social media-obsessed teenager at the depths of her soul so when she finds a lost tiny demon toddler in her disposable ‘fashion’ bin, she was holding you out in front of her and going around asking ‘who’s baby is this?’. She doesn’t like babies!

Eventually, Velvette has to bring the baby… being you, into the Vees Tower and almost begged Vox and/or Valentino to take you instead but both decline rather quickly, leaving her STUCK with this brat! She was so pissed

So, when Velvette brought you back to her personal tower with how unhappy she is over this problem she’s in, she just threw you at her crowd of shaky employees hastily and ordered them to look after you. Continuing on, still on her phone and not caring

Although, Velvette begins to feel weird… very weird. She doesn’t get why but she is thinking about you, thinking about where you are. How you feel, what you’re doing or what you’re in but she tries and does well to ignore it

Velvette, after a few days, ends up way too frustrated with her own thoughts and wonder, to ignore them anymore so she finds whichever one of her employees that have you and demand you back. She doesn’t know what to do but she’s taking you anyway

Velvette, by the time she has you back, doesn’t know what to do with a infant so she struggles on how to look after you, even how to feed you so she has to rely on internet and social media and frequent calls to her friends on how to figure this out

Velvette struggles to adapt to your routines. Why are you always waking up SO early in the morning?! She gets so mad but then again, she looks at your face as she picks you up and her heart melts and she calms down instantly then this repeats

Velvette gets puffy a lot when you don’t eat your food or wonder out of your room but it’s because she has no experience with children but whenever she yells at you for annoying her, she instantly regrets it and apologises over and over and hugs you as you cry in her arms

Velvette cannot say she loves you but she doesn’t necessarily hate you either. She just kinda is now passively dealing with you, yet, she hates anybody else being near you nor even touching you so her relationship with this little toddler called you is a bit complicated

Velvette is always just a bit alarmed when she finds you clung onto her. She doesn’t know why you love her so much but than again, she appreciates it and has grown to like it too much to just stop it as whilst she has to half limp around to do her duties, it’s because you’re clung on her leg

Velvette will totally raise you as a iPad baby but she is also the same type to filter the shit out of the internet access so you’ll never ever find anything bad and if you do, she’ll force Vox to make a heavily modified tech piece for you to keep you safe from internet dangers

Velvette has grown more and more to liking you. She is not the best caretaker mother ever but she does actually try yet she isn’t that competent, however, she has her employees and her phone to help satisfy your needs better

Velvette likes to dress you up, put you adorable little outfits she either makes for her latest fashion lines or a piece of her own style that’s a direct copy, to fit you perfectly so you match her. She finds it pretty cute and she can’t help but takes pictures of whatever she dresses you in then shows it to her employees as a ‘learning’ moment since you rock the look better

Yes, Velvette does take pictures of you and posts them on her Voxtagram and many other social media platforms as she is quite proud of how cute and precious you are. You’re the cutest toddler in Hell and she wants everybody to know you’re hers!

Velvette gets quite pissy at Vox and Valentino for bothering her about you. Just leave you alone and trust me, she isn’t gonna be quiet about those feelings, she doesn’t like it when they even try to mention that raising you to be the next Vee would help raise more power. That isn’t happening

Velvette will absolutely name you something staring with ‘V’, such as ‘Vance’ or ‘Vienna’ or ‘Vernee’ as soon as she can. She just thinks ‘V’ fits you much better

Velvette may not know what she feels but she loves you, she really does love you. She is kinda rocky with caring for you but she is trying her best

“Babycakes! Come here! Yes! Look at the phone, come to the phone! Come to Momette! Good bubba! You’re doing it! Yes, this is perfect for my Voxtagram”

[avocadorablepirate]

What Do We Call This? - 10

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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler

A/N: Damn I can't believe we've made it to ten chapters (and I still don't know what to call this). Anyway, thanks for sticking around and I hope you like this one as well!

—⁠☆✿☆—⁠

You were aware of the beyond uncomfortable position you were in. The soreness of your back and numbness in your arm evidently the reasons for your discomfort. But the warmth radiating from your side refused to have you wake up. It was like being covered by a thick blanket on a cold winter's day, and you wanted to relish in it for as long as you could. And as if understanding your need for more of its warmth, the blanket pulled you further into its embrace.

The creaking of a door and a loud gasp is what finally startled you awake. At the entrance to the room stood Bepo, his doe-like eyes wide, and reflecting shock, making your brows furrow in confusion. At the same time a low groan and a tug at your waist came from beside you, the grip warm and firm, anchoring you to the spot. Confused yet again, you turned your head only to find yourself face to face with a tattooed chest. It took your brain a while to process who the chest belonged to, but when recognition hit, you tried to pull away from it.

The sudden movement within his arms made Law's grip tighten around you. His eyes blinked open to see what was causing such a ruckus, and his expression soon mirrored your surprised one. His cheeks flushed red as he immediately pulled away from you, apologise flowing out of his mouth. It had seemed that somewhere during the night he had accidentally pulled you down with him as he nestled into his bed - or maybe nestled into you.

Only then did Law notice the white bear standing by the door, still bewildered by the sight in front of him. Law stood up quickly, his body tense as he eyed Bepo, and seizing your chance, you scrambled out of the bed. Though you couldn't get out of the room just yet; Bepo remained unmoving by the door, rooted to the spot until his captain called out to him.

"Cap-Captain!" came a high-pitched squeak, before he cleared his throat, "We'll be approaching Wano in a few hours. We..we couldn't find you around the sub, so I thought I would come here. Sorry captain," he said with a little bow of his head. His apology only added to your flustered state as you realised what the situation must have looked like to him.

"I'll be out soon, just give me a minute," Law directed to Bepo, but you took that as your sign to leave as well, quickly following behind the Mink even before Law could think of calling you back.

You hurried back to your temporary quarters on the Polar Tang, exhaling a sigh of relief as you found it empty. You weren't exactly sure how you would explain to Robin and Ikkaku why you were sheepishly returning in your disheveled clothes from the previous day. While you were sure they would believe your explanation, you also knew that it wouldn't stop them from teasing.

After quickly freshening up, you made your way to the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee welcoming you as you entered the room. Robin and Ikkaku sat at the table, engrossed in conversation, but as soon as you took a seat beside them, their attention shifted to you, their expressions changing into ones of suspicion.

"(Y/N), where have you been? You weren't in your bunk when I woke up," Robin questioned, not taking her eyes off you as she sipped at her coffee.

"Oh, you know, just exploring the sub," you answered with a shrug, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible as you poured yourself a cup of the dark liquid. Although the two of them didn't seem completely convinced by your reply, they didn't press further, resuming their conversation, which you joined. As the three of you settled into easy banter, you found yourself drawn into the lively discussion. You and Ikkaku chatted animatedly while Robin listened, chiming in from time to time. It hadn't taken long for the two of you to befriend Ikkaku; it had happened almost overnight on your first day on the Polar Tang, and since then the three of you always seemed to have something to talk about.

Engrossed in your discussion, you were so immersed in the conversation that you didn't notice the tall figure that stood over you until you heard a throat clear, and the table fell silent. Shifting in your seat, your heart skipped a beat when you found Law standing behind you, his gaze fixed on your form with a certain intensity.

"You left this," he said, handing you the pouch from last night. You hastily grabbed the bag from him, offering a small smile of thanks while silently praying that Robin and Ikkaku hadn't overheard his words. However, the curious glances from the two women behind you said otherwise. They had clearly caught Law's previous actions and were now observing his continued stare at you as if he were contemplating his next words. Ikkaku, growing impatient with her burning curiosity, was on the verge of questioning her captain when Law finally spoke up.

"If you'd like to come to my room again, I could show you some books I have about islands," Law stated casually, unfazed by Ikkaku and Robin's mischievous grins that followed.

"Again?" Robin asked, arching an eyebrow and you felt a wave of panic wash over you.

"Let's go now," you said hurriedly, grabbing Law by the arm and pulling him along before either Robin or Ikkaku could protest. You and avoidance were well acquainted, and right now, it was your best bet to escape their incessant questioning.

You raced down the corridor, with Law in tow. The weight of his gaze bore into your back, intense like last time, yet unreadable as always. Once you were finally within the safe confines of his quarters you let go of his arm, your face flushed with embarrassment, "You didn't have to say that in front of them," you mumbled, unable to meet his gaze.

"Say what?" Law asked, tilting his head in confusion before realisation dawned on him, a small smirk forming on his lips, "You didn't have to rush out of the room," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, I didn't really feel like answering a bunch of questions," you replied. You would take their curiosity over their teasing questions any day. "So, what are these books you have?" you inquired, eager to change the subject.

Law made his way to the shelf by his bedside and rummaged through it, his fingers trailing along the spines of each book until he found what he was looking for.

"You're looking for an island, right?" he asked, as he read through the summary at the back of the book he had selected. "It's an old book, and from what I know it's the only copy. It has details about the Grand-Line's lesser-known islands, and some extra pages about islands that have disappeared over the years."

You quietly whispered a word of thanks as you accepted the book from Law, your fingers lightly brushing against his as you did. For a second your gazes met, and you could have sworn that he let his hand linger on yours, but you quickly turned your attention to the book.

As you flipped through the contents, your eyes gleamed with excitement when you found a few maps towards the end, eliciting a smile from Law. Settling on the edge of his bed, you started reading through the pages, and he sat beside you, pointing out interesting facts and occasionally stealing glances in your direction. Law couldn't help but adore the way your face lit up with every turn of a page. Yet you remained completely oblivious to it, your focus fixed solely on the book in front of you.

Nearly an hour had passed when a soft knock at the door interrupted the peaceful atmosphere. Law called out for the person to come in, and the door opened slightly to reveal Bepo. A gasp came out of the Mink again, and he immediately launched into a series of apologise, leading Law to roll his eyes.

"We're just reading Bepo," Law muttered, his tone tinged with irritation. A blush crept up to the apples of your cheeks at the reminder of the earlier misunderstanding, and you glanced away, trying to focus back on the book.

Bepo shuffled awkwardly at the door, still unsure of whether to intrude or not, and Law sighed at the bear's hesitance. "What is it?" he asked, his voice softer now, though a hint of impatience was evident. In truth, Law hoped it was nothing serious. He was enjoying this calm, quiet moment with you and he didn't want it to end. The warmth of your presence seemed to stop time and eased the tension within him.

"Kin'emon wants to brief us before we reach Wano, so we're needed on deck," Bepo answered, and Law inwardly let out a frustrated sigh, his gaze momentarily flickering back to you to gauge your reaction. You, however, slammed the book shut and took to your feet. The prospect of a new adventure excited you, and despite the interruption, you felt a rush of eagerness.

"Let's go," you said with a bright smile, looking at Law. His frustration eased at the sight of your enthusiasm, and he couldn't help but give a faint smile back.

"Alright," he agreed, standing up as well, and the both of you followed behind Bepo to the deck.

_______________________________________________

"No."

"What?"

Law's jaw clenched as he glared at Kin'emon for his suggestion before his gaze shifted to you, softening. His mind raced with concerns for your safety, unwilling to expose you to any unnecessary risks after what you had told him last night.

"I said no," Law said firmly, redirecting his attention to Kin'emon, "It's too risky. Having both her and Robin as geishas will attract too much attention. We'll get caught."

"Maybe an oiran then?" Kin'emon suggested, and Law's jaw clenched tighter as he thought about the implications, the mere thought of other men laying eyes on you, setting his protective instincts into overdrive.

"No!" Law practically yelled though he tried to maintain his composure as he formulated another protest to Kin'emon's suggestion. "It's still too dangerous. The attention would be just as bad, if not worse."

You glanced at Law, not expecting him to be protective even now. His concern was evident, even if he hid it behind practical reasoning, but this wasn't for him to decide. You tried to interject, wanting to voice your opinion, but Law's firm protest silenced you before you could even get a word out. Kin'emon, too, seemed to ignore your attempts to speak, his attention focused on Law's objections.

"But Law-dono, we need to get as much information as we can," Kin'emon insisted, his brow furrowing in frustration. The urgency of the mission weighed heavily on him.

"Yes, but sending in too many people to the same place could jeopardize the entire plan," Law countered, his voice steady and unwavering.

Kin'emon hesitated for a moment, considering Law's words carefully, "Perhaps you're right," he conceded, finally turning his attention to you, "In that case, how about you work as a waitress instead? It's a less conspicuous role, but there's a place that Orochi's men frequent, so you'll still have the opportunity to gather information."

Law visibly frowned at the proposal but was quick to hide it. He would have protested to this plan as well if it wasn't so obvious that he was being overprotective. Law was generally someone who agreed with the best possible course of action. But with you things were different, he preferred to keep you close rather than risk your safety, even if that meant a few compromises would have to be made.

You exchanged another glance with Law, feeling a surge of annoyance bubbling within you. Despite understanding his intentions, you couldn't help but feel frustrated by the way your opinion was completely disregarded. Nevertheless, you bit back your objections, not wanting to cause further conflict. With a forced nod of agreement, you reluctantly agreed to Kin'emon's suggestion.

As Kin'emon turned to leave, satisfied with the compromise, you couldn't shake the feeling of irritation that gnawed at you. While the others dispersed, returning to their tasks in preparation for your arrival at Wano, you remained stiff by the railing, trying to quell your frustration.

Law approached you, his footsteps echoing against the deck as he closed the distance between you. "We still have some time, do you want to get back to reading?" he offered casually, trying to stop the corners of his mouth from lifting in a small smile.

"No," you replied curtly, your voice betraying your annoyance. Law's brows furrowed at your change in demeanor, and his eyes searched yours for a hint to your sudden change.

"I need to prepare for when we reach Wano," you explained, hurriedly walking away before he could further question you. Left puzzled, Law watched your retreating figure, worry clouding his mind as he contemplated following you. He couldn't stand the thought of you being upset with him again, not when you were gradually opening up to each other. Yet duty called, Shachi needed him in the control room. With a heavy sigh, he turned away, deciding to check up on you later, hoping to mend whatever rift had formed between the two of you.

_______________________________________________

A/N: I LIVE FOR THE TENSION...just going to keep causing problems for the both of them ╮⁠(⁠＾⁠▽⁠＾⁠)⁠╭.

taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld @cottoncandyloverrrr @magnificenttaledreamland @kitsunechan707

[souglias]

DAWN - Al Haitham

Al Haitham has an uninvited visitor early in the morning. He comes to feel that this visitor, namely you, is not unwelcome.

Al Haitham x gn!reader. Fluff.

Word count: 2.7k

c/w: none

note: special and very big thank you to @baeshijima for helping me ensure Al Haitham isn't ooc and also for the beta <3 <3 <3. And with this, the collection has come to an end :)

Dusk, Twilight, Dawn Masterlist

--

DAWN bestows a new beginning. The orange glow of the sun stretches up towards the night sky, granting the boundless overhead canopy a light blue shade. Pale light seeps in through Al Haitham’s window and spreads thinly onto the walls of his room through the daylight curtains. However, Al Haitham stays unaffected in his slumber. 

He only awakens to the muffled sound of knocks on his house door a while later. Al Haitham turns to his side and doesn’t open his eyes. He assumes that Kaveh forgot his keys before leaving for his crush’s house to complete their assignments together. But no matter, Kaveh can wait. 

Al Haitham is about to fall back asleep when the knocks come again. Al Haitham opens his eyes with a scowl. He hurls his blanket aside and drags himself out of bed, ready to give Kaveh a piece of his mind. But when he opens the door, all the words he had ready fail him. 

Instead of the architect, it is you standing at his door. You hold one suitcase in your hand and one sits on the ground beside you. Your hand is raised and you’re about to greet him, but you freese when you see the scowl on his face.

Al Haitham takes a moment to collect himself and asks, “Did you just come back to Sumeru City?”

You nod. 

“Then, why aren’t you going home to rest?”

“I have to go back to the Akademiya in about an hour and a half with one of these suitcases. It would be counterproductive to head to my house and carry this back in this direction again. Also… I was worried I would fall asleep if I returned home.”

Al Haitham reaches out for your suitcase on the floor and props the door wide open with one leg. Following that, he takes the one in your hand from you and his fingers brush against yours. You almost flinch from the sudden touch. 

Still carrying your suitcase, he leans his back on the door to let you in. Warmth fills your chest at his gesture and you feel heat rush to your face. You urge yourself not to look away, thinking he’d catch on to your feelings for him if you show any hint of embarrassment. You make your way to the sofa, suppressing a smile forming on your lips. 

As he sets your baggage down beside you, you start studying his features without realising it. It’s as if you’re seeing a picturesque view at a different time of the day. 

Al Haitham’s hair is untidy and somewhat of a mess, yet it is endearing to you. He’s wearing an oversized black shirt and baggy long green pants, different from his usual… skin-tight attire. You also notice his slightly bleary eyes, only then realising you woke him up from his sleep. 

You apologise, “I’m sorry, I thought Kaveh was at home or that you were already awake and about to prepare to head out to the Akademiya.”

Al Haitham’s gaze meets yours as he straightens up. He states, “Kaveh is completing his final assignment together with someone he likes. As for me, I’m going to the Akademiya slightly later today, so I didn’t wake up as early as I usually do.”

You don’t reply to him, only staring at him. He determines that you’re considering something.

“Yes?”

“I know it’ll sound weird but, you should go back to sleep. I can stay here by myself. I’ve been here many times, I know where things are if I need them.”

Al Haitham doesn’t like the idea of going to sleep when he could be catching up with you.

You left for your research trip to Mondstadt a few weeks ago, leaving him with an emptiness in his chest. A restless hand came to reside in that space and it clawed around in his chest as if it were looking for something outside. In an attempt to appease it, he tried writing some letters to you. 

However, Al Haitham could not find any words. He tried, but he was not one for small talk. The letters started with said small talk, but they always ended up being about what consumes him from the inside. These words birthed from his restlessness, he decided, were not yet meant for your eyes. The letters ended up in the trash and out of sight.

Finally, he’s seeing you and he wants to spend some time with you. Though, he sees the guilt in your eyes for waking him up and he caves for you.

“Okay. I’m heading back to sleep. You can use the kitchen and the living room as always. If anything, you can come to my room.”

After you nod, he turns around and heads to his room. He leaves the door slightly ajar and lies down on his bed. Despite the distance, he feels your presence on his back turned against the door. Even with his closed eyes, he can see you walking around his house with footsteps he strains to hear.

His thoughts are full of you, and he drifts off to a light sleep.

When he comes to again, he only hears the rustling of his sheets as he turns. The clock tells him he’s been asleep for a little more than half an hour. The absence of noise outside his room probes Al Haitham to get out of his bed and wash up faster than he usually does. 

On his way out of his room, he notices that the door has been fully closed. However, he immediately dismisses the thought he has, reasoning that the wind has nudged it shut instead. 

Al Haitham finds you asleep on the sofa. You sit slouched, your elbow propped up on the armrest and your face resting on your palm. A golden glow spills from the window onto one side of your face. On the table in front of you, there’s a cup of coffee with faint smoke wafting and a plate of Moon Pies. 

The fragrance of the coffee smells different from the one he always has every morning. 

One of your open suitcases catches his eye and he notices a box of Mondstadt coffee brews lying atop souvenir gifts for others. 

Al Haitham shifts his gaze back to you. As he watches you, he notices the eye bags under your eyes and a tiny cut below your cheekbone. You also look like you’ve lost a little weight.

That hand in his chest starts scraping on his insides again.

You’re smart and capable. One of the few people he can talk to about knowledge and research comfortably, even when both of you are from different Darshans. Al Haitham often hears of your stellar grades and he has no reason to doubt them.

You get along well with others and are friendly, always watching out for everyone and keeping others in your mind. He’s lost track of how many times you’ve shown up with something you thought he would like. Sometimes, though Al Haitham thinks it’s unnecessary, you’d bring something for Kaveh too.

But you have a habit of being too engrossed in your knowledge-seeking. A habit that vexes him more than he expected.

There was one time you barely slept for a week straight and passed out. He had found himself running out of class to find you in Birmarstan. The doctor and nurses reassured him that you were okay, but they let him be with his book by your bedside when he wouldn’t budge. He was only willing to leave when you awoke. When he returned to the Akademiya, he had an irritating lecturer to answer to. This lecturer wouldn’t let Al Haitham off with what he thought was a reassuring statement of  “I’ll catch up easily through self-study”.

Another time, you were out in the forest doing a research project and Al Haitham had decided to tag along. You had your mind so high up in the clouds with your theories, you ended up wandering off. You ended up getting cornered by several eremites. 

Realising that you left his sight, Al Haitham took off immediately to find you. When he had found you, you were battered and bruised. One last standing eremite stood ready to pounce at you. 

Catching both you and the eremite off guard, Al Haitham finished the eremite off. Right after that, he lost his temper. It was a first for you to see him so infuriated, and you hated that his anger was directed at you. You argued with him that you could have fended them off, but he refused to listen to you. He didn’t even realise how strong his grip was on you until you flung your hand back towards yourself. The war of words only ended when you shouted at him.

“I’m fine now! Why are you so angry and… stubborn?”

Al Haitham remembers so vividly being lost for words. With no answer for you, all he could offer was an apology. The walk back out of the forest was silent and you only apologised to him too for being so careless when you arrived back in Sumeru City. Both of you made up with a meal at Lambad’s Tavern. There was even a slight bicker over who was going to pay for the meal. But somehow, the gears between the two of you shifted since then.

Stolen glances. Accidental touches which occur way too often. Going out of his way to do something for you, only to pretend that it was nothing or that he had no involvement in it. Allowing certain things that he wouldn’t have normally allowed for others. One being his headphones. He has never lent his headphones to anyone, yet he’s personally put them on your head. 

It was difficult for Al Haitham back when he realised he had fallen for you. He thought he was sick until he realised this was what people called infatuation, which could turn into love. It was difficult to manage, but it wasn’t unwelcome and never will be.

His hand twitches. Fingers start stretching towards you.

Al Haitham’s finger only grazes the faint cut on your cheek. For once, he is afraid, afraid to let his hand do anything more than hover above your skin. His eyes still on you, he mumbles in a foreign language, “Don’t make loving you so difficult.” 

Awoken by his voice, you wake up bleary and ask, “Sorry, what did you say?”

He pulls his hand back as if he touched something he shouldn’t have. You look at him, lost as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. 

“Hello??” you say as you outstretch your hands and try to wave at him.

He sees your hand wave in front of his face, but he can’t find the words to excuse himself. If what he feels has become so unbearable that he cannot contain it, the most rational move for him is to tell you how he feels.

You see something behind you and you hop out of your seat. “I have to leave soon. Okay listen- are you listening?”

If he likes you, he should tell you. Now. That’s how straightforward it is. That’s how it should be. That’s how it’s always been. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t told you yet. How many times has he told this to himself?

You scramble to your suitcase and pull out some books. “Okay, these are for you-”

Any other way is nonsensical.

“[Name].”

It catches you by surprise and your voice trails off, “Yes…?”

He wants to be on your mind so much more, so much so there’s no capacity for anyone else. He desires more mornings with you and your brewed coffee for him.

“I like you.”

Your breath hitches and you freeze. Al Haitham sees the gears in your head shift. 

“You’re not joking, are you? I’m sure you said something entirely different in whatever language you used earlier.” 

“You’re not wrong. But I’m not joking.”

Searching his face, you try to find an ounce of humour in his expression. When your search turns up empty, you resort to replaying his words in your mind to analyse his tone. Throughout your friendship, you learn that Al Haitham makes jokes with a straight face. However, you don't detect even a glimmer of cheekiness. The “I’m joking” phrase you’ve been waiting for the entire time doesn’t fall off his lips either. 

You plop down on his sofa and bury your face in your hands. Your voice comes out muffled as you say, “Archons, you’re always like this!”

“Like what?”

You hurl your hands away from your flushed face and you look up. Gazes locked for a split second, your eyes dart away from him and your voice softens.

“You’re always so straightforward.”

Al Haitham lowers himself, levelling his eyes with yours. His hands tentatively wrap around yours, as if he’s about to pick up a priceless gem. When you don’t pull your hand away, he presses your fingertips on the spot where the gem on his chest is underneath his shirt. 

The image of the green gem you’ve seen umpteenth times surfaces in your mind. You see it so vividly. It reminds you of the green glowing blades that came raining down on that last eremite he rescued you from back then. You would never admit it to him, but if he hadn’t arrived, you think it would have been the end of you.

You only spare your hand, encased in his, a glance. The magnetic pull of his eyes pulls your gaze back. Even though you could, you find yourself unable to look away from the mesmerising teal and amber of his eyes. 

Those are the eyes that root you when you think that you are losing yourself. Yet those are the same eyes, half-lidded now, that make your world spin. 

He whispers, “And you have always been the object of my desires.”

Your heart hammers furiously against the walls of your chest. It wants to jump out of its confines and present itself to Al Haitham. Euphoria is your blood and the vessels that hold them are passages of love.

For all that he's done for you and said to you, there's only one thing you could ever say back to him.

You whisper back, “I like you too.”

“Then let’s get together.”

Together. Al Haitham finds it sweet on his tongue. Both your hands intertwine slowly, settling into each other’s touch. He holds onto it tightly. Even as you pack your research materials into your suitcase, his grasp doesn’t loosen.

“Archons, that was so… out of nowhere,” you comment as you organise and shove the papers into your suitcase with one hand. Al Haitham notices your flushed cheeks.

“How was that sudden?”

“I was trying to give you some books I got for you. Then, you just caught me off guard and said that you…” your voice trails off.

“Well, what did I say?”

You only scoff at him when you see a smirk form on his lips. You absolutely refuse to play his game. Besides, there’ll be plenty of time for you to catch him off guard as payback. He hums, trying to probe an answer out of you, but you don’t give him the satisfaction of it.

Al Haitham only lets go of your hand when you open the door, somewhat reluctant to do so with how his fingers linger and glide slowly along yours as he pulls his hands away from yours. As you are about to leave, you abruptly turn back and pull him into a hug. His arms encircle around yours like he’s embraced you many times. You rest your head on his chest for a moment, and you hear his hammering heart that has the same beat as yours. He straightens your attire when you pull away and a subtle smile of his graces you.

“See you later.”

With that, you rush off to the Akademiya with red-rimmed ears. 

Silence starts to fill the house again and Al Haitham notes that the house feels a little empty without you. He walks back to the sofa, finally processing the butterflies in his stomach. He places his palm on his lips, right on the spot where your touch ghosts his hand. With that, he starts eating the breakfast you made. For him.

He hums. It is still warm, just like daybreak after a cold night.

--

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed this! All likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

[quantifiableconnections]

I just finished watching Skam (Norway) today and let’s just say I’m not kidding when I say this is one of the BEST shows I’ve ever watched. I did take a lot of time to watch all the seasons (spanning over one year) but I enjoyed each and every moment of it. Well, some a little less than others. Hence, I have some thoughts and please forgive my yapping.

Okay so Season 1. I actually liked it quite a lot. The acting was good, and it gave a nice start to the whole story.

The getting together of the girls was the highlight obviously, but I really liked the portrayal of Eva in this, as a kind of lost teenager who doesn’t have a lot of direction in her life and is mostly dependent on her boyfriend.

I did think the Isak plot line in this was a little badly done, but I guess it was necessary for the big reveal in the end.

I think the fact that Eva was able to resolve things with Ingrid was very unrealistic, considering they had literally been besties and she basically stole her man. But really idk.

Talking about Jonas, he was majorly gaslighting Eva during the season so I think their relationship was a little immature. Classic right person wrong time.

Penetrator Chris is SO HOT. Especially in that mf smoky eye makeup istg. But he’s a giant asshole and we do not support him.

Season 2. Okay. First let’s start with the showstealer. Eskild my man. I don’t think Eskild is appreciated enough in the whole series but I absolutely love him!! He is so mature, and is such a good friend. I love the dynamic between him and Noora and even him and Linn.

Now let’s address the elephant in the room because why not? I did not like Noorhelm all that much. William never had much of a character development and we never get to see him expressing a lot of emotions. I forever stand by the opinion that Noora was too good for him. Many people talk about William’s support of Noora’s decision to not have sex, but really, that’s like settling for the bare minimum that can be expected from a decent person.

I think the dickhead of a brother had more personality than William. So in conclusion, season 2 did not really impress me but I’d watch it again for Eskild.

Eva hooking up with Chris?? The guy she cheated on her ex with? Can’t say I like this.

Season 3 is SO well done. There’s no question about it. I love Isak’s slow acceptance of his sexuality. From being a closeted gay guy who made homophobic comments to fit in, to a happy and out gay guy in a relationship.

Absolutely adore the boys. Jonas, Mahdi, Magnus. I especially loved Magnus and his take on the whole situation.

Eskild coming in and stealing the show yet again?!!

Emma and Sonja are VICTIMS. As much as I love Evak, they fucked their girlfriends over pretty bad and I hate them for it. Also, Emma is soooooooooo pretty.

The story of Even. His whole character portrayal. The picturisation of his mental issues. Chef’s kiss.

Minute by minute??? Are you trying to kill me here??? It is SO wholesome and they both have matured so much, especially Isak, dealing with his sexuality plus his boyfriend’s mental issues so delicately.

Their chemistry. Their chemistry. Their chemistry.

Sonja should NOT have apologised.

Overall, this season is tied with the fourth as my favourite.

Season 4. Sana is my favourite character hands down. She is portrayed so well, we see all her insecurities, beliefs so beautifully.

Yousana is my favourite couple. Evak is a close second.

The understanding between them, the intellectual conversations, the level of maturity. Just wondrous.

I did think the whole situation with the russ bus was overdone. I never really understood why Sana was so involved with it in the first place. This could easily have been summed up in one episode leaving time for more Yousana development.

Yousef is such a green flag omg. He’s literally the cutest out of all skam boys( my opinion). I just wish he had more screen time.

Elias and Sana??? Whatever bits and pieces we got to see of their relationship were GOLD.

I. Love. My. Girls. So. Much. I just wish Sana was shown interacting more with all of them, not just Noora. Also Yousef and Noora working together to thaw Sana??

I canNOT stress this enough. Yousef and Sana are the best couple ( besides Evak obviously). The chemistry, the flirting, everything was done so right that it got me blushing furiously through the screen. And they managed to do all this without showing any kind of physical contact. Just lovely. The way they counter each other’s opinions with such delicacy and respect makes me believe that they are definitely going to last.

The situation with Even and Mikael and all the balloon squad boys should have been given more screen time.

The way Sana’s faith and her relationship with her family were handled are commendable. We see the dilemma, the cogs of her brain working, and how she accepts her fate and doesn’t sway from her beliefs. I strongly believe that her and Yousef will handle their differences maturely and still come out to be a strong couple.

I SWEAR SHE AND I ARE SOULMATES?????? Cutest shit I’ve ever seen.

Sana and Isak’s friendship means so much to me. In Season 3, we see her rising above her opinions and respecting homosexuality. Here we see Isak figuring Sana out and helping her see beyond her strong opinions. And wdym Sana??? You are best buds.

Okay. The last episode. I absolutely loved it. It’s one of the best season finales I’ve ever watched. We go into the lives of all the girls and some of the guys too. I literally teared up at the Eskild and Linn part!!( idk why they still address Chris as penetrator Chris when his face is literally on the screen like people we know it’s not our girl?? Idk I find it extremely funny). I wish they had shown more of Vilde and Chris’ friendship in the past and not just the final episode. The Even part was absolutely incredible. His insecurities, his fears, and we see him pacifying Isak and not the other way around. Yousef texting Sana from Turkey?? And saying he’ll take her there?? My heart melted.

I literally don’t think Noorhelm is going to last long even though they have reconciled. Something just seems off. Joneva is back??? Didn’t really like the buildup but I guess they could be a good couple as they are more mature than the last time.

Okay. So that sums it up more or less. My favourite was season 4, closely followed by season 3. My favourite characters were Sana and Eskild, they were just so amazing. I related to Sana fiercely all through the show.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk. Feel free to give your own opinions please!!!!

[fanfiction-blep]

Does anyone else wonder if pandora has the equivalent of weed *cough catnip* for the Navi? Imagine Miles getting some into his system and his senses just kind of go hazy. Loses control of himself a bit and drops the tough guy act long enough to make known how much he cares about you. Bonus points for stoned out sexed up miles 🥵

PLEASE I love this idea, I did google it. I know they have different poisons they can use to hallucinate, but I love this Concept. And I'll do two parts. One where Just Miles get's high and then one where they are both high as it doesn't sit right with me to write smut where one person is under the influence and the other is not.

That's some plant~ Na'vi Miles Quaritch x Fem/Reader

Warnings: Substance use? fluffy, Quaritch HIGH AS BALLS, soft Quaritch, Quaritch being baby.

Okay I can't think of a specific plot of this would happen so bare with head cannons for now.

Okay so he ingests it as an accident, maybe in the field? Like maybe there is a plant? And you don't have to prepare it, its chemical components can be ingested without any prep and bam. hello 420.

So you know the planet well? And you are teaching the recoms what is safe to eat and what isn't or what will do nothing but taste bad.

Quaritch is down bad okay? he likes you a lot and all this plant stuff isn't his thing he doesn't know how to impress you. Normally he would show off, in whatever way popped into his head but he realised that didn't work for you so he tried to act like he knew what he was doing.

He saw a large plant with a purple stem. large star like leaves five times the size of his head pointing out in every direction the odd flower sprouting. He picked two or three leaves and shoved one into his mouth, it tasted a little bitter but it was damp and once down the aftertaste wasn't bad.

What he didn't know was the best way to take this plant was in a tea, but no big blue simp man wanted to show off, he walzted over to you, already chomping down on the second leaf. Smirking at you. Your eyes went wide trying to grab the remaining leaf from him.

"Please tell me that you didn't eat that" "Ya just saw me eat one, what's the problem sweetheart?" He had pulled his hand into the air and was now lifting his head eating the third leaf. "Quaritch stop!" She wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry at his impuslive behaviour. A hand resting over you're mouth in shock. It hit him there. You weren't messing around.

"Miles?" You asked placing a hand on his bicep. "How many leaves did you eat?" "Three" He spoke as if he was a child who had gotten caught eating cookies before dinner. "Alright, back to base. Now!" you gestured the rest of the recoms re grouped and headed to the ship in confusion.

"What's wrong did i eat something poisonous?" She stared up at him. "You just ate Pandora's version of cannabis!" "Fuck"

now you would be both mad, but mainly confused, who just randomly eats a plant they have no knowledge on? Miles Quaritch apparently. you would have told the science guys and insisted you would watch over Quaritch yourself.

He would be SO CLUMSY. Imagine him falling into a wall and apologising to it. Or staring at random inanimate objects and having very existential thoughts.

"Do ya ever wonder about the fact we never ask our beds if they want to be laid on?" You would have to stifle your laughter. getting him to his room was a MISSION. Lyle tries to help you. As Miles isn't able to walk by himself. You being a Na'vi you can kinda help him?

But man's is THICCC and even as a Na'vi you struggle to hold his whole weight. Also he doesn't want Lyle helping him. He starts swatting at Lyles hands. Incoherently mumbling at him. "What's the matter Colonel?" "Only want the pretty lady touching me." He would pout and rub his cheek against your head.

he was fucking purring, like actually purring while rubbing his cheek all over your head.

Lyle walked away as soon as you reached your room, you had picked your own room as you had all the medical supplies that you might need in case he has a bad reaction.

Okay so I have this vision in my head off him lifting his arm off your shoulders and trying to walk to the bed and just walking in a zig zag line. and doing a little fist bump in the air when he sits down on the bed.

Okay so you decide to grab him a glass of water, grab a med kit and take his temperature. Imagine him trying to bite the thermometer. Like your trying to put it under his tongue and he's acting like a child. You finally snap at him. "Just let me take care of you!"

"yes ma'am" He would push his legs together and make his back all straight and stare at you with this little goofy grin. You would place two fingers on his neck to check his pulse, and he would lean into your hand!

He's a little goofy baby boy. The whole dom thing melts away, and he just wants to be close to you.

He just wants to feel you, he comes down a little still high off his rocker but he's less toddler like. He gets sensitive to touch. Any fabric starts to irritate him, He starts pulling on his camo and tank top. Overwhelmed by the feeling on his skin yet unable to fully communicate what was happening due to fog in his brain.

You understand and walk over lifting his arms up and pulling off his tank top. You don't feel comfortable with him taking off his trousers due to his situation so you go to his room (Only for a moment) And find him some sweatpants. In hopes that it will make him feel better.

When you re entre the room he gets all excited and smiles at you. "You came back!" He wouldn't get overexcited it was more of a whisper. He would do little grabby hands and pull your hips pressing his face against your torso. Eventually he has wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you into his lap. Face buried in the nape of your neck, breathing in your scent.

"Ya smell soo good" So all his sense are heightened and he has always adored how you smell he has just never talked to you about this. "Miss how ya smell" at this point you give in and you start stroking the hair on his head, Causing him to purr again. The vibrations tickling your chest.

You stayed like this for a while until he fell asleep and you had to lay him down, in a half awake state he would pull you back onto the bed. "Need to hold ya pretty girl" "Don't wanna loose ya"

100% waking up thirty as hell.

Smiles when he sees you left a glass of water next to the bed for him, plus a few fresh fruits.

Fells slightly guilty about his behaviour because he doesn't know you feel the same way about him. He climbs back into the bed because he will be damned if he stumbles back to his room at unholy hours of the morning.

All the guilt melts away when he feels you roll into his side smiling in your sleep nuzzling against the bare skin of his chest.

is going to ask you to try the plant with him for sure, he just has to wait for you to wake up.

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

8th Day of Christmas

A Supernatural Christmas Party

Summary/Prompt - Going to the Supernatural Christmas Party

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warning - SMUT

Christmas Masterlist | Masterlist

You’re just putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you feel hands on your waist. Your eyes meet with your boyfriend’s green one and you both smile.

“You’re so sexy, do we have to go to this party?” He asks.

“I flew all the way here to be your date, so yes we have to go.”

He pouts and then kisses your neck. He feels you shiver as the feeling. “You can still be my date right here in this room.”

“Jensen…” you turn around, take his hands and look in his eyes. “I promise, the second we get home I’m all yours. But you’re the colead, you can’t not go.”

He sighs. “Come on then, we’d better go before I change my mind and tear that sexy red dress right off you and throw you on the bed.”

“The second we get back you can.” You bend down to strap on your heels and he groans.

“I haven’t seen you in almost a month and now you dress all sexy and tell me I can’t touch. You’re evil.”

“You can’t tell me how evil I am when we get home later. For now though, take a deep breath, think of anything else and then meet me in the car.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Half an hour later you finally arrive at the fancy venue that Bob Singer hired for the night to celebrate the wrap of filming for the year. You walk in hand-in-hand with Jensen. Once you’re inside he takes your heavy coat and gets it cloaked along with his own overcoat. Leaving him in a simple black suit with a red bow tie and pocket square to match your dress. He leads you through the foyer to a large room where the rest of the cast and crew are already socialising. You scan the room for people you recognise. While you try to visit whenever you can, it is hard with you working elsewhere.

You were a guest star on a couple of episodes of Supernatural last season, that’s when you and Jensen hit it off, but when your character was written out you were forced to audition for other roles. You had hoped your next job would keep you in Vancouver at least, but no such luck. You’ve been filming at a set in LA. Long distance is hard, especially with different time zones and filming schedules, but you both understand that it’s just part of the job. And while you love each other, you also love your jobs, so you just do what you can to make it work.

Your eyes land on the tallest person in the room and his short wife. You both walk over to greet them. Gen pulls you in for a quick hug and Jared follows.

“Hey guys, great to see you again. I’ve missed you, Moose.”

He playfully punches you in the shoulder. “Missed you too Mouse.” Despite being a little taller than his wife, he had taken to calling you that while you were on set. You didn’t mind one bit, he always tried to make you feel comfortable and welcome on set. You actually met him before Jensen, but he came into your life like a whirlwind. He was directing the first episode you were on. Making him too busy and stressed to properly welcome you. But once he was back to simply acting you got to know each other a lot better and things progressed quickly.

“Want a drink, Sweetheart?” Jense asks you with a squeeze of your hand.

“Sure, just a glass of red. Thanks.”

He kisses your cheek and then walks off towards the bar. He stops along the way to greet other cast and crew members. You smile at him. Despite his earlier protests, you know he’s happy he came and that he would regret it if he didn’t. He loves his job and all the people he works with. That was one of the many reasons you feel so hard and fast for him. While long distance is hard, you would never ask him to give any of this up. It’s a family that he’s helped build and you’re just grateful to be part of it.

When he finally returns with your drink he apologises for his delay which you brush off with a kiss before you both do some more rounds chatting with everyone and wishing them well for the holidays.

Eventually a makeshift dance floor opens up in the middle of the room and he looks at you hopefully. He bows down dramatically and holds out a hand to you. “May I have this dance?”

You laugh and nod. “Why of course, kind sir.” He laughs too as he pulls you onto the dance floor. You play around through a few party songs until they slow it down. Then he pulls you close, his hands on your waist holding you close and swaying you to the music as yours rest around his shoulders with your head leaning against his chest. Throughout the song you end up grinding against each other a few times inadvertently. The second the song finishes and the room livens up again he leads you through the maze of socialising people and out to the empty foyer.

He presses you up against the wall and kisses you hard. “I can’t wait anymore, Baby. I need you. Please. I’ve missed you so much.”

You kiss him back and deepen the kiss, swiping your tongue against his. When he pulls back he looks down the hall for somewhere more private, not wanting to expose you in public. He hastily leads you into the small cloaking room and shuts the door before pushing you against it and resuming the bruising kiss. Knowing people will quickly notice the disappearance of someone as notable as Jensen, you reach for his belt undoing it but not removing it. His hands slip up under the hem of your tight dress pushing it up to your waist. He teases his fingers over you through your thin lace undies.

“Already so wet for me, Baby. You need this as much as I do.”

“Please, stop teasing.”

With that he kneels down to slide the offending garment off of you and shoves them in his pocket. Now face level with your bare heat, he presses a kiss to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You moan out loudly before slapping a hand over your mouth.

“Gotta stay quiet for me, Baby. Don’t want someone coming in here.”

You nod and bite your lip as he goes in again, but this time he slides his tongue along your slit. He then slips two fingers in, down to his knuckle.

“So ready for me already. Even after all this time.”

You nod frantically, not trusting yourself to not be too loud. He stands up and kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You reach down to undo the button and zip of his dress pants. He’s quick to push them down to his knees.

“I need you,” you breathe out.

“I know, me too.” He squeezes your ass and you jump up wrapping your legs around his waist as he presses your back against the door. As he distracts you with another deep kiss he reaches down and teases himself against your folds a few times before sliding inside. He gives you a little time to adjust to his intrusion before setting a quick pace. Right now you both just need a release. He’ll worship your body and make slow love to you once you’re in the comfort of his apartment, but for now he just wants to make you cum.

He kisses down your neck as he continues his torturous pace. You feel him start to twitch inside you, so you squeeze your walls against him. Knowing he won’t last much longer he reaches a hand down to rub quick circles on your clit. You throw your head back against the door as you feel that rope inside you snapping. As he feels you squeezing and cumming around him he kisses you to muffle your moans and helps you ride it out before filling you up.

You stay like that for a few seconds while you both catch your breath and then he carefully sets your feet back on the floor. He pulls his pants and boxers back up and secures his belt before handing you back your underwear.

“Meet me back out there in five minutes. We’re saying goodnight to everyone and then going home for round two.”

You smile at him completely blissed out still but you try to compose yourself. You slip your underwear back on and straighten your dress back down over your thighs before running your hands through your hair. You search for a mirror to check your makeup and tidy it up before finally joining him back in the main room. The second you’re close enough he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close. You do a round of the room as he chats to everyone and thanks them for a good season and wishes them a merry Christmas. Once you make it back to the entrance he leads you back out the foyer, you collect your coats and then he speeds back to his apartment as safely as possible.

[theladyofbloodshed]

You're The Closest To Heaven I'll Ever Be - Chapter 8

The queens had finally decided to reply. Cassian brandished the letter that arrived in the waning minutes of his guard duty at the mortal manor before Mor retrieved him. They had already claimed the orb from the Hewn City without Keir even realising the item had been taken. While they prepared for the event, Azriel could barely look at Rhys or Feyre. They were mated. Mated and sickeningly happy. Each time an errant shadow returned from haunting the mortal manor, Azriel’s chest felt like it was caving in. Rhys had pulled him off sentry duty and directed him to other tasks which meant he could not glimpse Nesta.

On a chair by the window in his room, Azriel sharpened the Illyrian steel he’d take with him in the morning beyond the Wall. With Rhys’ low rumble seeping through the wall and Feyre’s giggles, he debated driving the blade through his heart or jumping from the window. He was happy for his brother. He truly was. He wished he didn’t have to hear it though.

A nervous anticipation had his heart trembling at the thought of returning to the mortal manor. It had been three weeks since Azriel had fled the garden in a panic. In his mind, he’d played out a thousand different outcomes, thought of a hundred different ways to apologise and talk to Nesta on the return. He knew it was impossible. There would be no opportunity to pull Nesta aside and hold a conversation with her, not with the eyes of their families on them or the impending visit of the queens. And yet, Azriel couldn’t help himself from dreaming of it.

His shadows only encouraged his fantasies. Since the first wayward one had skulked back to him, more had taken it upon themselves to take a trip to visit Nesta Archeron like a rare artefact that could be examined. Each one reported back to him, no matter how many times Azriel insisted he did not need, nor want, intel on her. So far, he had learnt that she only dolloped honey in her tea if nobody else was around, she also kicked off her shoes and sprawled out on her bed often during the day when she was alone, and sneezed in the vicinity of flowers so sat the furthest distance from Elain’s vases as she could. Azriel did not know why they thought he needed to know any of it.

As if summoned, one shadow slithered beneath the door and another flowed straight through the wood. They curled around him, a little guilty perhaps that they had wandered off and left him.

Missed her.

‘You’d have seen her in the morning if you had stayed with me like I told you to.’

Beautiful.

Azriel swallowed. Yes, she was. But his shadows didn’t tend to notice these sorts of things. They saw only a person – mortal or fae – and nothing particularly distinguishable about them. They carried whispers of this mortal female’s beauty often. One shadow pestered him, blotting his view of the knife he was trying to sharpen until he relented, ‘Yes, she is very beautiful.’

It slunk away and curled up in a ball, content with his answer.

He continued running the whetstone down the blade, concentrating on that rather than the rhythmic knock of a headboard the other side of the wall. The other one nestled closer to his skin and began whispering in his ear all about its time in the mortal manor – all three days that it had disappeared for.

Azriel jumped up from his seat. ‘I do not need to know about her underwear or lack of at night. I do not.’

But he couldn’t deny that the image had come to him of Nesta, hair unbound, in a cream slip that hugged every curve, all thanks to his shadow’s murmurings.

It was going to be a long night.

***

Nesta had been living off of borrowed sleep, stealing an hour here or there to get her through each day. Elain did not struggle like she did. No, every night when they bedded down together, Elain fell asleep as soon as their voices ebbed while Nesta remained wide awake beside her. Their staff departed at night, leaving them utterly alone. Although a guard was supposed to remain from the faeries, Nesta did not want to be complacent with their offer. As a result, sleep rarely walked with her. Sometimes, she’d curl up on the bed in the afternoons when the house grew quiet to snatch an hour that only ever left her feeling disorientated and desperate for more. When Nesta did wake from her naps, a shadow or two would be tucked up with her. They were prone to hiding from others, which she understood, but surely Elain could see them too? For a reason she did not know, Nesta had not told Elain about the presence of the shadows. They did no harm. They simply liked to huddle beside her as she read or they’d chase each other around the bedroom while she readied herself for sleep.

Elain would likely not notice them besides. Her heart was filled only with thoughts of Graysen. She had returned home a few days earlier from a spontaneous trip to town, after insisting she did not need Mrs. Lawrence, with a glow about her. Nesta knew the moment she saw her, flushed and slightly bedraggled, what had occurred. The location was more of a secret. She hoped it was not in a barn like Feyre. And she sorely hoped Elain took precautions. The last thing the family needed was a scandal from both of her younger sisters.

Nesta rubbed at her eyes. She’d always despised her dull, grey ones. They reminded her too much of her mother. Her whole face was too similar to her mother’s. As if sensing her dismay, a shadow wrapped itself over her eyes like a blindfold.

‘A rather fetching look, I imagine.’

She did not know if they were the same ones that kept coming to her, whether it was all one entity, or an extension of the faerie man who she had helped to climb through the window. All Nesta knew was that one particular shadow took great delight in trying to tease out laughs from her. It usually achieved it through tickling.

It sloped towards her neck.

‘Do not,’ she warned, staring into the mirror at it.

The cold caress of the shadow had her hunching her shoulders and fighting away a jittery laugh. ‘Stop.’

It continued its torture until Nesta was giggling and trying to waft it away.

A sudden knock at the door jolted them both into stillness.

‘Nesta? Who are you talking to?’

Nesta pointed a finger at the shadow then whispered, ‘You see? You’ll have us both in trouble.’

A moment later, Elain swept into the room; the shadow had vanished.

‘Oh. I thought somebody else was in here.’

She made a show of looking around the bland bedroom. ‘Who would I possibly have in my bedroom?’

Even as she said the words, colour rose up her neck. Indeed, who would Nesta ever have in her bedroom? She had succeeded in chasing away any suitors keen to receive a hefty dowry – with the exception of Mr Dunne, but he had not visited since her verbal take down of him.

‘We ought to wait for Feyre and the others,’ urged Elain.

What she meant was that she needed Nesta as her shield to prepare for the arrival of queens and faeries. It ought to be something from a fairytale, Nesta thought as they hurried down the stairs and did a final sweep of the house. It was also meticulously tidy thanks to the staff, but Nesta had given them a day off in celebration of May Day so they could spend it in the village dancing around the Maypole with their families or drinking until sundown for all she cared.

Spring had finally dawned so more and more flowers had pierced through the hard soil that winter brought, making the garden truly come alive.

‘You have done a wonderful job with your planting,’ she acknowledged.

Elain, from her post by the adjacent window, gave a proud smile in response.

It did not take long for a quiet knock at the door. Elain looked to Nesta to open it, which she did. Her eyes blurred and refused to focus. Faintly she could make out bulky outlines that shimmered and disappeared as she stared. Under some sort of faerie spell, her sister and her winged companions could not be truly seen. Nesta held open the door for a time, until her eyes could focus on the spot on the step, knowing they had passed through the threshold.

When she closed the door and turned, she was faced with two winged men, her sister, a blonde woman, and the high lord himself.

‘You’re late,’ she said by way of greeting.

She saw the pinched expression of the blonde woman, but Rhysand cut in smoothly with, ‘Examining the Wall and the wards for safety.’

A terse silence followed before Nesta turned on her heel to stride back towards the lounge. Elain greeted Feyre then gave a polite greeting to the others too.

‘Would you like tea?’

Out of their own politeness, they agreed a tea would be nice, but the bulkiest one – the irritating one – flopped down onto the couch and announced, ‘I’d prefer whiskey, but tea will do.’

The blonde woman, Morrigan, joined him and gave a tittering laugh.

‘I will make it,’ said Nesta, before striding back from the room.

She hated these faeries in her house, hated them settling in like it was a home – a place they could get used to. Feyre had hunted for them so they could survive but it was always held over their heads – over Nesta’s head. Chop wood because I caught dinner. Fill the bath because I’m dirty from hunting. Go into town and sell the pelts because I skinned them. Perhaps if their Father had loved them more, he might have done something. Perhaps if Elain realised she was capable of helping, the leftover tasks wouldn’t have fallen solely on Nesta’s shoulders. Feyre would strong-arm them into anything involving these faeries thanks to the debt they owed for hunting. Nesta hated anything to do with them. Faeries were vicious creatures who stole mortals, who had them dance until they died for entertainment, who had them eat poisoned fruit that turned them mad.

A floorboard gave a groan so her head whipped around from the stove. There was nothing in her view, not even the strange blurring that she had grown accustomed to from the faeries when they used their siphons to disappear.

She gave a sigh and turned back to the copper kettle, hoping that it wouldn’t ever boil so she wouldn’t have to endure this meeting with the spiteful queens of the Continent.

A shadow swooped into the room and caressed her hand.

‘Oh, hello,’ she said quietly.

It looped and looped around her arm until it settled on her shoulder, watching the kettle too. As if sensing her unease, the shadow nestled against her neck, the cold kiss of it welcome.

Another shadow had appeared in the cupboard, surprising her when she pulled open the door to retrieve cups and saucers. For Feyre’s sweet tooth that they so rarely got to indulge, Nesta piled up honeyed oat biscuits onto a saucer too. One of the shadows peered at them.

‘I’m not sure if you can eat, but they’re very nice. The cook is very good.’

A third shadow had appeared and Nesta thought if she did not leave the kitchen soon, she’d be overrun with them. Not that she would mind. Their silent, tactile company was becoming a steadfast companion to her.

‘You will be with me?’

 The shadow on her neck burrowed closer until it was practically diving beneath the neckline of her dress, making her chortle with laughter from the chill and unexpectedness.

‘You’ll hide in my bodice! I daresay we will cause a scandal.’

Nesta lifted the tray and moved to exit the room. As she expected, the remaining two shadows followed at her heels like dutiful hounds. When she rounded the corner into the corridor, she had a fright that made her nearly drop the tray.

A scarred hand shot out to brace beneath it so Nesta could regain her grip on the handles. Her eyes flared.

‘Were you spying on me?’

‘It is my duty, if we are honest,’ Azriel replied in a quiet, almost hesitant voice, ‘but no. Not today. You were a while and I was sent to see if you needed assistance.’

‘Oh.’

She could not muster a more substantial reply. Faced with his height, sprawl of leathery wings, and devastatingly beautiful face, words seemed of no consequence.  

‘I have something for you,’ he said. The words came out hurried, as if he bolstered his confidence to spit them out before he could talk himself out of it.

From a pocket, he brought out a bound book with golden letters painted on the leather. The edges looked as if they were painted with starlight.

‘It is a faerie book. But enjoyable. If you grow tired of reading your father’s ledgers.’

Her intrigue was piqued. ‘Do you read?’

‘Admittedly, no. Although the book seller assured me it was popular.’  

This wasn’t a well-loved book that he had plucked from the shelf before departing; Azriel had specifically gone out of his way to purchase it for her.

‘Thank you,’ replied Nesta, voice thick. ‘I shall be sure to provide a full review upon completion.’

‘Please, let me carry the tray.’

They made an awkward show of haphazardly trying to pass the heavy tray and book between themselves, made worse by his reluctance to show his scars. Shadows wafted like mist over his skin and Nesta could not tell if she was touching them or his fingers as the tray exchanged hands.

The corridor seemed to tremble under heavy boots. ‘Have you two got lost?’

Cassian’s giant figure swallowed all of the space in the corridor. Azriel swept his head low, gesturing for Nesta to walk ahead. She kept the book pressed to her chest as she returned to face the mortal queens.

[byler-makemewanttobelieveitsokay]

Fic - Chapter Three

I apologise for the lack of updates recently. I've been super busy.

Chapter 1

Prev

Current Comic update

March 22nd

"Happy Birthday dear Will! Happy Birthday to you!" The mottled choir finishes its song with a swell of emotion. Robin Buckley, co-founder and Co President of Hawkins High Pride, pats a mildly embarrassed Will Byers on the back.

Robin’s insanely cool. She's a loud, talkative senior, and one of Jonathan's friends from drama class. She also seems weirdly bonded with Steve Harrington, which Will finds odd, but Robin assures him Steve is nice. He thinks he'll take Robin’s word for it.

"How can you be 15 baby Byers?" She asks, a nostalgic grin across her freckled face. Robin’s girlfriend, Vickie, ruffles his hair.

"Seems like only yesterday we blackmailed Troy Walsh into leaving you alone in the sandbox. My God, that was back in Elementary School!" 

Vickie grimaces, as if to say, Jesus I'm old. Robin whacks her on the arm.

"You're an old lady!" She teases Vickie, that evil glint in her honey eyes.

"Are you into old ladies Rob?" Asks Will, wiggling his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive fashion. 

Vickie roars with laughter at the sudden flush of colour on her girlfriend's face. Before this interesting situation can escalate any further, Eddie Munson, the slightly intimidating, but hilariously clumsy, other co-president and founder, spills a full 2 litre bottle of Fanta into a bowl of doritos. Everyone in the small group descends into chaos as they attempt to sort out the bowl of soggy corn chips.

"Okay everyone! Stay safe, I hope everyone had a good spring break and–" Robin cuts herself off before she can start rambling. She's not very accustomed to being the centre of attention, she's just starting to gain her confidence. Her autism and adhd can make her a bit rambly sometimes too. Eddie Munson takes over, he's more used to being in the spotlight than Robin.

"We'll see you next week!" He grins and waves as the handful of students file out of the classroom. 

There weren't as many kids at Hawkins Pride today -not that there were usually more than fifteen anyway- but the seniors were only kids back at school today. To be completely honest, Will wouldn't have come today either if Jonathan and El didn't have things on at school this afternoon too. 

Jonathan's photography club won't be finished for another fifteen minutes so Will wanders in the direction of the gym. El's there with the Captain of the Cheer team, Chrissy Cunningham.

Chrissy, despite being popular, seems nice. She's offered her afternoon to give El extra coaching for the cheer team. Will won't lie, he was surprised when El decided to try out for the cheerleading team. But so far, she's loving it. Will keeps finding her practising tumbles and jumps and God knows what other crazy tricks in her room.

He shoves the door to the gym open. El and Chrissy are in the centre of the gym with a gymnastics mat. El holds up a pom-pom and waves at him as Will takes a seat on the bleachers. He'll let them finish off whatever cheer stuff they're doing over there. He pulls out his sketchbook and begins drawing what he sees. El in her cheerleading top and black leggings, her hair pulled back into a bun.

Chrissy does some flippy thing, her blonde ponytail twirling around in the air. Will giggles a bit when El attempts to copy, but ultimately mucks up the landing and falls on her ass. Before he can yell out and ask her if she’s okay, Chrissy’s helping her up once more.

***

“You pair ready for school?” Asks Hop. He surveys the twins. El’s hair isn’t done, and she’s missing a sock. Will only has one shoe on and his backpack seems to have gone walkabouts. Both have scarlet blood dripping from opposite nostrils. There’s cushions hovering next to El and gold sparks flickering around Will’s fingertips.

Jonathan wanders in, ready to leave, his keys dangling in his fingers. El and Will watch as an eyebrow climbs its way up his forehead. The cushions fall to the floor with a soft thud and the sparks disappear with a crackle.

“What on earth are you both doing?”

“Friendly disagreement!” Will quickly supplies, an explanation would send them down a rabbit hole.

“Super friendly!” El agrees, nodding hastily.

Jonathan’s not sure he’ll ever get used to the wacko antics his siblings get up to. It was weird enough gaining a half-sister, let alone one with superpowers. And then, as if that wasn’t enough to process, his little brother can electrocute people with nothing but determination. Yep, it was official, Jonathan Byers was no longer the weirdest in the family. Damn it, he’d loved that title, so typical of the twins to steal it from him!

“Hurry up!” Jonathan threatens as he ushers Hopper outside. Will and El’s nonsense can’t cause the entire household to be late. Some family members have, like, actual jobs that they need to be on time for. 

He stops back in the kitchen to shepard El away from the Eggos and again in Will’s doorway to remind him that no– he doesn’t have time to get his paints out, not if he wants to bike to school with the rest of his friends. He loves the twins– really, he does, but they do seem to have inherited Joyce’s slightly scattered tendencies. They do manage to get out the door on time though, and Jonathan waves to them from his car. He watches that they meet Max at the end of their street, then makes his own way to Argyle’s place.

Meanwhile El greets Max with her usual running hug, yelling Max’s name from about half a street away. Will just laughs. They’re just so cute, the best of friends. 

Will and Max strike up a conversation as El swaps shoes from her white converse to her favourite purple roller skates.

“So… Mike’s starting today?” Will asks, and really, truly, he’s trying to sound casual. It doesn’t help that he and Mike got along so well at the park the other day. He can’t help it, okay? Mike is the definition of good looking and he’s Will’s estranged best friend. What more could you want?

Unfortunately for Will, Max is blind, not deaf. She hears the excitement in Will’s tone and shoots him a coy, lopsided smile. Will groans internally. Why are girls such scheming little terrors?

“Yeah that’s right! 

El subtly steadies herself with her powers, clutching onto Max's arm and she wobbles about on the stopper of one skate. When she regains composure, and ceases to resemble Bambi on ice, the three race onwards, speeding towards Dustin’s Street.

As Will pedals, they pass Hawkins Laboratory, or at least the skeleton of it. He shudders lightly, remembering his God awful stay there as a twelve year old. The scar on the inside of his wrist tingles as they pass the perimeter quickly. Will steals a brief glance at El to check she's alright, but El seems to have flown ahead on her skates. 

Bother her! Will thinks as he stands up on his bike to accelerate faster. Max enjoys zooming down the road, not too fast, but not slow enough that she'll lose the race to Dustin’s place.

They reach the Henderson's in record time, four minutes from the Hopper/Byers house. El has the most shit eating grin on her face as Will catches up to her, waiting outside Dustin’s house.

"I won!" 

It's then that Will spies the bright red drop threatening to spill from El's nostril. He knew it! She was cheating! El gives him a cheeky wink, which plainly says "welp, you put the idea in my head. No take backs!" 

Dustin’s front door opens and the man himself emerges.

Will takes a moment to assess Dustin’s appearance. His hair is standing on end and the sleeves of his jumper are rather singed. It looks like he's stuck his fingers in a powerpoint. El vocalises this, giving Will a playfully accusational glare.

"You know it wasn't my powers, I was with you the whole morning!"

"I wasn't with you when you lost the race!"

Dustin cackles, almost rolling on the floor. Will honestly wouldn't be surprised if it turned out Dustin was descended from a family of hyenas. He's basically the meme guy of the group. Will's pretty sure Dustin's sent more Tiktoks to the group chat than El has posted pictures of eggos to her instagram. (Half of them aren't even good photos. She usually forgets not to devour half a waffle before she takes the picture.)

"Oh man! Nah I can't– Oh Jesus– El you're hilarious–" Dustin leans himself against a wall trying to breathe. Max rolls her pale white eyes. Her bemused face hasn't changed a bit.

"Ya' know Dustin, this is probably the first time in my life I actually wanna see you!"

After learning that Dustin was attempting to invent a phone charger that ran on potato peels, Dustin had jumped on his bike and they hurried over to Lucas's. 

Lucas is waiting outside his place, already on his bike. His green and orange basketball uniform can be seen poking out of his duffle bag. He greets everyone with a wave and his giant friendly grin. Except Max– She holds her hands out making a grabbing motion. Lucas plops his face into her hands and lets Max feel his face and hair.

"You got a haircut!" She exclaims as they pedal or skate slowly toward Mike's house.

The house looks just like it did in Will’s vague memories. Old, probably built in the seventies, maybe earlier. Two stories and decent size, a home built for a family. 

"It could be a bit of a wait." Dustin warns Will. Everyone dumps their bikes and skateboards to sit on the curb. "His dad's kinda… unhelpful."

Not necessarily a family home anymore, from what he’s been told. Mike doesn’t seem to get on with his dad very well. That’s weirdly relatable to Will. His real dad, Hop, is perfectly fine, he loves Will, El and Jonathan so much it can actually be a little unbearable, but Lonnie? 

Lonnie Byers was an asshole, and Will’s glad he’s pissed off to Indianapolis.  

From somewhere inside the house, loud music’s playing. Will recognises the song as Fight for your Right by The Beastie Boys. He giggles a little– what a random song to be blasting at 8:30 on a Thursday morning. Out of the corner of Will's eye, he notices Dustin sneaking up behind Lucas.

There's a loud SLAP noise, then…

"I like ya cut G!"

Lucas turns around to glare at Dustin. He gives him the most deadpan, unamused stare that Will's ever seen.

"I actually hate you." 

Dustin sits down between El and Lucas. His shit eating grin says it all.

"Nah, you actually don't."

There's a shout from somewhere inside the house and the music switches off. Heavy footsteps sound and the front door bangs open and closed. There stands Mike, his hair pulled back into a ponytail. Off his arm hangs a small girl. Her hair is blonde and in two pigtails and she appears to be wearing an Elsa t-shirt. She looks mildly terrified.

Mike stands at his door and quickly raises his middle finger. Then he looks down to the little girl– presumably his sister, Holly –and apologises. Then he joins everyone else at the curb.

"One– Sorry, dad's a dick! Two– hey everyone! Three– Will, Jane, this is my sister Holly." 

Holly waves her hand rapidly at the twins, so fast Will’s half afraid it’ll fly off. She then point to the top of her head.

"Cat!" She exclaims, gesturing to a pair of pink glittery cat ears. Then she runs over to Max, meowing as she trots. Will bites back a chuckle. Kids will be kids.

"Um. Yeah. She's going through a cat phase." Mike explains hastily. He looks really awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. El wraps her arms around Mike's waist and pulls him in for one of her death hugs. Will swears he sees Mike go blue before El finally lets go of him. One of these days she’s going to make someone pass out from a lack of oxygen.

"Hi!" Says Will softly as Mike wheels a fancy looking bike out from the garage.

Mike beams back at Will. His smile could light up this whole town.

"Hi!" He echos.

***

"So Will, tell me: is there anything about Hawkins High that I oughtta know?"

They're walking leisurely down the hall. Will's been instructed to just walk about with Mike, show him around from a student's perspective. He contemplates Mike's question. Hawkins High is pretty standard honestly. Nothing out of the ordinary. There are plenty of assholes, this is Indiana after all.

"Well… There's mean girls and rude jocks. Lucas and Jane could give you a pretty good run down of them." 

"Jane gets bullied? But she seems so… happy?" Mike has a look of utter disbelief on his face.

Will shrugs. That’s El’s way of coping, she balances out the negativity by being super positive and nice to everyone all the time. Not at home though, at home she’s a menace. Still excitable, but she looks a whole lot less innocent when she’s playing pop music obnoxiously loud and wearing Will’s favourite flannel like it’s her own. 

That’s probably just a sibling thing though.

"She's on the cheer team. Most of the girls are nice… Angela Darwin though…" Will trails off.

Mike's eyes widen. He most definitely knows Angela Darwin. Her days as Queen of Hawkins Grammar School still haunt Mike. Her fake nice voice. The way she would casually give Max flack for not having much money. Her stupid walk.

"That bitch? Is she still strutting around like a peacock with a pencil up her ass?" 

Will bursts into a fit of laughter. He pictures Angela’s face atop a peacock's body. This is definitely something he has to draw later. He might even watercolour it! 

"Bro the mental images–" He manages to say between loud sniggers.

Mike, who'd been doing a fairly decent job of keeping a straight face, smirks. When he meets Will's eyes, all composure dissolves and they're basically leaning on each other laughing.

When they finally regain the ability to look at each other without cackling, Will continues to tell Mike about El's experience on the cheer team.

"She joined up last term. I was sceptical, but most of the girls are really nice. Team captain is Chrissy Cunningham, and then there's Jennifer Hayes, Ruby Schwartz, Delilah and Amelia Ashfeild and Trinity Jacobsen."

Mike nods. He can't think of anything else to say right now… his brain's still stuck on Angela the Peacock.

He’s silent for a beat, then Mike's lips part into a mischievous grin. He quietly snickers, stealing glances at Will waiting to make eye contact. When Will catches his eye, he too snickers, correctly guessing that Mike's still picturing a feathered Angela Darwin. Together they erupt into another fit of giggles. (And Will calls Dustin a hyena!)

The boys keep laughing, not hearing a classroom door creak open. They don’t hear the soft thud of footsteps, they keep laughing, leaning against each other until Will catches the sharp “Ahem” coming from possibly the most grumpy teacher in all of Hawkins High School.

He looks up from where he’d buried his face into Mike’s shoulder and straight into the eyes of Mr Durham, the Algebra teacher who reeks of coffee and hates Will’s entire existence for some reason. (Probably because of that one time he made Will cry in class and promptly got a full Hopper family ‘talking to’.) His face, if possible, looks even grumpier than usual.

“Byers! What the HELL do you think you’re doing?” 

Will swallows hard. Usually he’d just mumble an apology and be on his way, but Eddie’s been bugging him to stand up for himself more, and Jonathan’s given him plenty of pep talks about this guy. He takes a deep breath and tries to find some confidence within him.

“Leave him alone! He was just showing me around!” Mike spits, before Will can think of something to say. Mike’s eyes are narrowed and his hands are on his hips. He looks like he means business. Will gets a strange feeling of deja vu, he’s definitely seen this look on Mike before, somewhere inside his fractured memories of kindergarten.

“Well, well, well, Michael Wheeler! Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here!” Mr Durham spits. 

Why on earth does he sound like a cartoon villain? Will can picture him in a mask and elaborate black costume, actually. (Now he’s got another caricature to draw!)

“I didn't think you were still allowed to teach, after what you said to me and Will, but here we are!" Mike retorts.

Mr Durham's face contorts to look even more angry. Will hadn't thought it was possible to get that mad, honestly. He's surprised there isn't a scribbled cloud over the teacher's head. He seems to take Mike's words as a challenge.

"Well, it looks like I was right! Look at the two of you, cutting class together. You pair of f–"

"Finish that sentence and I'll make sure you get fired!" 

"Yeah! Homophobia ain't cool brochacho!" 

Mike and Will whip around to see Jonathan and his strange friend Argyle standing just outside the opened classroom door. Jonathan's angry face strongly resembles Joyce's, to the point where Will's almost certain it is his Mom standing there. Argyle looks high as a kite, but still protective, in his own quirky way.

"Ah! Jonathan Byers–"

"Don't call me that name. I've told you a million times it's Hopper now."

Mr Durham closes his eyes and sighs in frustration. Will really hates this teacher. He acts like it's a personal attack that he and Jonathan don't want to have anything to do with Lonnie Byers.

"Okay then Hopper, why don't we all just go back to where we should be." The sarcasm that drips from Mr Durham's voice sends chills down Will’s spine. He's so–

Will doesn't even know what!

"That," Jonathan says, his tone low and warning, "sounds like the best idea you've had all day!" 

Mr Durham gives Will and Mike one last awful scowl, then marches back into his classroom. Jonathan shoots Will a wink and reluctantly follows his grumpy teacher back inside. Argyle waves his whole arm at Will and Mike, yelling:

"See ya, my dudes!" 

Will chuckles and waves back. That's Argyle for ya. He then turns back to Mike, who looks pretty frustrated still.

"We should probably get out of here." 

"No arguments from me!" Mike agrees.

Will runs down the hall, to the staircase, gesturing for Mike to follow him. Mike's rather un-athletic run is pretty amusing to be honest. When Mike catches up to him, Will perches on the handrail and slides down.

Mike lets out a laugh, some of his anger fading. He slides down in a similar manner, then follows Will outside into the school yard.

***

Will covers his ears when the school bell clangs at recess. (It’s so noisy, and for what?) He shows Mike a spot under a shady tree. It’s in close proximity to the assisted learning block, which is useful for Max, it means she doesn’t have to walk too far, and can just use her cane and not have to have someone guide her. 

El likes being outside in nature, to feel the sun and hear the birds, she missed out on a lot of that, being trapped in the lab. Sometimes she’ll just lie there under the shade of the tree and rest. It’s probably the only time she’s not moving. She loves the feel of the grass on her skin, even if it makes her itchy afterwards. 

Dustin likes that it’s secluded enough that he can show everyone tiktoks without getting into trouble for the volume or language. He can sing to himself and nerd out about his current fandoms without getting heaps of negative attention. Mostly he tells a bunch of horrible puns. Only El laughs at them, Will’s a little concerned that Dustin’s corrupting her sense of humour.

Lucas likes that there’s space for him to run around the tree without stepping on anyone. He’s the most sporty out of the group, with Max at a close second. Lucas never could sit still, in the entire time Will’s known him, Lucas has always wanted to just run. That was part of what made his parents suspect he had ADHD. Now he’s on medication the urge to run isn’t as strong, but he likes having the freedom to do so anyway.

And Will? He loves the beauty of the spot. In the fall when the leaves turn orange and red. In the winter when snowflakes fall soft on the exposed branches of the tree. And now in spring, when the tree is covered in flower buds and the sun shines its golden rays through the gaps, bathing everything in warmth. He loves to sit and sketch the landscape, or his friends in the aesthetic lighting. 

Will has a feeling Mike’s gonna like it here too.

[mindsmade]

@pixieblooded​

     ❛  Oh, this is bad. I ... should not have done this.  ❜

[luveline]

mouth of september, part 4 | sirius black x reader

"What's so funny, hufflepuff?" Sirius asks, pushing himself up properly. Remus groans as a sharp elbow catches him in the stomach and flops forward.

"Same thing you two find so hilarious over there," James says impishly.

Both boys laugh. "I doubt that," Sirius says.

summary some things change and some things don’t warnings reader has suicidal thoughts/suicidal ideation, marauder friendship heavy, fem reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, angst, hurt/comfort

read part one | two | three | four here

The entire flat is silent. White light streams in through the window, dust motes drifting through rays, bouncing between the blinds and swirling when you breathe out. You blow them away from his face gently, careful not to disturb the dark eyelashes dusting the skin of his under eye.

His chest rises and falls. Your eyes follow. He looks pretty like this, peaceful. You've come to know his face well since moving in together, come to know his voice better. You hear it sometimes when he's not talking, turn around fast and find nothing but stale air.

You lift up from the sheets, push his down-filled duvet off your sweaty body. It's heavy. You like the pressure of it on bad days, and you're pretty sure it’s the only reason he keeps it, having heard him complain over the breakfast table when you're not there about spare feathers in his shoes.

The rug next to his bed is soft under your feet. You sink into it like a small bug sinks into dewdrops, all at once. You're reluctant to leave the softness behind as you pick through the room on light footing. His door opens without a sound as you pull the brass door knob. You take a last pensive look in his direction and shake it off, trekking down the grey hallway and into the greyer kitchen.

Remus is sitting at the small kitchen table with two cups of tea. You don't know how he knows when you're awake, but he almost always has a cup of tea waiting for you. You also don't know how to say thank you properly, feeling the words stick in your throat. Dewdrops, you think, sitting down in the opposite chair with one leg tucked underneath you. Everything's dewdrops and I'm the tiny insect getting stuck.

"You shouldn't keep sleeping with him," Remus says, never one for preamble.

You nod into your cup of tea. He sighs, flattening the daily prophet out for you to read upside down. This is a familiar routine, and you've become adept at it. "Nothing interesting ever transpires in the wizarding world," Sirius had once complained.

Remus had been quick to set him straight. "Nothing interesting ever happens to you. As of Wednesday,” he’d read from the paper, “I'm officially banned from teaching young children."

Sirius had winced and apologised.

You look up at your friend and feel a weight so heavy you worry you'll get crushed underneath it. You can't help but think he would have made an excellent teacher. He doesn't have the choice anymore. He doesn't seem to have many choices in general.

"What are you thinking?" he asks.

Not wanting to admit it had been pity on his behalf, you sigh and dip your finger in your tea. His nose wrinkles in response. You lick the drop of tepid tea from the pad of your finger and laugh a little as he rolls his eyes. Your laughter relaxes him, indicative of the kind of state of mind you woke up with.

"About work?"

You shook your head and sighed again, a dramatic, morose thing for his benefit. "About James."

"Why don't you just… tell him you miss him?"

For a while the four of you had lived together, and then James had run off with darling Lily and started their ridiculous, cushy, envy-inducing life together in a small cottage full of books and pin-cushions and wine. You didn't begrudge him but you did miss him. Remus and Sirius both knew you were taking it hard, though you tried your best not to show it. After all, they'd known him longer. What right did you have to be upset?

"How about instead of feeling mad with yourself for being upset about his leaving, you could just be upset, yeah?" Remus had suggested. "Be sad about things that make you sad. Save the shame for something else."

You snort to yourself, thinking back. You always have enough shame to go around.

You clear your throat, try for nonchalance. "I dunno. Bit awkward to tell someone with a girlfriend you miss him."

"His girlfriend loves you," Remus says pointedly. "In case you forgot."

How could you? Lily never left you alone. In a good way.

Remus looks at you and you know he knows you're hiding behind Lily, and really you're afraid of the possibility that James would be annoyed by you. Or maybe he's just got something in his eye, you think to yourself hopefully, and my embarrassment remains my own.

"He does miss you. 'Course he does," Remus says.

You shrug again and pick at the table's wood grain. Remus takes a ridiculously overperformed sip of his tea and you take the hint to drink your own.

"What are you doing today?" you ask him.

"I'm all yours, sweetheart," he says.

He's being especially nice this morning because he thinks you're getting down again. You are, but you hate that he can tell.

It's Saturday. Saturday's suck. Sirius tries to shepherd you every place, tries to get you in library book clubs and singles nights and, once, a pottery class. All you want to do is lie in bed, although that's not unusual for you. You want to spend this Saturday feeling down for yourself in bed but you know neither of your roommates are going to let that happen, so you have to get your opinion in before someone suggests an outing.

"I want popcorn," you say slowly, picking and picking.

Remus flattens his hand over yours to stop you from ruining the table completely and smiles. "I can get you popcorn."

"And I want to watch Three Days of the Condor," you say.

Remus groans and tips his head back, throat bobbing as he swallows. He collects himself and stands up. "You got it, bub."

You rally in your small victory and finish your tea. He hates Three Days of Condor.

Sirius emerges, nose chasing the smell of fried eggy bread. Remus plates up yours first and Sirius, standing in the doorway, complains.

"That's blatant favouritism."

"It is," Remus agrees, nodding. He soaks another piece of bread in the egg and drops it into the frying pan.

You poke at your food and ignore Sirius' pleading expression until you can't, cutting the bread in half. You push one half to the edge of your plate with your fork and press a finger against your lips. Sirius smiles excitedly and takes the bread between his fingers. Remus is none the wiser, until Sirius realises the bread is still very, very hot, dramatising his burn in a silent curse that makes you giggle.

Remus looks over his shoulder and his expression turns scolding. "Pads!"

"I'll give her half of mine!"

Remus frowns, concedes, muttering to himself, "You're lucky I don't give her all of yours."

You eat your breakfast. Remus gives Sirius his own eggy bread, where he follows your example and cuts it down the middle before pushing it onto your plate.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he says quietly. Remus' shoulders tense up in annoyance.

-

James shows up halfway through Three Days of Condor with a carrier bag of snacks and a second of cider.

You're so excited to see him you feel your chest tense up - you have missed him, terribly. It was such a shock to go from seeing someone who obviously loved you ridiculously every single day to sometimes only once a week. You try not not be embarrassingly obvious about it, though your smile is bigger than it has been for days.

He throws himself down into the empty sofa space next to you, slumped, turns to your side and says, "What have I missed?"

You beam at him. "Days one and two."

"Fuck," he says, running a hand through his thick hair. "Those are, like, the best ones."

You look back at the TV and see Remus in the corner of your eye, looking at you with a self-indulgent smile. He must've called James. You couldn't dislike him for it, even if he was a tattletale.

The movie goes on. Sirius helps himself to cider and James offers you one, to which you say no. You've been trying really hard not to block out being sad with other things, like drinking and escapism.

"She's still sober," Sirius says lightly.

"She's not sober," Remus disagrees, throwing his leg over Sirius and reaching for the bowl of popcorn in his hand. Sirius rolls his eyes. "Sober implies she was an alcoholic."

"Isn't there a word for it?" James asks.

"Straight edge," you joke, crossing your arms over your chest quickly and nodding, face solemn. The three boys laugh loudly, all of them surprised. You can't help smiling as well, pleased with yourself.

James rifles through the most important bag and offers you a bag of your favourite crisps. You gasp happily and open them. The first thing you do is offer one to him. He smiles and it looks a little forced as he takes one and you wonder if he even likes them or if he's just eating one to appease you. It works either way.

"So you're not turning to drink to deal with my departure?" he asks a little later when things have settled back down. Sirius and Remus are laughing in a bubble about some in-joke they won't tell anyone else. James is trying not to sulk about it.

"No sir," you say, raising your very much not alcoholic drink to your lips and missing the straw. He chuckles at your struggle and nudges it in the direction of your mouth.

"They don't leave you out, do they?" he asks. His voice is light but you know he's genuinely concerned.

"Nah, they only do this when you're around."

"I see, they're bullying me."

"Hazing."

"I've known them for almost nine years, idiot. The hazing was a long time ago, and with way more nudity."

You crunch on a crisp. "Odd to think you'd be the haze-ee. Rather than the hazer."

"Oh, I was the hazer. And I was a menace," he says. "Shaving foam and feathers and an anthill, the whole works."

You blink, half distracted by the movie. "An- an anthill?"

"You know, the artificial ones in glass. An ant farm."

"You hurt the ants?" you ask, turning to face him in disapproval.

"No! No, of course I didn't. Sirius, however, trod on a few."

"Sirius won't even catch my bathroom spiders," you whisper, offended.

"He cried for days," James whispers back, nodding.

"You're lying."

He leans in, dress shirt pressing into your bare arm. "When do I lie? He felt so terrible about it and I felt worse and the three of us spent hours trying to find them all. We had an ant farm in the dorm for a year before McGonagall told us we couldn't keep pets that weren't on the list. How's that fair? Frank gets a frog and we can't keep our ants?"

You giggle and he giggles worse, the infectious kind of laugh that took hold of you until you were pressing your fingers to your face and struggling to breathe.

"What's so funny, hufflepuff?" Sirius asks, pushing himself up properly. Remus groans as a sharp elbow catches him in the stomach and flops forward.

"Same thing you two find so hilarious over there," James says impishly.

Both boys laugh. "I doubt that," Sirius says.

"Something misogynist," you summarise, wiping mirthful tears from your lash line.

"Quite," James says.

"That's disgusting," Remus protests.

"Exactly what we thought!" James says, jostling your shoulders. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from their discrimination."

"My hero," you say, your eyes catching Sirius'. He smiles at you gently. You smile back.

Sirius and Remus go for a smoke. You've told them a million times it doesn't bother you and neither will listen, so they go stand on the front doorstep and flick ash into a little clay ashtray you made on a forced Saturday outing while James and yourself sit in the relative darkness of the living room, Three Days of Candor finished and put back into its box.

"Remus told me something," he says carefully.

"I bet he did," you mumble, sitting with your legs crossed and facing him on the sofa.

He angles his head to look at you, the kind of look that says don't be difficult.

You don't offer to speak and he sighs.

"It's not good for you," he says, words so careful you can feel how he says each one. It's as if he's stitched the air with thread, words neatly embroidered on an invisible canvas sheet, "to keep sleeping with him."

You relax. "Is that all it is?"

"Remus is saying the same thing to him, I'm sure," James says complacently.

"We're not fucking," you say, shy at the crude wording.

He shakes his head, puts his hand out. You take it and he squishes your fingers together tight enough that you can feel your bones grinding against one another.

"Remus gets too warm," you explain.

"You can sleep in your own bed."

"He asks me too!"

"I know," James says, dropping your hand in favour of a bag of mixed mini pretzels.

He leans back and holds one in his hand. You lean back too, and when he tosses one into the air you catch it in your mouth. "Way," he cheers, filling his own mouth. "Good job."

You chew, swallow, say, "I don't see why it's such a bad thing."

James shakes the bag until he finds what he's looking for.

"Because you like him," he says.

You steal the bag out of his hands and shove as many pretzels as you can into your mouth.

"You'll hurt your own feelings," he explains.

You chew.

"I just don't want to see you upset."

You nod and can't look at him.

-

The train station was packed as usual when you departed. James had cried three separate times on the way home, citing allergies. You sympathised with him - you would miss Hogwarts too. You would miss them. You knew exactly how distance could corrode friendship, especially as someone prone to isolation.

"Why so quiet?" Sirius asked you.

"I'll miss you," you said. "A lot."

He looked over his shoulder where James' mother had wrapped him in a hug, further still to Remus being squeezed to death by his father.

"I said I'd wait for the others before I asked," he sighed.

You wrinkled your nose. "What?"

His hand went into his pocket searchingly and pulled out a key with a yellow and black fob. It matched your tie.

He held it by the keyring in front of your face.

"It's for you," he said. "If you want it."

-

James flicks your knee and draws you from your memory.

"Earth to Y/N. Where'd you go?"

You swallow a lumpy mouthful of pretzel that had suddenly turned to chalk in your mouth. "Nowhere," you say hoarsely.

"Sure thing.” He looks over his shoulder. “Where have those two twits gone?"

"Best pick the next film before Remus does," you say, right as the door opens.

"God forbid we watch something I enjoy," Remus says, walking back into the room.

"Where's Pads?" James asks.

Frustration flits across his face. "Going out."

"Out? It's boy's night. Boys and Y/N night," James amends.

Remus rolls his eyes. "To see a bird."

"Misogyny," you whisper, feeling a little like someone has poured water over you.

"I'm not a misogynist," he says. "You're obsessed with my being sexist."

"You're obsessed with being sexist," James argues for you.

"This is genuinely defamation. I know you're bored now there's no one to play tricks on, James, but taking it out on me is uncouth at best and discrimination at worst," Remus says, sitting down heavily into the seat on your other side. The smaller sofa adjacent sits empty, depressed where Sirius and Remus had been curled together.

“I speak only the truth.”

Remus pulls you into his chest and covers one of your ears. "Don't listen to him," he says.

You let yourself sink into him, feeling the warmth he carries seep into your clothes.

"She knows exactly what you're like. Certainly doesn't need me to tell 'er,” James protests.

You keep silent, content as Remus' hand moves over your hair.

"Traitor," James mutters.

With gentle fingers carding through your hair like you're worth some  tenderness you find yourself unable to conjure any guilt. James gets up to change the movie and you let yourself cuddle closer to Remus, turning into his side.

He wraps his other arm around you in a firm hug, rubbing your back. His hand is fast over your skin. He smells clean and his clothes are pressed, ironed because he's a nerd who cares a lot about everything. The hug makes you feel your ribs in your chest and your breath as it leaves you, but you enjoy that. It’s very grounding.

After a moment he loosens his grip and moves his arm over your shoulders amicably. You let your neck rest against his forearm and smile to yourself, thinking about how nice it is to be loved for nothing.

Sirius ducks his head through the door now dressed very smartly, hair piled up into a ponytail.

"I'm going now," he says.

You and Remus turn to him with twin smiles and wave him off. James lobs a pretzel at him and tells him to come home before dark, charlatan. The snack hits him in the lip. He doesn’t even flinch.

-

Night time is much harder than day time. It always has been and always will be - company is distraction, and no one keeps you company at night unless you’re hiding under someone else’s sheets.

You and Sirius really aren’t fucking - the opposite. He seems content to fuck every elligble witch in Great Britain (that isn’t you) and you’re content to let him with no fuss. You tend to haunt the living room in the dark. When he’s home, he shepherds you into his bedroom like a lost puppy.

“What’re you sitting in here all alone for?” he asks.

He’s absent tonight. James had cursed him for being a dickhead, cursed himself for worrying, and then gone home. Remus had checked on you more times than anyone really should before he’d also gone to bed with a cup of herbal tea. Are you sure you don’t want one, sweetheart?

Sweetheart sweetheart sweetheart.

The word rings through your head. You imagine your brain as a small metal bell that’s been struck over and over, feeling the reverberations in your teeth. Too tired to panic you pull the blanket over your face and hide.

You toss and turn for a while, hours, back aching and eyes dry. You grow frustrated and abandon your bare room to seek refuge in the kitchen. You grab a flannel on the way out from the pile of clean clothes you’ve yet to put away - not that you’re in the habit - and creep past Remus’ room, down the hall and into the small kitchen you share.

You run the hot tap, waiting for the water to warm. When steam clouds from the water you hold your flannel underneath the stream until it’s soaked and burning your fingertips. You wring the excess, hands tingling, and sit in a straight-backed wooden chair pressed right next to the fridge.

Sandwiched, you hold the flannel over your eyes and tip your head back. Slowly, slowly, the dry burning of your eyes becomes a soothing warmth. You sigh and fold your hands in your lap.

The flannel cools. You doze at the table and worry about Sirius, even though you know he’s just fine in someone else’s bed.

-

Remus was right about one thing, Sirius was seeing a bird, of sorts - a bottle of Grey Goose. Something about watching you, homespun and pretty in your cotton pajamas making jokes and giggling, is enough to make him sick to his stomach, and what better to settle it than an exorbitant amount of shots in a dingy local?

Shots don’t settle anything, he discovers, after throwing up in the bathroom. He swishes his mouth out, spends a blissful minute in the alleyway outside with the cold biting his cheeks before he disapparates home, mostly sober.

You’re sleeping. He stops in the doorway and stares at you, drooped over, a snowdrop at the kitchen table. You’ve a wet flannel on your leg, the water turning your light grey pajamas a darker colour where it leaches into the fibres. He shuts the door behind him as quietly as he can manage and moves the flannel from your leg. Then, he crouches down and hesitates with his hand an inch from your face. He touches the tip of his pinky to your cheek, hand shaking. You move with your breathing, a flower shifted by gentle wind.

When you remain asleep he cups your cheek in his palm and encourages your head up. You sigh deeply but won’t stir even when he brushes his thumb over your skin.

He hums to himself, tilts his head to look at you. “Oh, doll, what am I gonna do with you?” he asks. You don’t hear.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he presses your face against his chest so his hands are free and slides them under your armpits, your arms over his shoulder. This rouses you enough for your arms to tense up around him. "Good girl," he murmurs, lifting you up, reaching around your legs to hold you up.

You hug him tight, your legs come up around his thighs. "Sirius?" you ask quietly.

-

You looked at the key with mild puzzlement and then horrifying hope. It twinkled in the grey morning, a lighthouse on the foggy coast. You looked between the key and Sirius' face too many times to count and finally, carefully, reached up to take it. He dropped it into your open palm. You marvelled at how small they could make something so big.

Sirius stood with little expression on his face, calm and collected as usual. You looked over his shoulder at the others hugging their parents, then back to him.

He lifted his chin and his mouth parted. You poked the key like it might grow wings and fly away before clenching it in your fist.

“Where is it?” you asked him, throat tensed with the want to cry.

“Will that change your answer?”

“You haven’t asked me anything yet.”

He smiled, then, like you’d forced it from him. He seemed ten feet tall as he stepped closer, graciously moving his head down so you could see his eyes.

“You’ll move in with us?” he asked, though it sounded less like a question and more like he already knew your answer.

You giggled and then stopped, realising the magnitude of it all. Move in with us. You laughed again with renewed vigour and threw your arms around his neck, on tip toes to cross your hands, clinging to the key between both hands.

He made a surprised sound and hugged you back, hands and arms across your back and strong enough for your shoes to leave the ground as he leaned back.

-

He shushes you and starts down the hall, careful not to hit your head against anything. He turns backward to push his door open and drops you down over his rumpled sheets. You won't let go of his neck. He peels your hands away. You make a sound soft enough he has to pause to hear the tail end of it.

He empties his jacket pockets and shrugs it off, feeling the cool air wash over his clammy skin. He pushes his window open a little more and looks out over your street, swathed in night.

You make another sound. He doesn't look up this time, until your voice calls.

"Sirius," you say. He turns quickly. You've curled up into a ball facing him, head on his pillow.

"What?" he asks.

He's not sure you have anything to ask him. You look so tired, bags under your eyes like bruises and your lips pressed together, he wants to sit with your head in his lap. He wants to say it out loud, say, fuck, I'll be your pillow if you need one. I'll sit here all night and hold my hands over your eyes if it'll help you sleep.

You look at him, listless.

He perches on the other side of the bed lightly. He can’t quite make himself smile.

“You okay?”

You're too sleepy to really answer him. You squeeze your eyes shut and push your face into the pillow, a small, throaty moan escaping you and sinking into the fabric. He puts his fingertips over the space between your shoulder blades and pushes them out like a firework bursting with no sound until his palm is flat. Your back rises under his touch.

“You’re back,” you say, almost incomprehensible.

Sirius sighs and kicks off his heavy boots. You peak at him as he lies down next to you, fully clothed. His back is flat but he turns his head, looking at you with his chin angled up. He doesn’t say anything. He catalogues the familiar planes of your face that aren’t hidden away. You shrink under his gaze and he feels instantly remorseful for his coldness. The room is silent but for his hand, stretching slowly over the gap between you both until he finds your legs, curled up like a child. He touches his pinky finger to your kneecap, a small enough motion to claim accidental. It isn’t.

You won’t look at him but your eyes don’t close entirely. He moves his hand, brushes his nail across your pyjamas and pretends he can feel the skin underneath.

“You smell like you,” you say, and then wince. He’s surprised to hear your voice.

“And what do I smell like, doll?” he asks after a too-long pause.

“Night time,” you say, quickly like you know the answer for certain. Like it’s easy.

“Yeah?”

“When it rains,” you further.

He wishes he understood you better. He thinks you’re trying to tell him something, he just doesn’t know what it is.

He turns on his side, tucks his hand away from your kneecap and similar temptation under his face, knuckles pushing into his cheek. He blows on your face to gather your attention, watching your eyes flit up to his in surprise.

“Why were you sleeping in the kitchen?” he asks, quickly finding that it’s the wrong question.

You frown to yourself and shut your eyes.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“Was doing it fine ‘til you woke up.”

“Forgive me for not leaving you in the kitchen, won’t you?”

You swallow nothing. He sighs audibly at you and scrubs a hand over his jaw. “Do you want a drink, doll?”

“You have water?” you ask.

He turns and retrieves a tepid glass from his nightstand and holds it out to you. You push up onto your elbow and accept, sipping until there’s a half inch left at the bottom. You swirl it around over and over. He feels as though the sound of it reaches down into his chest.

“Y/N,” he murmurs.

You stop, climbing up onto your knees to put it back. He can smell the last whispers of perfume in your hair, a stronger scent of something clean like deodorant and something a little more cloying. He can feel the space between you, can see where your shirt rides up, and finds himself aching like he’s been hit hard in the chest.

He wonders what the bruise would be shaped like, if it were real. Shaped like your mouth or your hand?

You sit back down, legs underneath you like you might start praying over him. He wants to tell you to lie back down and get some rest. You push your arms behind your back until something clicks.

“Don’t do that,” he scolds.

You ignore him and turn your neck to the side until it cracks. You're about to do the other side when he catches you by the chin, regrettably rough. You look at him with wide eyes. He pushes his thumb from the tip of your chin to push against his index finger.

“Don’t,” he repeats.

You exhale and he feels it on his hand as you wrap your fingers around his wrist. Your finger graces his pulse. You pull his hand gently from your face and, to his chagrin, click your neck. Your smile is devious and has him chuckling, and like that the tension he feels in his chest diffuses. You’re you, he’s him, and the space between you is only space, rather than an uncrossable impasse.

“You’re impossible,” he says, grimacing. “Sleep before I lose my temper.”

“You’ll do something for me?” you ask as you lift up his heavy duvet, crawling under and shifting until you’re comfortable.

“What?” he asks.

“Brush your teeth? Drink gives you cavities.”

-

okay intermission over <3

mouth of september taglist @getawayfrommewerewolf @kissmeunicornbaobei @takem3tothelakes @sylum @hellion-writes @flareish @venomsvl @this-is-mycrisis @janalustare

thanks for reading <33333

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[violetarks]

Arguing With Them/Making Up With Them

Games: Fictif/Arcana

Characters: Asra Alnazar, Julian Devorak, Felix Iskander Escell, Sage Lesath

A/N: Kind of went over board with Felix, oops, and spoilers for asra's route in his part, but really just minor spoilers. ALSO I COULDN'T ADD THE PHOTOS BC TUMBLR SAID I EXCEEDED THE LIMIT >:((, please tell me if you spot any use of pronouns for y/n!! i've tried to fix it because i previously used she/her by accident

Asra Alnazar:

getting into a fight with you would not benefit either of you

it was obvious how much you two liked working together and time apart would not help

and fights don't actually happen frequently, only once every few months

asra is a very grounded person and they don't enjoy it when the two of you ever have an argument, no matter how minor the actual problem is

but they would always be the first to apologise, coming to terms with the way you viewed things and ultimately understanding it

so fights never lasted too long with this person because of how much they really love you

you'd be back in their arms the next minute, because Asra could've fathom the idea of not having you at their side as they love you that much

fights never lasted more than just 30 mins with them, truthfully

you couldn't bare to leave it more than that because it hurts to be away from each other for too long

which is why asra finds it difficult to go on trips without you after you two make it official

and you'd apologise first a few times too, since you knew when you were wrong and didn't think asra was the one who really needed to say 'sorry'

nevertheless, you always came back to each other

this time, however, it went further than expected

this fight had lasted hours, most of it yelling back and forth

you and them were going through with your normal routine when you had suddenly dropped a specific potion that Asra had been keeping to themselves for a while

it was smeared on the floor and you couldn't help but feel upset at yourself, no matter how many times the white-haired person in front of you had dismissed it

you could tell they were very disappointed that they no longer had a stash of it and frustrated with himself for not getting spares

so you had sought off to get some while asra was away on another trip, and they again hadn't told you how long they'd be away, so you believed you had some time to retrieve it

you were originally going to close the shop for the time being, but then asra's parents had come around at the perfect time

they had offered to take the shop until you came back

it took you longer than expected since you had to track it down yourself, asking people around town and ending up at a merchant just outside of town who gave you the directions and specific instructions

you recognised the name of the town they mentioned, which is the same town on the lable of the bottle, so it had to be right

you were dead set on wanting it to be a surprise, and returned home around two weeks later, opening the door to see Asra pacing around the room

they were still wearing their large scarf and their bag as well as their hat was carelessly thrown onto the chair, so it was obvious that asra had just arrived home recently

their parents were nowhere to be seen, so you assumed that they had left already

asra's head turned at the sound of the little bell above the door and they widened their eyes once they saw you, rushing and engulfing you in a big hug

you thought asra was just happy to see you, since they had been separated from you for a while

y/n: "hey, did you miss me more than usual?"

asra: "..."

y/n: "usually, i'm the one who jumps on you like this, heh. what's got your panties in a twist?"

asra doesn't reply, only tightening their hold on you

which was definitely weird

asra would almost always have something sneaky and flirtatious to say in return, but not this time

you clench the back of their vest before pulling away, now realising the frustrated look on their face as they looked back at you

asra asks where you were in this tight voice that seemed unfamiliar, and it only got worse when you admitted where you had headed

it was dangerous, from what asra remembered and the thought of you being there made their chest tighten

and asra was correct, it was dangerous, but you made sure to stick to what you were taught for protection and look, you made it out without a scratch

but asra didn't see it that way at all

asra let all their waiting in agony come at you in a loud yell that had shook the candles hanging from the ceiling

you were shocked, holding onto your bag tightly as asra continue to tell you off for what you were doing

sometimes you'd attempt to support your decision, but that was lost in asra's words

asra: "y/n, do you realise how reckless you were? that place is swarming with trouble and it's even worse for someone who hasn't been there before!"

y/n: "i was only there for a few nights, i booked a hotel the rest of the time on coming back home—"

asra: "but you were still there! how am i supposed to protect you when i don't even know where you are? you should've asked me, and i would've come with you."

they would go on and on about how you should ask them and such, and throughout the whole entire thing, you held the souvenirs in your bag close to yourself

you didn't know how to give it to them now that they were mad at you

and you were frustrated as well, because you've grown so much and you're able to do whatever you please

it made you bring out your sarcasm more, which was a habit you had picked up ages ago

it had developed over the years of asra shutting you in and out of danger bc they're too scared of what will happen when you're alone

you two are rarely ever apart from each other already bc of your living situation, sharing the bedroom and the whole shop

y/n: "asra, i believe i am fully capable with taking a trip like you do"

asra: "i know, i just don't want you going there, y/n, i don't think that's too hard to follow"

y/n: "oh, i'm so sorry asra, why don't you tell me where else i'm allowed to go?? am i back on my leash with you, huh? can i go to the bedroom, master?"

asra had blinked at you a couple times before feeling themselves break, a few tears forming in their eyes

the word you used to address them as always made their heart pound in the worst way possible

because that's what you used to call them before they let you go, and now asra hates that word with all their being

you were so irritated with them that you hadn't noticed, now pacing around the room like asra was as they stands there, struck

asra: "don't... don't call me that..."

y/n: "oh, so now i'm not allowed to say things?"

asra: "i just want you to be safe! isn't that what you want too—"

y/n: "no, asra, i just want to do what i feel like and not have you breathing down my neck about it, alright? i understand that you don't want to lose me and that you love me, but that's exactly how i feel about you and i still trust you enough to go out there without me or any other form of help"

you're not even looking at them at this point

if you were, you would see that asra's actually crying and they're just staring at you

you're looking at the floor as you clench your fists at your sides, one holding the strap of you satchel

y/n: "i'm not the helpless person from years ago asra, i'm stronger now. i hate depending on people when i'm perfectly capable by myself."

asra: ",,, so you don't need me anymore? is that it?"

this is the moment where the two of you are just staring at each other, finally linking gazes

asra was already crying, it was silent and slow

they tend to do that, cry quietly so nobody had noticed unless they looked directly at their face, even then they tried to hide

they trained themselves to keep their voice steady when speaking as asra cries because they would rather not warn the other person about it

you were on the verge, angry and sad tears already forming

you were aggravated by yourself, knowing full well that you should've at least mentioned it to asra. they worried about you a lot, and that was a fact regardless of what they really thought of you

you were sad at the two of you for even starting this fight, they could've solved this better with just talking normally and not shouting

y/n: "i never said that"

asra: "but thats what you meant, isn't it? you... you don't want me to worry about you, and i can't..."

this time, you walked towards them with a focused expression

they were wiping their eyes before seeing you waltz up to them, utterly surprised by the look on your face

asra goes to say something when you suddenly bring your hands forward to collect their tear-stained cheeks in your palms

the two of you stop, another time to take a breath

you looked them right in the eyes, you heart beating hastily before biting your lip as you tried to hold back your own tears back

asra's fingers brushed against your elbows, holding onto them in reassurance

y/n: "i'm... i'm sorry for not telling you where i was going. i just... wanted to replace what i broke and i wanted it to be a surprise. but it was reckless of me. i should know better by now..."

asra: "no, i just worry about you too much. i want to protect you and be there for you but... it's like you don't need that anymore."

y/n: "asra, i don't need you to protect me. just... just be there for me. love me until you can't anymore. in return, i'll do the same for you."

you couldn't ever see yourself not wanting or needing asra ever

you two have been through so much and you're together til the end, you will make sure of that

having asra's face in your palms, you kissed their forehead lovingly and slowly, telling them what you had thought about that

it would not be the case, ever

asra was embedded in your life and you couldn't imagine anything without them

asra: "but what if something happens?"

y/n: "i'm sure that we'll both be able to handle it. i don't want you shielding me. i want to stand beside you, asra. aren't we equal?"

asra: "of course! i'm just scared of what might happen..."

y/n: "you don't have to be."

as you spoke, asra only pulled you in closer, wrapping their arms around you

you dig your head into their shoulder and hold onto them like they were doing to you

the two of you cry together in the middle of your shop, nothing but hushed whispers leaving either of your lips

after a while, asra mentions the lateness of the day and brings you up to the bedroom

the two of you go to sleep right after that, asra laying on top of you as you brushed fingers through their hair

a habit after fighting is always being the closest you can with each other, letting the other know just how much you forgave them and still loved them

Julian Devorak:

julian was definitely a hard one to get into a fight with

arguments and disagreements were only natural for a relationship of any kind

but julian was the type to not voice his feelings purely because he was afraid of what the other person might say

he didn't want to lose you and if anything he speaks does that, then he could not forgive himself, so he thought it was better to just keep it inside

he hated disagreeing with you more than anything, which is why you would only get a statement or two about it before he decides to just keep quiet about it

a habit between that's formed because of this is that you tend to not push him too far

he made you more independent with your decisions but also take into consideration his points

there's only been a few times where you two have fought for real and it had taken a toll on the both of yous

one time was when you had been frustrated all day while making plans for a certain mission and you had gotten into a disagreement with julian about something small

it started off as something he tried to make sweet and joking

but he hadn't seen just how much today had taken a toll on you

nadia was busy with forming different groups to specialise in certain things and she was already trying to calm down her servants and city from the recent events that threaten them

asra was caught up with travelling around and getting information about the whole affair to help you guys win

so then you offered to help with setting up the plans and such for each group as well as the four of you, thinking it couldn't be that hard. just devise a plan that is foolproof. and it shouldn't be that hard.

but julian was talking a lot for someone who should be keeping an eye on the enemy in the chambers

y/n: "but why would we take the scenic route when the backway is way more safer for us?"

julian: "because, my dear, if this is really our last night alive, i'd rather spend it staring at the sunset with you."

y/n: "julian, i am not putting you on that ride if you're thinking that way, we don't need some saviour out there trying to get himself killed."

julian: "my, my, darling, what's going on with you?"

y/n: "look, i'm sorry, but could you leave for a few minutes? this is really important and nadia needs to set the fighters in place by tomorrow morning."

he gets the idea of it once you say that

he now understands that you are stressed from all the work you had taken on, and he even offers to take some of it off your shoulders

but you just say 'no'

and that stumbles him

you rejected because he had played his part already and you didn't feel right about giving someone else your workload when you took the responsibility yourself

but this is one of the times where julian wasn't quite sure how to handle situations like this

he was so used to himself being the one who was pulling away and you being the one to understand that and know when to stop

but it was switched here and julian didn't know what to do, or even how and when to pull away

so he stands there quietly as you draw lines on multiple maps for separate army guards to follow

all the two of you hear is your pencil against paper and you sighing out when you have to reach for the eraser

you could feel him watching you and just tracing your every move, which made you feel uneasy and frankly, make you work even worse than you were before

y/n: "..."

julian: "..."

y/n: "..."

julian: "... *coughs*"

y/n: "please, julian, leave."

julian: "what did i do?"

the breaking of silence makes you drop your pencil, resulting in you pinching the bridge of your nose and squeezing your eyes shut

maybe that would help you feel better

but it didn't as julian begins to hum some obnoxious tune

you're looking at him with a very serious and annoyed expression, making him feel even more confused

it results in a fight in the study room that makes all passerby people immediately leave the area

they wouldn't want to be mixed up up in any of that just by the sounds of it

you're yelling because you just want julian to leave you alone for a few minutes, thinking it would help you get some things done before you can see him again, and you can't focus with him just looming over you

julian's yelling because he doesn't know how to deal with this and he's trying to comfort you, in the worst way possible, but it's something and he isn't used to leaving you alone while you're upset without him there

it's frustration and confusion hovering in the air

you were piling up in stress because of this and it caused you to say things you surely didn't mean

which caused julian to say things he didn't mean either

a few times, asra or nadia would nearly walk inside but hear all the commotion and decide to come back later

they knew better than to interfere

last time one of them did, the two of you stared at them for a while, ceasing all talking and expressions before just walking away from each other, now silently arguing with each other

having another party try to butt in made you two feel like you were blowing it out of proportion, so you thought it was better to just ignore it

you're already gathering your things

y/n: "yknow what? if you won't leave, then i'll leave. i can't get this done when you're constantly talking to me."

julian: "ah! hey, i'm just trying to figure out what's wrong! i'm—i'm trying to help!"

y/n: "julian if you really wanted to help, you would've left me alone when i asked you to. i really need some space right now."

julian: "space? from... from me?"

y/n: "for only like... an hour or two! you know how important this is is nadia and all of vesuvia. i need to get this done. if i don't, i can't even comprehend how many people will die and if that happens because of... please..."

julain goes quiet as he hears the amount of desperation in your voice

you're really stressing hard about all of this and it definitely shows in your tone and face

julian finally sees how much weight is on your shoulders and decides that he should give you what you initially asked for

he decides to leave you alone

but he doesn't do that without rounding the table and giving you a kiss on the side of your temple, whispering a small 'i'm sorry' and 'i love you so much' before he leaves

you finally get moments of peace and quiet in the room and yet your ears are ringing loudly

you can't help the frustrated tears that escape you and the way you harshly rub them away before getting back to work

all within one minute

of silence

and without julian

you end up getting all the work done within the next hour and a half and you can't bring yourself to leave the room after everything you said to julian and you know for a fact that he won't be waiting very far

a servant comes around after noticing the quietness and asks if you need anything, and you ask for a drink (wine, really, it's been a long day) and you get it the next minute later

usually, they'd give you a glass and hang around with the whole bottle

instead, the servant hands you the whole entire bottle itself and a chalice before leaving quickly

you silently thank nadia for her good choice in people

you're by the window, sitting on the table and taking a swing from your cup, when you hear the door being opened

you expect julian, but hear another voice

asra: "is there a reason you left this guy walking around the palace like a lost puppy?"

with your cup still to your lips, you turn around to your friend and see him holding the taller man by the elbow

your boyfriend looked like he just got caught stealing, refusing to look in your eyes and only away at the wall

asra knows full well why, but he just tugs julian along towards you

y/n: "where'd you find him?"

asra: "the garden."

y/n: "which one?"

asra: *points*

y/n: "ah. okay. thanks, asra. i'll see you at dinner. tell nadia that i've finished and we'll go over it tonight."

he nods and leave you guys alone

julian stands there like a kid about to get told off

you're sipping your wine as you watch the vines and flowers outside

y/n: "so you were waiting just outside the window, huh?"

julian: "... just in case you were in trouble..."

y/n: "i'm on the third floor. how would you help from the garden?"

julian: "i can climb."

that makes you chuckle, and julian sees that you're looser than before, meaning he can relax as well

he walks towards you, sitting himself down close so your legs are touching

you hold out the chalice of wine to which he takes, pouring in some from the bottle

he clinks his glass with your bottle before you both take a sip

it's a nice silence between yous before julian bumps his shoulder with yours

julian: "i'm really sorry about earlier, darling. it was completely unnecessary and you needed to get things done. i was wrong."

you can tell by his voice that he's really meaning this, and he's playing with the rim of the chalice

y/n: "it's okay, julian. i should've been straight with you and just asked politely, but i took it out on you. i'm sorry, and i hope you can forgive me."

he smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into a hug

julian: "only if you forgive me, my love."

he gives you that smile that makes you believe that everything is okay

because it is and he really loves you

Felix Iskander Escell:

fighting with felix is very,,,,,, interesting

he's very stubborn and always wants to get what he wants

sometimes you just cave and do it his way because you don't have enough time to fight

more times than he'd like to admit, it's over very silly things that is just a preference for his every day life

like once you two got into a little argument about laundry day and how he needed to get all his dirty clothes together the day before, but he thought it was preposterous how he had to dig up clothes deep within his wardrobe to wear until his clothes dried

it was very useless

but sometimes you wouldn't see a proper way around doing his idea, so you fight to do yours

sage and anisa didn't particularly like getting involved in you fights, mainly because you were both ruthless and vvvv stubborn with your own points, depending what it was

felix would tell anisa that she was too uptight to understand where he was coming from

you would tell sage to butt out because he's too drunk to hear the bullshit he's spitting

you both endlessly apologise to the both of them in the end, because it's just plain rude and they didn't do anything

one time, you guys were in the middle of a fight with troops made up of sage's friends and anisa's peers, against some horribly strong enemies

felix was not good with close range attacks, so he happened to miss out on some assassin drawing in close to you, who was covering his vanguard

he calls too late as you get slashed in the back and grunt before turning around and slamming them into the way, breaking their helmet and watching the blood drip from behind it

you take a moment before stepping away and tripping back on your feet, landing on your rear as felix calls your name and stays at your side while your coworkers did what they needed to

you hear sage call out your name but felix tells him to go on while he takes care of you

felix: "i need to get you out of here. now. a... a first aid station or something."

y/n: "we're in a battlefield, felix, and the closest thing to a first aid station is that bathroom over there."

it gets blown up as soon as you say that

y/n: "nevermind."

felix: "then i'll find a way to assist you here."

felix knew nothing about closing wounds and how to heal them quickly with magic

he once tried the same thing with sage and he ended up in a ghost form for two hours, where he haunted felix and messed with anisa's hair

he was panicking though

he needed to help you

felix pulls off his coat and wraps it around you, pulling your arms through the sleeves since he knew if anyone saw one of their leaders injured then they'd be disheartened

anisa had warned them about that

y/n: "not now, we have things to do."

felix: "but you'll bleed out before you can finish anything useful! y/n, just allow me to bandage you up."

y/n: "you'll have an easier time the faster we finish this fight, come on."

you stand up, ready to continue with your weapon in hand when felix yanks you back with some magic

you look at him confused

felix: "haven't you ever read those tales? the injured back away from the war, y/n, not rush into it again."

y/n: "this is all we've got. nobody else is going to fight for us except for us."

felix: "don't be so deluded! listen to me—"

y/n: "after."

and you sprint off with your weapon, heading towards the group anisa is leading

this area was clear, and you trusted felix to know better than to wander off without any help

you're doing well so far, since you were wearing a black cloak over your back

sage was fairly good with a sword so he had taught you to use one

you told anisa to go on ahead so that you could make a round to find any other enemies that would be holed up in this facility

the fight was continuing outside

just as you get the area cleared, you feel your arm being tugged in the opposite direction

out of pure instinct, you flip them over your shoulder and hold them down harshly

takes you a moment to realise it's felix

you immediately let go and get off of him, calling out his name in surprise

y/n: "god, felix are you alright? you shouldn't scare me like that!"

he doesn't answer you for a moment before he slowly gets up and turns to face you, hand on his head

felix: "i'm taking you home."

y/n: "we're not finished!"

felix: "i do not care for this stupid war! you're bleeding through your back and i can tell how much pain is residing within! do not test my patience! my decision is final!"

all the yelling runs to his head, making it worse as he grips his hair

when he pulls his palm away, blood begins to drip down from his hairline

you're staring at him

you must've hit him hard,,,

felix: "i'm... i'm fine..."

and he passes out

you're kind of torn, because you need to get out there and fight but you also don't know who can look after felix

you groan as you haul him onto your back, making way for a nearby tower that you could hide in

felix used to teach you a few things about offensive magic, but gave you books about it since he wasn't able to teach that stuff

so you were shooting magic fire arrows at enemies when felix wakes up, bandage around his head and throbbing pain everywhere

you only had just enough for him

you look to him for a moment, focused look before turning to the field

you hated arguing with felix

this might not have seen like much to anyone but this was a breach for you

you trusted felix in his study, making plans, doing crazy experiments

and he was supposed to trust you on the field and protecting the others

it was like he didn't think you would do right here

you hated that

you spent so long to earn the respect of people around you in Porrima and anisa had warned you that many fighters did not trust you

you needed to prove how good you were and how much you intended to help

you promised to be on the front lines

but now, you were in a tower providing sniper aid while your lover was trying to recollect what happened

you shoot another arrow, getting an enemy square in the shoulder

y/n: "done whining?"

felix: "excuse me?"

y/n: "i only stayed back to make sure you were okay. they're expecting me out there."

felix: ",,, you didn't even treat your own wounds, y/n."

y/n: "busy."

he's so confused

why don't you just take a break???

it's not that hard???

felix knows a certain telepathy spell that lasts a few seconds for him, so he decides a quick look into that head of yours should help him understand better

you were only a few feet away from him, pulling back another magic arrow before you feel felix tug on your arm, making your arrow shoot within the room

it sputters around the room, hitting all the walls around the both of you

you tackle felix down and hold his head to your chest, making sure he was covered so he didn't get hit and you're also getting irritated

the arrows shoots out the window and you pull yourself up, taking a breath of relief

you shoot a look to felix

y/n: "what the hell is going on with you? what were you thinking?"

felix: ",,,,,"

y/n: "felix, we don't have any time for this! we're in deep shit right now, i don't need you trying to pull me out of the fight when i need to be there!"

you stand up, grabbing your sword and opening a portal like how felix taught you too

you're about to walk through

felix: "you don't need to prove yourself to anyone, y/n."

you stop and turn around to him, asking him what he said

felix: "none of this is of your concern, y/n. this is porrima's affairs and you are not even from here. i don't understand why you would make this a problem of your own."

you're still confused as to why he's saying these things

the portal closes behind you, making felix give a sigh of relief

he stands, carefully

y/n: "i'm fighting for my friends and their home"

felix: "you're fighting for the sake of being known, being seen as someone. y/n, that is selfish and you know it yourself. don't let a dream like that delude you from what is reality."

his words are harsh and he knows this, because if he doesn't speak this way then he won't get his point across properly

you look like you've seen a ghost

you're horrified

because you know he's been through your mind

a part of you knows that it's true

y/n: "shut up. you don't know what you're talking about."

felix: "i was just in your thoughts, y/n, i know. you shouldn't think of yourself something you are not."

y/n: "i'm trying to help! what do you want?"

felix: "you need medical attention. you're... you're back is drenched in crimson and you look pained whenever you draw back an arrow."

you shake your head at him because you can't believe how selfish he is making you sound, so much that you'd risk your own life to be seen as a god in the end?

you throw your sword to the wall

and grip felix's collar harshly

he's startled at the sudden movement

y/n: "listen. i've become too close to everyone here to just let them die. you have to let me do this."

felix isn't worried about himself in this situation like he would be whenever someone stronger began to threaten him

he's seen into your head so he knows where you are mentally

he only holds onto your wrists

felix: "you don't always have to be the savior, y/n, there are other people in the world."

y/n: ",,, and what if they fail?"

you've been burdened with all of this because of the mystery around your sudden appearance making everyone either think you were a traitor/assassin sent to kill them all, or some powerful all knowing being

you worked hard to get everyone's respect and attention

no way are you letting that all down now

but you're pushing yourself way too hard

you're shaking and your grip is getting looser

felix: "well... if you really want to, then you should face them when you're healed and okay. no point in trying to save the world when you're low on health, correct?"

y/n: ",,, right. but... but i can still help them."

felix: "of course you can, but please allow me to heal your back first."

you nod your head before sliding off the jacket, letting felix see the damage done, it was a lot

after he finishes, you apologise immediately and he does so too

he gives you a shy kiss to show that it's fine now, and by the sounds of it, the fight has stopped

you two meet up with sage and anisa and explain the situation that had happened, and they understand immediately after seeing how much bandaging your back needed, in private of course. your whole area from your chest to your waist band, blood still seeping through your back

in the end, everyone praised your bravery and nobody blames you, making you feel a lot more better about yourself

Sage Lesath:

sage is

not the ideal person to get into a fight with

not only does he constantly hide his emotions from everyone else until the bottle can't handle anymore, but he also blows up and says a lot of hurtful things when he's upset

however this is with anyone, he just gets so frustrated that he ends up tearing the person he's arguing with a new wound

he gets very emotional when he fights

tears are almost a given

yelling and headaches

but sage tries to get better

when he hears it himself after he says it, he instantly regrets even opening his mouth

immediately tries to apologise to whoever he yelled at, but there are a few times where he's gone too far

that would mean the person he yelled at would need a day or even a week to fully forgive him for what he's said, and more often than not it's someone he's close with, which makes it even worse

but sage knows when he goes too far

it's just that he has a hard time getting over it himself

this has happened between the two of you at some point in your relationship

you guys had been on the rocky side of things because he had a fight with anisa and felix about something important and you had just walked in as it hit the middle of it

you asked what was going on, and when they explained it to you, you had agreed with the duo rather than with sage

that made him frustrated, because now it felt like the world was against him today

and he started yelling at you as well

y/n: "sage, there wasn't another way to go around it. anisa and felix made the right decision, they couldn't do anything else."

sage: "maybe if they listened to me, then we wouldn't be in an even bigger mess!"

y/n: "nothing has changed though. we're just in the same spot, so we can retry everything."

sage: "oh my god, but this was the perfect opportunity to move forward! and those two dumbasses wasted it!"

you tried to calm him down even more and the other two have stopped talking at this point

you don't like it when sage faces his problems without a good mindset, you can tell he is frustrated by what happened and can't see the bigger picture

sage just doesn't understand why you can't see things the way he is

both of them recognise that this is no longer about them but about you, which makes them confused

why did it suddenly change? was it because you were involved now?

sage had already had a go at anisa and felix, spitting some harsh words at them that the two only overlooked as they knew about him and how he acted at these times

however, it lingered in their head about whether or not sage would go that far with you

y/n: "calm down, please. it's already happened, so we might as well just figure out our next course of action."

sage: "oh to hell with that. where were you when all of this went down, huh?"

y/n: "i... i was here."

you backed down for a moment, feeling a little useless at this point

anisa realised how sage was going to take this and stepped in herself

anisa: "i asked y/n to stay, sage, that was my fault. if you are angry with that, then discuss it with me."

you didn't like it when either of them fought, but what could you do?

sage was in no agreeing manner and anisa held firm to her statement

it was incredibly hard to sort things out in this group

sage: "but that's it. y/n was here while we were out there risking our own lives. what's the point of you being here if you aren't going to help us?"

y/n: "i am helping! anisa asked me to gather whatever information i could about the opposition!"

felix was about to ask what you found, since you had asked him to transport you to a very enemy secluded area and he was worried about your safety

but he was ignored

you two were still going at it

sage: "well that's now fucking useless, isn't it? we lost."

y/n: "you didn't lose."

sage: "and how would you know? you weren't even there!"

felix and anisa seat themselves down

at this point, there's no trying to stop them or even separate them

this had gone on for too long to go back, so they had to ride it out

it goes on, your frustration building up so much that you start to yell just out of pure frustration with sage

he falls deeper and deeper into the hole, pulling out things that would surely anger you further from just hearing about it

it would usually be that the two leave the room, but they haven't seen you this heated before

it was strange and they wanted to be careful, especially considering that you haven't mastered using your relic yet

sage: "you're so single-minded, oh my god! i just want you to see things my way, is that so hard for you?"

y/n: "sage, you can't expect someone to put themselves in your shoes if you can't do it for yourself! anisa and felix could've died out there and all you care about is winning that one fight! there will be others to redeem yourself if your pride and reputation as a mercenary means that much to you!"

you don't mean that

you know how much he cares for his friends but you're baffled by the fact that he'd prioritise the mission over them

and you're sure that they are as upset as you are

they give each other a look before listening in to the both of you

you were usually the calm one in this situation and it would take a lot to rile you up

and these two didn't know if your relic would come out to play in these times

you weren't someone who would resort to violence in a fight but your emotions are tied to your weapon, so if you were pushed far enough then it would appear

sage: "i don't even know why you even got involved in the first place."

y/n: "because you're acting crazy at the moment"

sage: "you keep saying i'm overreacting when you won't even hear me out."

y/n: "calm down first. you don't know what you're saying when you get this angry."

he's walking up to you and is now standing right in front

he's glaring holes into your head and getting more heated up that necessary

you've never been afraid of sage and you aren't now

you know that no matter what, sage would never ever hit you

and of course he wasn't going to

standing right up in front of the person he was arguing with was a habit that he had formed after years of having to fight for himself with no one to back him up

it was like an unconscious practice between him and fighting with anyone

so when he got up in your face, you didn't think anything of it

sage: "you know, y/n, what you have to say doesn't even matter. you're just some random person felix brought from another world, you don't matter when it comes to our lives. you mean nothing to what we have to do. to us."

this was the first time that he had hit that deep part in your heart

a sense of alienation when it came to you and porrima

you had mentioned this to sage before when you were feeling homesick a few days after your arrival

you were very vulnerable at that point and sage was there to help comfort you

you never brought it up again because everyone had made you feel a part of their lives and more comfortable, considering you were in a whole different time

when sage hears what he said, his head begins to reel at his sheer stupidity but he doesn't let it show on his face

he still believes that he is right

his pride gets in the way a lot

anisa: "that is far enough, sage."

she's angry with him, mostly because she had never believed that sage would treat y/n the same way he treated them in arguments

she believed that y/n was the only one who could properly calm sage down but it seemed this was just a bit too much

felix is wide eyed at the both of you, still processing what was happening

this was the first

he hadn't pictured sage yelling at you like that

and what was worse is that you feeling alienated was more of a silent secret kept between the group because of the nature of you coming into this world

everyone had a hint of it

but you hadn't actually told them, which made this even worse

you trusted sage with this and now he just confirmed it and resurfaced the problem when you were so close to forgetting about it

felix: "sage, that was a bit much, don't you think? it was uncalled for."

sage: "you—... i just..."

anisa: "are you alright, y/n?"

everyone's eyes are on you now

you give your best calm smile

y/n: "i'm fine. i supposed that clears that up."

everyone knew you weren't talking about the argument between the three

you left to your bedroom right after that, feeling your face burn with embarrassment and your chest tightening

anisa and felix were lecturing sage about it, making his tail only brush against the floor beneath them

they leave soon after

you had originally gone in there to give anisa the information she needed, written on a few sheets of paper, so the knight took that and began on her way to building the next step

felix wanted to come along as well, seeing as y/n needed time for herself and sage wasn't in the companying mood

sage would be in the study by himself for a while

until it was dinner time

he went into the dining room to see anisa and felix seated down, already beginning to eat what was prepared

sage: "where's y/n?"

felix: "hasn't left the bedroom. i tried already, but my efforts were useless."

anisa: "perhaps i should try again."

but before she can stand up fully, sage is already scooping up the two dinner plates and utensils in his grasp, leaving the dining hall against felix's calls

he's in front of your room in under a minute, using his foot to gently knock of the door

sage: ",,, hey, um... it's me? can i come in?"

he's met with silence

sage: "anisa and felix said you didn't come down for dinner, so i brought it up with me here. i was hoping we could eat together... and talk...?"

he hears a few shuffles before you open the door, allowing him to come inside

he sets the plates on the desk before engulfing you in a tight hug, arms around her shoulders and head dug into your shoulder

he's apologising almost immediately, which stops you because it happened all so quick

y/n: "hey..."

sage: "i was such an ass to you and you don't deserve any of that. i know how hard it is for you and i didn't help. i don't think you're nothing, and those two sure as hell don't. you..."

his grip on you tightens as strands of his hair falls over your eyes

he takes a shaky breath in

sage: "you're the first thing to mean everything to me. so please, forgive me. i'll do whatever it takes to make up for this."

he's crying and you are as you wrap your arms around his torso

y/n: "please don't talk about that anymore..."

sage: "i promise."

y/n: "okay,,, i'm really sorry about everything i said. i know you were worried about the others and that you're better than your pride. but i... i still think they made the right decision."

he takes a moment before brushing fingers on the back of your neck as a reassuring act

sage: "i understand. they probably did, i have no idea what was going on, i was freaking knocked out."

you asked if he was okay and he responds with tilting his head so his cheek is facing you

sage: "kiss it better?"

of course, you obliged

[slasherhaven]

Hello it’s me again could you please do Jesse Cromeans x single mother with a child whose deaf and the father of the child is abusive and trying to make the reader’s life horrible then Jesse crimes to the rescue lol hope it’s not too bothersome or confusing

-🖤

Warnings: abusive past relationship

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) X Single Mother with a Deaf Child and Abusive Partner:

You had been working for Jesse’s organisation for a little while but he never really noticed you, since you didn’t work that close to him.

His assistant had been off sick for about a week, and you had been assigned to take over her role until she got back.

That was the first time he truly took notice of you, instantly becoming a little intrigued.

He recognised the signs soon after. The way you acted around him and others despite nobody giving you any direct reason to fear them. How you apologised too quickly, worried about messing up, how quiet you were. You were good at your job, though.

When you had first headed to his office, to introduce yourself and explain you would be his assistant for a little while, he had gone to communicate through text to speech. You were quick to assure him that you understood sign language if he preferred to use that, your hands moving along with your words as if to prove it. 

It had made him smile. 

Placing down his phone, he used his hands to ask how you knew sign language.

“My son in deaf, sir” you explained with a small smile.

A son? Jesse knew he hadn’t spotted a ring on your hand, so you mustn’t have been married.

Over the week you spend together, he quickly learnt how to act around you. How to keep his distance as to not intimidate you, how to alert you to his presence so not to scare you.

But you quickly became comfortable around him. You knew he was a dangerous man but he had never been anything but kind to you.

Eventually you wondered when his usual assistant would be returning, only for him to tell you that you would be taking on the position permanently. A part of you wanted to argue, to ask more about the woman who’s job you were taking, but the pay raise just couldn’t be overlooked. Not when you had a son to think about.

So, you took to your new role easily. You worked closely to Jesse, the two of you hitting it off with a surprising ease. Perhaps it was because you could communicate so easily? He found talking to you less bothersome? You weren’t sure, but you enjoyed his company.

Normally you would greet him with a smile, two coffees in your hand. This morning was a little different.

When Jesse got to the office, his coffee was already sitting on his desk. Still warm. He found you at your desk, hanging your head, hair forming curtains around your face, scribbling something down.

He approached your desk with purposeful footsteps. He knew that you had heard him but you didn’t look up. 

He used the text to speech to say you name. You pause for a moment before looking up at him. 

Even through the make-up you had applied, he could see the bruise that had formed along your cheek. You knew he had seen it, you saw the anger in his eyes and how his shoulders tensed.

“What happened?” he asked simply, getting no response. “Come into my office” some people found it difficult to decipher tone in sign language but you had become an expert, his body language was tense but you knew the order held some gentleness.

You followed him to his office, he closed the door behind you both before guiding you over to his desk. You sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, and he sat in the other, not putting the desk between the two of you.

He once again asked what happened, who had hurt you.

You had been working with him for a while now, months, and you had noticed how much safer you felt with him. You could smile and laugh without a care when you were with him, you had fallen asleep in his office once while working on some paperwork with him, and you had woken up to a blanket draped over you.

He had even met your son once. It was after work hours, he had called you asking for a file that he couldn’t find. When you realised you had accidently taken it home with you, you offered to bring it in. He hadn’t expected to see you step into the office with a young boy trailing behind you. You handed him the file and he thanked you for it before looking down at your son. He seemed a little timid, standing just behind you cautiously. 

From what Jesse had assumed, the boy didn’t have great male role models in his life and he knew he was an intimidating man anyway. You couldn’t help but smile when Jesse gave your son a small wave, which he politely returned. But when Jessed signed “what’s your name?” your son’s face lit up in a smile before telling him his name. Jesse also introduced himself. 

All of that just to say that you felt that you could trust him.

So, you told him everything. How you had broken up with your boyfriend, your son’s father, a long time ago because of how abusive he could be, you didn’t want your child to be put through that. How, for a while, the father stayed out of your life, seemingly disappearing. How he recently started calling and showing up at your door, demanding to be a part of your son’s life. How he had harshly slapped you for denying him access to your home only the night before.

You weren’t sure when you started crying, but you weren’t surprised that you had. Jesse moved out of his chair, kneeling down in front of you as you lifted your head to look at him.

“Is he still bothering you?” you nodded. “Has he called you today?” you told him that he had been blowing up your phone so you blocked the number but that wouldn’t stop him from coming to your home again. “Are you sure you’re safe at home?” he asked and you paused before giving him an unconvincing nod.

Of course you weren’t safe at home, but you didn’t want to burden Jesse, your boss, with your personal life.

But he knew you were lying, and he wasn’t about to send you back home to deal with him. 

“You can stay with me for a while” he offered as he stood up, your eyes widening as you looked up at him.

“No, I can’t do that. I’m fine really” you didn’t want to be any trouble, even if his offer was very tempting. You would be safe, your ex would never guess you were staying there.

You argued and protested some more but Jesse kept insisting, and you eventually gave in. The offer was generous.

He let you use his bathroom to wash your face and clean up in. The two of you finished work early that day and, since you usually take public transport to work, Jesse opened his car door for you.

He took you to your home, where you packed two bags. One for you and once for your son.

He then took you to pick your son up from school once the school day was finished. Your son seemed excited to see Jesse again, running up and hugging you hello before signing his greeting to the well dressed man beside you.

“We’re going to stay with Jesse for a little while” you knelt down to your son’s height, a little surprised but glad to see his bright smile.

Jesse also smiled, this being one of the few times you had called him ‘Jesse’ despite how many times he had told you to do so.

Jesse’s home is grand and modern and impressive, it managed to stun you a little. But your son was nearly jumping up and down with excitement.

“Do I get my own room?” your son signed up to you. You looked to Jesse for an answer, and he nodded.

Jesse didn’t have a kid’s room in his home but he did have some guest rooms, one of which he gave to your son. “It’s the biggest room” he had told the young boy, making his smile grow even more.

That night, your son went to bed with ease, having worn himself out, and you returned to the lounge where Jesse was sitting with a drink.

“Thank you, Jesse. You really didn’t need to do all of this, it’s very generous” you sat down beside him.

He told you that he considered you to be a friend, that he refused to sit by and let your ex harass you. He wanted to look out for you and your son, you were his assistant after all.

For a while everything was going well. You and your son were still staying with Jesse, the three of you getting along well and adjusting easily to your new living situation. 

Jesse found that he enjoyed having you both there. He was aware that he had developed some feelings for you and was fond of your son, so he really didn’t mind you staying with him. In a way, he was getting what he wanted.

Things got a little worse when you went to pick your son up from school one day, finding your ex waiting for you both. You had instantly called Jesse, waiting by the school for him to arrive so that your ex couldn’t bother you too much, it was too public.

When Jesse’s car pulled up in front of you, your ex was talking to you. Your son clinging to your hand, both of you clearly afraid.

As soon as your son saw Jesse stepping out of the car, his face lit up. He released your hand and ran over to the man, who gently guided the child to stand behind him. Jesse’s stance protective.

“Are you ready to go?” Jesse signed and you nodded, quickly walking over to him. 

Of course, your ex had never bothered to learn sign language, so he didn’t understand any of it. He was quick to start snapping at Jesse, asking who he was and to leave you all alone, to mind his business, he was just trying to talk to his son. Your ex has always been foolish and hot-headed, trying to pick a fight with a man so much larger than him.

As your ex got closer, Jesse placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back harshly. He looked over his shoulder and nodded at you, you quickly ushered your son into the car, getting in with him. Using the text to speech on his phone, Jesse threatened your ex. You couldn’t hear, you could only see that he was using the device, but he was threatening your ex to stay away from you and your son.

Your ex backed off and Jesse got into the car, driving the three of you home where you could comfort your son and he could comfort you.

It wasn’t too long after that when Jesse went on his first business trip since you started living with him. It felt strange to be living in his home without him but it had started to feel like your own home. Jesse made sure the two of you stayed in touch, talking everyday.

He returned home after about two weeks. As soon as he stepped through the door, your son had run up to him with a huge smile to greet him with a hug. The two had become close. Your heart warmed when Jesse lifted the young boy up into an embrace, flashing you a proud smile as he kicked the door shut behind him. 

So domestic, how a child should react to his father returning after two weeks away.

That night your son had asked if he could stay up late because Jesse was home, you couldn’t convince him to go to bed, but Jesse convinced him by promising to do something special on the weekend. It had you smiling again.

You and Jesse did stay up a little longer that night, talking and catching up. He asked if your ex had given you any trouble, you told him that he hadn’t. What you didn’t know was that your ex would never be bothering you again, Jesse had made sure of it.

That night you confessed that you had missed him, that your son had as well, and Jesse confessed that he had missed the two of you too.

That night was the night that Jesse finally kissed you, finally feeling that you had become comfortable enough around him, that you returned his feelings and didn’t think you owed him anything for his help. And you had returned the kiss instantly, glad that he finally made the move.

Jesse had already proven to be the best partner you had ever had, the best father figure that your son had ever had, and he seemed to want to be those things. You truly believed that the three of you could make this work, that this could be good for all three of you. 

You had fallen hard for Jesse and as he pulled you closer to him on the couch, deepening the kiss, you were sure that you had never felt this way about somebody before.

[ijustwant2write]

Causing A Fuss-Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

(GIF credit to @hvitserkk​)

Masterlist

Requested by @elennox03 : Can you write an imagine where Anthony’s wife is pregnant and she’s at the very end of her pregnancy and he is trying to make her stay in bed and rest but she refuses and she’s somewhere in the house and she goes into labor and Anthony freaks out and then after the baby is born a little cute dad Anthony fluff?

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Hyacinth Bridgerton x Reader (sister-in-law), Violet Bridgerton x Reader (mother-in-law)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Pregnancy side effects, labour, mention of blood, fluff fluff fluff

                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Anthony's strides were quick as he explored the house, desperately seeking his wife. Members of staff were ambushed with questions, startled by his tone. When he didn't get the answer he wanted, he would huff and storm off again. Where was his beloved? She wasn't where she was supposed to be.

(Y/N) laid back on the sofa as Hyacinth fanned her, the pregnant woman also fanning herself. She was just too hot, she was tired and her feet felt like they had been hit with a hammer. Her shoes were on the floor, it was far too painful to be wearing them.

"Thank you so much darling." (Y/N) said to her sister-in-law.

"Is it really that bad?" Hyacinth asked.

(Y/N) wanted to say yes. Despite pregnancy being an extraordinary feeling, the emotions and connections you made with your unborn child were confusing, there were quite a few downsides; the sickness, the tiredness, not being able to fit into your dresses or shoes, as well as feeling every single type of emotion everyday. But after seeing the young girls scared face, she knew she couldn't be entirely truthful.

"No, of course not." (Y/N) smiled, sitting up slightly."It can just get a little tiring sometimes. Have you ever held a baby?"

She nodded.

"It was heavier than you imagined, hm? Well, my baby is a little heavy right now. But they will be here soon."

"I'm very excited to meet them. I can't wait to be an auntie!"

(Y/N) melted at that."You'll be an amazing auntie."

"Here you are." Anthony entered the room, relieved to see (Y/N), until he saw what state she was in."What is wrong? Hyacinth, why didn't you fetch for me sooner?"

Anthony rushed to his wife's side, snatching the fan from his sister and fanning his wife. (Y/N) was irritated whenever Anthony was like this, it was sweet that he cared, but her fuse was short. She was resting, not bed ridden.

"I am not returning to bed Anthony. I do not wish to bicker with you." (Y/N) made it clear."I am just hot, that is all."

"The doctor advised that you stay in bed for most of the day-"

"Anthony, I cannot stay cooped up all day, laying down and doing nothing. I would go simply mad. And I have spoken to friends who are or have been pregnant, none of them did that."

"They are not professionally trained."

"That doctor has never carried a baby."

"(Y/N) said it isn't that heavy." Hyacinth spoke up.

Anthony slowly turned his head to his sister. "This is a matter for the grown ups. Go and...play somewhere."

Hyacinth knew better than to argue with Anthony, rolling her eyes before leaving. (Y/N) pursed her lips at her husband's behaviour.

"Did I ever mention how amazing you are with children?"

Anthony smirked."Well, it's a bit late to be getting lessons on childcare, isn't it?"

(Y/N) giggled, taking Anthony's hand and placing it on her bump. Anthony loved touching her growing bump. It had been strange to see his wife changing shape before his eyes. He was so used to her body having run his hands over every angle, seeing it every day from the time they were married. But it made him fall even more in love with her, if that was even possible. Anthony could write a hundred pages expressing his love for his wife, and it would still never be enough.

"I still can't believe we're having a baby." he breathed out.

(Y/N) scoffed."Are you saying I've always looked like this?"

Anthony laughed."Of course not. But no matter how much you talk about such a thing, no matter how much preparation you do, it just seems surreal."

(Y/N) hummed in response, putting her hand on top of his."I've loved carrying them, but it is time for them to come out into the world."

"Still not saying whether it's a boy or girl?"

(Y/N) shook her head."I just don't feel one way about it. Not that I care about that, as long as they're healthy."

"I still say boy."

"You would."

"You just said you didn't care."

"I don't."

"(Y/N), please can you just promise me one thing?"

"Anthony, I am not staying in bed-"

"Stay by my side as much as possible. The baby is due soon and I want to ensure you are safe when the time comes."

"Oh, Anthony, I'm with you for a majority of the day anyway."

"I know but, if there are moments where I am not present, I want to have a sound mind that you are in safe hands, such as family or a member of staff."

"Well, you know I'm not going to be leaving the house, much to my annoyance. So I will be guarded all day and night."

"You're making it sound like you're a prisoner."

"I'm just being dramatic. I just want to meet our child now."

"Well, I can't deny either of those statements."

Anthony wasn't exaggerating when he said he wanted (Y/N) beside him at all times. From then on, they were seen with each other anywhere they went in the house. Anthony didn't go out as much as he did, and he instructed there always be staff in every room and corridor. She didn't mind it, however, as her due date grew closer, the more nervous she became. Unfortunately, that meant her temper was shorter, she became more snappy and tired, and she didn't want everyone constantly reminding her that she was about to give birth. (Y/N) tried so hard to not take it out on her husband, but because he was the one always beside her, he was the only person she could lash out at.

"Anthony, I'm sorry but I just need a few moments alone. I'll return soon, just...let me calm down. I'm sorry." she apologised as she walked away from him, having screamed about how frustrated she was.

She didn't hide her deep breathing as she waddled down the corridors, passing by staff that worryingly watched her. (Y/N) wanted to calm her heart rate, try and clear her mind. Feeling too many eyes on her, (Y/N) escaped into the nearest room, slamming the door shut behind her.

"(Y/N)?" Hyacinth said behind her.

(Y/N) sighed. Would she ever be alone again?

"What are you doing in my playroom? I thought you would be with Anthony."

She was playing with her dolls, three propped up in mini chairs, as was she, as they indulged in an imaginary afternoon tea. (Y/N) couldn't help but smile at that, envisioning her child playing in this room.

"Sorry darling, I just...I needed some time away from the grown ups."

"Oh, alright. Would you like to join us for tea?" she gestured to the chair beside her, causing (Y/N) to laugh.

"I don't think I would fit in that chair, even if I wasn't with child. I'll take the rocking chair. You carry on darling, I'm sorry for the interruption."

Her aching feet carried her to the chair, cautiously lowering down onto it. She rocked her heels back and forth, though did so slowly in case it caused any nausea. Hyacinth continued her game as if (Y/N) wasn't there, but kept her voice quiet to be respectful. (Y/N) closed her eyes, finally feeling the stress lift for just a moment when a jolt of pain in her stomach startled her. It made her let out a cry, clutching onto her bump as she leaned forward. Hyacinth jumped at the sudden noise, suddenly frightened at the way (Y/N) sounded and looked.

(Y/N)'s breathing got faster and deeper, yelling out as an unbearable feeling coursed through her. Her hands wrapped around her torso, willing the feeling to stop. A shocked noise escaped her when she felt herself go wet in the chair, liquid dripping down her legs.

"Hyacinth, get Anthony!" (Y/N) groaned, thankful a staff member rushed in. Hyacinth didn't have to be told twice, running as quickly as she could to fetch her brother. She had never seen anyone in such a state, no one had ever mentioned this pain when having a baby. Tears were in her eyes as she finally found Anthony, who was standing with her two other brothers at the staircase.

"Hyacinth, what's wrong?" Benedict was the first to notice the little girl running towards him.

She immediately grabbed Anthony's hand, gripping tightly onto it."Quickly!"

"What's happened?" Anthony asked her her fretting.

"(Y/N)'s having the baby!"

A second of silence passed before Anthony sprinted in the direction his sister came from. He only had to follow the sound of screaming to find his wife. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen, she was meant to be upstairs in a comfortable position, surrounded by women staff that were prepared. He halted in the doorway when he saw her clutching onto the servant's arm as she struggled to stand from the chair. He snapped an order at another servant who followed him. The doctor had to get here as soon as possible, and the other students needed to prepare immediately.

"It's alright my love, I'm here. The doctor is on his way." Anthony reassured her as he took her other arm.

"I'm in so much pain Anthony." she wept."I can't do it, I can't do it, I don't have control over my own body. I'm frightened!"

Anthony's heart was shattering into a million pieces seeing his wife like this. He couldn't do anything to help. He couldn't ease the pain. If he could, he would take all of the pain she had and endure it himself. Anthony was a mix of emotions; fear for his wife, excitement to meet his child, terrified at (Y/N)'a reactions and noises. It was all too much, nothing would have prepared him for this.

"Anthony, you must leave!" Violet suddenly appeared.

"Mama, I can't leave her-"

"You wouldn’t want to see this Anthony. Go wait for the doctor, we all know what we’re doing here.”

Anthony knew of the steps to take in this event, it was not proper for a man to be present during the ordeal of birthing. But the love for (Y/N) was urging him to stay and protect her, that was what he was supposed to do as a husband, not abandon her. They went through everything together. Now he was being told to leave because of societies rules.

Benedict and Colin were able to pull away Anthony easier than they thought, due to him being frozen and confused about what he should do. He only registered that (Y/N) was calling for him after they left the room. Fighting against his brothers hold, he ignored their please for him to stop. They didn’t understand. They weren’t married, they had no idea what it was like to be bonded with someone in this way. However, he knew they were right, he had to stay away. All he could do now was help her from outside of the room.

“Where is the doctor?!” he demanded to know from the nearest servant.

“H-he has b-been called upon, Lord Bridgerton.” they stuttered.

“As soon as he arrives, he is to be brought here, quickly! Gather pillows, as many as you can, and blankets, we must ensure my wife is as comfortable as she can be. She should have been giving birth in a bed!”

Benedict and Colin stood back in silence, shocked by the quick turn around in their brother’s behaviour. They didn’t dare say anything in case they were snapped at. 

(Y/N) was clinging onto Violet’s hand as she screamed, hating the way her body had taken over and she couldn’t take back control. Violet remained calm, knowing that (Y/N) could do this. She had birthed all of her children with no complications, she knew how much women had to endure, so Violet was equipped with the necessary grit and vigour to help her daughter-in-law. (Y/N) was grateful to have Violet there.

A gruelling eight hours passed, filled with (Y/N) screaming, crying, cursing, pleading and begging for Anthony. It took every ounce of his willpower to not dash back to her, he would never forgive himself for this. He wished he could change the rules so he could be beside her. He paced with a strong drink in his hand for those eight hours, his brothers sitting down, trying to support him. However, it was getting late, and they found themselves struggling to keep their eyes open. Anthony had got rid of his jacket, sleeves rolled up and shirt buttons undone as he got warm, fretting over what was happening to (Y/N). 

“Lord Bridgerton!” a servant exclaimed as they entered the room, trying to stay composed. 

The men perked up, suddenly awake. Anthony noticed the servant was smiling, which made him relieved.“What is it?”

“Lady Bridgerton has given birth.”

Anthony didn’t need to hear anything else. He instantly ran to where his poor wife had been in labour. Hyacinth would never step foot in that room again. He pushed past anyone that got in his way, halting at the open doors to the playroom. The first thing he saw was blood, a lot of it, alarmed at the sight. But as he entered the room, it was forgotten about when he saw (Y/N)’s grin aimed at the baby wriggling around in her arms. His steps were slow as he approached, scared that he would disturb the peace that had finally fallen in this room. 

“Anthony.” (Y/N) breathed out, clearly exhausted. 

“I’m sorry.” was all Anthony could manage, eyes still fixed on his child. 

“For what?”

“For not being here.”

“You’re here now, and I understand darling. Now come meet your son.”

Anthony’s eyes widened.“I-I have a son? We have a baby boy?”

The doctor who had been crouched beside (Y/N) smiled at the Lord, standing to give the couple their space.“Yes, Lord Bridgerton, you’re now a father and have a son, who is very healthy, just like his mother.”

Violet also backed away, beaming down at her eldest son. She had never imagined him married and settled down so quickly, she expected to have many more years of her son fooling around with women not of a certain standard. Once (Y/N) waltzed in, Violet had seen a change in Anthony, and hope was restored in the Viscount.

“He’s finally here.” (Y/N) smiled as Anthony sat beside her.

“He really is.” one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, whilst the other supported her arms holding the baby.“You’re amazing. You did this (Y/N).”

“We did it.”

“No, no, you did this all by yourself. I’ll be with you every time form now on.”

“Every time? How many are you planning to have?”

He chuckled.“We’ll discuss that later.”

(Y/N) giggled, gently kissing the top of their baby’s forehead. Anthony couldn’t stop smiling, repeating (Y/N)’s actions to her. He had never envisioned this, he didn’t want to be trapped in this life at first. He had so many responsibilities dumped on him after his father died, he wanted to make sure his family was secure and have the freedom for himself; until he met (Y/N), and suddenly, he could see his entire future planned in front of him with this woman. He never fathomed that his heart could give anymore love for anyone else in this world, and he had been proven wrong. (Y/N) was the love of his life, as was his son, and he would protect and cherish them for the rest of his life. 

[mostly-marvel-musings]

DIY

A/N: This wasn’t planned. Or was it? @babyboibucky and @lil-stark Hope y’all like it!

Not my gif! Credits to the owner.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: 18+, a little breast kink, soft pregnancy smut, tons of domestic fluff.

Word count: 1400

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Taglist: @marvelgirl7 @mycosmicparadise @feetoffthetablee

Everything Taglist: @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry

Taglists are open folks! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be tagged :))

.

Afternoon naps during the weekends had become a new favourite activity of yours. Waddling around the house with a heavily pregnant belly tired you out beyond belief, forcing you to take cat naps every chance you got. Bucky had developed a habit of joining you almost always because he never wished to miss a chance of holding you while you slept, also because he knew you were having trouble sleeping in the night.

There had been so many occasions when you would wake up only to find your husband gazing at your belly, hands lightly caressing while he whispered about anything and everything to the baby. The sight would fill your heart with love every single time, it had even brought you to tears the first time he did it.

However today, as sleep made it’s exit, you couldn’t find Bucky lying next to you where he usually was, instead there was some muffled cursing and muted thuds coming in from the nursery.

Pulling on Bucky’s old sweater, you padded towards the room to find him focused on his task at hand which was trying to read the instructions given on the manual of the crib you had purchased the day before.

He eyed the pieces of furniture he was supposed to put together warily before giving a confident nod to himself, as if mentally assuring himself that he could do it. And that was just too adorable to watch.

Leaning against the doorway, you stared at the love of your life for a while before announcing your arrival by clearing your throat.

“I thought we were going to do this together.”

Bucky glanced up in surprise before his face softened and he gave you a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck.

“I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You shook your head and made your way towards him, stopping when your swollen belly met his flat one and giving him a small peck on the cheek.

“So, you figure this thing out?”

“I think so. You wanna help?” He asked softly,

hands automatically placing themselves on your bump. Bucky couldn’t help but get a little excited seeing his clothes on your pregnant body, even though you had been doing that for years. According to him, you’d never looked more radiant.

“Alright let’s build this crib.”

.

Fifteen minutes into it and you found yourself getting irritated and snippy because Bucky wasn’t following the directions you’d been giving him.

“Are you sure that’s the right way?”

“Yes doll, I’m sure.”

“Because that’s not what’s given here—”

“I know what I’m doing (Y/N)!”

He snapped, clenching his jaw as he stared at you as you held up the instructions manual for him to see.

“Fine. Seems like you don’t need my help after all! Have fun.”

You threw the piece of paper on the floor and stormed back to the bedroom, nostrils flared and fists balled up tight. It was probably an unnecessarily extreme reaction but you couldn’t help it, your hormones were on overdrive.

Pacing about the room, you took a few cleansing breaths, ready to apologise for your outburst when Bucky walked in silently.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you sweetheart.” He spoke first.

“I’m sorry too Buck, I just I don’t know why I get this hyper so easily, it’s my—”

“Pregnancy brain, I know.” He nodded, giving you a small smile, the kind that asked permission to call a truce and move past the whole thing.

“How is my little girl?”

“She’s sleeping. But Mommie’s wide awake…”

He chuckled and approached you once he saw you grinning wide, pulling you close to capture your lips in a soft kiss. He broke the kiss but you grabbed him by the back of the neck to resume, murmuring a ‘not done yet’ against his mouth.

Bucky grazed his hands along your bare legs upwards, taking his sweater with them, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Your tongues danced in harmony until you broke apart only to throw the piece of clothing out of the way.

He took his time to let his darkened eyes rake over your naked form, the kind of look that made your pussy quiver in anticipation. There were times when you’d get aware of the fact that your body looked awkward and bloated because that’s how it felt for months, but not to Bucky. He was mesmerised by the way your beautiful body adapted to this new phase, the way your body shape changed to accomodate a baby, his baby.

He loved how sensitive it had gotten over these last few months, the way your breasts had swelled up in size along with your belly.

“So beautiful…” he whispered before guiding you over to the bed, helping you to climb on top of him after he’d removed his own clothing.

You had been a little extra sensitive and uninhibited in all departments during pregnancy, including all those times wanting to ride Bucky hard at any chance you got. It was almost a second craving along with those weird food demands you were making, all of which was considered normal in the ten thousand books he had got for you to read.

You licked your lips at the sight of Bucky’s erection waiting so eagerly for your warm touch before wrapping a hand around the length, a few pumps and a flick of your thumb to collect the precum later, you maneuvered yourself so your entrance lined up. Pulling your damp panties aside, you sunk down on his cock slowly, eliciting a sinful groan from his mouth.

The feeling of being so stretched out made you throw your head back and sigh as you stayed in that position, giving yourself some time to adjust.

Your hips rolled against his own at a languid pace as you anchored your hands on his chest, your hair cascading around your face before Bucky gently pulled them aside to watch your face.

His pubic bone grazed against your clit with every move as you rode him, your shallow breaths and pants filling the room. Your eyes fluttered shut when you felt his metal hand come up to fondle your breasts.

Sitting up as best as he could, he latched his mouth around your nipple and sucked, making you cry out loud while his hand attended to the other one with gentleness. They felt heavier in Bucky’s hand, full of milk meant to feed and nourish your child after she would arrive. They were for him now, today to caress, to love and cherish.

“I can feel you’re getting close, doll.” He breathed, laying back down and bringing his flesh hand over to your stimulated nub, rubbing it in tight circles.

“Fuck that’s it. Keep doing that.”

He obliged, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, you felt your insides tighten and walls flutter around his cock before you let go. A loud cry escaped your mouth as the coil in your belly snapped and you shuddered, the intensity of your orgasm triggered Bucky’s as he dug his fingers in your hips, grabbing them roughly.

A few sloppy thrusts into your quivering pussy was all it took for him to paint your walls with thick ropes of cum, his head thrown back and a look of bliss on his features.

He laid you down on your back carefully after pulling out, watching his cum dribble out onto your thighs before he cleaned you up with a washcloth and returned to bed.

Your skin was flushed and a lazy grin decorated your face as he nuzzled his face into your neck, pressing feather light kisses there while running a hand all over your heated body.

He felt his little girl kick against his hand as he splayed it across your bump, making you look at each other and back down where she kept nudging, letting you know it was time to eat.

“Alright alright! I’m getting up. You want Daddy to make his delicious grilled cheese?”

Your eyes held a glint mischief as you looked at Bucky, giving him your best puppy dog look which you knew always worked.

“Come on Momma bear. I’ll make you all the grilled cheeses you want.”

[luvnami]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - wahh it’s here! can’t believe my brainrot of osamu teaching a cooking class turned into this long fic lol... i hope you enjoy it!! it was fun crafting the story with my beta readers and i put a lot of effort into it!!! itadakimasu <3

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 - @forgetou​ @amjustagirl​ (muacks 2x) + tq to everyone who helped me with the banner!!

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - you’re suna’s younger sibling, food, heartbreak, angst but happy ending, mentions of stabbing (joke), kita dances to ‘ice cream’ by selena gomez and blackpink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood (brief), suna beats (redacted) up

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - miya osamu x gn!reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - you fall in love with miya osamu once more, but you’re afraid of getting hurt again.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 5535

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 | 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢

1. Cook the rice according to your rice cooker, then transfer the cooked rice to a separate bowl to cool it down.

“What ya want t’do is scorch the soy sauce.”

The class presses themselves against Osamu’s workbench as they scribble down notes on their recipe printouts. Their lips purse to ooh and aah at his cooking skills, though you’re pretty sure that they’re more interested in how his biceps flex when he flips the wok with a trained flick of the wrist. 

You stand at the very edge of the group. It’s better than getting close with a group of hungry housewives, really. If grocery store and department mall sales have ever told you anything, it’s to never get in the way of what a seasoned housewife wants. Unfortunately for you, you haven’t learnt the way of being a homemaker just yet. 

You’re unemployed, right in the middle of a month and a half-ish long transfer between jobs. You currently stay at your brother Suna’s place — which is really just an apartment filled with dirty laundry overflowing from its seams.

Turns out Suna himself is a bit of a gossip.  He told Kita who told Atsumu who told Osamu that you’re stuck at his place 24/7 with no friends or entertainment in the lovely city of Nagano. It’s just mountains and trees as far as the eye can see all around — and there’s only so many hikes you can take each week. 

“Why don’t you take a cookin’ class?” 

“Cookin’?” Your face screwed up in confusion. “ What for?”

“So that you can actually pull your weight around the house and make me something to eat.”

You chucked a pillow at his head and began to list all the things you did while staying at his apartment. Laundry, cleaning the floor, doing grocery shopping (even if it was only instant noodles and snacks), finding his disgustingly sweaty socks under the sofa and many other important chores, thank you very much.

Besides, you weren’t as eager when you saw who was the one that would be holding the classes. With his picture plastered across the front of a pamphlet, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. Years of chasing his dreams and training in a kitchen had done Osamu wonders. 

You had half a mind to smack Suna in the head with the yellow, glossy paper, but instead you quietly tucked it into a corner of the guest room to look at later. You were sure Suna hadn’t forgotten your history with Osamu just yet — but perhaps he assumed that enough time had passed to heal your wounds.

Either way, there’s no going back now. That’s how you ended up at Osamu’s ‘Cooking class for homemakers — you can do it too!’, except you aren’t a homemaker. You shift your weight from one foot to the other as the sound of sizzling soy sauce fills the air. Osamu pauses for a while before beginning to mix the rice with the sauce, wielding his spatula and wok expertly like weapons.

“Miya-san, you’re amazing!” someone gushes.

He lets out a bashful laugh. “This is nothing. I’m sure everyone will be able to do this by the end of class today!”

You wonder if he’s ever considered being a teacher. The demonstration on how to make shrimp fried rice is soon over and everyone returns to their benches, eager to try out the recipe. You are no different. Scurrying to your bench at the very back of the classroom, you exchange glances between the printed recipe handout and your tray of ingredients.

“Need any help?” 

Osamu’s voice and looming presence makes you jump.

“Woah! Careful there,” he chuckles, his fingers gently prying a knife out of your hands.

Unconsciously, you had raised it in shock when Osamu snuck up on you. The knife now lays safely on the tabletop and you feel the eyes of the entire class boring into you.

“Sorry, Miya-san. I didn’t see you,” you apologise meekly.

“Don’t worry about it, I shouldn't have scared ya like that. And no need for the formalities! You’re my friend’s sister, afta’ all.”

Oh goodness. You half expect the class to pick up their pots and pans and run at you right this moment. You swallow back the half hearted ‘Osamu-san’ that rises in your throat. Your heart trembles in your chest and for a second, the silence that weighs heavily between the both of you turns awkward. 

“Miya-san! Could you help me with this please?” 

You’ve never been so glad to hear Tachibana’s sickly shrill voice before. Osamu is quick to wave goodbye to you before hurrying over to her bench, a smile still on his face. You breathe a sigh of relief. 

You make a mental note to tell Suna that Osamu should just stick to placating those housewives and leave you the hell alone. The last thing you want is to have blackmail spread around the neighbourhood by these gossipy housewives, or worse, have their daughters hunt you down and chop you up into pieces.

Whatever. You’re just here to learn how to make shrimp fried rice and then go home to your annoying older brother. Besides, it’s not like you’ll be here for long. Miya Osamu just happens to be the local heartthrob, the handsome and eligible bachelor chased by anyone single and ready to mingle. You have absolutely nothing to do with someone so popular and good-looking. And for goodness sake, he’s your brother’s high school friend and your… Well, you know. 

Your face burns and you pick up the knife again, grip tightening on its handle. You begin chopping at the onions with renewed determination.

(Later on, when you bring back a tupperware of fried rice for Suna, he looks you in the eye and asks “Shrimp fried this rice?”.

You shoot him a glare.

“I fried this rice.”)

2. Prepare all the fillings that you are going to use and set aside, such as pickled plums or tuna mayo. Prepare your seaweed sheets.

What you don’t expect is for Miya Osamu to show up at your doorstep the next day with boxes of food, cartons of drinks and a very noisy brother of his in tow. 

“Rin, where can I leave the drinks?” Osamu yells.

“Rin, can I play your PS5?” Atsumu shouts.

You think that they are very different, the Miya twins. Suna takes a minute to finish putting on some clothes (you had answered the door, thankfully. No one wants to see Suna Rintarou in Pikachu boxers) before bursting out of his room.

He’s quick to smack Atsumu’s ‘dirty little setter hands’ away from his precious Playstation, directing Osamu to what constitutes the apartment’s kitchen — a second-hand fridge and the building-installed gas stove that works only if you hit it hard enough. You’re surprised that neither you or Suna haven't died of a house fire or gas poisoning by now.

It doesn’t take long for the other Inarizaki alumni to arrive at Suna’s apartment in a series of doorbell rings. Kita even brings along a large bottle of sake, to which everyone cheers loudly. You don’t understand why they had chosen Suna’s place to have a reunion party. Seriously, wouldn't Onigiri Miya or some other izakaya have been a better choice?

However, there’s free flow of drinks and lots of yummy snacks, so you decide to let the noise wash over you and stand by the food table to pick at the trays of pizza, fried chicken and other finger food. Aran even offers you a drink, smiling sweetly before going off to wrangle Atsumu from trying to initiate a beer chugging competition. Some things just never change, you suppose.

“Having fun?”

You jump and nearly drop the plate of food that you hold.

“You have a horrible habit of scaring people, Miya- Osamu.”

His first name comes out awkward, tumbling off of your tongue as you use a pair of chopsticks to carefully pile back some mentaiko mayonnaise onto a slice of tamagoyaki. Osamu settles into the crook of the kitchen counter next to you with a playful grin on his face.

“Do I really?”

“Don’t forget that the first time you did that, someone nearly got stabbed.”

You pop the tamagoyaki into your mouth. It’s delicious — the egg’s sweetness balances out the salty sauce. You wonder if there’s enough left on the tray for seconds. 

“How’s the reunion going?” you ask nonchalantly, and shuffle a few centimetres away from him.

You hope Osamu doesn’t notice that. He does, however, but chooses not to comment on it. He brings up a hand to scratch at his neck, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. He’s close enough for you to get a whiff of whatever cologne he’s wearing. Your head spins for a second. 

“Oh, none of us have gotten drunk just yet. I’m pretty sure we’ll be playing beer pong or something later on.”

You steel yourself against the urge to look at what Osamu is wearing. Don’t look, don’t look, definitely don’t look. Miya Osamu is, has been, a dangerous man to fall in love with. You can’t afford to- 

Perhaps gouging your eyes out would have been a better choice in theory. Even a glance from where you stand beside him is enough to see that not only is he wearing a tight, black T-shirt, Osamu also has a pair of sweatpants on. Is it a sin to wear sweatpants? Probably so, especially with the way it makes your throat run dry. 

“Beer pong, huh?” You try your best to mumble somewhat nonchalantly. “Who won the last time?”

“Kita.”

“Kita?!” you gasp. 

Even that’s enough to make you forget about Osamu and his stupid (and very sexy) sweatpants. 

“Yeah, right? That was the first time he participated. All of us got left drunk in the street, so we decided to do it at someone’s place this year.”

You let out a soft laugh at the thought of a bunch of grown men piled over each other on the road. You don’t particularly like the thought of cleaning up after them tonight, though. 

The lack of words between you and Osamu descends into snorts of laughter that trickle in from the tiny living room. Aran throws his head back, drink nearly spilling out of his cup. Ginjima laughs so loud you see Omiomi cover his ears and Suna holds his phone up, filming every second of Atsumu’s defeat. 

Osamu opens his mouth as if to ask you something.

“C’mon! Yer killin’ me, Kita-san!” Atsumu yells, socked feet and waving arms trying to match the onscreen character’s movements.

Kita, on the other hand, is scoring perfect marks without as much effort wasted. You giggle to yourself as he moves his hips, shaking them here and there. A small smile quirks his lips upwards as he finishes with a flawless ending move on ‘Ice Cream’, the Just Dance characters fading into oblivion on the screen. Atsumu crumbles to the floor in defeat. 

Osamu’s lips form a straight line as he watches you laugh along, raising a hand to cover your mouth. He curses Atsumu’s birth and swallows back his embarrassment.

“Did ya see that, Osamu? Oh- Kita-san is so good at everything!” you gush.

“Atsumu just sucks.”

When you laugh, Osamu thinks something in his chest lurches. Regret makes his head go foggy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

3. Place cling wrap over a rice bowl. Place some of the cooked rice over the centre of the cling wrap and make a well.

“No way ya got a love letter!” Atsumu yelled.

“Ya get yer fair share. We share t’same face, why shouldn’t I get some?” Osamu retorted, rolling his eyes. 

Suna watched as the twins began to gripe and argue about who was the better looking sibling again. Nothing unusual, really, given how this occurred every odd day of the week.

“S’gotta be a prank. No way someone likes a loser like you,” Suna mused.

In retaliation, Osamu threw him a stink eye. “You two are just jealous,” he sniffed.

The letter had been written on pretty pink paper, all hearts and cute handwriting as his secret admirer asked him to meet them on the roof after school. Not that Osamu wasn’t affected by it, of course. It always rubbed his ego the right way to know that someone preferred him over Atsumu. Though, it wasn’t like he was interested in anyone then. It only took a second before Osamu ripped the letter in half.

“Woah woah woah! Yer crazy! Whatcha gonna do if some pretty girl gave that to ya?” 

Atsumu’s eyes widened in shock, almost reaching forward to grab the shreds of letter that Osamu had torn up. 

“Does it matter? S’not like I’m interested in datin’ right now,” he replied.

“Seriously? What if she’s like, super duper hot!”

Osamu’s face screwed up. “Are ya a horndog?”

Just as Atsumu was about to shout at his dear brother again, you opened the door to their classroom and hurried in. You had a bento box in hand and a cute pout on your face as you placed it on Suna’s table.

“Rin! You forgot your bento at home again!” 

“Oh.” Suna blinked. “Thanks.”

“Seriously, you gotta stop forgetting your things! I can’t be bringing them to you all the time-”

“Hey, Suna.” Atsumu perked up, referring to you. “Would ya go on a date with Samu or me? Me, right? Definitely me!”

Your face flushed with heat. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“‘Samu got a love letter in his shoe locker this morning. Cliche, huh?” your brother said between bites of his lunch. 

“Mm, yeah. Cliche,” you mumbled. 

You looked around anxiously for any sign of the love letter. Was it in Osamu’s bag? 

“Can ya believe he tore it up?” Atsumu laughed.

“What?”

Your heart felt like a stone in your chest as you froze, your blood running cold. 

“Yeah! This dumbass doesn’t know how t’appreciate anythin’,” he replied, smacking Osamu on the back of his head.

His twin responded with a muffled growl as he continued to scarf down his absurdly large bento. You fiddled with the cuffs of your sleeves, staring down at your feet. You were quick to bid the third years goodbye as you fled their classroom as an inexplicable ache spread through your chest. 

You didn’t focus on your classes for the rest of the day. The fact that Osamu had torn your love letter, written with all your heart and soul as you crumpled draft after draft last night, tipped you over the edge of your fantasies and had you plummeting straight into reality. 

“Oi.”

You looked up from your feet, glancing up at Suna. The both of you were swapping your indoor shoes for outdoor ones, but you had absentmindedly stopped in the middle of slipping your right foot into a shoe. It was nearing the time where they closed the school gates, so there weren’t many students around save for the odd volleyball club member.

“What’re you doing? Put your shoes on properly,” he huffed.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, and slammed the locker door shut once you were done.

You walked a few feet ahead of Suna as you approached the school gate. Your head drooped with each step, tears beginning to mist your eyes. You willed yourself to hold it in till you got home, till you were in the safety of your bedroom to start sobbing your little heart out. Suna tugged on your wrist.

“Are you crying?” he questioned.  

You shook your head quickly, rubbing your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

“Oi. Answer me.”

This time, his voice was a little softer, yet held a mixture of irritation and anger behind a crumbling wall of apathy. Who had been the one to make you cry? 

“It’s nothin’,” you choked out. “Let’s just go home.”

You turned your face to the side as tears continued to roll down your cheeks, muffled cries turning into heartbroken sobs. Something inside of Suna’s head clicked. 

“It’s Miya Osamu, isn’t it?” 

You had to bite on your lower lip to stop it from trembling.

“That bastard tore up your letter, didn’t he?”

You gave Suna the tiniest of nods. He let go of your wrist and whipped around, eyebrows furrowed together. Not wanting to date was one thing, but treating your confession like dog shit was something else. Fortunately for him, the Miya twins were changing their shoes in the getabako.

“‘Samu!” Suna yelled.

The gray haired male looked up with a face of confusion.

“Suna? Whaddya want-” Osamu wasn’t able to say anything more as Suna’s fist collided with his face.

Atsumu jumped back with a yelp as the both of them crashed to the ground. Your hands flew to cover your mouth.

“Rin! Stop it!” you cried out.

You dashed over, tripping over your own feet as you tried to pull Suna away from Osamu as they traded blows. It took the work of you, Atsumu and Ginjima (who had been unlucky enough to pass by) to tear the two apart, and even then Osamu was still struggling in his brother’s arms to be let go.

“What t’hell, man!” he snarled. 

Suna wiped his nose, glancing briefly at the crimson that stained his school uniform. The adrenaline was beginning to run low and pain began to settle into his fists and ribs. His shoulders heaved with each breath, and your hands clutched his shirt.

“Rin. No more, please,” you begged, pressing your forehead against his back. “No more.”

Suna hated the way your voice trembled as you spoke. He didn’t think it was fair for you to bear the burden of pain while Osamu got to walk away unscathed, leaving you broken in pieces. His fist curled up again.

“It’s not worth it, Rin.”

Suna took in a shaky, deep breath.

You were right.

Miya Osamu wasn’t worth it. 

4. Put about 1tbsp of the filling of your choice on the centre of the rice and cover it with rice.

A week comes and goes after the annual Inarizaki reunion. You’re still finding sticky stains on the floor, as well as food wrappers tossed behind the sofa. Suna sends the group chat a video of you yelling at all of them while wielding a mop with so much fervour Aran asks if you broke it. Atsumu actually apologises and Osamu offers to come over and help clean up. The entire group chat flames him immediately.

As per last week, you walk into Osamu’s cooking class at 2p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. It’s hot outside, droplets of perspiration rolling down your nape. The cool air-conditioning of the classroom is much appreciated and you don your apron behind the gaggle of housewives. You catch snippets of their conversation as they put their items in the cubbies provided. 

“Tanaka-san, did you see the mushrooms that were on sale this Monday?”

“My son is attending this cram school this summer. Here’s the address!”

“My father-in-law keeps complaining about the heat…”

“Good afternoon, everyone.”

“Miya-san!”

Everyone perks up when Osamu walks through the door. They’re quick to surround him, asking how his day had been. You look tired, take this ginseng drink! It really revitalises your spirits! Did you get a girlfriend yet, Miya-san? My daughter is single, you know! 

You watch as Osamu walks behind his bench, all smiles and “Is that so, Shigeru-san?”. Polite enough to please them, but not enough to make them think that he actually wants to go on a date with their 34 year-old daughter who’s a tired office worker looking out for potential husbands like a hawk. He lets out a heavy exhale, using his cap with the Onigiri Miya logo on it to fan himself.

“Hot today, isn’t it?” he chuckles.

You think that maybe he’s the one that’s making this summer so warm, especially with the way that his shirt clings to his figure and his flushed cheeks that make him look adorable. 

Wait.

You do a double take. Ah, adorable. You must have meant that heart-print apron that Tanaka is wearing today. It is pretty cute, and you wonder if you should ask her where she got it from later on. Definitely not Osamu with his perfect smile that would make anyone’s heart skip a beat, and definitely not when it’s directed at you.

“Gather around everyone! We’re going to be making gyoza today!”

The demonstration goes as usual — Osamu impresses the housewives, they gasp and someone even touches his forearm and asks “How did you get so strong, Miya-san?”. Not that you care, of course. You certainly don’t. What you’re more concerned about is how Osamu manages to make wrapping the fragile gyoza seem so easy. 

Your fingers pinch at the thick dough, eyebrows furrowed together. No matter what you do, your filling keeps spilling out of the wrapper and so you’ve opted to try out for a thicker piece this time. Not that it really matters — Suna will be the one suffering from food poisoning if it turns out bad, anyways.

“Ah, yer made it too thick,” Osamu says as he strolls over. 

You tense up as he leans over your shoulder, peeking at the chubby gyoza in your hands. You pretend not be affected by how close he is and continue pinching the wings of the dumpling shut.

“They keep bursting,” you sniff. 

“Maybe ya put t’much filling?” Osamu suggests. “Here, lemme show ya. Put tha’ one down and grab a new wrapper. Yeah, just like that.”

You stiffen as Osamu flours his hands and cradles your hands in his. 

“Here ya go. That’s t’much, scoop out some more. That’s it. Now gently…”

Blood rushes to your face as you feel the warmth of his skin seep into yours, his hands rough from years of training and cooking. Scars adorn the tips of his thick fingers and knuckles. You suddenly feel the urge to gently trace them with your thumb, to ask him how he got each one of them. 

Would he let you? Let you so close, that perhaps you would be the one to know every single thing about him?

“You did it!” Osamu says cheerfully. 

He suddenly pulls away, making you plummet back to reality. A perfectly made gyoza sits in your hands.

“I’m looking forward to tasting your gyoza later on. Now keep trying!” 

You’re left dumbfounded as Osamu walks away to help out the other housewives. They stammer and blush when they get too close, but he never holds their hands in his own, never smiles as gently as he does with you.

You place the gyoza on a pan and put the lid on with a little bit more force than what is necessary.

5. Wrap the cling wrap over the rice and squeeze and mould it into a triangle shape with your hands.

You try not to make contact with Osamu after that. Attending his cooking classes becomes a game of cat-and-mouse, where you try to tell him ‘I don’t need any help, Miya-san’ and watch him crawl away in defeat. In fact, you decide to skip the lesson on making hamburgs and instead spend the afternoon watching television.

After all, from what you’ve learnt in the past, Osamu is nothing more than trouble. You think it’s worth the sacrifice now to put some space between the both of you so that you don’t end up heartbroken a second time. 

Though, you do feel a little bad. Just a little bit. One day when Suna’s out at training, you hear the doorbell ring and Osamu’s voice ring through the genkan. You hear his feet shuffle by the door and a heavy thump outside before he leaves. You only open the door when you hear his car pull out of the apartment building’s carpark, and find a packed bento lunch for you in front.

You try to pretend that the bunny cut apples and sakura shaped carrot slices don’t mean anything.

“Ah, Suna-san! Where were you last week?” Tachibana titters as you step into class for the final lesson.

“I wasn’t feeling very well,” you lie. “I think I caught a summer cold.”

“Oh dear, that sounds terrible!” the ladies chorus together. 

You think they’re probably just glad that you didn’t get in the way of their beloved Miya-san. You tug your apron over your head, and ignore Osamu when he greets everyone. His eyes linger on you for a little too long during the demonstration — to the point that he actually burns the skin side of his salmon fillet.

Osamu skirts around your bench like a nervous puppy when the demonstration is over. You don’t seem particularly keen about talking to him, though the tips of your finger tremble when he finally plucks up the courage to stand next to you. It’s not close enough for your elbows to touch, but close enough that he can whisper to you without anyone else hearing him.

“Hey,” he begins, uncertain. His voice wavers slightly.

“Hey,” you reply, wary of what he might say. 

“Are you okay?”

You take a moment to think, tipping the sake bottle carefully to measure out an exact tablespoon of it. He wonders when your hands have seemed so delicate, so small. He aches to hold them in his own again. 

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good.”

It’s quiet, again. Just like that night in Suna’s apartment, with all the noise of the reunion going on around you, except this time it's the clanging of pans and utensils, paired with the chatter of many ladies. 

“I was thinking…” Osamu stares down at your hands, turning the measuring spoon over so that sake splashes onto the hot pan with a sizzle. “Maybe we could get a drink together after this?”

You cover the pan and watch its surface cloud up with condensation. You hide your shaking hands by digging them into the pockets of your apron. 

Osamu swallows. Perhaps he had been too direct with you; scared you off with how quickly he was advancing. Or did Suna tell you to be careful of him? That he didn’t want you falling in love with him a second time? There’s no lie about it, that Osamu had been a grade A asshole back in high school.

But he loves you now; has loved you since then. Would you be willing to give him a second chance?

“Osamu,” you breathe.

His shoulders relax slightly when you don’t call him by his last name. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

Your voice comes out timid, scared. Osamu’s heart crumbles at the edges. He wonders if you would hate him if he reached out and took your hands in his once more. You’re both adults, perfectly capable of rational thinking if only your hearts hadn’t gotten in the way. Love hurts, they said. You want to agree. 

“We can start it out slow,” Osamu suggests.

“I’m supposed to start my new job next month. I won't be in Nagano for much longer.”

“I’m opening a branch in Tokyo.”

“I’ll be busy settling down. We might not get to see each other often enough.”

“A little is better than nothin’.”

“You’re my brother’s friend.”

“Now, yer just picking at nothing, babe. Didn’t you have a crush on me back in high school, too? That didn’t stop ya, did it?”

Your heart wrestles with your brain, insisting on comfort and that love will always come in the form of someone that isn’t Miya Osamu. You’ll find someone, but will they be better? Will they send food to your doorstep, or send you stupid photos of dogs he saw on the street? Will they chase after you relentlessly for years, will they be Osamu?

A lump forms in your throat and you wonder if this, has been, is love. You tear your heart out from within you and let it cling to your sleeve, as pathetic and scared it is. You don’t mind if it hurts. To never hurt is to never have lived, to never have loved. 

By this point, your eyes have misted up with tears and it hits you- You’re about to cry about your crush in the middle of a cooking class attended by middle-aged ladies. You’ve never been more embarrassed. 

“Really?” you whisper, looking up at Osamu with glittering eyes. 

He ignores the “Miya-san! I need your help!” that rings out in the background. He smiles gently.

“Yeah, really.”

A tear slips down your face. Osamu lets out a breathy chuckle as he swipes it away with his thumb, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“We’ll talk properly after this, alright?” 

You nod numbly. You watch as he hurries off to Shigeru, gasping when he sees how she had completely butchered her fillet. He turns back to you, trying to hold in a snigger. 

You giggle.

Osamu thinks he wants to hear that laugh forever.

6. Remove the cling wrap and cover the bottom of the rice triangle with a nori sheet and set aside.

“One extra large bonito onigiri with spring onions!” you cry out from the counter.

Back in the kitchen, Osamu and another part-time worker scoop steaming rice out of large vats and use their hands to mould them into perfectly shaped triangles. A scoop of filling goes in and a strip of seaweed is wrapped hastily around the onigiri before it's sent to you to package. You place the onigiri carefully into a box and slip it into a paper bag with the shop’s logo on the front for a take-away order. 

The shop is filled with customers even on a Wednesday afternoon. The clock shows 2p.m., past lunch time, yet you can see a queue that snakes out of the shop and down the alleyway. 

Another long day ahead, you think to yourself. 

“It’s our turn!” a little girl squeals as she takes the bag from you, opening it up to peer at the huge onigiri inside. “Mama! ‘giri!” 

Her mother laughs and pats her head. “Don’t forget to say thank you, Haru.”

The girl turns to you, eyes sparkling. “‘Fank you, Miya-shan!” 

A cheery grin almost splits your face in half. Miya-san. Four years on and it still makes your stomach flip whenever you hear that Osamu’s last name has become yours. It was an easy decision for the both of you to get married, really. You had loved each other for years and all you wanted to do in the end was to spend the rest of your lives together.

You quit your office job just before you got married to help Osamu out with the new Onigiri Miya branches. It took some getting used to, but the familiar customers and bright smiles that you see just by serving onigiri each day makes it worth it. It’s tough work, no doubt. But doing what you enjoy with the man you love is more rewarding than it ever could be.

Though, it’s not like your relationship has always been smooth sailing. There are days when you bicker over something stupid (like how you always forget to close the lid of the rice cooker), or when Osamu insists that he isn’t overworking himself (although his eyebags tell otherwise). But love’s a recipe with a few secret ingredients, and you’ve come to master it over the years. 

“Come back soon!”

The shop is filled with the fragrant scent of freshly cooked rice and bonito flakes being stir-fried into furikake. Customers perch on tiny stools as they scarf down onigiri of different shapes and sizes, licking their fingers clean. A plush toy of Onigiri Miya’s mascot sits on the counter next to a potted plant that Atsumu bought (which is surprisingly still alive).

A photograph of the third Tokyo branch’s grand opening hangs on the wall. You and Osamu hold up a bouquet of flowers, smiling toothily at the camera, your wedding rings glinting in the sunlight. 

“One medium onigiri with tuna mayo, coming right up!”

You jump as Osamu shouts out the order suddenly and you nearly drop the onigiri that he hands to you.

“Woah, careful there,” he chuckles, a hand ghosting the small of your back.

“You have ‘ta stop scaring me, ‘Samu,” you huff and roll your eyes playfully.

Osamu grins at you and the edges of his eyes crinkle up. You place the onigiri safely into its packaging and place it on the counter for a customer to collect, before turning back to plant a kiss on his cheek. Osamu’s face flushes pink and he hurries away, mumbling something about bonito flakes.

Your heart soars in your chest.

Yeah, it has been, will be, worth it. 

7. Repeat the same steps as above to use the rest of the rice with other fillings that you prepared.