#it just froze in place as if the snow had kept it there

[arthursfuckinghat]

"Saw a deer today, it stopped right in front of me.

Maybe it was a trick of the light or the way it moved,

But for a moment, I swear it was you.

I won't say I miss you, I've said that too many times,

But you're still my brother.

My brother under the same endless sky."

[d1stalker]

Second Nature [Logan Howlett]

Summary: In the freezing cold of the wild, you are saved by a man with many secrets. He takes you in, and soon you learn that you’d follow him anywhere. Takes place during The Wolverine (2013)

Warnings: does not accurately follow the events of the movie, hairy logan (heart eyes), misunderstandings

WC: 4.2k - MASTERLIST

----

Northern Canada was just as unforgiving as it was beautiful. The chilled air bit at your skin, and the vast wilderness stretched out endlessly, it was a place where few dare to venture.

It had been days since you’ve seen another soul, your only company being the towering trees and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures in the brush. You weren't not entirely defenceless as a mutant, though your powers were something you keep close to your chest.

The day started like any other—cold, silent, and solitary. You were making your way through the dense forest when you heard it: the deep, guttural growls of a pack of wolves. Your senses went on high alert as you froze, but before you could react, they were upon you. 

There were too many of them. You fought as best you could, using your powers in quick, controlled bursts, but the wolves were relentless, and violent. Just as you thought you might not make it out, a figure burst through the trees. He moved with immense speed, claws extended from his hands—no, not quite claws, but something far more lethal. He tore through the wolves with an ease that spoke of years of experience, and within moments, the threat was gone.

You were left standing in the snow, gaping at the man who had just saved your life. He was wild-looking, with long, tangled hair and a thick beard, his eyes fierce and sharp. He didn’t speak at first, just looked you over, assessing mutely, before finally grunting out a rough, “You alright?”

You nodded, though your heart was still pounding from the encounter. “Yeah, thanks to you.”

“Shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said gruffly. “This place isn’t safe.”

“I can take care of myself,” you replied, though you knew full well how close you had come to an early demise. You didn’t offer any explanation for why you were out here, and he didn’t ask. Instead, he simply turned and started walking away, as if saving your life was just another day for him.

You hesitated for a moment before following him. He didn’t seem to mind, and you were curious about the man who had appeared out of nowhere. He led you back to a small, rough cabin hidden deep in the woods. It was clear he had been living here for a while—there was a worn, lived-in look to the place.

Over the next few days, you found yourself staying in that cabin. The man, who you learned was named Logan, didn’t talk much, but he didn’t seem to mind your presence either. You kept your powers hidden, mainly out of habit, but a part of you was unsure of how he would react if he knew the truth. You knew he was some sort of mutant too, but he had an air of someone who had seen too much, who carried a heavy burden, and you weren’t ready to add to that.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, a quiet companionship developed between you. Logan was still rough around the edges, but there were moments when you caught glimpses of something softer beneath the surface. He was a man who had been through hell and survived, but the scars were still there, etched into his soul.

You weren’t sure when you started to think of him as a friend, but it happened slowly, in the small, unspoken ways you helped each other. He taught you things about the wilderness, how to track and hunt, while you offered a quiet presence that seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.

Then, one day, everything changed. A woman appeared at the cabin, her hair bright red and her demeanour as sharp as a blade. Yukio, she called herself. She had come to find Logan, to tell him that his old friend Yashida was dying and wanted to see him one last time in Japan. Logan was reluctant at first, but Yukio was persistent, and eventually, he agreed.

You hadn’t expected him to invite you along, but when he turned to you with a serious look in his eyes and said, “Come with me,” you found yourself nodding before you could think about it.

----

When you arrived at the estate in Japan, Yukio immediately declared that a cleanup was in order. Logan resisted, of course, but she insisted. You were too tired to argue and knew she was right. You hadn’t had a proper bath in weeks if not months. The little tub in the cabin did barely enough to make you feel freshened up, and the idea of finally being clean was too tempting to pass up.

She led you to your separate rooms, where hot baths and fresh clothes awaited. The water was blissfully warm, and as you soaked, you felt the tension slowly ebb away. You scrubbed your skin clean, washed your hair until it felt soft and light again, and when you finally stepped out of the bath, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. The fresh clothes Yukio provided were simple yet elegant, a far cry from the rough, dirty outfit you’d been wearing for days.

After dressing, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. For the first time in a long while, you felt... pretty. It was a strange sensation after everything that had happened, and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Logan already waiting for you when you saw him. Your breath caught in your throat. His long beard was nowhere to be seen, a uniquely styled facial hair left in it’s wake. His hair was trimmed as well. His usual gruff demeanor was still there, but he looked... different. Handsome, in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

He was staring at you too, a look of surprise flickering across his face before he quickly masked it. "You clean up nice," he said lowly.

"Thanks," you replied, trying to sound casual, though you were acutely aware of the way his eyes lingered on you.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, taking in the sight of each other. You had always thought Logan was attractive in a natural, untamed way, but seeing him like this, it made your heart stir in your chest.

Yukio interrupted your thoughts, her voice cutting through the silence. “Good. Now that you two don’t look like wild animals, we can get to work.”

----

Yukio led you and Logan through the estate’s winding paths, the sound of your footsteps muted by the soft ground. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the garden, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to admire the beauty of the place.

Finally, you reached a large, open room where an elderly man sat in a wheelchair, his frail form dwarfed by the spaciousness of the room. Yashida’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and labored, but there was a sense of peace about him, as if he had come to terms with his impending death.

“Logan,” Yukio said softly, her tone respectful as she gestured for him to approach.

Logan stepped forward, his usual confidence tempered by something more subdued. He stopped a few feet from Yashida, his hands clenched at his sides as he struggled to find the right words.

“Yashida,” he eventually said, addressing the man before him. “It’s been a long time.”

Yashida’s eyes slowly opened, and when they focused on Logan, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Logan,” he rasped, his voice weak but filled with warmth. “You came.”

“Yeah,” Logan replied, his tone softening. “I came.”

Yashida’s gaze shifted to you, and you felt a strange mix of emotions as his eyes, still sharp despite his age, studied you intently. “And who is this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

“I’m just a friend,” you said, offering him a small, respectful bow. “I’m here to support Logan.”

Yashida’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Thank you for coming,” he said, his tone sincere. “It means a great deal to me.”

Then, another figure entered the room, a young woman with delicate features and a quiet grace that immediately drew your attention. She moved with the fluidity of someone who was used to being in control, but there was a sadness in her eyes that mirrored Yashida’s.

“Mariko,” Yashida said, his voice softening as he spoke her name. “Come, meet Logan.”

Mariko stepped forward, her gaze flicking to Logan with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “Logan,” she said quietly, her voice as soft as the rustling leaves outside. “It’s an honour.”

Logan inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he looked away. “Likewise.”

There was an awkward silence as you stood there, feeling like an outsider in this reunion. You watched the way Mariko looked at Logan, her gaze filled with something you couldn’t quite place—respect, maybe, or perhaps a cautious admiration. Whatever it was, it made your chest tighten with an emotion you weren’t ready to examine.

“Please, sit,” Yashida said, gesturing to the cushions on the floor. “We have much to discuss.”

You sat down beside Logan, feeling the tension in the room build as Yashida began to speak, his words measured and deliberate. He spoke of his time with Logan, of the bond they had shared during the war, and of the gratitude he felt for the life Logan had given him. But there was something else in the way Yashida spoke—an underlying desperation that made you uneasy.

“I have a gift for you, Logan,” Yashida said, his eyes locking onto Logan’s with an intensity that belied his frail appearance. “A gift that will free you from your suffering.”

Logan stiffened beside you, his expression darkening. “I don’t need anything from you, Yashida,” he announced.

“But you do,” Yashida insisted, his tone growing more urgent. “You’ve lived long enough to see the world change, to see those you care about die. I can give you what you’ve always wanted—mortality.”

The room fell silent as Yashida’s words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing down on you like a physical force. You glanced at Logan, searching his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.

“I didn’t come here for this,” Logan said after a long pause. “I came because you asked.”

Yashida’s expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he nodded slowly. “Very well,” he said. “But the offer stands. Should you change your mind...”

Logan didn’t respond, his jaw clenched as he stared at the floor. You could feel the tension radiating off him, and it took everything in you not to reach out and touch his arm, to offer some kind of comfort.

----

The air was thick with the scent of incense and the soft murmur of prayers as you stood at Yashida’s funeral, surrounded by mourners dressed in black. The solemnity of the occasion hung heavy, but there was an undercurrent of tension that you couldn’t ignore. Logan was beside you, his expression unreadable, though you knew him well enough by now to sense the unease in his posture.

In that moment, your mind wandered to the days you’d spent in the Yukon, the solitude that had once been your only companion. You hadn’t ended up there by choice. No, you had been running—from a world that feared what it didn’t understand, from people who saw you as a threat. The fact that you were a mutant had always set you apart, but it was also the reason you had been hunted, feared, and ultimately driven into the wild. 

You still hadn’t told Logan about your powers, not out of a lack of trust—hiding them had simply become second nature to you. But as you stood at the funeral, watching the proceedings with a growing sense of dread, you realized that your secret was about to come crashing down around you.

It happened so quickly that you barely had time to react. One moment, the funeral was proceeding as expected, and the next, the mourners were scattering in panic as a group of Yakuza thugs stormed the ceremony, their eyes locked on Mariko, Yashida’s granddaughter.

“Mariko!” Logan’s voice was a deep growl as he pushed through the crowd, his adamantium claws shooting out. You sprang into action right behind him, your heart pounding as you watched the Yakuza close in on Mariko. You knew that even though he was fast, Logan wouldn’t make it in to her in time. 

Suddenly, the world seemed to slow down, and your instincts took over. Thrusting your hands out, you called for your powers and the air around you responded, swirling with a sudden, powerful gust that sent the Yakuza stumbling back. Logan's head whipped over to you, his eyes widening in shock, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.

Fire erupted from your fingertips, a controlled burst that seared the ground between Mariko and the attackers, creating a barrier they couldn’t cross. But the attackers didn’t yield, and they regrouped quickly, readying themselves for another assault.

Logan was at your side in an instant. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I—” you faltered, the words catching in your throat as you continued to fend off the enemy. The earth beneath you trembled as you called on your powers again, sending a wave of stone and dirt crashing into the Yakuza, knocking them off their feet.

“I didn’t know how,” you finally admitted tightly, from the strain of maintaining control over the elements. 

Logan’s expression was a mixture of anger and something else—something deeper. But he didn’t have time to respond before the Yakuza pressed their attack, forcing both of you to focus on the immediate threat.

Together, you and Logan fought them off, your powers weaving through the chaos as Logan’s claws tore through the ranks of the attackers. It was over in minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When the last of the Yakuza fell, you stood there, breathing hard, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Mariko was safe, but the damage was done. Logan turned to you, his gaze intense. “You didn’t trust me,” he said, the hurt clear in his voice.

“It wasn’t about trust,” you said quietly, lowering your hands as the last remnants of your power faded into the air. “I’ve spent my whole life hiding who I am, Logan. It’s not something I can just turn off.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “I get that,” he finally said, his voice softer now. “But you knew about me––my mutation. I thought—”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice breaking slightly. “It’s just… I didn’t want to bring attention to it. I wanted to leave it in the past.”

Logan’s expression softened, the anger fading as he listened to your words. “You don’t owe me an explanation,” he said after a moment, surprising you. “But I want you to know… I would’ve understood.”

You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. It was strange, how this man who had saved you, who had become your friend, could look at you with such understanding, after you had hid something so important from him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words heavy with the weight of everything you hadn’t said before.

He didn’t say much after, just turning and heading toward Mariko, going to check on her. 

----

In the days following the incident at Yashida’s funeral, something between you and Logan shifted. It was subtle at first—an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before, a hesitation in his eyes whenever he looked at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that things had changed, and not for the better.

Logan had started pulling away from you. At first, you thought it was because of Mariko, and his new mission—that he had simply found something else to focus on. But as the days went by, you realized that it was more than that. Logan wasn’t just distant—he was hurt. And it wouldn't take a genius to know why.

He had been wounded by your secret, by the fact that he thought you hadn’t trusted him enough to reveal your powers. You had tried to explain, to make him understand that it wasn’t about him, but the damage was done.

The distance between you pained you. You had grown to care for him deeply. It had started as friendship, a bond forged in Canada, but somewhere along the way, you knew your feelings had begun to change. You hadn’t meant to fall for him, but it happened all the same, creeping up on you like the first rays of dawn after a long, cold night.

But as you watched him pull away from you, and towards Mariko, those feelings felt like a mistake.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want Logan to be happy—far from it. You cared about him too much to wish anything but the best for him. Still, seeing the way he looked at her, the way he seemed drawn to her despite the mayhem surrounding them, made something inside you ache. You had thought that maybe, just maybe, there could be something more between you and Logan, but it was clear now that whatever you had shared was truly just a friendship. Nothing more.

And that realization hurt more than you cared to admit.

You tried to push those feelings aside, to focus on the task at hand. There was still so much to do, and Japan was far from safe. The Yakuza were remained a threat, and Yashida’s legacy was more tangled than you had ever imagined. But no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the helping, your mind kept drifting back to Logan and Mariko.

So, you did the only thing you could—you pulled away. You gave Logan and Mariko space, leaving them to each other whenever possible. It hurt to do it, to step back when all you wanted was to be by Logan’s side, like you’d for months, but you convinced yourself it was for the best. If this was what Logan wanted, if she was who he needed, then who were you to stand in the way?

Even as you distanced yourself, you continued to help them in whatever ways you could. You were still in Japan, still part of the mission Logan got roped into, but you became a shadow, always there but never too close. You helped Mariko when she needed it, fought alongside Logan when necessary, but you never lingered, never gave him a reason to think you wanted anything more.

----

When the trip was over, and the two of you returned back to Canada, things were different. The easy companionship you had shared was strained, the unspoken tension between you making every moment feel heavy with uncertainty. You weren’t sure where you stood with Logan anymore, and it was driving you mad.

He had been quiet since your return, keeping to himself, and you had done the same, unsure of how to bridge the growing distance between you. It hurt, more than you wanted to admit, but you weren’t sure what to do about it.

You had spent the day wandering the snowy landscape, trying to clear your head, but no amount of fresh air could chase away the doubts that had settled in your mind. By the time you returned to the cabin, the sun was beginning to set. You hesitated at the door, your hand hovering over the handle as you debated whether to go inside or keep walking.

Before you could decide, the door swung open, and Logan stood there, his expression unreadable. “You’ve been gone a while,” he said, his voice rough from disuse.

“Just needed some air,” you replied quietly as you stepped inside.

Logan closed the door behind you, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. Then, “We need to talk.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting with anxiety as you followed him to the small living area. You sat on the edge of the worn couch, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you waited for him to start.

Logan remained standing, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I’ve been thinking… about everything that happened in Japan.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “So have I.”

He looked up at you then, “I don’t know how to do this,” is all he could get out.

“I know."

“I’ve been thinking about why things got so messed up between us,” Logan continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “And I think… I think it’s because I was hurt that you didn’t tell me about your powers, that you’re a mutant too. I took it personally, and that was wrong.”

You shook your head, “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Logan. I just… I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Logan stepped closer, his hand resting on the back of the couch as he looked down at you. “You didn’t lose me,” he said quietly. “But I think I almost lost you because I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s why I pulled away. I didn’t want to get hurt, so I put up walls.”

“And Mariko? I mean, it's not like you need to justify anything to me, but--fuck--I...” You started, letting your words drift off. You didn't know where you were going with this, but Logan would have to be a real idiot to not catch on.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and it scared you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.

“When we were in Japan… I was hurt. Not just by everything that was happening, but by what I thought was going on between us. I felt like you didn’t trust me, like you were keeping me at arm’s length, and I didn’t know how to handle that. And then there was Mariko… she was there, and I turned to her because… I don’t know, I guess I was looking for something to distract me from what I was feeling.”

You stayed silent, letting him speak.

“But it wasn’t what you think,” he affirmed. “It wasn’t about feelings, or love, or anything like that. Mariko was just… there. I was in a bad place, and she was someone who didn’t expect anything from me, who didn’t know me the way you do. We got physical, but it wasn’t real."

You blinked, trying to make sense of his words. “So, it didn’t mean anything?”

Logan shook his head. “Not the way you’re thinking. I won’t lie to you—it happened, and I’m sorry for that. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care about you,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “It was because I did, and I didn’t know how to deal with my own emotions. I made a mistake, and it hurt you, and I hate that.”

You could see the regret in his eyes, the way he was struggling to find the right words. “I thought you wanted to be with her,” you admitted, “That I was just… in the way.”

He swallowed, “You were never in the way. I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that.”

You looked up at him. “Where does that leave us then, Logan? Should I… should I stay here? With you?”

Logan’s eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your face in his hand. “I want you to stay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But only if that’s what you want too.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as a wave of relief washed over you. “I want to stay,” you whispered back, your heart pounding in your chest. “I need to know that we’re on the same page though, that this is more than just… friendship.”

His thumb brushed against your cheek. “It is,” he confirmed, “I care about you, more than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I want to figure this out, whatever it is between us.”

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a small, trembling smile. “I want that too.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He leaned down, nuzzling his nose with yours as he spoke, an action that nearly had your heart bursting in your chest. “Then let’s do this. No more hiding, no more running. Just us.”

“Just us,” you echoed, happy.

------

[cardansriddle]

Sugar - (tom riddle x fem!muggle!reader)

Summary: Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps the fates were mocking him. He had not meant to venture into the little coffee shop and he had most definitely not meant to return. But he kept coming back and the waitress kept putting sugar packets near his coffee every damn time.

Warnings: Tom gets possessive halfway through so it's pretty tame for him. not proofread. oh also self-indulgent crime & punishment debate (got a lil carried away).

A/N: 5.5k words but it's kinda mehh. to the person who requested this, i hope you enjoy it at least a little <3

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom felt as if he was a solitary figure in a world hushed by the winter's harsh embrace. With each step he took away from the desolate building of grey against the pristine canvas of winter, he felt lighter. He did not cast a look back towards the orphanage looming behind him, instead focused on the sound of the snow crunching beneath his feet as they led him further into the dark street cloaked in a thick layer of snow.

The wizard knew if he spent another moment in that cursed place he would have lashed out and killed someone, so he had hastily thrown his coat and emerald scarf around himself before slamming the door shut behind him. 

Two more years. He thought to himself. Then he would be out and would never be obligated to return again. Perhaps he would even burn the place to the ground if his plans worked out in his favour. 

The air was crisp, and his breath materialized in front of him with each exhale. His eyes quickly scanned the narrow empty alley for a suitable quiet place where he could pass his time. There was nothing interesting, except for the tiny bookstore nestled in the corner of the street that emitted a warm, golden light through its window. Tom quickly decided it would do, and he strode towards the place with purpose. A small bell chimed as he entered the place, which he quickly realised was a bookstore with a cosy coffee shop tucked inside. 

He inhaled the pleasant aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the scent of weathered books. Before he could lose himself entirely in the intoxicating symphony of scents, a sudden, loud thud echoed from behind the counter, jolting him from his reverie.

"Blimey!" someone cursed, their voice slicing through the tranquillity. Tom found himself rooted to the spot, curiosity piqued, as a figure suddenly emerged from underneath the counter.

It was a girl. Unabashedly, his eyes traced the lines of her features, noting the delicate curve of her jaw and the cascade of hair that framed her face. He assumed she was around his age if not younger and he stared at the girl as she rubbed her head, wincing when she hit a particularly soft spot before she realised that she was not alone in the shop. She froze like a deer caught in the headlights and he watched as her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. 

Tom, still an observer, saw more than just the blush; he discerned the subtleties of her response, the way her eyes momentarily widened before seeking refuge elsewhere, fingers fidgeting with the edges of her knitted cardigan.

She attempted to compose herself and met his eyes. "Oh! Sorry, sir. How may I assist you?" She asked cheerfully, resisting the urge to duck her head down to avoid his intense stare.

He crossed the small distance to the counter. "I'd like a coffee. Black."

"No sugar?" she inquired, to which Tom raised a single brow. Her blush deepened as she quickly averted her eyes from his face.

"Right, of course. You may take a seat while I prepare this for you." With a nod, she hurried to fulfil his request, leaving Tom alone with the lingering scent of coffee and old books that were now intertwined with a pleasant smell of vanilla and sweet— 

It was her perfume, he realised with a start.

He hastily removed his coat and scarf before plopping down on the nearest armchair. His gaze remained fixed on the girl, absorbed in the rhythm of her practised motions as she prepared his drink, her movements seemingly both effortless and comforting. There was an almost lazy grace to her actions and he continued to watch as she sang under her breath so softly if he had not been staring so intensely, he would not have picked up on it. 

He wondered how he had never noticed this place before. He had been passing through this little street for as long as he could remember but for some reason, he had only stumbled upon it today. His sharp eyes darted around, instinctively searching for traces of magic, half-expecting the discovery of a hidden passage to the wizarding world but he quickly realised the place was undeniably, disappointingly muggle. 

Muggle.

He tore his gaze away from the girl at the mental reminder of what she was. He fished out a book from his bag and opened it to occupy his mind. 

The subtle shuffle of her approaching steps drew his attention back to the present, and he met her gaze as she placed the steaming cup of coffee before him. A sugar packet sat innocently beside it. His eyes lingered on the packet for a moment before lifting coldly to meet hers.

She, however, was undeterred by the intensity of his glare. “In case you change your mind.” She smiled at him softly before turning on her heel and walking back.

His gaze lingered on her retreating figure, and then, almost involuntarily, it dropped to the innocuous sugar packet.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom did not know why he had returned. Truthfully, he had not even noticed his feet had led him here until he was in front of the familiar wooden door that led into the coffee shop. Perhaps he had thought more than he should’ve about the disgustingly soft smile of that girl for the last five months. She was an insolent muggle, yet here he was, walking into the place as if he had never left. 

The seasons had blurred since he had last been here. Winter had long surrendered to the warmth of summer. He had to spend at least a month in the orphanage, and he was hoping Malfoy would invite him over for the rest of the summer. 

The place was just as he remembered it. The only difference was the lack of Christmas decorations. He faltered only slightly when he took notice of the girl behind the counter, already staring at him. She had not changed much. Her face was the same, less pale perhaps, but the same, nonetheless. The oversized knitted sweater that once enveloped her had been replaced by a little white sundress, and his gaze involuntarily lingered on the exposed smooth skin.

“Welcome back!” She greeted him cheerfully, and he was not surprised she remembered him. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee,” he replied curtly

She nodded as if she was expecting it. "Coming right up." Gently shutting her book, she gracefully moved towards the coffee machine. Tom's eyes couldn't help but trail to the volume she had been reading, and to his pleasant surprise, it was Dostoyevsky. He had not pegged her as someone who would enjoy Russian literature, with its weighty and morally morbid themes. In his mind, she seemed more likely to be a Jane Austen enthusiast, with her intricately written romances and flowery prose.

“It’s 'Crime and Punishment'." He suddenly heard her soft voice declare, and he looked away from the book to give his attention to the girl. Then feeling as if she had said something silly, she blushed and looked away quickly. "Though I'm sure you figured that. I just wondered why you look so surprised." 

He replied before he could tell himself not to. "I did not imagine you as someone who would enjoy this." 

Emboldened at his words, she turned to face him, a hand casually resting on her hip as she sported a cheeky smile. "Am I to presume you imagine me often?"

His sharp inhale was audible as he absorbed the unexpected shift in her demeanour. He had not expected this shy, timid girl to tease him so boldly. She was a little vixen.

But he did not give her the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. A lazy raise of his brow was the extent of his acknowledgement before his gaze wandered towards the rows of bookshelves, feigning indifference. "Do you have another copy? Perhaps I shall like to reread this evening."

She frowned, walking over towards the table he had occupied last time to set his coffee down. He grimly took notice of the sugar packet placed near it. "I'm afraid not. But you can have mine." 

"No, that is quite alri—" He began to decline but she had already crossed the small distance between them and was holding out the thick book. He hesitated for a moment before his fingers closed around the object, careful to avoid touching hers. 

The girl smiled and walked away before he could even say thanks. Not like he was going to. 

Settling back into the soft armchair, he opened the book only to freeze at the sight of a name scribbled on the front page and he knew it belonged to her. The wizard rolled the name around in his mind and determined that it suited her. He stared at her name for a minute longer before turning the page and delving into the content of the book. 

He had been so immersed in the story that he had not noticed how the time had passed. The gradual hush of the coffee shop's ambient sounds finally penetrated his concentration, and he distinctly heard the girl approaching him. 

"I'm sorry to disturb you but we're closing in five minutes." She looked at the book in his hands. "You may return it once you're done." 

He hummed and looked down at where he had stopped. 

"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

He wondered if the universe was trying to tell him something. 

Tom found himself caught in the silent narrative of this stranger's presence.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He returned the next day.

She looked up to see him enter, the sleeves of his button-up shirt rolled up. 

Tom placed the book on the counter. 

"You finished it in one day?"

He shrugged. "I'm a fast reader." 

She gave him a small smile, turning to make his black coffee before he could ask for it. "Every time I reread it it takes me a few days." She paused for a moment, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "The usual?"

He nodded. "The usual." He debated whether or not to voice his next question, and decided one conversation with the girl would not hurt.

"Why do you read it so often?"

"Each time I find new details that make Raskolnikov's character more complex. Each time I discover these small little things I missed the last time I read it becomes so much better. Plus I enjoy his moral dilemma."

He hummed, his curiosity piqued. He took his usual seat and watched as she brought his coffee and set it down in front of him. "Enlighten me." He gestured towards the seat in front of him. She hesitated only for a second before taking a seat. 

"Raskolnikov is obviously a complex character. His actions are driven by a desire for power and superiority, a belief that he is exempt from conventional morality. However, one could argue that his internal struggles and eventual remorse suggest a more nuanced exploration of morality." 

Tom furrowed his brows. "I see him as a product of his environment, a desperate man driven to extremes by the harsh circumstances he faced. His morality shifts to the other side of the spectrum." 

She cocked her head to the side, and he could see her getting slightly frustrated. "But morality is not just a spectrum; it's a complex interplay of values, societal norms, and personal convictions. Raskolnikov's guilt stems from the clash between his actions and the intrinsic moral compass within him. It's the consequence of recognizing the weight of one's choices."

He scoffed before he could stop himself. "Morality is subjective. What is right for one may not be right for another. Raskolnikov was weak and he was an idiot. Guilt is a useless emotion and it is for the weak."

Her expression remained unwavering. "But perhaps it's that recognition of guilt that separates the morally discerning from those who lack empathy. The fact that you can't comprehend his guilt doesn't make it foolish. It makes it human."

Tom's eyes narrowed a glint of impatience in his gaze. "Human or not, guilt is a hindrance. It's a sentiment for those too feeble to rise above their actions. If I were to make a difficult choice, I would do it without hesitation, without remorse." 

He only realised the slip of his tongue after the words left his mouth. He stilled, gauging her reaction yet her response was measured but firm. "Raskolnikov's guilt is a testament to his humanity, his ability to grapple with the consequences of his choices. It's what sets him apart from those who operate without remorse." 

"But—"

"So what you're saying is you would kill and feel no remorse?" She cut him off.

Yes.

"You do not understand." He did not intend his tone to be so harsh, yet the words left his mouth coldly. She visibly withdrew and nodded stiffly. "Right. Enjoy your coffee."

He opened his mouth to say something but realised for the first time in his life he did not know what to say. 

He was left staring at the cursed sugar packet she had left near his coffee again.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He did not return the next day. Nor the day after. Or after.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Two weeks passed with no sign of him.

And then she saw him step into the coffee shop. He walked in with determination. He walked up to the counter, meeting her gaze with an intensity that mirrored the unspoken tension between them. "I'd like a black coffee," he said, his tone even, though a hint of something lingered beneath the surface. 

She nodded, her expression composed but guarded. As she prepared the coffee, the air seemed charged with unspoken words. Her usual cheerful smile was notably absent. The absence struck him, and he realised he had enjoyed her smiles.

When she placed the coffee in front of him, there was a palpable pause. He glanced at the sugar packet, a subtle acknowledgement of the lingering disagreement. Without a word, he took it, his eyes meeting hers briefly before he poured the sugar into his coffee. 

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

He returned the next day. And the day after that. And for the rest of summer.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

The next time he stepped into the familiar place, winter had covered the city with a snowy blanket once again. It had been a year since he first discovered this little place. And he had not seen his little waiter since he left for Hogwarts in September. 

When he walked in, her eyes lit up visibly. "Hi!" She waved at him with a bright grin. 

"Hello." He greeted as he unwrapped his scarf and settled in his usual seat. In a matter of minutes, she was bringing him his usual order. She was back to wearing her warm knitted sweaters. "How did you enjoy the book?"

"Oscar Wilde never disappoints," he said. She hummed in agreement, pleased at his words. He watched as her hands dropped to fidget with the bottom of her sweater. "You wish to ask me something." He stated. "Ask."

"Do you study in a boarding school?"

Tom hesitated only for a moment before replying. "Yes."

"Oh. Well, that explains the months of not showing up."

"Were you expecting me?" He teased her with an amused smirk, taking delight in the way her cheeks reddened. 

"I was just wondering that is all," she admitted, a hint of curiosity peeking through. Tom observed her, noting the return of the timid, shy girl from their first encounter. It amused him how a few teasing remarks could momentarily whisk away her fiery boldness. He couldn't help but wonder what it would take to awaken it once again.

"And do you wonder about me often, little vixen?" he added, a playful glint in his eyes.

She blushed harder at the nickname but then as if a thought had struck her, she straightened and Tom watched as she visibly mustered up her courage. "I actually was wondering your name."

He bristled, but she must have not noticed because she continued. "I suppose I have not given you mine either." She mused out loud and announced her name to him. "But I thought it bizarre that considering all the time we've talked we never got around to that. Friends who do not each other's names." The girl laughed at the last notion and only then she realised that Tom had remained unnervingly quiet throughout the exchange. She raised her eyes from the frayed edges of her sweater, and the sight almost made her take a step back. His eyes had darkened, and she could have sworn she saw them flash red. There was no warmth, no familiarity in his gaze. 

"Are you alright?"

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, an ominous tension permeating the air as he advanced towards her with every word. "We are not friends. You dare to think I would be friends with the likes of you?" His words were sharper than the keenest of blades, cutting into her with merciless precision. "Foolish, little girl," He spat out before grabbing his things and storming out of the place. As the door closed behind him, the little coffee shop seemed to exhale, the echoes of his harsh words lingering in the hushed aftermath.

She stood frozen in her place, helpless against the storm of emotions and the tears that began to veil her vision. 

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

Tom fumed for months after their last encounter. How dare the ignorant muggle insinuate that they were friends? He scarcely considered his Knights of Walpurgis as his friends, and she thought she would just appoint herself the title? Who did she think she was?

"Mate, you alright? You've been unresponsive for a while." Malfoy nudged him slightly, attempting to draw his attention back to the present.

Tom made a noise of acknowledgement before mentally shaking the image of his little waiter— no, not his, he berated himself— from his mind. 

But no matter how he tried, he could not. He could not just banish her from his thoughts. He knew a part of him, a rather embarrassingly large part of him enjoyed her company, her passion, her conversations— just her. 

And there, tucked away in the recesses of his trunk, lay her damned book— a taunting reminder of her. The temptation to burn it, to obliterate any remnants of her from his life, danced on the edge of his thoughts. He had shoved away, out of sight if only just to save himself the fury, the anger, (the longing).

He wondered if she was going through the same turmoil as him. He hoped she was. She had no right to make him feel this way and get away with it unscathed. 

But she was too enticing to give up. He did not know what it was about her. She was a muggle, an ordinary, plain girl working at a forgotten little cafe. Sure, she liked books, but so did a lot of other people. Yes, she was pretty, but so were a lot of other girls. But none could even come close to stirring his emotions as she did.

Perhaps it was the ease with which she conversed with him. Or the entirely too cheery smiles. Or her endearing knitted sweaters— though he secretly favoured the sundresses.

He, of course, knew what it was. He had tried to deny the idea to himself, but there was no escaping it. Tom had never been able to be unequivocally authentic with another individual before. From his early childhood, he refused to allow anyone close to him. He never lowered his walls and rejected anything that would yield a genuine connection. It was refreshing with her. He had no cause to uphold a curated facade.

Had she not been a muggle, he would entertain the thought of her bewitching him. He would have been convinced the girl put some spell on him or slipped a potion into his drink. 

It was maddening. 

She was maddening.

He sighed upon realising that he had spiralled again thinking of her. He needed to return the book, and maybe that would ease his mind. Perhaps once he was rid of her possession, she would not haunt him anymore. (Though he knew he was only trying to reassure himself with the last thought.)

As summer loomed around the corner, it felt both too distant and too imminent, mirroring the paradox of his tangled emotions.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

The sound of her laugh rang out before he could even close the door behind him. His head snapped up so fast it was a wonder he did not get whiplash. But there she was, his little waiter, chuckling delightfully as some boy spoke lowly from behind the counter. Chuckles escaped her lips, and she bit down on her lip in a futile attempt to stifle the laughter, her hands deftly at work preparing a drink. Despite her efforts, laughter bubbled forth once more, forcing her to set the cup down to avoid any potential spills.

An immediate surge of anger coursed through him. Who was this boy? What business did have with her? What right did he have to elicit such genuine laughter from her? (Most importantly, how dare she replace him?)

Tom swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to gather himself into some semblance of a composed, unaffected man that he most definitely was not at that moment. With a loud, purposeful cough, he sought to catch her attention.

She spun around, the practised smile reserved for customers settling onto her face as she readied herself to serve him. However, the smile swiftly vanished the moment her doe-like eyes locked onto him. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as she stared at him, wide eyes roving over his face as if to confirm that he was really standing there, in front of her, and was not a figment of her imagination. 

Because despite their last encounter, despite the anger, and the hurt she had felt, she kept hoping he would return. She kept imagining him standing there, with his ridiculously fancy scarf as he spewed out an apology. She had delved so deep into her fantasies involving him that now that he was actually there, she did not what to do or to say. Her tongue was tied, and her brain was fogged. What was she supposed to say?

It seemed he decided to grant her mercy and be the first to break the tense silence.

“Hello.” 

“Hi.”

He shuffled closer, though his steps were unsure, unlike his usual confident strides that she was used to seeing. “I wished to return your book.” He declared yet made no move to reach into his bag for the said book. He allowed his eyes to drink in the sight of her, her eyes that always seemed to glisten, her hands that were always fidgeting, her little sundress that he was afraid would drive him to insanity, (and her lips that he wished he could press against his own just so he could find out what they felt like, tasted like.) He shoved the last one into a drawer in his mind and locked it away. He could not fantasise about her. She was a muggle. He could not stoop so low as to hold affections for a muggle girl.

“Did you enjoy it?” The girl asked tentatively as if afraid one wrong word would set him off, have him spitting more harsh words that would dig deep into her skin and remain there. 

“As always.” He replied. Because every book she gave him held another meaning. She was a clever girl, choosing the ones that she knew would have him coming back with a strong debate prepared in his mind. They always seemed to stand on opposite sides of every argument that the books posed, ensuring that their discussion would get heated, exciting, and thrilling. 

While Tom vehemently disagreed with her views, he found pleasure in the way her mind worked. He admired her quick-wittedness, her ability to counter every argument he posed. No one else had engaged him in such stimulating conversations. She was a breath of fresh air, a captivating force he wanted to inhale and never release. He yearned to suffocate in the essence of her being, to be consumed and to consume in return. He wanted to own her— that irrational desire to keep her for himself was always there in the deeper parts of his mind that he was scared to venture into.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She responded but he could detect the subtle undercurrent of uncertainty in her voice.

He hesitated. “May I have one black coffee?” He was extending an olive branch, and while it was not an outright apology, coming from Tom, it was a whole declaration. 

“It’s five minutes until closing time.” 

She would not be swayed so easily then. 

Fine. Tom thought. He would make her come to her senses. 

The boy who he had forgotten was still there suddenly came to stand next to him. Tom eyed him with disdain, his features curling into an unimpressed sneer, raising a lazy brow.

“I’ll help her close up, mate. You can leave now.” 

“Daniel, that is not necessary.” She muttered, glancing between the two men nervously. Daniel? Tom clenched his jaw, enraged. In his absence, it seemed she had gotten on first-name basis with a boy. His mouth soured with the taste of betrayal at her blatant ignorance. How could she discard him so easily? Had she not suffered all these months at the mere thought of him? Had he been alone in his suffering?

“No,” Tom stated flatly. “You will leave.” He told the boy then turned to face his waiter. “We will talk.” 

“Tom, I do not think—”

He cut her off with a hiss. “It was not a request.”

Daniel seemed wholly displeased. He opened his mouth to argue, but his girl beat him to it. “It’s okay, Daniel. I will see you some other time.”

“Whatever he has to tell you, surely he can say in front of me.”

She shook her head gently, trying to dissuade him. “It’s a matter between him and I. I would rather talk privately.” 

Tom looked smug as he faced Daniel again, struggling to contain his smirk. He could see the indignation clear on the boy’s face as his eyes flickered dubiously between her and Tom. He knew the wizard was no ordinary acquaintance of her, he could feel the palpable tension in the air like a wolf. 

Tom, of course, wished to push his buttons further, just to have the last word. “You heard her. Leave.” 

Daniel scoffed. “I will see you tomorrow then.” He muttered and with one last long look, he squared his shoulders and left the café with as much dignity as his wounded pride could muster. 

As the door shut with a final thud, they were left in pregnant silence, both unsure of the dynamics at play between them. The air in the café hung heavy with unspoken tension as if the silence itself had taken on a weight, pressing down on them both. The ticking of the clock on the wall seemed louder than usual, each second echoing in the quiet space.

She was the first to cave. "Well? You wished to talk." Gesturing towards him with a hand expectantly. "Talk." 

Tom inhaled sharply, and for the first time in his life, he did not quite know what to say. How to proceed. 

"Who is he?" The question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. 

She raised a brow. "Seriously? After how you walked out of here last time I would think your choice of words would be different."

"Different? I hardly think the question was unfair."

She huffed impatiently, discarding her apron as she turned from him to put everything away for the night. "Of course. How foolish of me to assume that you have no business inquiring about my life when we are not even friends." She chuckled bitterly. "You made the notion quite appalling if memory serves me right. You wish to know who is Daniel? For all you know, he could be my fiancee. Would it matter? No. Because you and I are hardly acquaintances." 

An unfamiliar feeling began coiling in the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly felt sick. She briefly turned to fix him with a pointed glare and froze at the look on his face. The dancing flames of the candles seemed to mirror the flickering emotions in Tom's eyes—flames of irritation, discontent, and an unexpected pang of jealousy.

Tom could scarcely believe his fate. How was it that he— the most powerful wizard of his generation— had succumbed to the pathetic disease of— what was it? Desire? Lust? Infatuation? Such mundane urges were beneath him, he had no wish to pursue anyone or anything that was not remotely related to his quest for power. Yet there she was. In her infuriating fucking dress and those innocent eyes. Did she even know what sort of turmoil she had caused him?

All of a sudden he felt exhausted, defeated. His shoulders sunk visibly as he ran a hand through his hair. He would use a hundred of her sugar packets in his coffee if it meant she would just grace him with her bubbly smile again and just— just what? Leave him be? He did not want that. Treat him as if nothing had happened? Maybe. Release him from whatever enchantment she put him under? Yes.

"What do you want from me?" He asked at last, frustration clear in his voice.

She regarded him with disbelief as she rounded the counter to stand directly in front of him. "What do I want from you?" She repeated incredulously. "I want an apology! I want an explanation! I want—" she sighed, cutting herself off before she could finish the thought. "You cannot just show up here demanding things and ordering people around after how you treated me last time. If you wish to continue this conversation, you will apologise to me."

"You want me to say sorry?" He took a step towards her.

"Yes!"

"Fuck your apology." 

Before she could register what was happening, Tom closed the minute distance between them and caved into his desire. He grabbed her face, fingers threading through her hair, and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was not gentle; it was a collision of pent-up tension and bottled-up desires.

Tom's lips moved fervently against hers, pouring his frustration into the act. It was a silent declaration that transcended the boundaries of his complicated inner turmoil. Tom knew that. But he could not pull away from her— not after having tasted how her lips feel like. 

Her hands, which had hovered hesitantly in the space between them, found their way to his shoulders, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, pulling him closer. 

She felt—tasted like God's favourite nectar, sweet and addictive and he knew he would never get enough of it. She might not have been a witch, but he was bewitched by her. 

As they broke apart, breathless, the air between them hung heavy with the residue of their shared kiss. He dared not to ease his hold on her, only stared at her with darkened eyes, taking delight in the way her lips were bruised, and puffy, all because of him. But it was not enough. He needed to mark her for all to see. 

He dove into the tender skin of her throat like a man starved, teeth sinking into her flesh with no warning, and a sick sort of satisfaction washed over him at the muffled moan that escaped her mouth. He sucked on the skin until he was sure there would be a purple mark blooming on the spot before running his tongue over the flesh to soothe the sting. He did not waste any second before moving to mark another spot.

"I do not even know your name." She managed to choke out in between her whimpers, hands moving of their own accord to tangle in his hair, and a particular tug had him growling deep in his throat. 

"Tom." He whispered, pulling away from her neck only to return his lips to hers. "Say it. Say my name." He murmured in between the kisses, pushing her back until her back was pressed against the counter. He easily picked her up to place her on the surface, his fingers trailing along her thighs to her knees to nudge them apart so he could stand in between them. 

"Tom." She breathed out in a daze, and he smirked in delight. 

She was his. He had already branded her, and he would do much more to ensure she knew it was him she belonged to. 

He leaned to brush his lips against the shell of her ear. "I hope you know there is no going back from this. From me." He whispered, fingers slipping under the strap of her dress and dragging it down her shoulder slowly. "You are my dirty little secret now. Mine."

She shuddered under the weight of his words but he was already snaking his hand around her throat as his lips found home on her own once again.

No going back.

⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ 

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[lazycats-stuff]

Hi, this is my first time asking here I really love your work and also the whole reason me going into the DC fandom really... Anyway, back to my request can you do like a fluffy interaction with the batfamily when child (male or gn) reader told them that they had a "boyfriend" at school.

Not entirely sure if this is really you're cup of tea and if not you can ignore it.

:D

Oh this is my cup of tea, don't worry. And I got you into DC fandom? I hope you like the fandom so far.

Summary: (Y/N) is slowly growing up. Bruce and the others can't handle it.

Warnings: fluff, Bruce and everyone is emotional, just pure fluff everyone, Titus makes an appearance

The family has been going through a rather tough time recently. (Y/N) has started going to kindergarten and they couldn't see him for almost the entire day. Bruce knew it was important that (Y/N) starts socializing with children his age.

Bruce knew that is was important for (Y/N) to do it and he needs to get over all the child sicknesses. Such as chicken pox and some others. It would build his immunity system and make him stronger. And it was difficult the first day.

Everyone was emotional that first day. All of them barley kept it together as they walked (Y/N) to the kindergarten, more so to the place where he would be spending time until he needs to go to elementary school.

(Y/N) was nervous at first, but Bruce assured him how they would be back to get him back. The brothers all said goodbye and nearly broke down when (Y/N) left and everyone, including Alfred broke down in the car.

" He is growing up so quickly. " Jason said as he was wiping his eyes, trying not to cry fully.

" I know. " Dick said, not even keeping his cool anymore. Bruce and Damian didn't cry, but they were definitely sad about the fact that they couldn't see their brother anyone. Tim was just quiet as he sniffed quietly and Alfred simply looked ahead, outright refusing to cry.

Everyone went on with their days and once they were done with work or school, they would pick up (Y/N). (Y/N) was happy to his family once more and he just wanted a hug from his dad.

And he wanted to be carried by his dad. It was their tradition after all. Soon, Bruce had to update the list of people who could pick him up and included everyone in the family, besides Damian. The kindergarten policy made it clear that you needed to present ID every time you want to pick him up.

Bruce had to admit, he was impressed with the sheer security of the kindergarten and the way that they made sure that nobody unauthorized or somebody who had more sinister motives could get in. Thankfully.

(Y/N) has been going for a few months and he liked it very much. He has made a few friends and Bruce couldn't be happier. (Y/N)'s brother's were happy too. (Y/N) was happy, liked going there and had fun.

What more could they ask for? Nothing more.

As long as their brother is happy, so are they.

It was all going to be fine.

Well, that fine turned into pure confusion when (Y/N) was home. It was a Saturday. (Y/N) and the family was having a family night and (Y/N) was watching a movie in his father's lap, enjoying the contact from his father. Bruce covered his son in a blanket, making sure it was warm. It has started snowing a few hours ago and it was perfect.

More importantly, it was peaceful.

Until (Y/N) started to speak.

It was all fine.

" I forgot to tell you something! " (Y/N) declared as he sat up upright. Bruce glanced at (Y/N) and hummed at him, showing him that he had his attention.

" I have a boyfriend! "

Those four words made Bruce's head spin and he swears he hears that he has heard something crash in the kitchen. Jason spat out his water, coughing the rest of it out. Dick wept and Damian froze. Tim blinked a few times.

What the hell?!

" I'm sorry, what do you mean by that? " Bruce asked as he got some of his composure back. (Y/N) smiled widely and Bruce had to make sure he didn't fall down.

" I have a boyfriend! We hold hands and do everything together! " (Y/N) said loudly and Dick wept louder. Jason took a deep breath and Damian blinked a few times. Tim just drank his coffee. Nope. He is too pumped with caffeine to even think about it.

" What's wrong with Dick? " (Y/N) asked, looking at his brother who was weeping. Jason gave Dick a hug and Dick was mumbling the words so quickly and grow up. In not really particular order actually.

" Nothing (Y/N), you know how he gets emotional. " Bruce explained and (Y/N) let out a little huh. Bruce wanted to cry really, but he couldn't. His son was growing up too soon, but growing up is normal.

It's going to happen eventually.

Sooner rather than later.

" Come here. " Dick said as he wiped his eyes. He stood up and took (Y/N) into his arms, hugging him. His brother can't grow up. No. It's completely wrong and not- No.

(Y/N) can't grow up. No.

(Y/N) was confused as to why Dick would cry. Why? Is he sad? Why would be sad?

" Why are you said Dick? " (Y/N) asked and Dick finally found it in himself to chuckle. He gave (Y/N) a kiss on the cheek.

" I'm not sad baby bird. "

" Then why are you crying? When you are sad, you cry. " (Y/N) stated and Dick shook his head fondly.

" Sometimes, when you are so happy, you are so overwhelmed with happiness that you just start crying. " Dick explained and (Y/N) let out a little oh, leaning his head on Dick's shoulder.

Dick sighed as he sat down on the couch and Alfred finally made his way into the the living room.

" Master Bruce, did I hear correctly? Master (Y/N) has a boyfriend? " Alfred asked, clearly not wanting to believe it. His youngest grandson has a boyfriend?

" Yes, (Y/N) has a boyfriend. " Bruce confirmed and Alfred sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of his nose. His grandson will send him to his grave. Early grave, mind you.

Jason sighed as he wanted Dick to hand (Y/N) over to him. His brother can't have a boyfriend now. He is a baby in his eyes and he can't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend for that matter until he is about 30.

That is a reasonable age to have a boyfriend. Right?

" Should I open up the scotch? " Alfred asked and Bruce smiled at the suggestion.

" Later Alfred. "

" As you wish master Bruce. "

" Dad? " (Y/N) asked from Jason's arms and Bruce felt something warm in his heart.

" Yes? "

" Can we go out to play in the snow? Pretty please. " (Y/N) asked and Bruce nodded in agreement.

" Of course we can. But you need to make sure that you are warm. You can't get a cold can you? " Bruce said as he picked (Y/N) up from Jason and (Y/N) let out a little hurray.

" He is too pure for this world. " Damian said once (Y/N) and Bruce left the room to bundle up. and there was something that everyone could agree on. Even Jason and Damian could agree on that phrase.

Titus wagged his tail as he whined for Damian to open the door to the garden. Damian did so and Titus started playing in the snow. It was weird to see such a black mass in the white snow.

Titus almost looked like a demon and then that image was gone when (Y/N) ran over to Titus. Titus was very happy, tail wagging like mad, but still remained calm and gentle with his little brother. Bruce watched as (Y/N) ran around, making angels and throwing snowballs at Bruce.

Titus would also run for snowballs that the two would make, considering that they couldn't find his tennis balls to throw. He was confused at the way the would disappear, but still came back for more.

" Maybe we have overreacted. " Dick said and everyone agreed in a certain way. (Y/N) is a child and he probably doesn't know the meaning of the word. But they know that sooner or later they will have an actual boyfriend on their hands.

Hopefully that will never happen. Hopefully.

[likesomeoneinlovee]

𝐀 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 | 𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

[ Quick !Colter Arthur fic because I restarted my game and I’m on chapter 1 again ;) ] Summary: You and Arthur had just got back from a hunting trip in the harsh weather and decided there might just be a better way to warm up than a fire. Warnings: NSFW, Quickie, PIV sex, aggressive sex (?), no proof read, female reader.

— Damn the cold, damn this new camp. Colter felt like hell on earth if hell had froze over, even in the run-down houses still left in the old mining camp the cold air was blistering. You and Arthur stood just outside one of the house’s log frame with your backs against it. The two of you kept your cigarettes between your lips, puffing on them as you smoked together. You and Arthur had been hunting for some deer for Pearson so no one would be left hungry as well as cold, those two didn’t mix well.

Your foot tapped against the snow as you took the cigarette between your fingers. “You’d think it’s the dead of winter when it’s meant to be spring.” You spoke so the gusts of wind drove by the blizzard wouldn’t be the only sound against the silence.  

“That’s what we get for goin’ up the mountains. Damnit.” He complained, rightfully so. After Blackwater it was the gang’s only choice I suppose, and finding a place not already swarming with people who we’d have to kill just for a place to live, now that was a damn near blessing. If you could even believe in those anymore. Your thoughts were quickly cut off by his words.

“I’d do anything for some goddamn warmth.” 

Oh, now he’d do anything. You’d quickly push the idea out of your head before it could fully form, he was your friend anyway, definitely not your lover.

But then again what’s so wrong with a quick fuck to get warmed up? 

Dutch and Hosea were currently inside the cabin you two were leaned against starting a fire. Though it seemed like a simple quick task that could be done quickly by them, your body ached for warmth, you wouldn’t dare to wait that long. Waiting felt like an absurdity to you and you were beginning to realize why, maybe your body didn’t ache for the comfortable warmth of a fire, maybe it was just dying to get it’s hands on Arthur—

He inhaled his cigarette one last time, savoring the tase of burning tobacco before flicking it into the snow onto the ground. His muscles tense from the cold. He could see your eyes burning into the side of his head, tracing his jawline, he huffed before turning to face you. “You ain’t waitin’ for that fire either, are ya?” 

He read you like an open book, or maybe that wasn’t it. He could’ve been thinking the same as you this entire time. 

That was the truth of it. 

“No, I ain’t, Morgan.” You let the words slip out, of course just thinking about the bulk of his muscles against you could warm you up all in itself. The heavy breaths coming from his parted lips told you enough. He pushed himself from the wall to stand in-front of you, his large hands now on your shoulders, guiding you so your back could press tighter against the cabin, leaving no room between. It was too easy to go so unspoken, as if you two had been waiting for any excuse to do this that it only took few words to convince each other. Guess now that turned into a fact. “You’re gonna let me touch you?” 

“Am I-“ Your words caught your throat before you could repeat his sentence, you couldn’t act like how you felt before you yelp a quick and excited ‘Yes!’ at his whisper. “For a minute.” Your voice a tad muffled by the cigarette hanging from your plump lips, tinted red from the cold, along with your cheeks. His hands slipped to your forearms, pressing himself against you. He threw his hat off into the snow, frustrated it was getting in the way as he tried to press your foreheads together, discarding just like his cigarette. The tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Christ you’re warm.” 

He’d move one of his hands to take the cigarette from your lips before it could burn his chin, he already had enough scars there. Your eyes completely fixed on his lips with no excuse, feeling his breath fan your face, silently praying that no one would come around the corner.

“Shit, y’know I just lit that? You said regarding your cigarette, this was hit with a quick, nearly harsh “I don’t care.” from him. He couldn’t stand the cold anymore. Taking you into a deep, open-mouthed kiss, his tongue quickly pushing into your mouth. It was like a war on your body had now begun; his hips snapped against yours once before ripping his lips from yours with a deep growl ripping from his throat, he quickly grew needy, bunching up your layers of skirt before his hands quickly moved to pick you up. Your thighs instinctively wrapped tight around his waist as he pressed you against that same wall. He moved one of his hands down where his belt would be if his goddamn coat weren’t so long, his face pressed against your shoulder as he tried to work around it.

“Fuck.” He’d grunt, his fingers working at the belt once found, with gloved hands this was even more frustratingly difficult on his part, but as he did always, he managed to undo it, tugging his pants down to his thighs. You on the other hand were less patient, your hand has been under your skirt, and instead of taking off your panties you had ripped them completely, Arthur noticed when you threw the torn piece of lace onto the matching white snow. 

He’d guide himself under your skirt, his hand wrapped around his cock as he circled your sopping cunt with his head, surprised to say the least when he felt how soaked you were in such a short amount of time, now he’d wonder what you were thinking about to get you like this. He wouldn’t vocalize what he was thinking, instead focusing on doing this quick and fast. In and out.

He took his first thrust into you, stretching you to fit around his thick shaft. Though it put you into pure ecstasy. You knew better not to be loud, the thudding of your back hitting the log wall with every pound into your pussy was enough to peak someone’s curiosity. Your hand was tight over your mouth to suppress your moans. Arthur not wearing his hat gave you a perfect excuse to tangle your fingers in his sandy locks, tugging at them almost to silently say ‘Hurry up.’

Though you’d prefer this to last, you’d know every single one of his delicious, deep thrusts will only live on in your head for the next century. His pace got even rougher, more sloppy than before as he pumped himself faster. Pulling all the way out just to slam his cock back in. 

“Goddamn you’re tight, princess- fuckin’ makin’ me lose control.” He’d rasp right into your ear. His words broke you down into even more of a shaking mess than you were. The combination of his words and his tip hitting your g-spot over, and over, and over again sent you over the edge, your cunt clenched around him, now he didn’t want you to alert nobody, of course. His mouth took yours into — once again — a deep, messy kiss, feeling your moan vibrate down his throat. He’d grip your thigh with one hand, keeping you against the wall as he used his other to help himself out of you, spitting into his palm to add extra slickness to his already cum-covered cock, tightening his grip around it to mimic your pussy, though he couldn’t get it that right. With a few more pumps from his hand he’d cum over his fist, with a low drawn out “Fuccccckkkkk…” 

You marveled at the sight, seeing Morgan’s O-face wasn’t something you could ever imagine not even in your sick mind, seeing his eyebrows furrowed together as his jaw slacked, it was something else to say the least. Your words were stolen from you after everything that had happen, somehow now hot even standing in the cold snow with your skirt hitched around your hips.

When you heard the door creek open in the distance you two hastily got yourself out of that position, adjusting your coats as you quickly tugged your layered skirt down to your boots once again. A small pant almost of relief came from you as you saw it was Dutch leaving the cabin, of course he walked straight, if he’d only have turned a bit he could’ve saw the sight of you and Arthur standing there with flushed faces, various things scattered the snow around you — including your panties.

You picked the ripped fabric off of the ground, still a bit shocked it had even come to this. “This might’ve been my only pair.” The silence was broken by your words, at the least you got a weak chuckle from Arthur, your cheeks flushing at the sound. You two were completely spent.

Later into the night you two were actually in the cabin this time; sitting in two separate chairs by the now lit fireplace, Arthur smoked as your hands reached in front of you to feel the warmth. The fire casting a warm light over the both of you in the otherwise dark cabin. 

“You know, that was nice.” That may have been the first you had mentioned the events from hours ago since. His eyes flicked towards you, a smirk tugged at his lips. 

“You’re a beautiful girl.” He’d reply, flattering, very much. “It’s gettin’ late. ‘Stead of walkin’ to the girl’s cabin why don’t you just stay in my bed.” He offered, and that offer you couldn’t refuse.

“I’d like that.” You’d smile at him, the both of you getting up as his took your hand into his leading you to his small bedroom.

And as you could — probably — imagine, you two didn’t exactly sleep that night. The creeks and whines of Arthur’s cot that could be heard from the other rooms told anyone with ears that.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???

Grounded || LN4 & CL16

AN: Been a while since I watched it but this was fun to write ☺️ virgin!fem!reader

The backseat to Lando’s Range Rover was spacious and you stretched your legs out to settle in for the drive. A snow storm had grounded the planes in London and Lando had offered to put you both up for the night. As Charles assistant you had tried your best to find a hotel but with Christmas right around the corner everything decent was booked out.

Lando had said to call him if you ever needed anything, but you hadn’t been brave enough to use it until now.

“Are you sure it’s okay to drive in the snow?”

“It’s 4 wheel drive,” Lando replied as he looked at you in the rear view mirror and reassured you with a smile. “We’ll be fine, but if we get stuck at least we can huddle for warmth.”

Your eyes widened at the departing wink in the mirror and your cheeks could have melted all the snow within the greater London area. It would have been a service to the city worth a damehood by the King himself.

“Stop teasing my assistant, Lando,” Charles said with a laugh. “She accidentally deleted my calendar the last time you flirted with her.”

You wanted to argue but he had left you so frazzled you hit the wrong buttons on your iPad. It had been mortifying and the fact your boss was bringing it up again only made you slink lower in the leather seat. It was hard enough to work with such a handsome man, but the fact that his friends that he competed against were just as handsome made your life much harder. At least Charles paid you so there was a line of employee/employer relationship that kept things professional, but there was still the occasional comment that crossed that line - and you never knew how to handle it. Mostly, your brain just shut down.

Shoving your AirPods in, you started to open Spotify to find a distraction from your embarrassment and they both noticed it.

“I can’t help it, you cannot tell me that you don’t find the innocent vibe hot?”

Your fingers froze over the song you were about to play and realised they thought you were already listening to something.

“She’s my assistant.”

“That’s not a denial.” Lando was grinning from ear to ear. “I bet she’s still a virgin.”

You spluttered indignantly and both men looked at you, Charles over his shoulder and Lando in the mirror. Tugging the AirPods out you narrowed your eyes and lied, “I am not a vir-” you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it but you swallowed and took another attempt, “virgin.”

The weak lie caused a crack in the press of lips, until both men laughed outright. Huffing, you crossed your arms and looked out the window. “Does it really even matter?”

“Aren’t you even curious?” Lando shot back.

“I know all about sex, for Christ’s sake, I do read.”

“I’m not sure reading is quite the same as doing in this case,” Charles said, remembering the many times he caught you slamming a book closed at his entrance. He was even more intrigued about those thick volumes now.

“Reading doesn’t threaten to leave me disappointed as I have heard men tend to do.”

Lando scoffed and shook his head. “I haven’t had that complaint. Charles?”

“No, no complaints either.”

“I’m sure it’s less romantic than the books describe too, like kissing. What is so good about possibly chipping a tooth, or sharing saliva?”

The SUV screeched to a halt into a rest stop and Lando turned in his seat. “Wait. You’re telling me you’ve never been kissed?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Charles asked, before he turned and saw the telltales signs of your discomfort. “No, really? How? You are beautiful.”

Your mind went to that place of thoughtlessness, where every neurotransmitter misfired and your heart seemed to find itself beating in two places. “Uh…” you scrambled for an answer that they patiently waited for. “I don’t have any time to date so it just hasn’t come about.”

Charles certainly utilised your availability to be on call 24/7 but he hadn’t thought about the personal cost that took on you. He assumed you didn’t have or want a social life, not that he was the cause for it. Maybe that was why he next words slipped out without censoring, or so he told himself. “I will kiss you, right now.”

“Or I can, and I’m not your boss so there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it,” Lando countered, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Everyone deserves a perfect first kiss.”

You gripped the seatbelt across your chest as you tried to understand why they were both unbuckled and opening their doors. Cold air rushed in as both backdoors opened and they slipped in beside you, mist billowing from their breath before the warmth was sealed inside once more.

Your lips felt dry and they watched as the tip of your tongue peeked out between to wet them. Your fingers were gently pried off the belt until each hand was laced with theirs but you still stared ahead at the unhappy quiet road. “What if I don’t want to be kissed?”

Lando scoffed but Charles turned you to face him with one curled finger under your chin and a look that made breathing impossible. “Then tell me you don’t want to be kissed,” he whispered as his lips drew nearer, his breath fanning your cheek. The touch of his lips were chaste at best, a caress on cheek before trailing closer to the place where words failed. Your toes clenched in your boots and you trembled with anticipation until the air burst back into your burning lungs. Your lips parted with the intake and he struck.

Your stomach that had been knotted suddenly erupted in the explicable feeling you had only read about. Butterflies, chaotic and energetic, fluttered joyously around your insides and a foreign sound escaped your lips that danced with his.

“I think she likes that, Charles.” A hand on your throat stole you from the taste that you certainly wanted more of and when you opened your eyes you found the pair change from green to blue. “My turn, gorgeous.”

Lando didn’t tease. His hand squeezed and you gasped in response, a sound so similar to what Charles had drawn from you. He took the opening you gave him and devoured you with the hunger of a starving man. His tongue dominated yours as he tipped your head back and deepened the kiss further until you were certain you were going to be consumed by him.

You welcomed it.

You weren’t adept enough after two kisses to know whose was better, both left you yearning for more. But they were parked on the side of the road and you were all too well aware that losing your virginity in the back seat of a Ranger was not what you wanted. Even if your body screamed yes.

“How do you feel?” Charles asked as he eyed your swollen lips and your dilated pupils between your flustered blinks with pride.

“Uh…” You told yourself to think but it was nearly impossible, and the men chuckled with the knowledge they had kissed you stupid.

“Just think of what other ‘firsts’ we could be,” Lando offered as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip, wanting another taste. “We could be snowed in for a while.”

“Wait, what?” They cut through your mental haze with clarity and you sat up straighter. “No, the airport said tomorrow…”

Charles shrugged and your brows pinched. “The storm’s worsening, it might be a few days until the planes can take off.”

“It’s okay,” Lando assured you with a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll look after you.”

[paladin--strait]

12, 16 and 17 in the Christmas prompts with Jack Hughes, please [ maybe frenemies to lovers ooor brothers best friend?]

snowstorm - jack hughes

-

it was supposed to be a lowkey christmas weekend at luke’s family cabin in the mountains. just me, luke, his brothers jack and quinn, and no parents. honestly, i wasn’t all that excited. luke was my best friend, and quinn was cool, but jack? he was always the annoying middle brother. cocky, a bit of a know-it-all, and always ready to push my buttons. we didn’t exactly get along, and i wasn’t thrilled about being stuck in a cabin with him for a whole weekend.

“you sure about this?” luke had asked when i was packing. “jack can be a pain, but it’ll be fun. i swear, he’ll behave.”

“jack? behave?” i raised an eyebrow. “we’ll see.”

the first night wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t great either. we played cards, ate too much junk food, and made small talk. but jack kept making comments and teasing me for no reason, and i just couldn’t let it slide. quinn kept things light, trying to defuse the tension, but i could feel the electricity between me and jack. it was like there was this invisible line between us, and we both spent the whole night trying to see who could cross it first.

by the time we went to bed, the storm had really picked up. snow was coming down hard, and the wind sounded like it was going to blow the cabin away. i pulled the blanket over my head, trying to ignore the fact that i was stuck here for who knows how long and also trying to drown out the sound of jacks snoring.

the next morning, i woke up to the sound of the wind still howling outside along with the sound of jack and his own howling. i threw on a sweatshirt and grabbed a blanket, deciding to hang out by the fire. anything to avoid being trapped in a room with jack for too long. i didn’t want to deal with him today.

but of course, he had other plans.

“you’re up already?” jack’s voice cut through the quiet as he walked into the room. he was in a hoodie and sweatpants, looking way too comfortable for someone who’d just rolled out of bed.

“couldn’t sleep,” i muttered, not looking at him.

he flopped down next to me on the couch without asking. “yeah, well, we’re snowed in, so you’re stuck with us now.”

“lucky me,” i said dryly, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

“oh, come on,” he said, sounding amused. “don’t be like that. it’s christmas.”

i just shrugged. “yeah, it’s great.”

he looked over at me, smirking. “so, what’s your deal? you and me have known each other for years, but we still can’t talk without bickering. what’s up with that?”

i froze for a second. i wasn’t expecting him to actually ask. “we just don’t get along. that’s how it is.”

jack gave me a side-eye. “so you’re just gonna act like we’re not basically the same person? both of us are stubborn as hell.”

i narrowed my eyes at him. “i’m nothing like you.”

“oh really?” he shot back, his grin widening. “you sure about that?”

“yeah,” i said, crossing my arms, “i don’t go around making everyone else’s life harder for fun.”

jack raised an eyebrow. “you sure? because you’re doing a pretty good job of making my life harder.”

i didn’t have a good comeback to that, so i just looked away, staring out at the snow piling up outside. there was this weird quiet between us, a kind of unspoken thing that hung in the air. jack wasn’t pushing me anymore, but the tension was still there. it was always there.

after a while, quinn came in, presumably woken up by the sound of us arguing. he grins as he looked between us. “hey, don’t you two get enough of this when you’re home?”

“he started it,” i muttered, but quinn was already shaking his head.

“sure, sure,” quinn said, laughing. “you two should at least try to have one nice moment while we’re stuck here.”

jack leaned back against the couch, stretching out like he owned the place. “fine. i’ll be nice.” he gave me an exaggerated grin. “but don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

i rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. we sat there, the fire crackling, the storm still raging outside. it was awkward, but the silence felt… different now. it wasn’t tense in the same way. i found myself glancing at jack more than once, but every time i did, he was looking at the fire, almost like he was waiting for me to speak.

the storm finally slowed down later in the afternoon, and the snow seemed to settle, leaving everything outside completely still. jack stood up, stretching his arms.

“snow angels,” he said, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“what?” i ask, looking at him confused.

“snow angels,” jack repeated. “you know, the thing you do when there’s a ton of snow and you’ve got nothing else to do.”

“really?” i said, raising an eyebrow as i stand up. “that’s what you’ve got?”

“yep,” he said, grinning. “come on, it’ll be fun. or are you too cool for it?” he pushes my shoulder softly, not in a mean way, but a playful way.

i roll my eyes, stumbling a little. “i’m not too cool for it. i just think it’s kind of dumb.”

“you’re scared,” he teases, a challenge in his voice.

“I’m not scared,” i shot back, walking up to him with my arms crossed. “but i am going to make the best angel out there.”

jack smirked. “we’ll see about that.”

we went outside after putting on our jackets, the cold still biting at our skin. but the world around us was gorgeous. everything was covered in snow, untouched and perfect. i could feel the quiet all around us, almost like the world had paused for a moment.

jack dropped to the ground first, sprawling out dramatically to make his snow angel. i couldn’t help but laugh at how over-the-top he was being. he looked at me, eyes shining with amusement. “you sure you can beat this?”

i dropped to the ground beside him, spreading my arms and legs out to make my own snow angel. the snow was soft, and it felt oddly peaceful lying there. i could hear jack laughing beside me, but for once, it wasn’t that annoying, teasing laugh. it was genuine.

when we finally sat up, both of us covered in snow, jack gave me a surprised look. “huh. you actually made a good one.”

“thanks,” i said, brushing snow off my arms. “yours is okay too, i guess.”

we walked back to the cabin together, still a little cold, but something had changed. the tension between us had cracked a little. maybe it was the snow, or maybe it was just finally getting out of that stupid cycle of arguing. either way, i didn’t mind it as much.

as we walk closer to the cabin, jack nudged me with his shoulder as we stepped inside. “so, next time, snowball fight?” he smiles, this time it's genuine and makes my heart do a little flip.

i laugh, shaking my head. “we’ll see about that.”

and for the first time in a long time, i meant it. something had shifted between us, and i wasn’t exactly sure what it was yet. but i knew one thing, maybe, just maybe, jack wasn’t as annoying as i thought he was.

[lnfours]

‘everyone wants him that was my crime’ with lando/charles? so excited for ur ask day! ❤️

absolutely, positively sobbing 🥺

jordans snow day ☃️

you knew what you were signing up for that very first date at the cafe in monaco, knew what you were getting yourself into when he showed up with flowers asking you to be his.

it’s not like he kept that part of himself hidden, you knew his profession and how many people longed to be you when photos leaked of the two of you going out to get dinner. even months later, it still shocks you the kind of things people comment on your posts on your social media.

you had made the mistake of scrolling through the comments of a tiktok about you and your boyfriend. the rude comments about the two of you drowning out the ones that supported you. you knew you shouldn’t have looked to begin with, but now you sat with blurry vision as you scrolled.

you normally wouldn’t have let the comments bother you, reminding yourself that at the end of the day, he was coming home to you. but for whatever reason, right now, it felt like you had committed the biggest crime. like you had robbed them of him, even though he didn’t belong to them.

you didn’t hear the door to your bedroom open, jolting at the sound of your boyfriends sweet, soft voice, “baby?”

he had entered the room and immediately froze, spotting the tears rolling down your cheeks. his mind went a mile a minute thinking of the worst possible things that could’ve happened to make you upset. rude comments being the last thing on his mind.

he sat down next to you, taking your face into his hands and gently wiping away the tears, “what’s up, sweetheart?”

you shook your head, “it’s nothing,”

“it’s not nothing if you’re crying,” he said, “you can tell me, it’s alright.”

you sniffled and turned your phone to him, letting him take it from your grip as he read through the comments. the comments talking about you, your looks, your body, your relationship. you bit down on your lower lip as his eyes scanned over the screen.

he locked the phone, tossing it to the side as he pulled you into his warmth, “c’mere,”

you slid into his arms gently, resting your face against his chest as he got comfortable on the bed next to you. he ran through your hair with his fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head, “you know i love you, right?”

you nodded, “i know.”

“and that i don’t agree with anything those comments said, you’re beautiful, on the inside and out. you’re my favorite human. you know that, too, right?”

you nodded against his chest again, repeating yourself, “i know.”

“don’t listen to a thing those people say,” he said, “you’re it for me, okay?”

he tilted your chin to look back at him, his eyes meeting yours, “okay?”

you nodded, giving him a soft smile, “okay,”

he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, breaking apart as he pushed hair from your face, “you want me to say something to them?”

you shook your head, “they’re just gonna keep saying these things,” your fingers traced over his beauty marks, “i normally don’t let it get to me, but i don’t know why it hit me this hard today.”

“it’s okay,” he shook his head, “nothing to apologize for. i just want you to know that you’re the one i wanna wake up next to, even if you drool.”

“i don’t drool!” you giggled, calling back to the teasing that took place earlier on in the morning when you woke up. you swatted at him playfully, a grin on his face as your laugh echoed through the bedroom. his second favorite sound you make.

you know the first.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Day.10 ~ Dragons against the cold ~

Aemond x fem!reader

warning : fluff, kissing, comfort, cuddling, mentioning of war

Summary : Even though the dragons were dancing and fire was everywhere, it was still winter that came over Westeros and so did the snow, a snow that could do nothing against the warmth of Aemond and his dragoness Vhagar when he flew out with his wife.

info : I knew at least one had to come from hotd and hey Aemond needs a little winter love. I hope you enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the air got colder the higher he flew with Vhagar he hardly noticed, not only did he fly with Vhagar relatively covered but the dragoness was so infused with the warmth of her fire that he never froze.

At most, the newly hatched and small dragons of his niece and nephew felt cold, but not the queen of dragons, whose scaly leathery skin probably never really knew the feeling.

A feeling of trembling, of fear of retreat when he went into battle alone, not knowing how long the war would drag on...for who else would face his half-sister?

From the moment this war began Aegon had to be protected, the queen was in deep mourning after the loss of the prince and he, Aemond was the only one who could and would fight.

,,How long will you keep this up until I lose you?” his wife's voice made him pause, the morning was early, breath coming like mist over his lips as the one-eyed prince turned to her.

She was wrapped in his robe, the night they had spent together long overdue, the taste of her kisses, her softness and love it was what drove him on, what kept him going, ,,As long as it takes for the black to fall but Vhagar and I will be victorious...we always are” he countered, his steps coming back to her.

Fine hands stroked her cheek while the spahir flashed in his eyes as she kissed him goodbye, ,,Then be victorious today too, may the stranger have mercy on the snowstorm” she let him ride out of the palace to join Vhagar.

All she could do on this snowy morning was look up at the sky to see him fly away and keep her family company and support.

Be it reassuring Aegon, trying to ease Helaena's sorrow, making Alicent realize how urgent the strike was and showing Otto the letters and promises of the lords once more.

She tried what she could while her heart yearned for her beloved, whom she prayed would return, that winter would be merciful...until the moment he didn't come back one morning, even in the evening.

Her tears had already stained the pillow and her nightgown, her brother-in-law was raging, her sister-in-law was weeping bitterly and the Widow Queen was almost dying of worry, Otto had not given up hope with Ser Criston.

Until the moment when winds blew around her room, massive wing beats could be heard and she heard the door to her room open, ,,Do not frighten my heart, I promised I would return...I had been looking for a place for our quiet moment,” he whispered as he sat down by her bed, dried her tears with his hands and placed a kiss on her fingers.

Tear veiled eyes looked at him as he wrapped her in a winter cloak and lifted her into his arms in one movement, ,,What is this?” she asked as he simply carried her out of the palace to his horse, probably to return to Vhagar who was waiting outside.

But he didn't answer the question, instead he just had a small smile on his lips, a smile she had only seen when he had teased his nephews and seemed to be cheerful.

Aemond's arms closed around hers as Vhagar rose to fly north and she soon stopped shivering as the dragoness's warmth spread to their bodies, ,,It's nice isn't it?” he asked and she agreed, the warmth of the fire was really nice, like sitting in front of a fire but not burning.

The minutes and hours that passed were interspersed with kisses, tender words and kisses before he shook her slightly awake and she saw what he had discovered, just before the border of the north of the Stark, a huge waterfall had frozen and was now glittering like a giant crystal in the rising sunlight.

,,This is beautiful,” she said, leaning forward slightly on the saddle, Aemond sitting behind her, a look of contentment on his face, it was a place of peace without the fervor of war, a moment of retreat and no hatred, a moment he could finally enjoy alone with his beloved.

,,Only you are more beautiful" he smirked and watched her smile before pulling her lips into another kiss as the roar of Vhagar could be heard as the frozen waterfall began to cast a peaceful rainbow for the lovers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lalacliffthorne]

cold moody days before christmas mean candles and gingerbread. 🎀

(bc christmas is right around the corner and I rlly need some cozy wholesomeness. preferably with these boys. and a cuddle. aaaannnddd yeah that's pretty much it.)

Shivering softly, I pulled up my shoulders, pressing my nose against the kitchen window. The glass was ice cold, my forehead bumping against the wreath hanging from the frame as I stared at the sky, dark and grey even though It was barely before noon. It had been chucking down since last night, a disgusting mix of sticky snow and big cold drops that splattered against the windows and froze slightly on the pavement because of the cold.

The candles on the kitchen table flickered, and I wiggled my toes in my thick fluffy socks with another shiver before turning around, picking up the big bowl I had pulled from the cabinet in passing.

The front door opened as I started pouring flour into the bowl, nose scrunched in focus. The sound was followed by a deep voice cursing lowly, and barely holding back a snorted giggle, I looked over my shoulder, just in time to see Cassian appear in the doorway, completely soaked from head to toe.

"See that?" Widening his arms exasperatedly, he raised his brows. "I showered at the gym. I should've skipped that. I got sopping wet just getting from the car to the front door. This isn't Christmas weather, it's bullshit!"

I barely held back a giggle, sending him a wide grin. "Hi Cass, good to see you too-"

Glowering, Cassian trudged over, dropping his head, and with a grin, I stretched to press a kiss onto offered cheek.

"Hi,", Cass grumbled, looking a bit less cross when he straightened up again and furrowed his brows at the bowl and scale in front of me. "Fuck, please tell me you're baking something."

I grinned softly.

"Yup. I thought making gingerbread at least once seems obligatory this time of year." I blinked and squinted at my phone that was propped against the toaster. "I've never tried this recipe before, but it looks promising." I shrugged and picked up the flour again.

"Need help?" Cass raised a strand of his soaking wet hair that was dangling in front of his face and glared at it.

"Uhm,", I scrunched my brows, "yeah, sure. You could help start measuring everything? You,", I snorted softly, "might want to change first though." I grinned at the puddle slowly forming around him, and cursing softly, Cassian quickly turned around.

About half hour later, after Cassian had changed into dry sweats and a t-shirt and had his half dried hair pulled back haphazardly, we were moving around the kitchen, bumping elbows and snickering. The dough was almost ready, courtesy of well practiced team work, and Cassian kept bumping his hip into my side, barking laughter whenever I smacked him with a towel.

"Stop that." Huffing, I threw the used dough hooks to the side.

"Sorry." Cassian sent me a toothy grin that could not have looked any less apologetic even if he'd tried.

Grumbling softly, I pushed the big bowl with batter into his arms. "Hold this, we're gonna have to knead it before it can chill."

"Yes, ma'am." Smirking when I glowered at him, Cassian blew a strand of hair out his face.

It took whining from my side when Cass tried to eat the batter and us changing places half way through, Cassian taking over the kneading, winking when I caught myself staring at his arms, until the dough was back in the bowl and in the fridge to chill. Cass put on the kettle as I started to fill the dishwasher.

"So,", he leaned his hip against the counter and arched a brow at me, "any reason you're in the kitchen, baking at 11 am on a Wednesday?"

I blinked before raising my head to crunch my brows at him. "It's cold and grey; that not reason enough?"

Cassian grinned lightly, his warm eyes twinkling when he pointed one of the dough hooks at me.

"Technically, yes. But you're also still in your pyjamas, Rhys isn't around and you're not listening to christmas music, at least that,", he pointed over his shoulder towards the speakers, "is a bit mellow."

I huffed. "So?" I pouted a little, squeezing a bowl into the upper drawer of the dishwasher as I grumbled: "Maybe I just needed some calm."

Cassian's lips curved as he watched me. Then he gently nudged my shin with his foot. "You okay, sweets?"

Breathing out, I straightened, the smell of the candles mixing with the scent of spices as I felt the warmth in my cheeks from the heater, and slowly, my lips rose as I felt the steady thrum in my chest.

"Yeah." I exhaled softly again, blinking. "I just really need a slow, calm day."

Cassian slowly smiled, his cheek creasing and the scar on his face shifting.

Dropping the dough hook carelessly into the dishwasher, he moved past it, and I just managed to widen my eyes a little, then I was pulled into a warm, ribcrushing hug.

Dramatically freezing in place, I wheezed softly.

"Hrrghhh..."

Cassian's chest vibrated when he laughed, deep and rumbling, his arms wrapping tighter around me as he dropped his head and pressed a series of exaggerated kissed onto my cheek until I crunched my nose and squeezed one eye shut.

"Okay, yep -" I broke off with a soft squeak when Cassian lifted me off my feet and squeezed me tightly. He wiggled me around until my feet swayed through the air and I couldn´t hold back the giggles bubbling in my throat.

Finally giving up, I relaxed into his hold, and Cass chuckled. Then he dropped me back onto my feet and straightened up, sending me a wink.

"Slow day it is."

When the door in the hall opened again, Cassian and I were bickering about the best way to get the dough from the counter onto the baking tray. The first batch was already in the oven and the flat smelled like spices and sweet dough as rain still pelted against the windows. Cassian's shirt was doused in flour and I had a streak of it on my cheek, my elbow wrestling with Cassian's as I craned my neck just in time to see a sopping wet Rhys appear in the door, glaring.

"Hi." I sent him a wide smile as Cassian behind me saluted sarcastically in greeting and flicked some flour at me.

If possible, Rhys' glare deepend. Then, with nothing more than a huff, he turned around.

Five minutes later, he appeared back in the doorway, wearing dry sweats and a t-shirt and rubbing his hair with a towel. I turned to look at him over my shoulder while kicking Cassian's shin, trying to push against his side. "Want some hot chocolate?"

Rhys grunted, and I wrestled myself half past Cassian, hanging under his arm to reach for the small steaming pot on the stove. I felt his chest vibrate as he chuckled, holding me upright until I had straightened again. Wiping my sticky hand on Cassian's t-shirt and ducking with a grin to avoid his flour covered fingers trying to flick my forehead, I poured some sweet smelling hot chocolate into a mug. "Do you want mini marshmallows?"

Rhy dropped the towel over the back of a chair and made a grumbled sound I interpreted as a Yes. When I raised my head, he appeared beside me, and the scowl on his face smoothed over a little when he took the mug I handed him, dropping his head to press a kiss onto my hair. "Thanks."

"Mhm." I grinned up at him and patted his cheek, leaving a white, sticky handprint. Cassian behind me cracked up, and Rhys narrowed his eyes at me in a glower.

I slowly beamed, and Rhys huffed, a grin fighting its way onto his face as his nearly violet eyes began to twinkle just a little. Then he sniffed and raised his brows.

"Fuck, that smells good." He crouched down to breathe in the scent wafting from the oven and immediately groaned softly. "Darling, I think I might have to step down from being responsible for the kitchen."

"Keep dreaming,", I grumbled drily, causing Cassian to snort.

Leaning past him, I raised my brows at Rhys. "Wanna help?"

Pushing himself up, Rhys sighed deeply, but his eyes twinkled when he rolled them dramatically towards the ceiling. "Fine..."

"No, no, no, careful -" I winced when Cassian nearly drowned his gingerbread star in icing.

The last batches of gingerbread cookies were cooling on the counters. Bowls with differently colored icings and toppings were scattered over the big dining table, and Cassian and Rhys were sitting opposite of me, Rhys' chair backwards as both leaned over plates full of gingerbread cookies, little piping bags dwarfed by their hands as they (more or less carefully) iced the cookies. I was perched on the couch, carefully decorating my own cookies. The whole flat smelled like gingerbread, the candles flickered and outside, the sky was grey.

The front door fell shut, and when I raised my head, my heart rose into my throat.

Azriel stood in the door, soaked to the bone, his wet skin shimmering in the warm light, drops of water running over his cheekbones. A few clung to the dark strands of hair curving over his forehead, and suddenly, something was twitching and pulsing in my stomach, my throat dry when my gaze followed a droplet of rain running over the curve of his throat. Then I blinked and quickly tore my eyes up, and my heart caught in my throat when they clashed with golden amber ones.

Azriel's gaze narrowed in, and little by little, one corner of his lips curved upwards as he slowly leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. My breath hitched, and I felt a warm flutter slowly rising in my chest.

"Hey!"

I blinked and tore my eyes away from Azriel's, and Cassian looked over his shoulder, sending him a wide smirk. "Got wet?"

Azriel stared at him as water trickled over his face, then he pushed off the doorframe and turned around wordlessly.

A few minutes later, he returned, his hair messy and damp, wearing grey joggers and a black shirt that clung to his shoulders, causing something to dip in my stomach. Rhys and Cassian had gone back to bickering, bumping elbows, but when he picked up a mug and poured himself the rest of the hot chocolate, Cass looked over his shoulder.

"C'mon, dude, we need help."

"Speak for yourself,", Rhys mumbled, brows crunched in focus. The next second, he yelped, icing splattering everywhere after Cassian had bumped his elbow into his ribs.

The two started bickering loudly, kicking each others shins, and the cushions next to me dipped, a wave of cedar cologne and chilled air washing over me, causing something in my chest to rise.

My gaze darted up, and Azriel slid into the space behind me, his warm chest pressing into my back as one of his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me half back into his lap so I didn't slide off the couch.

My heart pulsed as something fluttering and giddy rose under my ribs, and I turned my head, feeling my breath catch in my throat when my gaze flickered over Azriel's face right next to mine, his amused twinkling eyes on the two idiots on the other side of the table. My eyes darted over his profile, the sharp line of his nose and soft lips that twitched lightly. Then his low, deep voice vibrated through me, causing me to blink and my heart to stumble.

"Think we can sell them or something?"

A snorted giggle left me, and Azriel slid his free arm over my shoulder and down my chest, dragging me backwards into his body before burying his nose in the crook of my neck.

My heart rose against my ribs, a small sound leaving me as I buried back into him, and Azriel's lips curved against my skin. His warm breath fanned over my skin when he nudged his nose lightly against my neck, then he dragged it up over my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake and my heart swerving.

"Oi."

A piece of gingerbread hit my forehead; I jumped softly and raised my eyes quickly, and Azriel turned his gaze ahead to glare at Rhys and Cassian who were smirking at us.

"Are you two gonna go make out or help?" Cassian's grin was shit-eating.

Azriel deadpanned, and snorting a soft giggle, I bumped my elbow into his chest, leaning forward. "C'mon, or we'll still be here tomorrow."

"Cass eats the ones left before that." Azriel took the piping back and small gingerbread house I handed him, the gold specks in his eyes twinkling, and the corner of his lips tipped upwards when Cass snorted and flipped him off.

Taking another gingerbread cookie, I started to carefully pipe icing onto it, Rhys and Cass going back to bumping against each other and playfully grumbling, and Azriel shifted, boxing me in between his thighs as he leaned against the backrest and carefully began icing the gingerbread. Music hummed from the speakers as rain splattered against the windows and the bickering turned from icing to what movie to watch once we were done, the smell of gingerbread mixing with Azriel's scent, and something warm pulsed under my ribs as my lips curved upwards slowly into a beaming smile.

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123

[gingiesworld]

Missing Piece

Taylor Swift x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @lizzieislife94x

18+ MINORS DNI

Y/N Y/L/N was a name that no one in the public had heard of, although they were the one that Taylor had loved with all of her. But the moment she had gotten bigger, her name was known worldwide, every teen girl was a huge Swiftie. Tickets would be sold out worldwide. But the break up was always raw in the back of her mind.

Y/N knocked on her door, after dating since Junior year in high school. They had watched as she released her first album. Her first tour was only small but Y/N had supported her dream.

"Y/N, I thought our date was tomorrow." She spoke as she stepped outside.

"No." They told her as she observed the sad look on their face. "I can't do this, us anymore Tay."

"Don't." She told them as she stepped away. "Don't you finish that sentence."

"You're going to be huge, Taylor. Your music's taking off and I am just me. A simpleton."

"No." She told them with tears in her eyes. "You're more than that."

"I don't want to hold you back. You're meant to be more than just this small town girl." They told her. "This is all I am meant for, I go to a community college for crying out loud."

"I don't care." She told them. "We can make this work." She cupped their face as they exhaled a shaky breath.

"No." They told her. "I can't keep doing the long distance. I can't keep you from being who you're meant to be."

"I love you." She told them as they kissed her forehead.

"I love you but I have to let you go." They told her, releasing her and moving away from the porch. "Just promise me one thing. That this place here, at Christmas will always be ours."

"I promise." She told them as they gave her one last smile.

That was the last she had seen or heard of them. Although they had kept the same number, Taylor had never lost it, always transferring it to her new phones. She always wondered if they had ever gotten out of the town, if they had managed to get a job or career away from where they had grown up, but Y/N wasn't that lucky. Unfortunately they remained working on their parents ranch, although they had a teaching degree, they just couldn't put it to use as their father had fallen ill, landing them with more responsibilities.

But they had made sure to buy every record that Taylor had made, everytime she was performing live nearby, they would be in the crowd. A proud smile on their face as she played her music as everyone cheered.

She never knew that they had supported her, or that they were in the crowd every time she played in their home town. They heard about every relationship, every break up that she had gone through. Wondering why no one would love and care for her the way she deserved. She deserved more than what those relationships had given her. She deserved to be happy and loved unconditionally. Just how Y/N had always loved her.

Every Christmas, they returned to the place where they would walk, the snow covered hills and trees as the cold wind cut through their skin. There was a lake nearby that froze over every year, but it was always thin, not safe to walk on.

"I love this." She whispered as Y/N smiled at her. Admiring her rosy features as the frost bit her skin.

“I love you.” They whispered as she smiled at them.

That was the last exchange they had before Taylor had stopped coming to their spot. Leaving Y/N to wonder every year how the rising star was doing. If she thought of them as much as they thought of her.

They saw articles of Taylor moving forward with her life, moving on with new relationships. So, while they were at college, they met the woman who would become their wife and the mother of their children, but that was all short lived.

“You keep saying how you love me, but I can see it.” Tracy told them. “Your heart isn’t mine. It never was.”

“Trace.” Y/N tried as they reached for her, only for her to flinch and step back. “I do love you. I love you and our girls.”

“I know you do.” She sighed in defeat, her tears falling. “But your heart isn’t in this marriage and I know it hasn’t been since we got together. I tried to ignore it, I really did, but I need to do this for me.” Y/N bit their lip as they looked away from her. “I think we need a divorce.”

“No.” They whispered as she moved to cup their face.

“We can still be friends, raise the girls together.” She told them. “We just can’t be us anymore.”

“I’m sorry.” They whispered as they closed their eyes.

“It’s ok.” She told them softly. “I don’t hate you. I don’t think I could ever hate you.” She kissed their lips one last time before packing herself a bag. Leaving Y/N in the bedroom alone, feeling like their whole world was crumbling.

The divorce proceedings ran smoothly, the two had taken 50/50 custody of the girls. What Y/N never expected was to do christmases without their daughters. But since the moment Tracy had met her now fiancè, they felt out of place spending the holidays there. Although the girls tried to make them feel at home, they never did.

That was how they ended up where they are now, sat in their usual spot, watching over the frozen lake. The one place they always felt at home, soon broken from their reverie as they heard the snow crunch beneath someone's footsteps.

“Hey you.” They heard the one voice they longed for.

“You’re here?” They asked shakily as they rose to their feet, watching as she nodded with a teary smile. “But your dream?”

“Means nothing if you’re not there with me.” She told them honestly. “I always felt as though a piece of me was missing, but I figured it out.” She cupped their face as she gazed into their eyes. “It’s you. You’re my missing piece.”

“I love you.” They whispered as they felt the warmth radiate from her, noses touching as their lips ghosted the other.

“I love you.” She whispered before kissing them softly. The first time it felt like they were complete, the reason why neither could truly move forward was because the other had their heart. The first Christmas in years that the two felt at home.

[mytheoristavenue]

Day 11-

BES Mizu x Reader - Winter Proposal

Summary: Mizu has to ask you something before leaving for London.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, sad, rushed/short, spoilers, takes place days after the last episode, grammar

Yesterday's events still played fresh in your mind. The sounds of gunfire, screaming, and metal clanging rang in your ears like a broken record. You'd sustained some injuries, thankfully not from any man-made weapon. You'd been trapped in a collapsing building and pinned under a burning beam. Luckily, Ringo found you and dragged you to safety, before hauling you back to where Master Eiji lived.

The night was spent with Ringo tending to your wounds and delivering news of Mizu's death to her father, who pretended not to be phased. You were unprofessionally diagnosed with a shattered ankle and varying degrees of burning on your legs and waist. Nothing fatal, thank God.

In your short time with Ringo and Eiji, you'd taken to being placed out in the nearby forest. Close enough to yell for help, but far enough to get away from the noise and heat of the forge. Of course, you still had to contribute in some way, so every morning, Ringo would set you outside with a task, usually washing clothes or dishes in a rudimentary tub, and let you watch the woods for anyone looking for trouble. In the evenings, he'd come back and hang the clothes on the line if needed, as you were in no shape to walk.

-----

On the third day, you sat in your chair on the edge of the forest, humming and mending clothes when you finally did spot trouble. A slender figure came hobbling through the woods, peaking out from behind trees when it heard a twig snap. You eyed the shadow cautiously, ready to scream out for the men to protect you at a moment's notice.

"Leave us be, stranger," you warned, brandishing a kitchen knife you kept to cut stray scraps of fabric for patches. "I may be vulnerable, but I'm deadly with a blade even still."

"I know you are," a tired, hoarse voice croaked. "I taught you that."

Your heart skipped a beat at the possibility before you shook the hope away. "You haven't taught me anything, stranger," you rebuked. "The one who trained me is dead."

Just then, the knife plummetted to the snow, let go of by your trembling hands. The stranger finally had inched close enough for their face to be unobscured by the light shining through the trees. Glacier eyes peered down at you from under shaggy chocolate fringe as she leaned against the nearest tree, waiting for you to react.

Without another thought, you left out of your chair, forgetting entirely about the searing pain in your brutalized body, but crumbled at her feet, clinging to her pants.

"My darling," she gasped softly, falling to her knees with you to hold you in her arms. "You're hurt, I'm so sorry, I didn't even know-"

"Where were you?!" you sobbed into her shoulder, making her fall silent. "I thought you were dead- we all thought you were dead!"

"I am," she corrected, bringing your hands from her shoulders to cradle them in hers. "For now, at least. You can't tell anyone I came to you."

"I-I don't understand..." you sniffled, (e/c) gems boring into her very soul. "You only came to see me?"

Her face softened and she smiled. "Yes, my love, I did. I couldn't leave without telling you where I was going."

"You..." you froze in her grasp. "You're leaving again? B-But-"

"But nothing," she corrected, sternly but with love. "I'm going to London to continue my mission." she confessed.

"London..." you repeated. "W-What's that? Where is that? Why can't we go with you?" Your head was spinning, you were so hurt and overjoyed and confused all at the same time.

"It's very far away, in another country. But I promise I'll be back." Mizu swore, pressing a kiss to your forehead with her palms on either temple. "I'm gonna finish my mission and I'll be back before you know it, and we're gonna live a normal life."

"We can't, you know that!" you argued but melted at her soothing touch. "Women can't be wed with one another, women can't buy property, women can't have kids together..." you trailed. "Besides, I know you'll never be done with this endless path of vengence..."

"I hate when you say things like that, my love," Mizu cooed. "Lips as lovely as yours have no place uttering words so violent. You leave all that talk to me." A moment of silence passed between the two of you before she mushed you away enough to hold you at arm's length. "I promise you that I'll be back, and when I am, I'm going to marry you, (Y/N)."

"But how..." you sighed, immense sadness for the death of a dream making your chest hurt.

"I'm a man in the eyes of the law." she smirked. "I can travel unaccompanied, own land and property, and marry who I damn well choose. And...I choose to marry you. If you'll have me?"

You'd never seen Mizu so enthusiastically sure of anything, short of destroying her bloodline. It made you feel incredibly special, the amount of passion she seemed to carry for this. "I'll have you, but I have a few conditions."

"Which are?" she cocked a brow.

You reached up and cupped her cheeks with both hands. "Come back to me in one piece, promise me you will."

Mizu smiled, studying your face lovingly. "I promise I will."

"And I want a farm near Osaka so I can see my family, and I want children to chase around the yard." you dreamed.

"A farm in Osaka, got it," she snickered. "Though knocking you up may be a different story."

"We'll adopt some!" you chirped.

"I think I can do that," Mizu sighed happily, nuzzling into your throat. "I promise a thousand times, my love."

Almost as quickly as she appeared, she was leaving again, begrudgingly tearing herself away from you. "Promise to write me," you sniffled, getting ready to cry again as she helped you back into your chair.

"I will, but it'll be under an alias." she agreed, brushing the hair out of your face and gathering your things to put within your reach. "But you gotta promise me something too."

"Anything."

"Darling, wait for me."

[oflights]

wip snip 5.1

i've been tagged a bunch of times over the past few weeks to post wip snips and only had the last few chapters of star splitter to post, so i bailed. i finally have something new to preview!! have a bit of the gilmore girls fic, still in progress. 🥰

Just about 8 years ago, the bell over the doorframe jingled violently as Draco Malfoy threw the door open and swept in, already talking. “Bloody hell, that snow is abominable,” he was saying. He hefted a bundled, starfish-shaped form that would turn out to be a toddler by his hip, a pram scooting behind them and leaving a wet trail on Harry’s floor. With a flick of his wrist, the pram had folded up and nestled in the corner of the dining area, dripping there ignored, as Draco descended upon the counter much the same as he did almost every day.

“You, there—please tell me this place has something warm to—” And then Draco froze, because back then he had not done this every day; this was the first time, and more specifically the first time he had seen Harry Potter in the flesh since their eighth year of Hogwarts.

“Malfoy,” Harry had said, eyeing the puffy bundle warily. He didn’t know it was a toddler then; every bit of Scorpius was covered up and radiating Warming Charms. In hindsight, he was probably sweating, but Harry was to later learn that Scorpius had been a quite agreeable child until he learned to read—an apparent mistake that Draco despairs of having made a few times a week—and he made no complaints even dropped onto a stool as he was, propped up against his father.

“What are you doing here?” Draco, then Malfoy, had demanded. He looked utterly thrown and somehow offended, as if Harry’s existence in his own place of business was a grave insult to him.

“This is my place,” Harry said, and then as an instinctive response to Draco’s disbelieving scoff, he added, “I own it.” He’d hoped Draco would pick up on the implied threat—don’t be an arse or I’ll kick you out.

...

“This place is called Al’s,” Draco said accusingly. “You’re not Al.”

“Nope, I’m not. I’m Harry.” When Draco stared at him, Harry clarified, “Harry Potter.”

“I know you’re—who is Al, then?” Draco went pale beneath his winter flush. “Wait. Did you name this place after—Dumbledore?” He whispered the name as if ashamed, and Harry supposed that was about right, though it garnered him little sympathy.

Harry let that dread sit on Draco’s face for a few moments before he said, “No, it was already called Al’s when I bought it. Didn’t feel like changing the name.” He had changed everything else about it, though, spending one exhausting summer converting it from a pub no one really liked to go to anymore to a greasy spoon that people liked much more.

...

Harry had not opened this place and kept it open so he could be insulted and bullied; he was long past the time in his life when he would accept that, especially from the likes of Draco Malfoy. And so he opened his mouth once again to tell Draco to get out—ignoring all the questions he had for him, like what he was doing in this town, out in the snowstorm, carrying some sort of doll, maybe?

Before he could say so, and even before Draco could interrupt, the doll made a noise that made Harry startle and drop the rag he’d been wiping down the counter with. The doll made another noise, reached out, and grabbed the rag.

“Mine!” the doll said, lifting its head until a nose poked out of its bundling. That was when Harry realized that what Draco had set down on the stool was a toddler.

“Not yours,” Draco said as Harry tried to process this. “Let it go, Scorpius, it’s disgusting!”

“Oh,” said Scorpius, in a very wobbly sort of voice. His head tipped up so much that Harry could now see wide eyes, which were a complex hazel shade that made him really start to wonder what Draco was doing with a toddler. Said eyes were glistening slightly, and to accompany the look, Scorpius said, “Okay,” in the saddest little voice Harry had ever heard. He dropped the rag back on the counter; he could barely move his arm in his heavy, puffy coat.

“He can have it,” Harry said quickly; he grabbed up the rag and tried to hand it back, unable to deal with that stricken face.

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Part 22: ~

Reunions Part 2:

And now, it's Addair's turn. The next chapter will be a one-shot release for Halloween. It'll be out tomorrow.

Halloween Special:

Addair and Raffs had no reason to work together on The Beria, but on the farm, they oddly worked well together. Raffs thought Addair must have been a handyman in his previous life because he seemed to know everything. And not just from checking the fences.

When they passed through a deserted field, Addair's eyes caught the attention of a tractor that was beginning to rust. Instead of helping Raffs pry off the broken board for a new one, he lifted and examined the vehicle. From the punctured tires to the cracked clutch. Instead of being frustrated with Addair, Raffs was in awe of him. Not for the god-like strength he now possessed because he knew he could never come close to that, but for how knowledgeable he was.

He watched the engineer point out the faults and how he would fix them. Raffs was always willing to learn, and even if he'll never see farming in his future, it was a good way to break the ice with a man he was told to avoid.

'Will it ever run again?'

'After some trial and error, it might.'

'How do you know that?'

'I've only been an engineer for six years, Raffety. Before that, I did anything to scrape by.' That wasn't an original story. Like Caz, Roy, Innes, and possibly many others, they all came to the rig to either escape something or make a change. Raffs was different. He just followed Brodie. Brodie came for the prospect of money. Something that wasn't at all selfish in this economy.

As the pair finished their round, the sound of the snow crunching beneath their feet got closer. They didn't react at first, thinking it was Caz coming to help as Raffs began to hammer a nail into the post. That was until Addair heard the voice.

'Dad! Dad!'

Like with Gibbo, time froze, but unlike Gibbo, Addair turned with a smile on his face. He dropped the fence board he was holding, leaving Raffs to deal with it alone, and scooped up his son into a hug.

'Richard.' The youngest of his boys. Only seven years old. 'I missed you so much. Did you miss me?' Raffs was surprised. Not just because Richard didn't care what his dad had become, but because he had to remind himself that Addair was a member of the National Front. Looking at him now, you couldn't tell. Here, he was just being a good father. Who knew someone like Addair was a person under his political beliefs?

Richard nodded. 'Did you get my Christmas card?'

'Of course, and I let everyone know you made it. Now, where's Elliot?'

He knew where he was. It was a game the twins would often play. Richard would cause a distraction whilst Elliot tried to scare their dad. It never worked. Addair would either pretend to be scared or figure out his hiding spot. This time, it was the latter. Elliot had snuck is way around by going through the field. Raffs saw but didn't say anything. Instead of scaring his dad, Elliot felt a tendril wrap around his arm and be pulled up and over Addair's head. 'Oh, here he is.'

'Here I am!'

With a laugh, Addair brought his sons into a hug. Being the only one of two infected who still kept his arms had its advantages. Raffs smiled. It was a sweet reunion, but that soon came to a halt thanks to the voice of a woman only a few yards away.

'Calm down? How can I be calm?!' It was Jennifer. She stood beside her second eldest son, George, who looked both shocked and terrified by his mother's rage. Addair noticed, too, and set the boys down besides his work colleague. That was Raffs' cue to take them back to the house. 'My husband, your father, has been turned into that!'

Well, that stung. Still, Addair wasn't worried. He approached Jennifer, who had her back turned, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, turned, and took a few steps back. Okay. Now it hurt. Whatever remained of Addair's smile faded, and slight worry began to creep into his mind. He saw her eyes. She was scared, confused, and didn't know what to do with herself. This was Geroge's time to slowly step away and follow his brothers to the house.

'Jennifer. It's okay. It's just me.' She didn't reply. More worry. 'It's okay...'

'Stop saying that, Addair.' Now, complete worry entered his mind. She never called him by his name. Jennifer swallowed her fear, which was born from shock. But, now it was replaced with worry, but she couldn't bring herself to move. 'Look at what's happened to you. How are you okay?'

The words cut deep. Addair's jaw tightened, trying to hold himself strong to her words. A look of shame was in his eyes. Jennifer noticed and began to feel guilty, wondering why did she say such a thing. He wasn't okay, and they both knew that.

Addair carefully held out a hand and reached forward. 'But, it's still me, Jennifer. ' His hand rested on her cheek. After a moment, she leaned her face into him and, like Trots, rested her hand on his wrist. Her shoulders dropped, and she closed her eyes. She moved her head so that her face was in his hand. His smell was still there. Now, Jennifer didn't want to let go. Her fingers traced and touched his wedding ring. Tears swelled, but she stayed strong as she started to play with it.

Addair moved closer and adjusted his body to make it look like he was sitting. Carefully, he pulled and lifted Jennifer up and into one of his signature bear hugs. She clung to him, now no longer caring if she was hugging an exposed organ or blood vessel. 'Does it hurt?'

'No,' Addair answered truthfully. 'Not anymore.' More silence, as the pair enjoyed the moment. 'How's Tommy?' The question broke the hug. Jennifer's eyes were still full of tears.

'Still the same,' she replied as she began to unfurl her scarf to wrap it around Addair. 'The doctor said he still has brain activity, but apart from that, he's still sleeping.' A pause. 'I just want him to wake up.' Now, she began to cry, and Addair pulled her back into a hug. 'But that could take years.'

'And, we'll be there when he does. Okay? Please don't cry, Jenny.' Addair hated seeing his Goddess upset.

Of course, they had to think of Addair. How can he go back into society with a job, let alone go and see his son? That's what he wondered back when the fog was lifted. The question fueled his own anger towards Rennick, but Gibbo got to him first. But this wasn't about him anymore. He was just grateful to be back on land. He was grateful to have his wife in his arms and to see his sons smiling. The only thing they had to worry about now was Tommy.

He felt a kiss on his cheek that tightened the hug. They'll stay like this. At least for a little while.

[angieblogging]

when you lost control

read on ao3

summary -> Carol Danvers can keep her cool… just not when a guy obviously is hitting on her uninterested girlfriend.

pairing -> Carol Danvers/Reader (Established Relationship)

a/n -> If you guys could check out my pinned post, it would mean a lot <3 Also enjoy some protective & gay Carol. This is a very short one shot, like definitely shorter then my usual ones. ALSO TITLE IS A TAYLOR LYRIC (“when you lost control, red blood, white snow” aka “is it over now?”)

You and Carol have been a thing for quite a while, it was tough, she was busy a lot and not-on-earth a lot… But you made it work.

Finally there was a moment where both of you had free time, time to talk, to do anything and everything, so you figured a date is a good idea.

There was one bar in particular that you two haven’t visited yet in the area of your apartment, so that’s where you agreed to meet up, the only issue being that Carol was late. You didn’t expect her to be early, but at least on time. There wad a chance she had to cancel and you two were stuck not seeing each other again, but you still had hope.

Checking your phone made you even more anxious, especially when the time hasn’t changed. As the seat next to you was taken, your annoyance was growing, your disappointment, anger, everything that you weren’t meant to he feeling today is what you were feeling.

“So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing alone?” A voice next to you caught you off-guard, you turned your head just to meet eyes with a man, you in fact didn’t know.

He was about your age or older, smirking at you, his eyes were busy in the mean time looking at your tight dress, which in fact was not for his to look at.

“Waiting.” You kept your tone cold, making sure to not seem interested, him continuing this conversation was the last thing you wanted.

“Well, why don’t I keep you company, hm?” He chuckled like he just said something funny, nothing about this was funny.

There was a pit growing in your stomach and you were just praying for the phone to ring, for your girlfriend to show up, however all you got left was sitting at a bar, stood up as of now and talking to a guy who wanted to score.

“No, thanks.” A polite smile appeared on your face for a moment, just enough for him to see it as an invitation to place his hand on your shoulder.

You could feel his cold fingers brushing over your shoulder, you wanted to run, just leave, instead you…froze. He was in fact talking, but you were in fact not paying attention, you just had to figure out a way to get out…Fast and safe.

The man got quiet, looking behind your back, at something you couldn’t see.

“Hey there, sweeth—“ He didn’t got to finish, as the woman behind you twisted his hand, the one placed on your shoulder before hand.

The blonde pushed him, with a lot of strength, as the guy yelled out for help, she moved closer whispering something into his ear before letting him go.

She turned to you, worry on her face, well after all maybe your date wasn’t ruined, just late.

“Carol.” You sighed in relief, as you shoulders relaxed and soon enough wrapped around the woman.

“Hi honey…” She whispered, her voice was calming you even more, you finally felt at home.

“God… He just came out of nowhere and I—“

“It’s fine… I say we get out of here, hm?” She smiles at you, leading you out of the bar.

The cold air hits your warm skin, making you shiver, the good side is that you get to wear your girlfriend’s jacket.

“So… What did you say to him?”

“Oh, you know… Only nice stuff…” She chuckled before opening the door to her passager seat for you.

[leahsflwer]

Twilight - Them finding you crying 🌧️ pt.2

Warnings: Mentions of $uicidal thoughts, depression, insecurities, angst topics, fluff

Twilight characters x Y/N (Your/Name)

GO READ PART 1 first.. please lol

Jane -

Santiago was trying to flirt with you in the corridor and it was making you uncomfortable, with his hand on your waist and the other leaning on the wall. Jane felt how uncomfortable you were and came over telling him to leave, it was enough that he was even close to you. As soon as he rushed away you broke down in tears. She remembered her past and her crying and looked down for a moment before pulling you into a hug, which was extremely rare. She knew a tone about pain and knew how much you must have been feeling.

Alec -

You were nervous that your ability wouldn’t be enough to be in the Volturi. What if you did join and failed? These thoughts flew around your mind and Alec could sense your body language. He grabbed your hand to stop it from nervously shaking and gave you a comforting smile, lifting up his fingers and motioning for you to smile. Rubbing your back as Aro asked for you to reveal your powers to him, Caius and Marcus. After it went well he pulled you out of the room and kissed your forehead.

Demetri -

He froze up when he saw you in the empty thrown room, sitting upon the stairs, tears falling down your cheeks. Eventually after peaking around he walked over to you and beside you, noticing the picture in your hands. He ignored it and looked you in the eyes, asking what was on your mind. You told him you hated being a vampire, you used to be normal, have beautiful eyes, now you’re different and a vampire. He noticed the picture was of you when you motioned it and he took it, looking at it and ripping it in half and shaking his head.

~”She was beautiful but she isn’t the girl I love. I like this.” He said while cupping your face and smiling

Felix -

You got into a fight with Demetri and stood beside Felix as you yelled at him. He was being stubborn and rude and you were just not in the mood and snapped at him, you wanted to run forward and throw fists but Felix’s large arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into his chest. You realised it wasn’t worth it and just started crying, you turned around and cried on his chest as he shook his head at Demetri and told him to leave the room. Comforting you in a quiet way as he’s not very good with such topics.

Benjamin -

While everyone was enjoying the camp fire before the possible fight you had disappeared which caught his attention. He followed you off to a secluded area and noticed you sit down on a rock and fiddle with the snow. He noticed the tears building up and walked over to you, asking if you were alright, which you replied with by telling him you were scared. He nodded in agreement and hugged you, your head laying on his stomach considering he was standing and you were not.

~”I won’t let anyone touch a single hair on your body. I promise you that Sweetheart.”

Caius -

Everyone had left for the time being so you entered the thrown room believing you were alone to lean on the double doors, letting your emotions out as you cry. Obvious to the familiar vampire sitting on his thrown in thought on how to react to you. He eventually got up and walked down the steps towards you, you heard his black shoes tapping on the ground and nervously looked down knowing you were caught. He lifted up your chin to make you look at him and he ordered you to tell him what was upsetting his “princess/prince” as he called you.

Sam -

As he walked along the beach to find you, he wasn’t expecting the sight he saw. You were cut and just sitting there crying. He ran over to you and asked what happened when you told him how you had got into a fight with Leah he got angry. He wanted to tell her off but seen how badly injured you were. He felt angry but kept it in and carried you back to his place and laid you on his bed, doing everything in his power to make sure you’re alright, even if that means he has to ring the vampire (Carlisle) over to help you. He would do anything to make sure you’re okay and happy.

Paul -

Paul could sense the pain in your chest and could see how sad you were recently. How much you had been stressed with final exams. He has heard you crying in the bathroom of Sam’s house when he was there and felt sick to his core, as soon as you came out he grabbed your waist and pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head, rubbing your back and reminding you of how strong and talented you are. He was a softie for you and didn’t care otherwise.

Embry -

He spotted you looking down during classes, disappearing to the bathroom often, not wanting to go out anymore, the way you hide your body. He knew what was up but was obviously scared on how to approach the situation. But after talking to Sam he finally followed behind you into the woods and hugged you from behind. He took you somewhere only he knew about and once you were sitting against a tree together did he hold your hand and ask about how you felt, listening intensely as you spoke about your problems, kissing your insecurities and loving every part of you.

Jared -

He would be slightly oblivious to your feelings until he saw you not eating. It worried him and when he noticed the guys putting food in your face and forcing you to try and eat, he could see the tears in your eyes. Dragging you out of the house and sitting outside under shade so you don’t get wet from the rain, he sat with you and gave you a muffin.

~”You don’t have to eat anything if you can’t. If you even eat some of that I’ll be extremely proud of you doll. But never feel forced” he smiled sweetly