#it’s the fact I could see him launch himself off too

[verystressedcollegestudent]

if there's one thing i hate more than slackers in group projects its goddamn hypocrites

[sleepymarimo]

𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣!

summary: the first time you make their heart skip a beat, w/ monster trio + law! pairing(s): luffy x gn!reader, zoro x gn!reader, sanji x gn!reader, law x gn!reader cw: none! an: ahhhh idk how to feel about this one but i hope you enjoy :') 👐

luffy

there are a lot of things that get luffy's heart racing.

a good meal. a cool looking fish. a killer party. all of it makes this captain happy, because he revels in the adventure. he lives for the moment. he feels deeply and strongly, a trait that acts as a double edged sword.

like now, as a torrent of anger and worry swirl in his chest and weigh him down. he's running through some dense woods, bursting through trees and falling down hills, a look of determination on his face.

an enemy had managed to sneak up on the crew.

what's worse? they ran off. with you.

luffy doesn't think twice. he pushes through anything in his way for the sake of finding you before things got too rough. as he runs, he finds the enemy's actions cowardly. someone using you to draw him out makes him irritate. he doesn't care if he's falling into some trap; he'd deal with whatever was put in front of him so long as he could rescue you.

he's worried for your well being, of course he is. even though he can't see you, he can feel you. his observation haki lets him know how frightened you are, a fact that makes him all the more angry.

then finally, in the distance, he catches sight of you.

you're in a clearing, the enemy looming over you. they're raising a weapon in your direction, much too close.

luffy feels his blood boil. he grabs ahold of some trees, running backwards and preparing to launch himself in your direction as fast as he can. his rubber arms grow taut as he stretches, his mind set on rescuing you.

an annoyed huff leaves him when he hears the enemy taunting you, threatening your life and mocking your ambitions. it has luffy's anger rising, because there was no way he'd let your dreams get made fun of. by anyone.

his thoughts become hazy, his strong feelings taking hold of his actions.

then, luffy hears it. it's like a melody, absolute music to his ears.

your laugh.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his head clears.

he can feel a big smile curling at his lips. his grin is all teeth, his eyes shining with equal parts pride and mischief. it's like a fire has been lit in his soul, like he's a toy that's just been wound up to the max.

even in your current predicament, even when you're utterly terrified, you have faith in yourself. in him.

if you can laugh, then so can he.

finally, he yells out his signature move, launching himself at the enemy and landing a punch so hard that it makes the air itself tremble.

"luffy!" you call with some tears prickling in your eyes, your limbs still shaky from the adrenaline. your smile falters at the edges, relief flooding your body. "you made it!"

your captain comes to life upon seeing your smile up close, his heart beating like a drum. his rubber arms wrap around you and he squeezes you to his chest, his laughter ringing in your ears.

"of course i did!" he grins, grabbing you by the hand and urging you to run with him to the ship. his grip on you is tight and secure. glancing back at you, he can't help but feel grateful to have you with him on this journey.

he snickers, letting emotion run through him without restriction. "you made my heart feel funny!"

zoro

after another victory, the straw hat pirates found themselves reveling in drinks, food and company.

for a while, the swordsman finds himself amidst the other heavy drinkers. he grins and knocks back bottle after bottle, content with listening to the animated conversations around him and observing the party.

eventually though, he craves some solitude. and so, he heads off towards a less occupied area where he can drink in peace.

he basks in isolation, until you manage to find your way to him. a big grin is on your face and he can't help but reciprocate with a small smirk when he notices your inebriated state. unceremoniously, you plop down next to him at a respectable distance.

“hey zo', gimme some!” you nod towards the large bottle he holds, completely immersed in the light, upbeat atmosphere. one of your hands even reaches out, making a sort of grabbing motion.

he possessively tightens his grip on the bottle, his expression hardening slightly as his brows furrowed. "hah? this is mine, go grab your own bottle."

"i don't wanna full drink, jus' need a little more and i'll be good." you answer, well aware of your limits. your tone becomes pleading as you look up at him with puppy dog eyes. "one sip. please?"

with a groan, he relents. he grumbles something about you being lucky that he's in such a good mood, before extending the bottle in your direction.

yet, it appears that you have some more tricks up your sleeve.

instead of grabbing the bottle, you simply tilt your head back and let your mouth hang open. you make an 'ah' sound, waiting for him to bestow you with the gift of alcohol.

he's a little taken aback at first. seriously? you wanted him to pour it for you? ugh, fine...

he rolls his eye and uses his free hand to firmly hold your jaw steady and open, bringing the bottle up and pouring the sake into your mouth.

your hand rests on his, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over his knuckles.

it's all fine at first, until his eyes lock with yours. in that moment, he seems to acknowledge the intimacy of the act, something primal stirring in his gut as he looked down at you. his cheeks redden.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his muscles tense and he goes almost still. he gets so distracted that his hand moves upwards, effectively drowning your face with sake. your head snaps back into its natural position and you start to cough, the alcohol burning your nostrils.

you give the swordsman an incredulous look, wiping the excess sake from your face. “what the hell was that for?”

“you’re the one that moved!” he sharply replies, even though he knows damn well that you were sitting good and still for him.

focusing inward, he seems pleased to feel that his heart is once again thumping steadily. unwavering. what an odd feeling it was, to have his strong heart skip a beat.

i'll deal with that later. he thinks, not at all wanting to open that can of worms.

so, he takes another swig from the bottle and uses one of his large hands to pat you on the back as you continued to cough up sake.

“oi, don’t waste good booze.”

sanji

the cook wasn't used to being spoiled. he's always been a giver, someone who provides and never takes.

he basked in the smiles that formed on the faces of his crew mates, his family, whenever he made them a good meal or protected them. he never asks for anything in return. however, that doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t be shown appreciation every now and then.

currently, he's on night watch.

a thick blanket is wrapped around his shoulders, the cold wind nipping at his cheeks and painting them a reddish color. a cigarette hangs from his lips, his breaths coming out as white puffs against the dark sky.

out of the corner of his eye, he can see light pouring out from the kitchen window. how long has that been on? his brows furrow in suspicion as he makes his way over, half-expecting to see luffy attempting to crack open the pantry.

yet when he opens the door, his posture immediately relaxes and he practically melts as he sees you. you're in your pajamas, hunched over the stove with a focused expression. he takes note of the cookbook laid out on the counter, guiding you as you prepared a dish.

he calls your name, his limbs turning to mush as he approached you. "what are you doing here so late? if you're hungry, i'll make you some-"

his nose twitches as he catches the scent of what you're making.

he knows it well because it happens to be one of his favorite dishes. coincidentally, it was one of your least favorites, the scent of it rather unbearable to you.

"you're... you're making..." his cigarette threatens to tumble out of his lips as he gives you a bewildered expression.

he can see your nose briefly scrunch up before you give him a smile, one of your hands holding a wooden spoon and mixing up ingredients on a pan. "yeah. i hope i'm making it right. i mean, it won't be as good as yours anyway, but still."

"mon amour, you shouldn't. i know how much you can't stand the smell of it." he tries to usher you away, placing a hand on yours and insisting that he didn't want you to be queasy. "why're you making this, mon amour? did someone ask you to?"

you shrug and keep a firm hold on the wooden spoon, replying like the answer was obvious. "because i thought it'd make you happy."

ba-dum! ba-dum!

his cigarette does fall to the floor. the hand that's over yours tightens, perhaps his way of grounding himself. he's speechless for a moment, something shaking him down to his very center.

he could almost cry.

"sanji?" you ask, a little concerned for the chef as his eyes seemed to glaze over.

the blond snaps out of it, giving you a smile that's so warm it makes you wonder if the sun had just come up. there's none of that surface level attraction or lust in his gaze, only an authentic appreciation.

thank you. he thinks, feeling light. thank you for caring.

his eyes close as he once again takes in the scent of the dish you're preparing. "it smells great, mon amour. better than anything i've ever made, i’m sure of it."

"i doubt that." you laugh, downplaying his compliment. with a nod, you resume cooking. "it'll be finished by the time you're done with your watch. i can handle it."

sanji thanks you once more, his heart feeling full. returning to his post, he allows you to do something kind for him. he allows himself to take, without worrying about having to repay you.

he quells any lingering thoughts of insecurity and self-doubt, focusing instead on the meal that's sure to be waiting for him in the morning.

law

it was a couple weeks ago that law made the decision to educate the crew a bit more on medical practices.

the surgeon knew that he couldn’t always be around to provide assistance to the crew, so it was only logical that he trained everyone in basic first aid, including you. day after day, he trained everyone, one at a time.

was it a lot? yes. however, law liked to be prepared and felt comfort in being thorough with his teachings, regardless of how tedious it was.

so, finally it was your day to be trained under his watchful eye.

you could tell how passionate he was about his work, how knowledgeable. if you had any questions or wanted to know more about a topic, he took the time to explain it to you properly.

he was quite patient, something you were thankful for since you knew he could sometimes grow frustrated.

when it's all said and done, he quizzes you. he sits atop the exam table, his expression apathetic.

"i'm a patient suffering from shortness of breath, chest pain and dizziness." he flatly says, watching your every move. "what comes to mind? what do you check first?"

you bite at your lip, your head scrambling to come up with any ideas of what your 'patient' could be suffering from. "arrhythmia?" you answer, uncertain. he gives you a pressing look, urging you to continue. "and i... check your heartbeat?"

"good." with a nod of his head, he gestures towards the stethoscope. "go ahead, then. check it and let's see if you get the reading right."

pushing past your initial hesitance, you grab the stethoscope and put it on, gently holding the bell in your hand. placing it on his clothed chest, your expression turns frustrated as you struggle to hear a beat.

he rolls his eyes and calls your name lightly. "you can't place it over fabric. it needs to go directly on the skin."

oh yeah, you needed to place it directly on his chest.

you click your tongue, embarrassed by your slight error. "yeah, yeah, i got it."

with that, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt.

however, instead of holding up his shirt and and placing the stethoscope directly over his heart, your hand slides upward from his abdomen and all the way to his chest.

your fingers inadvertently graze along his skin, tracing a warm path from his navel to his heart.

you're too focused on your task to notice his widening eyes and how his breath hitches.

a content smile forms on your face when you catch the sound of his heartbeat.

ba-dum! ba-dum!

you look up at him, slightly concerned. “i think there's something weird-"

"you're hearing things." he's quick to say, placing a hand over yours and promptly removing it from his person. standing from the exam table, he adjusts his shirt and takes a step back to put some much needed distance between the two of you. "good job today, you did well."

he turns in the opposite direction, not wanting to let his cracked composure show. steeling himself, he takes a deep breath and shakes off any residual feelings of unease.

it was just a fluke. he's quick to think, wanting to be rational.

in the end, he looks over his shoulder and gives you a nod before heading to his study.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Bad for Me — Cassian x Reader

Hi! I found this in my drafts and thought I’d share it while I’m finishing up the next part of Bluebird. I’m not sure why I never posted it 🤔maybe because I don’t think it’s very well written. Also, it seems I was using a prompt list for parts of dialogue in this, but I can’t for the life of me think which one it was 😅but anyway, enjoy an angsty piece with an angsty cliffhanger ending 💅🏻

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: None.

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“What the fuck is this?”

There wasn’t a part of you that didn’t shake with anger as you stormed your way into the sitting room. Anger that had built up and festered as the day had faded into night.

It was late. You’d waited up — waited for the telltale, arrogantly loud footsteps that had announced Cassian’s return. Where he’d been all day, you didn’t know nor care.

Sure enough, you found him in his usual chair by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey rested on the arm and his eyes closed. His fingers rubbed circles into his forehead — a positive sign that he was sporting a particularly gruelling headache.

Good. You would yell into his ear until he launched himself off one of the verandas and flew far, far away.

“What is this?” You repeated, chucking the item you held straight onto his lap.

His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced down impassively. “That’s a piece of paper. It’s useful for writing, or drawing, or—”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

It had surprised you, to say the least, to wake up to the folded note on your bedside table — in Cassian’s rough scrawl.

Find yourself a pretty little dress. Don’t make any plans for Friday next. We’re going dancing. Cassian.

“Explain.” You demanded, your tone clipped. Brash.

You didn’t want to go dancing with Cassian. Or walking, or running, or…anything.

It was bad enough living under the same roof as him. Working in the same circle as him. Bad enough having to be civil in the name of a unified front.

But you were professional. You could pretend to get along in front of people.

That didn’t mean you had to socialise with him, though.

With a sigh, he sat up straighter, brushing his hair back. “Rhys is having me play courtier again.”

Your head cocked to the side. “But you’re so terrible at it.”

The minuscule pause and tick of his jaw told you you’d landed a sure blow. A nervy spot, for Cassian, was certainly his abilities off the battlefield. Why Rhys insisted on sending the General on certain courtier expeditions was beyond your comprehension. And beyond Cassian’s, too, judging by how much he hated it.

You took no small amount of pleasure in that fact. A little payback for all the ways he’d torn you down over the years.

“Hilarious.” He rolled his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t joking.”

“Whatever. Rhys is having me represent him at a fucking ball in the Hewn City and I need a plus-one, so — you’re coming.”

Your shoulders tensed. “Absolutely not. Ask somebody else.”

“There’s no way I’m putting Mor through that. And she’s in Vallahan, anyway.”

“So take Amren with you.”

“Be real, Y/N.”

You stared at him, clenching your jaw. You hated him. Hated him so, so much — loathed him — that you swore your veins turned to ice around him. Ever since you’d met him, and you’d taken one look at him and thought he was the most beautiful male you’d ever seen. 

You’d sworn never to fall in love again, when you’d joined Rhysand’s Inner Circle — and seeing Cassian go through flings like you went through books only solidified that decision.

Hate was a good thing. Hate was something you could pour all your anger into and throw at the person that seeped into your thoughts a little too often.

And dish that hate out you may, but gods Cassian gave it back just as fiercely.

“Ask one of your many lovers.” You spat. “You have your cock in a different female every week. I can’t imagine you’re short on admirers.”

Cassian stretched his arms over his head. “And how many admirers do you have, Y/N?”

You tried your best not to flinch. To let him see the effect his words had on you was as bad as him thrusting a dagger into your gut. You willed yourself to give nothing away.

“Just find somebody else.” You said. “There’s not a fucking chance I’m going anywhere with you, of all people.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond. You turned on your feet and stalked from the room, leaving the note on his lap and your barbed words hanging heavy in the air.

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Three nights later, your bedroom door burst open so abruptly that you dropped your book on your face.

“Pause your masturbation for five minutes.” Cassian’s deep, arrogant voice filled the room. “I have your dress.”

You sat up, your entire body tensing the way it always did in his presence. “What.”

He kicked the door shut behind him, and even in your considerably-sized bedroom, his domineering figure seemed to take up most of the space. He strode to the foot of your bed — and paused, just for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of your nightgown, your unbound hair.

You didn’t have a chance to remark before he straightened himself out and launched a flash of pale pink fabric at you.

“For the ball.” He said. “I checked your size and asked the shopkeeper to pick it out, so…if you don’t like it, I don’t really give a fuck.”

Your eyes fell down to the dress in your lap. Undeniably pretty, with its rosy hue and flaring skirt, thin straps and tiny, beaded jewels. A dress you would probably choose for yourself, if the occasion called for it.

You’d always loved clothes; dresses in particular. The intricacies of certain garments fascinated you, and the thought of creating your own made your heart skip a beat.

You thought you’d feel pretty in this dress; prettier than you usually felt, in your leathers or shirts and breeches. It wasn’t all that often that you had an occasion to dress up for.

But even this gown wouldn’t convince you to accept Cassian’s invitation. Or, rather, his order.

You pushed the dress away from you, though your fingers lingered within the soft fabric. “You’re absolutely fucking insane if you think I’m going to that ball with you.”

Cassian’s eyes fell to where your hands stroked the skirts, before climbing back up to meet yours. The bastard knew what you were feeling. He fucking knew.

“Oh, you so want to.” He smirked. “I can see it in your eyes.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “So it’s a nice dress. I’m sure one of your many sexual escapades would appreciate it.”

The General’s head tilted, a few strands ripping from the loose knot his hair was tied into. “What is it about my sex life that bothers you so much?”

That you’re free to even have such a sex life without judgement. That you will never know what it’s like to be ostracised just for exploring such things. That you can fuck who you like with no repercussions. That it isn’t me you’re—

“Don’t mistake me for someone who gives a shit about anything you do.” You bit. “I just wouldn’t want such a nice dress to be wasted.”

“It won’t be. Because you’ll be wearing it to the ball on Friday.”

“No.” You threw the dress back at him. Picked your book back up. “I will not.”

“I’m going to hang it on the door.”

“Don’t bother.”

He ignored you, of course. The dress was hung. “We’ll be leaving at seven.”

“No we won’t.”

“We will.”

He pulled your bedroom door open, slipping out.

“Cassian?” You called, and there was a strong pause.

He poked his head back in. “What?”

“I’m not going to that damned ball with you.”

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You were going to that damned ball with him.

High Lord’s orders, your ass. You’d kill Rhys for this.

The dress was a perfect fit, clinging to you like a second skin. And as you stared yourself down in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the fabric, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this pretty.

A long, long time ago. A night of passion. A night that would ultimately ruin your life.

You shook the past from your thoughts, straightening yourself out. It was imperative that you wore an unbreakable mask to the Hewn City. One that was steeled and sharp and revealed nothing of the person that lay beneath.

A thump fell on your bedroom door. “We’re going to be late.” Cassian barked.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from the mirror. The beads of your dress swished as you moved, and you focused on that, rather than the oaf that was currently trying to break into your room.

Just a few hours, and this would all be over.

“Simmer down, General.” You pulled the door open, stepping out. “I’m ready.”

Cassian stepped back. And stopped.

His hazel eyes slowly traced the length of your body. And despite the fact that he’d griped about being late, he took his sweet time drinking you in.

You waited for the snide remarks. For whatever fault he would surely find with your appearance. But when his eyes landed on your face again, you couldn’t puzzle out his expression.

“Good.” Was all he commented. “Let’s go.”

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“Can you quit your fidgeting?”

Cassian scowled beside you, rolling his shoulders. “The collar on this thing is too tight.”

Your eyes travelled the sculpted length of his body — not for the first time — before you forced them away. He looked…undeniably breathtaking.

His comfort, you knew, was in leathers and body armour. Only on rare occasions like Starfall or Solstice did he swap his usual attire for more casual clothing like button-up shirts and trousers. You couldn’t recall a time you’d actually seen him decked in a tailored suit.

Until now.

The material was of deepest burgundy, outlining — accentuating — every last muscle it possibly could. There was something thrilling about the thought of so many deadly weapons hiding within that dashing attire. Something thrilling about knowing the Lord of Bloodshed walked beside you.

Right now, though, he was the fucking Lord of Complaining and Whining. You rolled your eyes, turning to him.

“What are you doing?” He watched as you pushed up onto the tips of your toes.

“Shutting you up.” You adjusted his collar, ignoring the feel of the backs of your fingers brushing his neck. “Better?”

“Suppose so.” He rolled those shoulders again. He wouldn’t be content until the suit was off him completely.

“Then let’s go.” You currently stood outside the towering gates of the Hewn City, the air always unpleasantly cold in these parts. You took a step forward, your dress swishing along the ground—

A warm, rough hand landed on your arm. Stopped you.

“What?” You glanced at Cassian over your shoulder.

“Rhys is expecting us to represent him.” He said, his hazel eyes strangely fierce. He always got that look when there was a task at hand. “I know we hate each other. And that’s more than fine. But just for tonight, can we pretend that we…don’t?”

You stared back at him pensively. A petty part of you wanted to shrug him off and scoff. To tell him that the unpleasantness with which he’d always approached you had long laid any potential alliance to waste.

But he was right — Rhys was counting on you both. And Rhys had done a lot for you since you’d turned up on his doorstep with barely a coin to your name. For him…for him, you would pretend to enjoy Cassian’s company.

“Whatever.” You shrugged the General’s touch off, turning back around. “Fine.”

It wasn’t going to be easy, though.

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You made sure, in your life, that you never had to spend any extended amount of time with Cassian. You tolerated him when you had to, and avoided him the rest of the time.

But you’d been for nights out in the same group, of course. And you’d forgotten how many females tended to flock to his side and fawn over him.

This ball was a sure reminder of that.

You’d barely stepped into the room and grabbed yourselves a drink before groups of females were glancing over and chatting excitedly, shrill giggles floating over to you. It was a mere five minutes before one of them mustered the nerve to ask him to dance, leaving you standing on your own.

It was during that first dance that you decided — you weren’t just going to be civil with Cassian.

You were going to be so sickeningly over the top that he’d have no chance of skulking off with any of those females and leaving you by yourself while he got his cock sucked. Not a chance. If they thought he’d been claimed by another member of Rhys’s Inner Circle, they’d back off; if a little begrudgingly.

So you watched. Waited for that dance to end. Rhys hadn’t given you any specific orders, besides attending on his behalf and keeping an ear out for any gossip. You drank your wine and enjoyed the music, and the second Cassian had an empty space before him, you dipped in before anybody else could.

It seemed to surprise him. He blinked at you, before straightening himself out. “What are you doing?”

“Dancing with you.” You grabbed his hand, fastening it on your waist.

“Rhys never said we had to dance together.”

“You want us to get along, Cassian?” The music began, tugging you into movement. “Then let’s get along.”

With the other couples beginning to dance around you, it left no other option than to follow suit and avoid causing a scene. Cassian’s jaw ticked, but he grabbed for your other hand and began to pull you around the dance floor with him. He was no seasoned dancer, by any means, but he displayed more skill than you’d expected.

Another thing you loved — dancing. Feeling like your feet were floating. Once you started dancing, you wanted to keep going and going into you fell off the world and tumbled into a blissful beyond. Nothing else mattered besides the music, the moves.

“I didn’t know you could dance.” Cassian commented, echoing the thoughts you’d had about him.

You shrugged, not misstepping once. “I was forced to take lessons as a girl.”

“I didn’t know that, either.”

“Why would you know? It’s not as though we like each other.”

He spun you around. Dipped you in his arms. “And why is that?”

Laughable, that he was the one to ask that question. “You tell me. You never tried.”

“Is that how it went?”

“It is.”

He stared at you, expression unreadable. No other words were exchanged as one dance came to its end, and the music flowed into the next piece. But you didn’t need words to carry out your plan.

The second you caught a glimpse of hopeful, waiting females in your periphery, you pulled Cassian closer to you once more, your bodies flush against each other.

You may have felt a teensy bit ridiculous as you slipped your fingers into the strands of his hair and brushed it out of his face.

“I like your hair like this.” The words were heavy on your tongue. Not untrue, but…painful to say out loud.

Cass stared at you. “…thank you.”

But his thanks was lost in your satisfaction as the awaiting female disappeared from the corner of your eye, skulking off to sulk, no doubt. It was an effort not to smirk. Still, you righted yourself and continued with your plan.

You made certain that yours and Cassian’s bodies met in all the right places. Very close. Very dangerous.

Perfect — because there were still hopeful, simpering females watching. Waiting for you to walk away.

“Dance with me again.” Your breathy tone wasn’t entirely for show — nor was the hand you trailed down his arm for emphasis.

But Cassian frowned at you. “What are you up to?”

“Me?” Your eyes glittered. “Nothing at all.”

He kept his gaze on you, following you into your second dance. You could have sworn you saw the slumping of many shoulders as you spun around the floor, Cassian’s hands like a burning brand on your skin.

You weren’t even really paying attention to him, simply following the steps mindlessly, until he spoke again.

“That isn’t how it went.” He said.

Your brow furrowed as you spun around. “What?”

In one swift move, he was pulling you against him, pressing your fronts together. “You said I never tried to know you. I refute that.”

You shrugged. “You treated me with the same contempt as the bastards I ran away from.”

“You treated me like I was dirt beneath your shoe and I didn’t deserve the time of day.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. That simply was not true. He had always been cocky, and arrogant, and difficult. He acted as though mud wouldn’t stick to him, as though he could do what he liked, when he liked.

Suddenly, you didn’t want to be dancing with him anymore. Didn’t want his hands on you, simpering females or no.

He could go to hell.

“I never thought you didn’t deserve the time of day.” You contested tersely. “I—”

“I know.” He interrupted. Spun you around again. “I worked it out eventually.”

“Excuse me?”

“What your problem is.” Another dip.

You didn’t like this conversation — it’s direction. It would be easier to run away, to avoid it.

Easier, but cowardly.

“Pray, tell, General, what do you believe my problem is?” You stared at him.

He leaned down, just as the music faded. Poised his lips at your ear. “Jealousy.” He murmured, the word seeming deafeningly loud. “Sometimes the way you look at me makes me think that perhaps you don’t hate me that much.”

You knew your body stiffened between you. And as he pulled back and smirked, you also knew that he knew he’d won.

Whatever it was that glittered in his eyes was…knowledge. Knowing. An understanding. And that couldn’t mean anything good for you.

“Cassian?”

The two of you looked up upon the intrusion, only realising then that the music had stopped, and the dancing with it. A doe-eyed girl stared at the General with bright, sparkling hope in her eyes.

“I was hoping I might have the next dance.” She said.

You didn’t care anymore. You barely spared either of them a glance as you let go of Cassian and pushed out of his arms.

“He’s all yours.” You said.

And then you went to find some fresh air.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

“I’ll be sure to tell Rhys that you spent the evening skulking around on your own whilst I did all the posturing.”

You glanced at Cassian out of the corner of your eye. You weren’t interested in a verbal sparring match right now. The night air was pleasant on your skin, and you allowed it to cool your face, your neck. Allowed it to wash away the tension permanently coiled within your veins, if only for a few stolen moments.

“Go ahead”, was the only reply you offered.

Eyes pierced into you as you bathed yourself in the moonlight. Even with your own shut, you could sense Cassian watching, waiting. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of anything beyond vague acknowledgement. Not now.

That seemed to fucking torture him.

“What—no smartass response?” He quipped.

“No, Cassian,” you sighed quietly. “No smartass response.”

He paused — seemed genuinely knocked silent for a moment — before he scoffed. “I don’t believe that for a second. Even in silence, I know you’re up to something. That scheming brain of yours—”

“This scheming brain of mine is exhausted.”

As your eyes flew open, you caught the way he faltered, a slight misstep, the barest ruffling of his wings. For all he was the General of War, the Lord of Bloodshed, you’d also observed him to be a profoundly emotional person. And that emotion sometimes won as he fought to hide it.

This emotion…it was ire. Gone was the sharp-edged teasing. He found issue with your words, and his jaw gave a telltale tick.

“What could you possibly be exhausted by?” he scoffed. “You need only turn up looking like a fucking goddess and people respect you. You’re not some lowly, bastard-born brute. You don’t get sneered at simply for breathing—”

“You believe people respect me?”

“Of course they do!”

“You don’t.”

He stumbled — actually stumbled — and it was only that which alerted you to the way he’d been inching towards you. But his steps faltered, and he gaped at you like your revelation was entirely out of pocket. Like you had no reason to feel that.

“You have never respected me.” You held firm on your point, even if your voice was a tad quieter. “I fled a fucking viper’s den and ran to Rhysand’s court, hoping to find a sense of…of belonging. But you…” A soft, rueful chuckle shuddered out of you. “You have made it your mission to ensure that would not be the case.”

Slowly, Cassian’s brow pinched. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to search for the right words. “That…isn’t how it went…”

“It is,” you shrugged. “You said I treated you like dirt — perhaps, unintentionally, I did. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, because I never expected to flee absolute hell and come face-to-face with a male that I immediately wanted.”

There they were — the words out in the open. The truth wedged itself between you like a glaring, unmissable sign. You had never hated Cassian. Quite the opposite.

“I thought that I would never want another male in that way again.” You revealed hoarsely. “I thought I would live a life content with just…being me. With friends and nothing more. But that first day I met you, I walked in and I…I knew. I felt it.”

Cassian blinked, slowly shaking his head. “What…”

“And then you were so hostile, and I thought that maybe that was a good thing. That it would discourage me from feeling things. But I must be a fucking glutton for punishment, because no matter how cold you were towards me, my feelings only grew. And I tried…I tried so hard to shift them into hate, but I couldn’t. I’ve never been able to. I simply…can’t.”

The way he stared at you…so hardened, so severe…you couldn’t get a read on the reaction. But then…had you ever really been able to get a read on him?

“You were right…what you said about me being jealous,” you swallowed. “I was. I am—”

“That was…just a joke…I was just being a dick—”

“No,” you shook your head. “You were right. I was jealous in there, and I’m always jealous when people flirt with you. When I see you smile at them and joke with them and I shouldn’t wish it was me but I do. These feelings are constant. And that, Cassian…that is why I am exhausted. It’s exhausting for me to know you.”

Silence.

It should have been a relief, to have finally shifted such heavy feelings from your shoulders. But they were like tangible beings, fogging the air around you, wrapping you and Cassian up in a situation that was complicated and ugly and not at all ideal.

You knew he would do nothing with your feelings…except maybe sneer at them, laugh at them, throw them back in your face. You expected nothing from him. And the longer the silence went on, the more you began to wish that you could steal your confessions back. Shove them deep back into that narrow part of your heart that was still capable, somehow, of feeling such things.

You cleared your throat, tweaking the pretty, delicate gloves that covered your hands and forearms. “We should…head back inside.”

You breezed past him, suddenly desperate for the mindless chaos of the throne room. But you’d only managed a few steps forward before Cassian was gripping onto your arm and yanking you back.

Your dress fanned out as he spun you around, and a breath pushed out of you as he slammed you against the nearest wall, the cold brick biting into the fabric of your dress.

Before you could say anything, he was dipping down, his mouth sliding over yours.

Cassian kissed you deeply, punishingly, his lips moulding to yours perfectly. You gasped against him, and his tongue slid into your mouth to dance with yours, his rough, rugged taste invading you.

You’d thought about this moment a ludicrous amount. You’d imagined what the weight of his lips might be like, how perfectly his tongue might duel with yours. Nothing — no amount of imagining — could prepare you for the reality. The sense of rightness as his hand coasted up to clasp the back of your head, his fingers sinking into your hair. He gave a gentle tug, and you moaned in immediate response.

Air, it seemed, was not important. Not as you kissed him back feverishly, gripping at his shirt in an attempt to pull him as close against you as he could possibly get. The press of his hard body against yours was pleasure in itself. You nipped his lip, desperate for more, more, more, and he groaned in response.

This — this could very well spiral out of control, and you would welcome it. You wanted him to tear your clothes off and take you against this wall. You wanted him to make you feel like he wanted you, like it wasn’t exhausting to know him—

But there was suddenly emptiness and coldness. And it took your mind a moment to catch up and realise that he had pulled away.

Not far. Just enough to stare down at you, his deep hazel eyes flaring and furious. His panting breaths sawed out of him, landing directly on your lips and making you desperate for another taste. You tilted your head up—

He shook his head. Stepped back.

“No,” he murmured, voice gruff. “No. You…you are very bad for me.”

Your entire body turned cold at the words. Words that sliced at you, reminiscent of ones you’d heard before. “What?”

“You’re bad for me,” he repeated. “And I am very bad for you.”

“Cassian—”

“Don’t—don’t even say my name.”

With a swiftness that sent a gust of wind rustling the skirts of your dress, he turned, wings flaring and launching him into the star-speckled sky above you. You gaped at his retreating figure, flying off into the night, leaving you alone not only in that courtyard, but in the fucking Court of Nightmares.

Your mouth had turned dry, your skin cold. You lingered out there long after Cassian had flown off, waiting to see if he would come back. Pathetically hoping he would.

He did not.

And as you conceded, slipping your courtier mask back into place and turning to retreat back inside, his words rang like a deafening klaxon in your head.

You are very bad for me.

[coco-loco-nut]

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

----------------

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

[wisteriaiswriting]

Could you do the spiderverse characters reaction to meeting Male Reader who's banned from the spider society but keeps breaking in and his also a combination of Spider-Man and Deadpool

Caught Breaking and Entering , Again

Words: 821

Due to his current… situation, he doesn’t have the chance to see what you’re doing.

When he first met you though, he was so surprised and honestly kind of appalled when he was first told about you.

He wishes that he was brave enough to keep going against Miguel like you do and keep returning, but will leave that to you.

***

“So uh, what’s up with him?”

“Who are you talking about?”

Without answering Miles pointed up, Gwen followed his finger to find someone had pulled off a panel, and was now putting it back while sticking onto the ceiling.

“Not again…”

“He’s done this before?”

“Yeah, keeps getting kicked out but comes back.”

“Why?”

“That’s not something you need to know Miles.”

She really tries not to get involved with you whenever you break in.

Will distract you by any means, mainly has you two leave and head to her dimension.

Tries her best to keep you away from the other spider people, especially Miguel.

***

“Y/N!”

She only had seconds to hide you somewhere, shoving you behind some boxes laying around. Sweating when she saw Miguel stalking down the hallway, pausing right in front of her.

“Gwen, I saw him and you wi–”

“MIGUEL!”

Cringing away from LY.L.A who popped up right beside him, momentarily stealing his attention.

“Oh, you’re busy?”

“Yes…”

“Well too bad, there's a loose villain running around somewhere.” Typing away at her screen before pulling up the camera, “There he is.”

“Fine,” Now turning back to Gwen, “But I better not see him around here again.”

When he left you finally walked out from the boxes.

“Well, that was close.”

“You idiot.”

He is in love at first sight. (Which was Miguel yelling at you and trying to get you to leave, which he was failing at.)

Whenever he asks what you did you give him a different answer each time, and no one else dares to say anything.

If you can’t ever get in or just need his help just call, is 100% down every time.

***

“So what did you actually do? Take his mask? Break something?”

“Again? You didn’t believe me last time?”

“Mate, you told me that you were too good and he felt threatened, does that sound believable?”

“Yes! Except for the last part, Miguel would never admit that.”

Tries her best to control your habit of breaking in, it’s only decreased slightly.

She’s stern enough to have you not get in any more trouble.

Manages to keep Miguel away from you most times, but from time to time let’s you two sort it out on your own.

***

“Y/N.”

She watched as you entered the building, the spot which was luckily out of the view of any cameras. Pausing when you heard, then saw her waiting.

“Oh, Jess, hey!”

Fixing the entry point quickly before dropping down, causing her to panic. Rushing over when you landed safely.

“Don’t you do that again!”

She enables you to a certain degree.

Will (playfully) blackmail you, and how she could reveal your entry spots.

Although she is very adamant on not destroying anything. (If it’s unimportant and no one will notice then sure.)

***

“C’mon Y/N!”

“Absolutely not, do you really think I’d go that low?”

“Well, only if there was something at stake~”

Watching your mask move, so she could only assume that you were glaring at her.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would.”

Huffing at her words.

“Fine then.”

Absolutely despises you.

Hes now on constant surveillance due to the fact you keep breaking in [still unsure how you keep doing it]

He’s so close to strangling you at this point, he’s so done with you.

***

He was so focused on his work, Miguel managed to miss the sound of someone entering and swinging up to the platform.

“Ay, Miggy!”

In an instant, he had turned around, launched himself at you but missed due to you hanging off by your web.

“Calm down bud, I’m just here to talk!”

But he didn’t. This is the fourth time today that you’ve returned, and he’s just done with you.

He would really like for you to stop doing this. (So touched if you ever did it to see him, but still.)

Would prefer to not have to fix and bandage your wounds after Miguel had to throw you out again, injuring you once again.

If you have nowhere to go or would like to stay with him, he’ll let you.

***

“प्यार, what have you done this time?” Letting you sit while he searched for anything that could help, quickly returning once he did. “Did you bother Miguel again?”

“NO! How could you ever think that lowly of me!”

He laughs at your antics, slapping a hand over your mouth to shut you up. When you finally did he started tending to your wounds.

[rae-writes]

the floor is lava!

om boys x reader

*all of these are optional romantic/platonic, except for Luke (obviously)*

wc : 0.9k

a/n : a fun little surprise post <3 I might make this into a little mini series- 

bsd ver. |

It was unusually quiet in the Devildom, considering there was rarely a time without some type of disturbance…

And sure enough, just when it seemed like it could finally be a normal day— 

“THE FLOOR IS LAVA!”

House of Lamentation 

Lucifer lets out the biggest sigh possible, poking his head out of the study to deadpan at his scrambling brothers. Despite thinking this is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard of, he doesn’t so much as blink when you barrel past him to jump onto his desk (and even lets you rest your legs in his lap as he continues working, faintly smiling when you mention he has ‘lava resistance’ so it’s okay his feet are on the floor) 

Contrary to what many might think, it was not Mammon who shouted it— even so, he’s sprinting his way from the entrance hall (where he’d just arrived back home) all the way to the common room to dive onto the armchair you’re occupying. The second born is curled in your lap the entire time and might even fall asleep before the game is called off 

And poor, poor Levi, in the middle of gaming but not willing to lose to this ‘stupid normie game’, drops his switch and lunges at you; it was a 50/50 chance on if you could hold him up at the sudden weight or if you’d both fall and die, but he was gonna take it (and it meant he could be in your arms) 

Surprise, surprise, it was Satan who started this chaos. He’d already been comfy and situated on the library couch, happily letting you climb on top of him when you came running in. Watching everyone flail about and run around cursing was simply too good to pass up (and for the first time, it’s also Satan who’s recording everything) 

Asmo has a bone to pick with whoever shouted this nonsense— he was in the middle of doing his nails! He’ll spew complaints as he clamors onto the table, though he’s quick to shut up once you throw yourself down right beside him. He has been wanting to do your nails too lately 

Meanwhile, Beel was too busy chowing down in the kitchen to even hear his brother and remained oblivious until you came sliding around the corner and launching yourself in his arms. He grins at your breathless ‘hi’ and obliges when you suggest he hop up on the kitchen counter to avoid the lava 

Asleep on his bed, Belphie both didn’t hear and was safe either way, and would’ve remained that way until he was woken by your screaming. He groggily gets up to see Mammon trying to drag you down onto the floor with him. It was funny the way Belphie sleepily snatched you up and walked right back in his room, slamming the door for good measure— his bed is the safest place, in his opinion 

Demon King’s Castle

You bet it was Diavolo who shouted it- courtesy of Levi telling him the HoL incident- and was also the one seen sprinting through countless halls with you thrown over his shoulder, slipping around the corners (he’d taken his shoes off for fast sock travel) before he touched base in his office chair. He doesn’t think he’s had that much fun with a game in his life- and he gets you all to himself! 

Simply shaking his head at Lord Diavolo’s antics, Barbatos continues with making the tea and pastries, raising a brow when you bust through the kitchen door frantically. Instead of letting you climb on the counters, he lifts you up with his tail and brings you in close, casually asking your opinion on the frosting (best. taste test. ever.) 

Mephisto was dumbfounded at the sheer childlike attitude of his lord, watching him take off sprinting with an agape mouth. His attention is quickly divided when you slip into his lap, listening to you rant about how you were so not prepared for this in the slightest. He doesn’t shove you off, to your delight— in fact, he just pulls you tighter against him so you’re further away from the ‘lava’ (this was a once in a lifetime opportunity- he was not wasting it just because the game was dumb) 

Purgatory Hall

Despite being human himself, Solomon had never heard of the game and decided to just let you tug him up on his spell table. He blushes faintly at the close proximity, nodding absentmindedly as you explain the rules; he doesn’t care much for it, but if it allows him to be close to you, he’d play it everyday if you wanted 

Oh yeah, Luke screamed it— he thought it looked so fun when you showed him a video and had to do it with the others. He’s laughing and hollering on your back as you run past the other confused angels, cheering when you both scramble onto the dining table. He’s definitely doing this again (but maybe with the demons, who will certainly give a better reaction) 

Simeon had absolutely no idea what was going on— only that you and Luke were zooming through the house and climbing onto things that should not be climbed. Before he could scold either of you, you’d hopped right over the back of the couch and ended up sprawled over his lap. He can’t bring himself to say anything other than ‘hi’ and smile at your silliness

If Simeon didn’t know what was going on, Raphael sure as hell doesn’t— “the floor isn’t…lava..?” It’s hilarious. He’s so confused, even after Luke hurriedly explains the game. He stands in place the entire time, watching, until you jump at him- and luckily his reflexes have him catching you easily. He still doesn’t know how to feel even then but he won’t put you down until you ask (please ignore the flush of his cheeks)

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/n; Hi little doves, how are you?! I've missed you so much and here i am. Let me know what you think of this chapter. xxx

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (let me know if i forgot to tag you)

Warnings; Baron being a pedo, he is a pedo in the books and i wanted to keep it that way. Little bit of NSFW!

Words; 4.708K

Chapter Seven ''The Wedding''

Y/N Atreides found herself laying flat back on his bed, alone. After their small exchange of comfort Feyd Rautha didn’t say anything but left her to sleep in the living room section. Y/N changed, got ready and she noticed she was stumbling in the bed chambers, walking around, brushing her hair slowly but why? After some time she huffed in annoyance trying to get rid of what happened today from start to finish. She had bigger problems such as her wedding in two days. She turned on her side, curled up into a fetus position and closed her weary eyes.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was sweating under the Black sun of Giedi Prime, he had his morning training with his coach, an ex commander from Salusa Secundus, at his prime he used to crush men’s skulls with his bare hands, now he was an old man and transferring his skills to younger generations. Baron himself bought this man to guide Feyd in combat.

A strong hit came to his cheek, ‘’You seem distracted, Na-Baron.’’ Feyd heard the man’s rough voice, indeed he was distracted. ‘’Is it because of the stupid fight you had with your brother or.. something else?’’ the old man attacked again but Feyd was able to block it. ‘’I’m fine.’’ He growled in distress, sweating under the hot sun, ‘’Then prove it.’’ The man was skilled at getting under his skin too. Feyd launched at the man, he was screaming. The sun was boiling him like an egg, he had pent up rage within him and he unleashed the beast. The old man’s face turned into Rabban’s in his twisted mind and Feyd attacked religiously. At the end of the training the old man was on the floor with a bleeding face and he was laughing, ‘’Well done boy,’’ he was out of breath, ‘’Bring that to the upcoming battles at the arena for your wedding.’’

Harkonnen custom was to fight on your wedding day to prove to your wife that you can protect her and defend her no matter what. With the old man’s words Feyd’s mind altered a vision, a dream, last night he had a taste of fighting for someone, someone he is going to share his life with and he liked it. The animalistic instincts in him were triggered since that night and when they shared that soft moment between them last night he internally promised to himself that he is going to protect his wife no matter the outcome is.

He left the training grounds, his routine was to go to the baths to shower and relax, his legs were taking him there but his mind was too occupied to notice his surroundings, he marched to the bath chambers and closed the door behind him, ‘’Hello nephew.’’ Came the Baron’s voice, Feyd composed himself in a second. His uncle was in the stone bathtub, smoking, Feyd could see his ugly form.

‘’Hello uncle.’’ He said with a flat tone, and he walked to the bathtub, he wanted to be alone but he couldn’t leave now, his uncle would get suspicious. ‘’Seeing your disposition your training was successful.’’ He motioned to Feyd’s sweaty and muscular chest, ‘’Yes uncle. It was successful.’’ He repeated his uncle. ‘’Get in the tub. You deserve to relax now, perhaps take a servant to your room eh?’’ he laughed with his raspy voice, Feyd had to laugh with him, he took off his pants under his uncle’s curious eyes and got into the tub. Feyd leaned his back on the stone and closed his eyes, arms spread wide on the stone, ‘’Rumor has it that you haven’t visited any of your ‘’darlings’’ are they entertaining you anymore?’’ his uncle asked, Feyd knew that whenever Baron opened his mouth to speak he had a motive, his words hid something underneath, ‘’I have been busy recently.’’ He replied, his eyes closed, ‘’How does your wife-to-be take the news of your darling, is she jealous?’’

Feyd didn’t think to bother Y/N with this detail but if his uncle is mentioning it, it meant that she would be hearing it soon, ‘’I do not care what she thinks, as long as she does her duty then I shall be content.’’ He opened his azure eyes to face his uncle and caught him staring at his chest, ‘’Good boy. I expect great things from you Feyd and you have never failed me. Keep up the good work son.’’

Tomorrow was their wedding day and Y/N was occupied heavily, seamstress and other servants kept coming and going to her, getting measurements, talking about the design and the color scheme and the guests… ‘’Of course you must be ready to greet the Na-Baron after he wins the battle in your name..’’

‘’I do apologies but,’’ Y/N turned to face the servant girl, ‘’What battle?’’

Servants looked at each other before one of them bowed her head and spoke, ‘’In order to prove himself that he is the protector and provider.. Na-Baron will fight in the arena, for you.’’

Y/N never asked for a battle, whenever she runs from blood the blood follows her, she never asked to watch prisoners die before her eyes and the fact that  it would be on her wedding day.. she calmed herself with a Bene Gesserit trick. ‘’Thank you for the information.’’ She smiled kindly and continued with her day.

With a huff she walked into the living room, her skirts swirling, she shut the door and leaned her forehead on the cool metal, yes, the doors were metal.. like a prison.

‘’Long day I assume?’’ a raspy voice startled her, she turned to face the owner of that voice that haunts her dreams. He was sitting on the dining table’s chair, the table was set, candles lit, he leaned his back on the chair, his shirt looking tight on his chest. He gestured to the empty chair at the opposite top of the table, ‘’Sit.’’ She didn’t say anything, this was the first encounter after their soft ending of yesterday night, his face looked better, perhaps his doctor gave him medicine to make his wounds heal quicker.

She sat. The meat on the table smelled delicious and her mouth started watering, ‘’Please,’’ he gestured again to the table, ‘’eat. I bet you didn’t eat much today.’’

‘’I was busy.’’ She said and started her dinner, ‘’I figured.’’ He said in short, she was surprised that he wasn’t tormenting her. ‘’Are you-‘’ she began but stopped when she caught his complete attention.

He looked puzzled when she stopped herself, ‘’Please, continue.’’ She heard him say please two times in few minutes, was the galaxy dying? Was it Doomsday?

She kept her hands busy with cutting the meat, ‘’You seem tired.’’ She said with a flat tone, the meat she was dealing with looked more interesting than Feyd’s surprised face, if only she looked up to meet his azure gaze.

‘’Is someone worried about her husband?’’ his mocking tone came back, ‘’You are not my husband.’’ It was her generic response. ‘’Aren’t you tired little dove, tomorrow is our wedding day after all.’’ He drank his wine, enjoying cornering her, ‘’I cannot wait to become a widow.’’ She snapped back and earned his laughter, he enjoyed this banter dearly, ‘’Finish your dinner, I want to take you somewhere.’’

Y/N panicked for a second, ‘’Where?’’ she asked immediately, ‘’It’s a surprise.’’  He whispered jokingly.

It was late at night, full moon casting mysterious shadow, it wasn’t cold and yet she could feel her hands go ice, maybe it was because of unknown intentions of Feyd or maybe she felt the slight breeze. Feyd and Y/N were walking side by side, their shoes made echoes in the corridors, halls, guards were present at certain doors and they had their night shifts but they were so silent and blend in with the black walls Y/N felt as if her and Feyd were the only residence of the fortress. His hands were behind his back, ‘’Where are we going?’’ she couldn’t help her curiosity. Feyd stopped in his tracks, turned his face to the side, Y/N took a step back, ‘’Curiosity killed the cat.’’ He said mockingly but she could sense the irritation underneath so she didn’t reply and kept following him.

Feyd-Rautha had been planning and organizing this since Y/N first stepped foot on Giedi Prime, it was hard work but he managed to pull it off and he did it under the radar, he made some excuses for it so that his uncle wouldn’t search for a deeper meaning.

Together they walked out of the fortress to the barren courtyard, Giedi Prime’s courtyard was nothing but stone, few marble status and that’s it. Y/N noticed how quiet it was, guards were scarce and it was late, she was getting more suspicious with each passing second. The stars were bright, almost like glowglobs hanging in the sky to show them the path.

Feyd now was making her walk through shadows, and they reached to a glass door, he stepped away and extended his hand to the door, ‘’Would you like to do the honors?’’ he said and waited for her to open the glass door. It was dark and all she saw was the handle of the door, she opened the door and walked in. For a second the darkness continued until Feyd also walked inside and hit the switch for the glowglobes inside and Y/N had to close her eyes, it was too bright all of a sudden and when she opened her eyes she could feel her mouth open with shock.

They were inside of a garden filled with flowers and small trees from Caladan and Kaitain, the fresh smell hit her nostrils in a pleasing way, she had dreams where she walked in the gardens of Kaitain and her dream now came true, she slowly walked among the plants, flowers, there was a fountain in the middle of the garden, it was white marble and had fishes in it, everything inside made her peaceful.

‘’I didn’t know this place existed.’’ She said smelling a red rose, ‘’It didn’t.’’

Y/N turned to him, looking puzzled, ‘’I have arranged this,’’ he began, coming closer to her, he came to a stop in front of her, ‘’for you.’’ He confessed, his head low, suddenly the soil ground looked more interesting to him than her pretty eyes. Maybe he didn’t want to find any confrontation or rejection.

Y/N had no idea what to say or even react to his kind gesture, her Bene Gesserit mind immediately looked for any strategy or profit, why would he do something like this if he has no gain from it? However, a dark corner in her mind whispered to her that he did this for her comfort and to see her happy and content, she had been going through a lot especially with the rude comments of  Rabban…

He dared to see her reaction with his yearning blue orbits, her face soften when she saw his expression, he looked like a lost little boy, the boy she had met years ago.

‘’Feyd I-‘’ she began but failed to express how grateful she was, be that as it may, her hands went to his pale face, caressing gently, Feyd’s touched starved soul leaned in to her touch, of course he had been touched many times he was yearning for this kind of touch; soft, gentle and nurturing.

Y/N smiled, ear to ear, ‘’Even though we aren’t in good terms most of the time… this means a lot to me.’’ She finally said. ‘’Thank you Feyd.’’

Feyd started to take slow steps towards her, ‘’Say it again.’’ He begged, she could feel his hot breath on her face, she had to take steps back because of his movements towards her and she felt herself cornered between him and a tree, ‘’Feyd..’’ her hand still on his face, ‘’Again.’’ He demanded, his voice getting raspier and lower, his breathing getting quicker, ‘’Feyd-Rautha..’’ she whispered with her soft voice, so soft it made his insides melt, he was so close he could smell her fresh and sweet scent, her hair thick and long, his hand went to touch it. He was mesmerized every time, the texture of her hair was so soft it made him feel like he was touching pure silk.

Y/N lowered her hands and let him touch her hair, when he started to massage her scalp gently she closed her eyes, a soft moan leaving her shiny lips, Feyd smirked in victory. She was wearing a baby blue gown, fabric tight around her body and making her curves look dominant, he could see the cleavage of her chest, his mouth was watering but he had to keep himself for he promised to himself that she had to come to him, willingly. When he stopped massaging her scalp she opened her eyes in protest, fire in her eyes, ‘’The garden isn’t the only thing I want to give you.’’ He said and his hand went to his pocket, he showed her a golden ring with obsidian stone, ‘’It was my mother’s, now it’s yours.’’ And he took her left hand to place the ring, Y/N mind went to the knowledge she had of his parents’, was it a good time to ask? She decided that it wasn’t time or the place for that conversation but Feyd sensed her trouble, ‘’You don’t like the ring?’’ he asked with defense in his tone, ‘’No, no. I love it. I just.. I don’t have anything to give you.’’ Feyd chuckled, his hand went to caress her cheek, ‘’You are giving your hand in marriage to me. That is more than enough.’’ She was relieved, ‘’Although,’’ he began with a cunning smile, his eyes shining like a predator on a hunt, Y/N raised her eyebrows in question, ‘’a kiss would suffice.’’

Y/N wasn’t shocked to see his boldness, but why now? Her mind was racing like a race horse, she was comparing pros and cons, over the days he was getting more and more nice but there were things he did in the past such as beheading a servant because she refused to dine with him, but he defend her against Rabban who is his flesh and blood. And now they were standing in the garden he had built for her…

Y/N’s hands went to his face again and she kissed his plump lips, his lips felt so welcoming that she kept kissing him but her intention was to just give him a quick kiss. Feyd wrapped his arms around her to pull her extremely close. Wet sounds and soft moans leaving their enchanted mouths, she was water he was thirsting over, and he was the darkness she ran into. She could feel his stone of a body pressing her against the tree, his body felt so firm she wanted to touch him but in this position she let him use her mouth, he was getting more and more eager, Y/N pulled back when she needed breath and together they chuckled. ‘’Let’s go. We have a big day tomorrow.’’ Feyd extended his hand and together they left, till they reach to their chambers neither of them spoke or let go of each others’ hand.

(for some reason i listened to this when i was writing the Baron's part lol)

‘’My Baron-‘’ Baron Vladimir Harkonnen’s spy ran to his chambers, Baron was getting ready to sleep, his room was extra dark, ‘’How dare you disturb me at this ungodly hour? You better have something worthy to say.’’ Baron was furious, he never liked being disturbed, especially when there was a servant boy laying under his sheets, the spy’s eyes gazed upon the sleeping boy… he looked immobile and the spy understood the situation. ‘’Na-Baron and his wife to be, they have been spotted hand in hand leaving the garden Na-Baron had built for her.’’ He explained what he saw in details. Baron didn’t say anything and dismissed the spy with the promise of gold and the spy left smiling.

Baron Vladimir poured himself a drink, he loved to drink after he used one of the boys, he was in his device which made him float in the air, he moved to his window overlooking his city, ‘’So, you choose her over me..’’ he was talking to himself, his icy cold eyes focused on a distant building, he could feel the rage in him building but years made him act in a more strategic way, he learned how to manipulate his rage into the right path, he only agreed to take the Atreides girl as a pawn, to use her name and family to his ways. It seemed like the girl had her own plans, ‘’Not for long..’’ he said and finished his drink, his hand was shaking rapidly so he exhaled his breath.  He smashed the glass against the floor which made the boy in his sleep startle and wake up in terror, Baron turned to the boy, his eyes made the boy cover himself in fear, ‘’Please Baron,’’ the boy begged, he was moving towards the boy, ‘’No more, please..’’

And that night, as usual, the guards at Baron’s door heard the painful screams of the boy.

Y/N started her day earlier than usual, it was her wedding day. She was happy because she was going to see her family but she was also dreading the day. After having a small breakfast they made her wear a black velvet gown, the dress covered her body entirely, only her hands and face could be seen, it was the custom so she said nothing. Before the wedding she had to watch Feyd fight for her so she was guided to the seating areas of the arena, the guests and Y/N were going to witness the fights behind glass, their seats were high, the pit was under them so she had to use a device to see the fight like others. She greeted the guests, Minor and Major houses were there, their wedding was the talk of the ton, everyone was talking about how Feyd-Rautha demanded her and got her, how brave he was… no one asked her how she was, no one wondered how she was surviving in a place like this, among the monsters.

‘’Y/N..’’ she heard her mother’s voice, ‘’Mother!’’ she turned excitedly to see her and her smile turned into a frown when she saw her mother with that woman, Reverend Mother Helen Mohiam. ‘’The Reverend Mother wishes to speak to you… alone.’’ Her mother announced with her formal tone, ‘’I would love to talk to her alone.’’ Y/N said with an icy bite. Together they moved to a small room, Jessica closed the door for them to speak.

‘’You have been handful, get your mind organized or you will lose everything.’’ Reverend Mother began, ‘’I was brought here against my will!’’ Y/N protested,  ‘’Silence!’’ Helen used the Voice on her and made her stop talking, ‘’You listen carefully, this arrangement had been in the progress since before you and Na-Baron were born. You are a woman, you are superior than him, use your mind to manipulate him and you shall live or..’’ Helen noticed the change in the girls eyes, ‘’You are very pretty,’’ her voice softened like a mother, ‘’however that isn’t enough for you to survive. Baron Vladimir is a dangerous and jealous man. He has spies everywhere, don’t talk to anyone about anything. Watch your back all the time and convince him.. convince Feyd to get rid of his uncle. Or he shall be the end of you and your children.’’ With that Reverend Mother left the small room, Y/N knew how dangerous the Harkonnens were, especially Baron but if Reverend Mother herself was warning her directly then it meant Baron had made his moves already. As soon as she become Feyd’s wife she was going to be thrown into the battle so she had to be ready and she had to manipulate Feyd to get rid of his uncle one way or another.

The black sun of Giedi Prime made the arena look bright white, the spectators were cheering to see their Na-Baron, before the doors opened a male voice announced the importance of today and screamed his name, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. The doors were opened and prisoners, slaves entered, Feyd entered from a different door in the middle.  He had his two blades and the shield device to protect him. He greeted everyone and waved at her, she only bowed.  She was uneasy, never liked to watch battles, the fireworks were the color of black because of the sun, she hated the sun of Giedi Prime, it’s light made everything look black and white. One of Y/N’s maids whispered in her ear, ‘’My lady, the prisoners your husband-to-be is ought to fight are drugged before the event. See that one, he is limping as he is walking.’’ Y/N turned to the maid, ‘’So it isn’t a fair fight.’’ She cursed herself for saying that, ‘’It is the custom. Baron cannot risk his one and only heir’s life.’’ She noticed the maid’s eyes following a young man, ‘’Oh no, that slave isn’t drugged.’’ And she turned to see the man. The maid was right, others were limping but he wasn’t, he was walking straight.

Y/N watched the entire fight with her heart at her throat, his death meant her demise, he had killed the drugged ones but the last one was a problem, he was a skilled fighter just like Feyd. There were men covered in black  at the corners of the arena just in case. When he killed the man Y/N found herself cheering for her husband-to-be, she was clapping and smiling, she was relieved that he was unharmed.

‘’My lady, it is your turn.’’ Her maid announced, ‘’My what?’’ she started to get looks from the guests and servants and her maid whispered again, ‘’You have to get down to the arena and kiss Na-Baron’s blade. It means you are satisfied with his efforts and you shall have him.’’ No one told her about this, when the maid saw that Y/N wasn’t moving she gently held her arm, ‘’Follow me my lady.’’

Feyd was waving at his people who were cheering for his victory, he loved the attention he got. He intentionally didn’t mention this tradition to her to see the irritation and shock on her face. The door was opened for her to enter, she was startled when she heard screams and cheers for her, she slowly walked towards him, it was way more hotter here,  the sun burnt her eyes, she was uneasy with the attention she got.

She bowed respectfully, ‘’My Na-Baron.’’ She had to follow the traditions if she wanted to survive.

Feyd bowed in return, ‘’My Lady.’’ And he extended the blade he had killed his enemies, Y/N looked up to meet his gaze, ‘’Kiss it.’’ He ordered, there was a strange light in his eyes, his chest was heaving and his hands and clothes were bloody, she could feel her stomach twist but she had to. Y/N gently kissed the metal of the blade, her lips covered in his enemies’ blood. Feyd lowered the blade and with another hand he grabbed her neck and pulled her for an animalistic kiss. Y/N was startled, she didn’t expect him to kiss her like that in front of thousands.  He let go after the heated kiss and whispered,

‘’See you at the altar.’’

Later she was taken to her chambers to wear the wedding gown, when she saw the completed version of the gown on the tall mirror she couldn’t believe her eyes. The fabric felt smooth like liquid, the color was silver white, with grey strands of fabrics, she was flowing like a fairy,

(this is the gown, i've found it on IG the account's handle is @etheralsoftwear.ai )

she expected a hair style but the maid said something which left her speechless, ‘’Na-Baron has requested for your hair to be loose.’’ She touched the strand of her hair, where he touched…

‘’You are ready my Lady.’’ His personal maid said and they opened the door for Leto Atreides to walk in. She didn’t see him among the guest and thought he didn’t come. ‘’Dad!’’ she jumped into his arms, ‘’Hello love.’’ He kissed her forehead, ‘’Look at my little duchess, you look amazing.’’ Even though she was mean to him and also heartbroken because of the fact that she was here she really missed him.

He extended his arm, ‘’Shall we?’’ Leto looked handsome in his black and green suit, his medals shining with the glowglobes’ lights.

The wedding ceremony was at the grand hall of the fortress where the Harkonnes held important events. The hall was decorated in black and white, flowers were white, symbolizing purity and innocence, guests were seated at their tables talking among themselves, when Leto and his daughter entered all conversations ended, she could see the looks they got, admiring her dress and beauty, she had always noticed the people watching her, observing her in detail.

Feyd was waiting at the black altar, in his black ceremonial clothing, he had his boots, made him look more tall and menacing, his hands clasped in front of him, he had his silver ring on his small finger, she came up with an idea of getting him a wedding ring maybe just like the one she has but in silver..

His face was as if made of marble, Y/N noticed how stiff he got among crowed but when he spotted her she noticed the small smile and the shine in his azure eyes.

Leto walked her daughter and left to take his seat remembering the conversation he had with Feyd earlier today;

‘’Duke Leto,’’ he called for him, ‘’May we speak in private?’’ it was before the arena.

‘’Yes, we may.’’ And Feyd took him to his study. ‘’Do not have any fear for your daughter’s future for I am her provider and protector starting today. She will be taken care of the way she wishes. Not a strand of her hair will be harmed. You have my word.’’ And he bowed respectfully.

Leto looked at him different than the day his daughter was taken. Today he was going to be his son-in-law, the father of his future grandchildren, ‘’If you need anything,’’ Leto began, ‘’I will be there for you, son.’’ And he hugged Feyd. Feyd wasn’t used to getting hugs or sentimental things from his family members so he was startled at first but he hugged Leto back.

At last she was standing in front of him, holding a small bouquet of white tulips, officiant of the wedding was the Reverend Mother herself. Y/N guessed that the Mother wanted to see this through.

‘’We are gathered here today to join two houses, Harkonnens and Atreides in holy matrimony,’’ Reverend Mother began, there was no sound in the room other than her strong one. Y/N glanced at the guests, they were so elegant and chic but she knew the lies laid underneath and she saw him with his family… Pyramus…

His brown eyes found hers, his clothing looked richer than usual, he was wearing colorful rings and necklace, he looked like an important man now but to her.. he was nothing.

Feyd noticed the small exchange while Reverend Mother was giving her speech, he was the one who personally sent a letter to invite the low life and watch Y/N ‘s reaction, a reaction that he completely misread. He didn’t like what he saw.

‘’I announce you, husband and wife.’’ The old lady finished and the ton cheered, smiling and yet Feyd wasn’t smiling. He looked at Pyramus, captured his gaze and leaned to kiss Y/N. The kiss was more passionate than earlier, Feyd’s soft lips encapsulated hers, his hands went to her waist to pull her close, she could hear the cheers, screams, the ton was having fun. She didn’t want to make a scene but her hand gently pressed on his chest, signaling for him to stop, he pulled back looking offended. Later he held her hand walked to their table.

‘’Let the feast began!’’ Baron Vladimir announced and the servants started to bring the food.

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[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 11

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

A/N: please forgive me for taking so long to post the next part, I took a little holiday and inspiration seemed to take a break from me 🤭 but here it is, yes I know it was slow burn… but will things change from now on?

“Mr. Shelby, you can’t go in there.” A man wearing a white robe stopped him.

Tommy looked down at the man’s hand, so close to his chest blocking him further access but not touching him yet.

“The fuc-“ Tommy was ready to start a fight, but Polly’s arm blocked him.

“Thomas, come with me.” She instructed firmly. “Let them take care of her.”

Reluctantly, he walked along the hall, dragging his feet with his head hanging low. Feeling so lost, helpless.

For a brief instant his eyes fixed on Y/N’s grandma and he froze. What was he supposed to tell her? He had failed her, he didn’t take care of Y/N and now her and the baby’s life were at risk.

“What happened?” It was Y/N’s mother voice, as she entered the hospital waiting room, she was wearing her nightgown with a coat on top of it.

Y/N’s grandma was about to explain her when she found Tommy’s eyes fixed on her.

“You.” She spat and launched at him directly, not caring that she was in a hospital.

Tommy lost his balance for a brief instant and he was forced to take a step back while Y/N’s mother discharged all her fury against him.

“You’ll be responsible if anything bad happens to Y/N.”

A nurse tried to grab her arms, Polly somehow managed to get in the middle too… all while Tommy saw red.

“Now it’s my fault eh?! Where were you when she begged for help? What did you do?” His rose his voice, losing control so fast as his heart pounded in his chest.

He rarely allowed any emotions show, but he couldn’t stop himself right there.

Of course he already felt guilty and regretted risking Y/N’s life, but the last thing he needed now was having her mother blaming him.

Someone in the room demanded silence and ordered only family members could stay. Tommy couldn’t take it anymore and he stormed off, walking along the corridor his firm steps could be heard in the distance.

It was pouring raining again but as he looked down, he noticed the blood that had dried in his hands and shirt. Y/N’s blood. In a split second, he was emptying the content of his stomach into the bushes, the realization hitting him hard.

Someone tried to kill him that night and unfortunately Y/N got the bullet instead. His ears were ringing non stop.

And for the first time in a very long time, he felt scared. Terrified, actually that something terrible could happen to Y/N and her baby. He should be the one getting shot, not her.

Straightening his back, he noticed Y/N’s grandma was standing there, waiting for him.

(End of flashback)

He snapped back into reality as Polly placed her hand on his shoulder. It had only been a minute or two since he shouted at John for questioning his orders and he was doing his best to regain composure, he felt frustrated and so angry with himself and deep down he knew he wasn’t at his best snapping at everyone at the slightest thing. Memories of what happened that night still haunting him day and night, if he could, he would have switched places with Y/N in a heartbeat.

He needed them to do what was on their lists.

“I’m going to the hospital, if something comes up-“

Tommy began to say, but his aunt interrupted him. “Go, go I’ll take care of everything.”

Polly fixed her eyes on her nephew, the explosive anger scene that unfolded with John a moment ago and had Tommy flustered and shouting was now gone, instead she could only see a defeated man. Guilt was eating him alive.

The fact that he was leaving his siblings to take care of the business was reason enough for her to worry about him, he never allowed anyone to lead the company.

As she watched him walk towards the door, she noticed his posture, it was nothing she had seen before… hunched shoulders, head low, the weight of the world enveloping him like a blanket. She knew he felt responsible, it didn’t matter how many times someone told him it wasn’t his fault.

She wondered for how long he’d be gone at night only to come back in the morning with his horse, then he’d go to the hospital most part of the day to follow the same routine.

Tommy walked through the cold hallway, straight to Y/N’s room not stopping to be escorted by a nurse, he was paying a huge amount of money to give her the best treatments, the best staff to stop and sign a visitor’s record.

Tommy stopped abruptly at the sight of Y/N lying in the hospital bed covered by a white sheet and the constant beeping of the machines she was connected to. His heart sank to the floor but a nurse interrupted his newest guilt road.

How unfair it was. There he was standing healthy, considering all of the shit he had done… not like Y/N, she was a great woman, strong, brave, sweet and funny, whose only mistake was giving herself to the wrong man. And she was the one with a bullet battling between life and death.

“Her mother just left a moment ago.” She informed him.

They still were in a rocky path since they arrived at the hospital, Y/N’s mother was naturally concerned about her daughter and even though she obviously blamed him, she was also thankful that Ada donated blood for the transfusion they needed since Y/N had lost so much blood.

He didn’t give the nurse a reaction, he just dragged his feet to stand closer to Y/N’s bed and waited until they were left alone.

“You’ve to wake up, so you can leave this place.” He pleaded in a whisper. “You’ve to be alright for your baby.”

Tommy didn’t notice the tears until they fell on his hands. Tentatively he reached out to touch her arm. “Please… If I could, I’d take your place.”

Y/N’s diagnose was still reserved, the doctors were able to stop the bleeding but couldn’t take the bullet out due to her pregnancy, they said it was a very high risk.

Her brain was swollen and they needed it to come down to evaluate the damage. A Doctor informed him that Y/N’s health wasn’t improving as he expected, they were waiting for her to react and wake up, but seeing her there was devastating enough. Tommy tried to encourage himself thinking that at least she wasn’t getting worse. That had to mean something.

Or at least that was what he was telling himself.

What was he supposed to do?

What was he supposed to say?

Gently, he took her hand in his. And for the first time, he felt his words were genuine, right from the heart.

“Y/N… I can’t lose you.”

His heart started beating faster inside his chest. It was all so clear now.

After spending the last couple of nights outside by himself next to the river, the thought had been running in his mind since he realized there was a possibility that Y/N couldn’t make it.

Because when you’re face to face with death, the deepest fears and feelings come to the surface to explode you right in the face.

Tommy didn’t know how or when it happened, but he was sure that he had feelings for Y/N.

There, he had admitted it to himself. Taking a shaky breath, his eyes moved from her hand to her face feeling terrified of her finding out the truth. But he only found her with her eyes closed.

“I need to know if I’m going crazy or if this is a one way feeling, Y/N.” He pleaded in a whisper. Swallowing the lump in his throat, his thumb started caressing her skin. “I think I couldn’t see it earlier because we see each other daily, and to be honest I don’t know how it happened… but when you were shot, all of these little moments we’ve had flashed through my eyes. And it was hard to admit at first because, well you know me.” He frowned and chuckled at his own words. “From all the people, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Tommy wondered why he was so fucking blind, Y/N had always been there right in front of him. How come he didn’t realize before?

For a few seconds, the only sound came from the machine connected to Y/N, beeping.

But deep down, he thought that maybe he had sabotaged himself to protect her, after all if he did something stupid he would lose the woman he had feelings for and his best friend.

“I guess it was a natural thing.” He continued. “We know each other so well… you know my flaws. You know me. Do y-you feel the same?” He asked feeling hopeful. “So I need you to wake up and tell me that I’m an idiot for not realizing sooner.”

His own feelings made him feel overwhelmed.

“I mean-”

“Good morning Sir.” A tall woman dressed in black with slender figure stood by the door, Tommy rushed to stand up immediately, giving his back at her, forcing himself to regain the composure and wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I took the liberty to come and see how Miss Y/L/N is doing, I heard she was shotgun.”

Tommy frowned, he couldn’t recall who this woman was.

“Who are you?” Slowly, he moved his hand towards his gun.

“I apologize, my name is Frances.” Her eyes moved towards the bed. “She gave me a place to stay, Miss Y/N helped me when a man kicked me out of my house, she’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met, she shared her food with me and-”

Tommy raised his hand at her, confused and taken aback for her explanation. “You’re the one staying at the Institute?”

Frances shifted her weight from one feet to another, wondering if she’d get in trouble. “Yes… goodness was I trespassing?” Worry showed in her face.

Tommy’s eyes found the ceiling, he let out a loud sigh. “No, it’s just everything makes sense now.”

Another person interrupted them, but this time it was someone who Tommy knew well. “Lee-Anne, come in.”

“Hello Tommy.” She waved. “I just came from school to see her.”

Feeling overwhelmed Tommy asked her to stay with Y/N for a moment.

“I just need to be home before noon, ‘cause my Dad is arriving from his trip.” She informed him taking his previous spot next to the bed.

Oh, her Father learning about what happened to Y/N was something he didn’t want to see.

Tommy nodded. “I’ll ask Jeremiah to drive you, he was visiting some patients.”

As Y/N’s sister gave him a nod, he fixed his eyes on Frances. “Why don’t you tell me how did you and Y/N meet?” He proposed. If it was important to Y/N and she decided to help this stranger, then it was important to him.

Frances twisted her hands, nervously. “It’s a long story…”

Tommy’s eyes darted to Y/N, who was lying on the hospital bed without moving.

“Well… I’ve time.”

****

Tommy pondered on what he was about to do. Doubt flashed before his eyes for a split second.

This was a family affair that he had nothing to do with, but he owed it to Y/N. He was doing this for her. So he took a deep breath and walked towards the small unit.

After he heard Frances story, he understood everything, he totally got why Y/N decided to help the woman and bring her to the Institute but now, he was about to fix that little issue.

“Who’s it?” A raspy voice asked from behind the door.

“Peaky Blinders. Open up.” Tommy demanded, banging the door louder.

It had been a long day and he was dealing with an internal turmoil, not in the right mood to deal with an arsehole.

A man in his underwear appeared, he smelled fusty “So you think you can just take this place and steal it from a widower huh?” Tommy grabbed the man by the neck and color abandoned his face.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

“Frances, you knew she had nobody to step up for her.”

“A- I… her husband gave me the papers to this house.” He mumbled as two women walked by staring at the scene.

“This property belongs to Frances so pick your fucking mess up and fuck off or I’ll shot your balls.” And with that, Tommy produced the weapon from its holster as a warning.

Keeping his piercing gaze on the man, Tommy saw him moving around clumsy, and nervously, once he was dressed Tommy kicked him out. “Make sure to get back the papers of the house boys.” He instructed them at the peaky men waiting outside, then walked towards one of the parked trucks to look in the passenger seat. “You can come out now, Frances.” His eyes softened. “Just got your house back.”

“Oh! Mr. Shelby how could I ever pay you back?” She was on the edge of crying. She grabbed one of his hands and was about to kiss it in an attempt to show her gratitude, but Tommy stopped her midway.

“Would you help me with the Institute? I’ll need someone trustworthy while Y/N recovers.”

Eve before he could finish his request, Frances was already nodding. “Yes, yes of course.”

As Tommy tipped his peak cap at her and was about to leave, she suggested.

“I could take care of Miss Y/N while her family switch shifts if you agree.”

And he knew in that moment that he made the right choice.

“I appreciate it.”

Now, he had to go to the gypsy camp, to see Madame Boswell. He needed to know if the sapphire was cursed, he needed answers, he needed to know if what happened was his fault.

He needed to make peace with himself.

****

The time away from everything and everyone seemed to work for him or at least he could feel the fresh air provided him some clarity… but now he was back into his routine and trouble was always around the corner.

He needed to know what advantages John and Arthur had made at the factories but first he drove straight to the hospital, to see Y/N.

Nurses and doctors gave him long glances, trying to keep a low profile. It was giving him an uneasy feeling but he kept strolling down the hall with firm steps until Y/N’s grandmother voice called for him.

“Do you‘ve a minute?”

Tommy nodded and greeted her gently. “How’s Y/N?”

“The swelling of her brain is subsiding but nothing yet.”

“And her baby?” He asked then, processing her words.

“Stable.”

Tommy’s eyes found hers and he saw something he didn’t like.

“But there’s something I must ask you.”

“Anything.” Tommy rushed to say, regretting his eagerness for a instant. She didn’t look like asking something good.

“Y/N’s parents think it’d be for the best if you stay away from her.”

“No.” Tommy’s jaw clenched instantly, his body tensed.

“Right now she isn’t in her best condition to make her own decisions… so they asked the staff to limit visits to family only.” Y/N’s grandma explained softly, she didn’t agree but it was up to the patient closest kin.

A sudden anger invaded his body, he wanted to shout and storm into her room to prove them nobody could stop him. And he knew it wasn’t Y/N’s grandmother fault either, she was just delivering a message, yet she could tell how hard it was for him so one of her hands came to rest over his closed fist and the other one on his shoulder.

“Just while Y/N recovers darling.” She offered.

Tommy was already shaking his head. “But-“

“Do it for her, I know you care about my granddaughter, just think the pain is the small price we’ve to pay.” She added softly at the same time she realized how difficult it was for him and without hesitation she welcomed him into a warm embrace they both needed in that very moment.

“I’ll keep one of my men close by and someone I trust to take care of Y/N when some of you aren’t available.”

Y/N’s grandmother nodded. “As soon as there’s something to report I’ll ask them to let you know, now if you excuse me I’ve a prayer to say.”

Tommy stood up with her and offered his arm for support, as the woman disappeared in the hallway he knew he had to leave because he wasn’t in the mood to encounter with Y/N’s parents.

Arthur looked at his brother by the corner of his eye. “Tom, why don’t we go the Garrison? Have a drink?” He tried to to sound cheerful.

“No.” Tommy answered right away.

He acted like a lion in a cage, snapping at the slightest comment, he was irritated, refused to hear anything different of his opinion, John and Michael had been on the brick of a fight because of Tommy’s attention.

Just as Arthur was about to insist once more, a knock on the door caught their attention.

“Come in.”

“Good evening, I just brought these papers Mr. Shelby, the monthly bills of the Institution.” Frances offered him the folder and immediately looked down.

He had asked for her help since she had been helping Y/N with the final touches. If she trusted Frances, then he trusted Frances as well. When she told him her story and what Y/N did to help her, Tommy understood everything and not only that, he sent

“Thank you, I’ll sign you a cheque later… would you take care of the payment? Y/N used to do it.” He sighed defeated and overwhelmed, now he was fully invested in the project Y/N was leading. So many things needed to be done, he didn’t know where to start… he went to the hospital last night but stayed across the street looking at Y/N’s window.

“The cleaning staff will start tomorrow and the carpets arrive at the end of the week.” Frances informed him solemnly, she took seriously her role and really stood up, she was so grateful with Y/N and said helping in her project was at least she could do while she got better.

“Thanks.” Tommy gave her one more nod and she excused herself to walk out of the office.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Frances offered but Tommy shook his head before taking the last sip of his second whiskey.

“She’s like a fucking soldier. Yes sir, no ma’am.” Arthur mimicked the woman, but it wasn’t fun enough to make Tommy laugh.

He just looked outside his window absently thinking of Y/N and how much he wanted her to be alright and how desperate he was to confess his feelings for her.

Again thank you so much for following this series! I hope to be back on track faster now ♥️✨

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[granddaughterofdemeter]

Look how I do this, Look how I got this

main ship: [percy jackson x f!reader]

side ship: [annabeth chase x readers m!cousin]

warnings: insecure!reader, flufff, people shipping r and percy,

chapter 1 summary: you have a huge crush on percy but one of your friends, rachel, does too, so you havent done anything. plus, percy doesn't like you like that anyway

[a/n: they look like the PJO tv show but aged up to 18]

Pre-Second Giant War against Gaea-flashback

You stood beside Annabeth as she rattled off about how they'd made the Lincoln Museum. Of course, you loved her like a sister but you couldn't stop yourself from dozing off.

“ [Name],” You tilted your head and stared into the eyes of Rachel Dare, the Oracle, one of your best friends and the girl who’s had a crush on Percy Jackson for years. See, you used to have a huge crush on him too but when you saw Rachel close to him you became insecure and resisted the urge to be closer to him mostly because you didn't want to violate the Girl Code .

She was popular, respected as the Oracle, and…pretty.

All you were was smart. You were only known because your best friend is Annabeth and your cousin is basically only known for a having a huge crush on her, and you would refrain from calling yourself pretty. It was hard acknowledging that fact but you liked being honest, unlike the people close to you.

They all said he liked you, but you were hesitant even with the signs.

“ Poppy, you want to sit by the lakeside for a picnic during lunch?” Percy whispered, his blinding smile lighting your questioning gaze. You shrugged though, trying to nod because you wanted to be subtle about the care you held for him.

Especially his nickname for you, he started calling you Poppy because, in his seventh-grade year, he had a project on Poppy seeds and found out that they cause sleep. Which, one night during the first quest, you'd done because he couldn't sleep, so you sang a small song that made him black out after the first verse. 

“Percy's been looking for you for ages to come to his cabin!” Rachel smiled, her green eyes lighting up. Annabeth nodded before offering you a hand to get up.

As you stepped toward the still, cold, marble, smelling of the sea, you looked around for a spot to sit.

“ [Name!]” Percy's grin relaxed you as he pulled you to his side on the blue couch. 

Annabeth gave you a pointed look while sitting down next to you and shook her head when you ignored her. Instead deciding to lean against the back of the couch. You came to Camp Half-Blood a year after Annabeth and Luke did. It took your father, Hypnos, a year afterward to claim you and move you from the Hermes Cabin.

It was two years after that when Percy came into your life and gave you the possibility to win a trophy for you and your half-siblings.

"Grover! we haven't seen you in so long!"

The brown-skinned boy shrugged and launched himself across a loveseat next to Annabeth, holding out a hand for a high-five. 

"Did I...miss something?" He turned his head to stare at the arm Percy's hand wrapped around you. You rolled your eyes and whispered to Percy, "Maybe you should stop basically wrestling me to sit next to you, they keep on thinking that we're dating." He grinned, sea-green eyes staring into yours.

"Well, it's funny when they have that disappointed look when we aren't." Disappointment settled into your stomach before you could shake it away, but you did nothing but laugh and fix his curly blonde hair around his face.

"Shut up, Perce!" You laughed, tilting your head away.

person who made the banners are tagged on my pinned post

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen ClarisseRenaldi One | Two

This part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned!

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Ironically, even tho the post says about a week of turn around, I get so excited that somebody wants to line jump that I just write it immediately lmao

Steve finally gets a good fight in this one, but it ends way too soon the poor boy. Either way, he also gets to meet some of the party!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve knew his dad wasn't in the picture, but he never knew why. He never asked, but he started to get this horrible feeling after a while. Harley Quinn's past was well known to Steve, her previous...associate and her relationship with him isn't exactly a secret, no matter how much his mother tried to keep them from him. She couldn't protect him at school, and she couldn't protect him from hearing people talking on the streets.

So, yeah, from the age of nine, Steve walked around with this horrendous knowledge in his gut, a knowledge that he wanted to think was just him being paranoid. But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't. He just couldn't admit that to himself, and he couldn't ask his mother because he didn't want to send her down that particular lane of memories. So it festered, and Steve pretended it didn't exist at all.

Until, that is, his 13th birthday. It was held at Uncle Bruce's mansion because his mother wanted to go all out. It was as much a celebration for her (a full three years without getting sent to Arkham!) as it was for him (managing to stay alive for 13 years in Gotham with Harley Quinn for a mother). Steve hadn't minded, either, especially when he saw the absolute joy she had when picking out the hugest bounce-house she could find with Uncle Bruce's sleek black credit card.

The party was catered by Steve's favorite Indian restaurant, the guests were limited to immediate friends and family, the bounce-house was extra bouncy, and a table was practically buckling under the weight of the gifts piled on top of it. It was, by far, Steve's best birthday, surpassing even the one he spent in Arkham after letting Poison Ivy out of her cell.

"Hey, Dumplin'!" his mother shouted, waving at him from the top of the bounce house she'd managed to climb. When Steve looked at her, she grinned even brighter and jumped, launching off turrets and rolling down sloped walls before landing on her feet on the ground. "Let's get to them presents!"

Steve laughed, looked at the table eagerly, and nodded. Her grin somehow getting wider, Harley turned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, "GET YOUR ASSES IN GEAR, EVERYONE! STEVIE'S OPENIN' PRESENTS!"

Soon enough, Steve was standing in front of the table, surrounded by everyone, and not at all sure where to start with the mountain of presents. "You should open mine first," Jason said, grinning as he gestured to a bike-shaped package.

It was, in fact, a bike. A motorcycle, specifically, with a red and black helmet and the promise of lessons from Jason whenever he wanted. Steve loved it immediately and ignored Uncle Bruce muttering about driving laws and how Steve couldn't operate any motorized vehicle until he was fifteen. "Well," he said, "as long as I don't get caught by Batman, who's gonna know?"

That had earned him a laugh and his mother's hand ruffling his hair. "Go on, Dumplin', choose another."

Dick got him a literal outfit's worth of Wonder Woman merch, accessories included, that made Bruce look ready to pop a blood vessel. Tim gave him small tracking pins and a hacked handheld game console to watch the trackers with the promise of free upgrades anytime he wanted. Damien gave him daggers since he "wasn't good enough for real swords, but everyone should have a blade" on them, just in case. Cass, Steph, and Barbara pooled their skills together (and Alfred, they borrowed Alfred a lot) to make him an Unofficial Robin costume, complete with shorts only slightly less scandalous than Dick's original costume.

Bruce, when he finally stopped glaring at the three of them, gave Steve a fingerprint panic button shaped like a bat and easily attached to a key ring. "For emergencies, Steve," he said, "Just hold your thumb to it for three seconds."

"This is perfect for the next time we run out of ice cream," Steve said, grinning as he attached it to his key chain.

"Emergencies."

"Oh. So if we run out of mint chip, specifically. Got it."

Bruce merely sighed and let him return to opening gifts.

Alfred gave him a tin of homemade cookies that Steve immediately had to protect from the others. Poison Ivy gave him a Venus flytrap and the promise to help him grow it properly. Selina couldn't be there, but Bruce passed along her gift: a pair of goggles Bruce had handed over with a sigh and quiet request for him to use them responsibly.

Steve opened Duke's present last, eyes widening at the red leather jacket. "Wait, seriously?" he asked, holding it up as he looked at Duke.

"You're gonna be a troublemaker, Steve," Duke said. "Might as well make sure you're bulletproof for it."

Steve grinned wider and pulled on the jacket, swimming in the leather but eager to grow into it all the same.

There was nothing from his mother in the pile, but Steve figured the party itself was his present since she'd done all the planning. When she pulled him away to a secluded room in the manor after they'd all had cake, Steve realized it was just because she didn't want to share this moment with anyone.

She smiled at him, reaching up and gently tucking a few strands of hair behind Steve's ears. "You grew up so fast, Dumplin'," she said, sighing softly.

"Ivy says I'm like a weed."

"Ives is right," Harley said, nodding once before looking away. "Okay, ready for your present?"

"Wasn't the party my present?"

"No, no, Dumplin'. The party was for fun," she said, grinning as she reached behind her and pulled a comically-large mallet from seemingly nowhere. "This is your present."

Steve blinked, leaning over to look around Harley. "Where'd that even come from?" he asked.

"Jester Logic, Dumplin'. Don't worry about it. I'll teach you the trick later," she promised, holding the mallet out to Steve with an expectant expression.

When Steve took it, the weight threw him off. He frowned, shifted his grip, and suddenly had no problem holding it up. He took a closer look, noting the scratches and marks on the mallet and the faded paint. "This was yours," he said.

"Yeah, it was."

"I've never seen it before."

Harley sighed, tugging on one of her pigtails with a slight frown. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly a great person when I used it, Dumplin'. Tried to forget about that Harley and all," she explained.

"Then why give it to me?"

Harley looked back at Steve and smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Cuz you're so much better than me," she said. "I think you'll do some great things, Dumplin', and maybe all the good you do will erase most of the bad this mallet's got."

Her words were so serious, her smile was so bittersweet, and she looked ready to cry and deny it. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to learning about her past straight from the source, a past he knew about it, a past that involved a certain person that haunts Steve's mind with terrifying potential. Suddenly, he had to know.

Steve didn't really think before blurting out, "Is the Joker my father?"

Harley froze, her shoulders tensing and her eyes widening as she stared at Steve. "You don't got a father, Dumplin'," she finally said, her voice quiet and her expression conflicted.

"Fine. Was he the sperm donor?"

With a sigh, Harley stepped closer and placed her hands on Steve's shoulders. "I won't lie," she said. "He is, but that don't mean a thing. His crazy ain't hereditary, Dumplin', and he's never gettin' anywhere near you."

"Does...does he know?" Steve whispered, "About me, I mean."

"It don't matter," Harley said, her voice firm and her eyes more serious than Steve had ever seen them. "I'll kill him before he gets near ya. Ives will kill him. Hell, Brucie wil---no, wait, he's got those pesky morals. Fine, Jason will kill him before he gets near ya. Actually, Jason'd kill him anyway, but the excuse will be good if Brucie scolds him for it."

Steve couldn't help laughing at that, feeling a little lighter when his mother smiled back at him. When his laughter trickled to nothing more than a smile, he asked, "Then, was I the reason you left?"

Harley nodded and gently tugged Steve into her arms, holding him to her and cradling the back of his head. "Yeah, you were," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "I was excited to tell 'im when I learned about you, but then I heard him talking to some goons. He was laughin' about running a kid over, breakin' their legs, and I realized...you wouldn't be special to him. You'd've been like his goons, all expendable and not even worth a glance. I couldn't put you through that, and I couldn't put me through it, either. So, I got us out the only way I knew how."

"By finding Uncle Bruce," Steve said.

He felt her nod. "By finding Brucie," she agreed. "He tried to deny bein' the Bat and all, but your mama ain't dumb, Dumplin'. I'd done my homework, and the butts matched. Once I explained it all, once I told him about you, he agreed to help."

Steve nodded, listening to his mother's heart beating against his ear. He glances down at the mallet again, tightens his grip, and takes a deep breath. "Thank you," he said, "for the gift and for telling me. I'll do good with it, I promise."

"That's my boy," Harley said, pulling back and ruffling his hair. "Now, lemme explain that Jester Logic to ya."

----------

Hawkins remains boring even after meeting Eddie. After all, Eddie's in high school (his second attempt at senior year, apparently), and Steve...isn't. He should be, probably, but there's no way he's stepping one foot in that suburban nightmare of a building. He can feel the normalcy, the utter boredom, oozing from the place, and he'd rather not subject himself to that.

So, he spends his day wandering around Hawkins, getting a feel for the little town until he could navigate the place blindfolded. He can do the same in Gotham, but it's more impressive there with the winding streets and sprawling sidewalks. Here, it's nothing special.

The most interesting part of his day is when he's sitting on the roof of a video store, one leg dangling over the edge with the other pulled to his chest so he can rest his arm on his knee. He's about halfway through a cigarette when a cop car pulls into the lot and a middle-aged man steps out.

He looks up at Steve, frowning as he calls up, "You shouldn't be there, son."

"I ain't your son," he calls back, grinning as he takes another drag and blows smoke out as the guy rests his hands on his belt. It reminds him so much of Gotham PD rookies trying to posture that Steve can't help laughing. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

"I'm serious, kid," the cop says, apparently ignoring Steve's question. "It's dangerous up there. If you don't come down, I'm gonna have to call the Fire Department to bring the ladder."

Steve sighs and puts his cigarette out on the roof. He gets up, stretches his arms above his head, and stands on the ledge of the roof. He grins at the cop, casually stepping into empty air and hearing the guy shout as he falls. He lands in a crouch on the awning over the door, swings to hang from it, and lands on his feet on the sidewalk.

It wasn't even much of a fall, but the cop looks like he's about to have a heart attack. Steve glances at the badge on his chest. "We done now, Officer Hopper?" he asks.

"Don't do that again," Hopper says, pointing a finger at Steve, "Or I will drag your ass to the station and call your parents."

Steve snorts, doing his best to hold his smile back. "I'll keep that in mind, sir," he says, giving a mocking two-finger salute before turning on his heels and walking down the street.

After a few blocks, he veers off into the forest, figuring he'll wander around the trees for a while before going to the Hideout to bother Bev and stare at Eddie and quietly pray someone else is gonna look for a fight.

Did he mention Hawkins is boring? Because it's fucking boring.

Steve sighs, kicking a stick as he shoves his hands into his jacket. He idly notes the forest is healthy. Sure, a few pieces of litter are strewn around, but it's not as bad as the parks in Gotham can get. Poison Ivy would find this place barely passable, which is hard to manage, and he's tempted to call her when he gets home to tell her about it.

He hums softly as he walks, enjoying the sounds of the forest until they just...stop.

The entire forest falls silent, which is weird; forests are too full of life to go silent. Even the bugs seem to have frozen in place, too scared to risk making a sound by moving. Steve stops, looking around him with a frown and trying to figure out what's caused this.

He gets the answer a second later when he hears a scream. The voice sounds young and cracks slightly, so it definitely belongs to a child. Despite himself, Steve can't help grinning as he takes off in the direction of the scream.

This is the most exciting thing to happen in the four weeks he's been stuck in Hawkins. As he runs through trees and easily jumps over bushes to take the shortest path, he makes guesses on what he'll find. Maybe Hawkins has a villain that's only now showing up. Maybe the town has a secret alligator or something that's decided to have a midday snack. Hell, maybe someone just decided to be a dick today.

He realizes every guess is wrong when he slides into a clearing to see a few kids (two boys, one girl) surrounded by some weird dog-looking...things. They have heads but no faces, crouched low to the ground and growling at the kids they've cornered. There's around ten of them, which would normally make Steve hesitate, but he's so desperate at this point for a real fight that he doesn't care.

Instead, he reaches over his shoulder, thinks about how fucking hilarious it's gonna be to jump out of nowhere with a giant mallet, and grips the handle as he swings it over his shoulder. "Hey, monster mutts!" he shouts, grinning when all the monsters and the kids finally notice him. "Let's play."

Pure, unfiltered joy rushes through him when the first monster-dog jumps at him. Steve's eyes are bright and his grin is positively feral as he swings the mallet and sends it flying into a tree. He roundhouse kicks another dog, using the momentum to bring his foot down on the head of a third before smashing its body with the mallet.

"Are you insane?!" one of the kids shouts.

"Certifiably!" he shouts back, watching as another monster-dog jumps at him. He waits for the perfect moment to back flip, bringing his feet under the dog to send it flying. He brings the mallet up as he lands, clocking another monster under the jaw. It yelps, crashing into another dog.

"Where'd this guy even come from?" the girl asks, turning to look at the boys with her.

"I don't know, but I'm happy to let him deal with the demodogs."

Oh. That's what they're called. Steve hums softly at the name, grinning as he twirls the mallet and swings with all his strength at one of the demodog. He rests the mallet on his shoulder like a baseball bat, watching the demodog arch in the air with an appreciative whistle. "Solid air," he says, nodding once before looking at the remaining demodogs.

There's only three, the others scattered in the clearing. He can't tell if they're dead or not, but he could always smash them to mush when he's done. Steve grins at the remaining dogs. "C'mon, then," he says, only to be filled with disappointment when they creep back, turn heel, and run.

"Damn, that's no fun," Steve says, sighing as he rests the mallet on the ground and leans on the handle. He looks at the kids. "You guys okay?"

The girl has orange hair pulled back into a messy braid. She's staring at him like he's got two heads but is kind of impressed by it. One of the boys has curly hair being smothered by his hat, and the other is wearing a basketball jersey. They're also staring at Steve like he's crazy. "Dude," the curly-haired one says, "that was awesome!"

"Where'd you get that mallet from?" the girl asks.

"Jester Logic," Steve explains, shrugging as he picks the mallet up and walks over. "Wanna hold it?"

When the girl lights up, he passes the mallet to her, snorting when she immediately staggers under its weight. "How do you hold this so easily?"

"Jester Logic. Again. It's funnier when other people find it heavy."

"That makes no sense," basketball jersey says.

"Who are you?" curly hair asks.

"Steve. Moved here recently. What about y'all?"

"Dustin," curly hair says.

"Lucas," basketball jersey says.

"Max," the girl says, her voice strained until Steve takes the mallet back, twirling it like it weighs nothing.

"Great. Nice to meet y'all. Now, what the fuck were those?"

"How much time you got?" Dustin asks.

Steve grins, thinking he's finally found something that can keep him entertained when he's not hanging around Eddie. "Plenty."

---------

Tag list (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@nectandra, @y4r3luv, @just-a-tiny-void,

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hey! Love your fics! Have just finished The Taste of Temptation 🥵 a small idea popped in my head where Daniel is away and his Kitty is spending time with other drivers on a yacht. The aussie sees the pics, his blood starts to boil but then he sees the pics where she's putting on his DR3 or Enchante merch on

Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {1}

A/N: there will be a splattering of little snapshots of moments between Danny and his kitten from The Taste of Temptation universe.

F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?”

Lando looked offended at the question and purposefully hit the waves in the wake of Charles' boat, launching the JetSki into the air. Your arms tightened around his waist as you lifted from the seat and your heart rose in your throat at the height of the jump. It was instant karma that he winced at the deafening scream of terror you made but it wasn’t enough to drown out the men laughing at your expense on the yacht.

“Where are you going?” Lando asked with a laugh as you abandoned him and jumped into the sea.

“To change my underwear, you dingbat,” you joked as you swam towards the Monza, making Lando nearly tip over as he tried to turn around while doubled over laughing.

When you reached the Monza, Charles offered his hand to help you up since Pierre was too busy cackling to himself. “Did that use up one of your nine lives, kitten?”

Charles arched an eyebrow in disbelief as he looked at his friend who had been taking pictures all day just to annoy Daniel. “Mate, do you have a death wish?”

“He must have, especially if he posted any of those photos.” You reached into your bag and grabbed the powder-blue oversized Enchantée sweatshirt you had stolen from Daniel. Pulling it over your body was the closest you could get to one of his hugs when he was busy with work and when you took a seat there was enough room to tuck your knees up inside it too.

“They are very good pictures,” he defended himself as he took another couple of Lando pulling up alongside the boat, Charles at the helm and you watching the sun reflect on the shimmering surface. “I could be a photographer, I am an artist.”

You looked at Charles and rolled your eyes. “He took one decent photo of Kika, who is the most photogenic person on the planet, and now he thinks he’s Kym Illman.”

“I’ve taken more, but she would kill me if I showed them off,” Pierre admitted with a smirk.

“Oh my god, mate,” Charles groaned a laugh. “That is not smart. Think, if you get hacked, then what?”

You gave Charles a little clap at the point he made but Pierre just laughed it off without a care. “You worry too much.”

Red Bull Training Facility

Sweat drenched the singlet Daniel wore but he pushed himself to finish the last rep knowing a break was coming as soon as he was done. The routine physical fitness test was never fun but the fact it was taking him away from time with you left him in a sour mood. He was doing his best and results were better than ever because he knew the sooner he finished then the quicker he could head home to Monaco where you were waiting.

“Alright, good work. Take a breather, get a drink, and be back here in 10.”

Daniel was quick to grab his phone with his bottle of water and took a seat on the Swiss ball. His lips tugged up into a smile when he saw the messages from you, wishing him well and how much you missed him. He replied to them first, promising everything he would do to show you just how much he missed you too.

Seeing a tonne of notifications on Instagram, he opened the app next and his jaw clenched at what he found. All through his dashboard were images of you wearing next to nothing with the two-piece swimsuit he gave to you. He was surprised the sweat on his body didn’t turn to steam the way his blood boiled.

The whole day had been caught in a series of photos Pierre had posted. There was one of you standing at the bow of the Monza as she pulled out of the marina, you diving off the back and swimming to Lando who had followed on Max’s JetSki, you sitting behind the British driver with your arms around his waist. Every swipe to the next image left him feeling hollow and empty as he watched his kitten’s smile grow with each one.

Until it was gone.

Daniel cursed as he found a picture with terror clear on your face. Lando had launched the JetSki over a wave and you had held onto him for dear life. That was the last photo on the vessel and he sighed with relief when the next photo erased every chaotic thought he had had. You were snuggled into his sweatshirt and watching the sun like you did at home. Daniel would often find you in a similar state most mornings as you sat on the balcony overlooking the sea, a hot tea in hand and his clothes on your body.

Daddy Ric: Stealing more of my clothes, kitten?

Kitten: They look better on me.

Daddy Ric: They’d look even better on the bedroom floor.

Kitten: Then hurry up and come home.

“Break time is over, this isn’t summer camp.”

Daddy Ric: Soon, kitten. I’ll see you tonight.

Click here for another snapshot.

[autisticlancemcclain]

One Saturday morning, as Keith and Lance descend the stairs on their way to the kitchen — as Keith practically carries a still half-asleep Lance, that is — Marcela whips towards them, points a scolding finger in their direction, and says, “I am tired of checking in on you two at night and seeing my son, sprawling over half the bed, while poor Keith clings to the edge. No more.”

Keith’s heart drops to his toes, pounding all the way down. His ears billow out and then fade slowly, like someone turned the volume down. He feels like a beyblade someone just spun and dropped onto the pavement, dizzy and sharp and sparking, trembling to a stop. For several horrifying moments he’s convinced that this may very well be it, and he’s shocked by his own surprise. He’s usually so prepared for the eventual end of someone’s affection, for the patience to run out, for the boot to kick him on the way out the door. It’s startling to realise how far he’s let his defences drop with the Esposita-McClains.

Dangerous.

But then Keith processes the entirety of her sentence, hears past “I’m tired of” and “Keith” in the same sentence. He sees her narrowed eyes and chiding finger and playful exasperation pointed at Lance’s guilty grin, not at Keith, and he realises she is exasperated by the fact that Lance takes up the whole bed every night Keith sleeps over, not that Keith sleeps over at all.

He unclenches his fist from the hem of Lance’s shirt. He’s not sure if Lance does it on purpose, but he leans farther into Keith, and the pressure helps ground him, helps him breathe again.

“I really don’t mind,” Keith mumbles. He keeps his eyes averted, unwilling to meet her knowing ones. “Lance isn’t that bad.”

Marcela snorts, ruffling his hair as she walks by to set the milk on the table. “Please, Keith. He’s a nightmare to sleep with and he knows it. He had to have those little toddler rails on the sides of his bed until he was seven years old because he kept falling off.”

Lance makes a noise of protest at the embarrassing anecdote. Keith smiles, patting his back slightly.

“He does drool.”

“And kick,” says Lance’s older sister Veronica, ducking into the kitchen to grab an apple. Rachel, his other sister, is right behind her, and she pipes up too.

“He also grinds his teeth!”

“And mutters freaky things. He said he was going to curse me once.”

“Oh, yeah, and there was the deal with the sleeping sitting up!”

“And there was —”

“Alright, girls,” Marcela interrupts, leaning over to hold down the hand Lance has clenched around a fork before he has a chance to launch breakfast at his sisters. She looks to have intervened in the nick of time, which makes Keith smile into his cereal. “Let’s not make your brother homicidal.”

Both girls leave the kitchen snickering. Lance’s face promises revenge. For their sake, Keith hopes they find a way to lock their room door, but somehow he doubts it. A part of him is intrigued about whatever scheme Lance will inevitably rope him into.

“I really am fine, though,” Keith repeats once calm has returned to the morning again. “I once had to sleep in a home that usually had more kids than beds, so Lance’s kicking is a significant improvement from a sleeping bag on the kitchen floor.”

He hadn’t meant for his comment to be upsetting. It wasn’t great, sure, but he’d had a roof over his head and food to eat, and he’d only been there for a couple days. The whole situation was funny in hindsight, hilarity inherent in the absurdity of his neon green sleeping bag next to the magnet-covered fridge, and that’s how he’d meant the comment. A joke.

But Marcela looks horrified, and Lance leans over to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and wrap their hands together, and Keith realises he’s most definitely made a mistake.

“Kidding,” he tries anyway, but the damage is done. The determination in Marcela’s eyes becomes even more apparent, and she nods twice as if reassuring herself. Keith could kick himself.

“Be ready in twenty minutes,” she says resolutely. “We’re going out.”

———

In twenty minutes they’re in the car. Lance almost has his voice back by then, too, which is great, because Keith feels like he’s going to lose his — he’s expecting a fancy air mattress, really. At most he’s expecting to be delegated to his own space in the pull out couch or something. And even that is more than he ever thought he’d get. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves it, or anything like that. He knows that some of his living situations have been less than ideal, in the past few years.

But he…he’s not part of this family. He’s not supposed to be, anyway. He’s someone Lance dragged home someday, someone Lance latched onto and then everyone else seemed to follow his example. Keith knows his current foster family gets a cheque for an amount he’s too afraid to find out every month. He knows the state government pays people to home and house and feed him because no one else will. That’s how it’s been since that’s what it had to be.

He cannot understand what logic has inspired Marcela and Lance and all the Esposita-McClains, really, to home and house and feed him. He doesn’t understand.

He’s not expecting a forty minute drive to Ikea. He doesn’t understand why so much is being extended for him. He’s not expecting the determination in Marcela’s face and the way she holds Keith in one hand and Lance in the other, tightly, as if both are her children, until Lance whines and pulls himself free to come hold Keith’s other hand, as if he’s the commodity.

Keith doesn’t understand.

This is not how things are supposed to go.

This is never how things end up going. Not ever in a million years or even less.

“We should get a bunk bed!” Lance says excitedly, pulling Keith out of his thoughts and in a random direction. Marcela squeezes Keith’s hand once and lets go to allow it, stepping to the side to grab on of the boxy blue shopping carts.

Lance brightens even further when she brings over the cart, hopping onto the end of it and gesturing for Keith to do the same. Keith looks at the cart, then at Lance, then at the wheels, then at the total lack of space beside him, and imagines Marcela hitting the tiniest bump as they cram onto the little ledge and then them going flying.

He wisely chooses to walk over and grab the handlebar next to Marcela. She extends her pinky to rest next to Keith, which makes several emotions that he refuses to identify rise up in his throat.

“Let’s maybe consider our other options,” Marcela suggests as she pushes the cart farther. “You remember when we stayed over at your primo’s house when we first moved? You hit the ceiling every single morning because you could never remember that it was there. I don’t think bunk beds are for you, mijo.”

“And the toddler rail thing,” Keith adds. He’d meant it seriously — Lance has genuinely fallen a few times and Keith has had to drag him back up — but Lance huff-laughs in the way that he does when Keith teases him and he’s annoyed that he finds it funny, and Marcela straight up laughs. Keith meets Lance’s eyes and smiles to soften the unintentional dig.

“Fine,” Lance laments, dramatically leaning backwards on the rail. “We’ll just get boring normal beds I guess. Ooooou, we should get some bookshelves! Then Keith has somewhere to put all his nerd things.”

Marcela turns the shopping cart so quickly it screeches and nearly flings Lance right off, speeding towards the shelving area. Keith hurries to keep up.

“Excellent idea, Lancito. Bribing him to stay for longer. You’re so smart.”

Lance preens. Keith looks rapidly between them both, trying to find the joke, but there isn’t one. They, genuinely and truly, want to redesign Lance’s entire room to entice Keith to stay. However much it will cost, and Keith knows it will be a lot, they are doing more than what is reasonable to ensure they (not just Lance! All of them! The household!) can spend more time with Keith.

It’s baffling.

Try as he might, Keith simply cannot find a motive. He watches, gobsmacked, as Lance and Marcela hem and haw their way through the biggest furniture outlet chain in the world, comparing sturdy wooden shelving and colourful bean bag chairs and dorky spaceship themed beds, redesigning a whole room from scratch.

He startles out of his thoughts at Marcela’s beckoning, walking over to the display table she and Lance are illegally sitting at (there is a giant FOR VISUAL DISPLAY ONLY sign on it that they have ignored), half hunched over her cell and a pad of paper. “Keith, rojo, come here. We need you to sketch out the basics of Lance’s room so we know what fits. Marco is measuring the walls and everything right now. Don’t worry about anything that’s already in there, I think we’re taking it all out to paint it anyway. You like blue, right?”

Keith swallows roughly. He does like blue. He’s never painted his own room before.

“Yeah,” he manages, finally squishing down next to Lance on his chair.

Following Marco’s directions, he sketches out the foundations of the bedroom, marking the big window and weirdly narrow door and closet that Lance never uses because he has it piled full of stuff he doesn’t use but can’t bring himself to give away. The sketch is then used as a sort of map as they wander around the outlet, holding it up to various pieces of furniture and assessing how they would fit. It takes Keith some time, but after several hours of Lance’s energy and Marcela’s excitement, Keith starts to get hyped.

“Gasp!“ Lance says out loud, because he is a dork. He reaches a flapping hand over to Keith’s without looking, slapping him on the shoulder several times before finally managing to grip onto his sleeve. “Keith! Keith! Look!”

Keith squints in the direction Lance is emoting at. “A couch,” he says slowly, trying to figure out what warrants the intense excitement.

Honestly, it might be the couch. Lance got super excited about bar stools, earlier, so anything really goes.

“No no, farther!”

Keith squints harder. “The countertops?”

“Farther!”

“The…vases?”

“No! Farther!” Finally Lance gets frustrated enough to step behind Keith, gently pressing his palms to Keith’s cheeks and guiding his head in the right direction. “Now squint really hard and get excited with me.”

Keith tries. He sees grey blobs and says nothing, allowing the silence to speak for him.

“The stuffies, Keith! They’re sharks and hippos! Mama, Keith needs glasses.”

“I know,” she says at the same time that Keith says “No, I don’t.”

They stare at each other for several moments.

“As soon as you’re on the insurance,” she says levelly.

“I will feed them to a creek,” Keith promises.

He has never been this stubborn to Marcela before. He didn’t even mean to. If he had known he was going to say it he would have kept his mouth shut, but the words kind of bubbled out of him. He waits for her eyes to harden, her shoulders to square, for the annoyance to become evident at his insolence.

But she only snorts, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “I got Marco to wear them. I got Lisa to wear them. I got my mule of a husband to wear them. If you need them, you will not out-stubborn me, toro.”

Keith shrugs. If she’s that hellbent on getting to know him, she’ll learn, he supposes.

By the time the time they break their intense eye contact, they realize that Lance has already wandered off towards the stuffed animals, and hasten to follow him (he gets lost easy). Lance is already halfway into this big bucket, digging for something specific.

“This is for you,” he says when he finally unearths himself, handing a hippo to Keith. “Smaller than the others, like you, and the fluff is a little matted but it’s softer than the others. The shark is for me because it was stuck on the hippo like I’m stuck on you.” He playfully checks Keith’s hip, giggling at his own joke, but Keith’s eyes are totally glued onto the wonky little hippo plushie in his hands. He holds it loosely, afraid of crushing it, and stares intensely at the matted fluff on the one side, the tangled mess of the little poof at the tail. He tries three times to swallow and fails each time, lump in his throat taking up too much space.

“We’re too old for stuffies,” he finally manages. He gives himself away by how tightly he holds the soft things in his hands.

Lance snorts. “Yeah, well, you’re a massive dweeb, so I think we’re fine.”

“I think they’ll be wonderful additions to your room,” Marcela says with finality, and that is that.

———

By the time they make it out of the maze that is Ikea, pack up the car, and set out on the ride home, it’s well after eight thirty. And Keith isn’t a baby, and neither is Lance, and they have a later bed time than that, but…

They’ve been walking around all day. There has been a lot of expended energy.

They’re tired.

Keith remembers being finagled into playing double-o seven with Lance in the back seat. He remembers losing. He remembers poking Lance in the cheek as he yawned just to hear him squawk.

He remembers nothing but the feeling of Lance’s warmth pressed against his, after that, and the seatbelt digging into his neck, and the numbness of his legs. Then he remembers nothing until he felt the familiar bump of the Esposita-McClain driveway, until he cracked open his eyes to see that they were home and closed them quickly again, hoping he wouldn’t be made to get up, still mostly asleep.

“Should we bother setting up the new beds?” comes a whispered voice, deeper and male.

“No, no,” comes another, higher and softer. “They can sleep together for tonight. You take Lancito. I’ll take Keith.”

He is awake enough to feel soft fingers brushing through his hair, then jostling, then heavy breathing beside his ear and the swaying of being carried. He falls fully asleep again against Marcela’s shoulder, leaning his weight onto her fully, forgetting to keep awake for the walk to their room. He stirs slightly again as he’s set down onto something soft, as he feels the familiar tug of Lance’s finger’s against the fabric of his shirt, the sound of his slow breathing.

“Goodnight, estrellitos,” comes the same whispered voice from earlier, and it’s the last thing Keith remembers before he slips away into sleep.

———

other parts in this universe: 1 2 3

[kpopfanfictrash]

The Ten Days of Ex-Mas (Teaser)

Posting Date: Tuesday, December 19th, 7:00 PM CT

Creative Collaborator: @kithtaehyung FOR THIS AMAZING BANNER!

Genre:  Holiday / Second Chance!AU / Hockey!AU

Pairing: Jimin / Reader (F)

Length: One Shot 

Synopsis: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Author’s Note: Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration!

Estimated WC: 45K (... whoops; this will probably be multiple parts)

Rating: 18+

Preview: 2,141

Y/N POV

You should have known better than to trust Namjoon with your dating life.

Yoongi never would have put you in this situation. The more level-headed of your two best friends, Yoongi approaches matters of the heart with the same rationality he does everything else. Namjoon, on the other hand, is a great guy – who is notoriously bad at reading other people.

The number of times you’ve been forced to step in and save him from phone scams is astounding. It’s not his fault, really – Namjoon trusts too easily, which doesn’t serve him well in this world. He’s always willing to give others the benefits of the doubt, which gets him into trouble. 

And now you, by extension, having accepted the blind date he proposed.

Mike Davis moved into Namjoon’s building two months ago, and Namjoon has been adamant since the start that you two would hit it off.

“He goes to all the same conventions you do,” he assured you last week on the phone.

“Which conventions?” you asked, squinting hard at the wall. “I know you’re not big into nerd culture, Namjoon, so as an FYI – not all cons are considered equal.”

Namjoon rattled off a few you’d attended, impressing you enough to agree despite the initial disinterest. This agreement may have been spurred by tonight being the three-month anniversary of the worst break-up of your life.

Almost as soon as you sat, you realized your mistake. While you may have reached a point where you don’t cry every time your ex’s name is mentioned, the prospect of dating someone else is an entirely different matter. Getting dressed up felt strange, as did traveling to the restaurant and waiting for Mike at the bar.

The fact that Mike called this place a ‘restaurant’ should have been your first clue, as Hat Trick is most definitely a sports bar – specifically, a hockey bar. Had you known (really, you should have known), you wouldn’t have gone, but you were nervous and trying to make a good impression. Upon arriving, you arranged yourself awkwardly on a sticky bar stool and waited seven minutes for Mike to walk in.

Nearly an hour later, you find yourself regretting coming at all. Mike excused himself two minutes ago for the bathroom and as soon as he left, you sagged with relief.

He’s a nice guy, you suppose. Good looking, with light brown curls and dark eyes. You can see why Namjoon thought he might be good for you – Mike is the exact opposite of your ex in many ways. Constantly frazzled, he arrived late to the bar, only to immediately duck outside because he forgot to pay the parking meter. Jimin was the type to unpack his suitcase immediately after reaching the hotel and brought several chargers in case one of them died.

Once the meter was paid, Mike sat down and immediately launched into his entire life story. You suppose you should have been happy about this, since lack of communication ended your last relationship but instead, found yourself overwhelmed. 

Mike finally paused for breath once your drinks arrived, allowing you a moment to answer his questions. The moment you said you ran a pretty popular cosplay TikTok, Mike instantly shifted from arrogant to insecure. 

“I can’t believe you came,” he exhaled with a shake of his head. “When Namjoon showed me your picture, I said no way would you go out with me. You’re way too beautiful.”

Somewhat awkward, you laughed. “Don’t try and get me to leave, now, Mike.”

His eyes widened, not catching your sarcasm and it took several moments to get back on track. Everything since has been downhill, so when he excused himself for the bathroom, all you felt was relief.

Digging through your purse, you pull out your phone and swipe to the group chat.

Y/N: Namjoon, WHAT possessed you to set me up with this man [7:46 PM]

Yoongi’s reply comes immediately.

Yoongi: told you it was too soon [7:46 PM]

Namjoon’s ellipses join in.

Namjoon: what! Why? What happened?? Mike didn’t try something on you, did he? [7:47 PM]

Y/N: no, no – nothing like that [7:47 PM]

Y/N: he just keeps saying how *amazing* I am and how he doesn’t know why I’m on this date at all [7:47 PM]

Yoongi: dude [7:48 PM]

Y/N: EXACTLY [7:48 PM]

Before Namjoon can respond, the bartender changes the channel and an all-too-familiar name blares over the speakers. Slowly, you look up, and all thoughts of Mike fade, faced with NHL coverage.

Nope, no – absolutely not.

Leaning over the counter, you lightly tap the bartender. “Hi.” Brightly, you smile. “First off, could I have another glass of white wine? And then, maybe… could you change the channel?”

Glancing around, the guy shakes his head. “Yes, to the wine, but no, the channel,” he says with a shrug. “Half the people in here came to watch the game. Pre-show coverage is part of that.”

With an apologetic nod, he grabs a rag and disappears. Sinking back in your seat, you stare at your hands, clasped tightly together. Your spot at the bar puts you in the unfortunate position of hearing each word the announcers say crystal-clear.

“Well, Josh, what chance do you think the Blackhawks have tonight?”

The silver-haired man beside him bobs his head. “Steve, I’d say their chances are pretty darn good. You’ve seen this team’s early games. Their first line is strong, especially now that Park’s back.”

“Oh, absolutely – Jimin Park has been crucial in the last couple of games. He was sorely missed last season.”

“Ha! You can say that again.”

Trying to hide your wince, you clasp your hands tighter as a fresh glass of wine is set down. “Thanks,” you mutter, downing half in one gulp.

Immediately, your plans for later tonight shift to accommodate another bottle of wine. Movement catches the corner of your eye, and, despite yourself, you watch the montage of star right winger, Jimin Park, tearing his way down the ice. Shamefully, you recognize every shot since, although you broke up in September, you continued to watch every game.

“One of the most talked about moments last year in hockey was the late check on Park by Blues player, Brent Howard,” continues the announcer, Josh. “His helmet came loose when he hit the boards, and he went down hard on the ice. Park suffered a sprained knee and herniated a disc in his neck. A complicated surgery took him for most of the season, only starting to skate with the team again over the summer.”

Hearing the trauma recounted with such callousness, you find yourself gripping your wine glass tighter than before.

“I don’t think anyone ever expected Park to play again,” agrees the other announcer, Steve. “It’s a damned miracle he’s back on the ice – but to return and be this good? Park has always been one of the best right wingers in the league, but I’d say he’s the best offensive player on the ice right now.”

“A bold claim!” laughs Josh. “But I might just agree. Even Jungkook Jeon on the Rangers hasn’t been matching Park in assists.”

“Exactly! I mean, look at the numbers. Last year, the Blackhawks barely made the playoffs and now, they’re first in the Western Conference.”

“Truly amazing, given the nature of his injury last November. I don’t know how familiar you are with herniated discs, Steve, but –”

Mike slides back onto his stool. Grateful for the distraction, you turn fully to face him. Having already lived through the injury once, you have no need to reminisce. Replacing your phone in your purse, you smile gamely at Mike.

“So,” you say, attempting to save the conversation. “Namjoon mentioned you like conventions? What fandoms are you a part of?”

“Oh.” Mike loosely shrugs. “I doubt you’ve heard of any of them.”

At his dismissive tone, you stiffen. Your experience with the male side of fandom is always a toss-up. “Well, there are a lot of them. Any that are more mainstream?”

He considers. “Marvel?”

Stunned, you blink once or twice. Marvel has to be one of the biggest fandoms on the planet, let alone in the country. Even if you weren’t deep in the convention circuit, you’d have heard of Marvel.

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “I think I’ve heard of that.”

“Cool, cool.” Mike nods. “Namjoon said you do cosplay – and showed me your TikTok! You know, you’d make a great Wonder Woman.”

You can practically feel your jaw tighten. “That’s DC, not Marvel. But thanks.”

Silent, you add for nothing. While you love Wonder Woman and have, in fact, cosplayed her many times, men usually only request her for one reason and that’s the skimpy outfit. Whenever you cosplay as circa 2010 Wonder Woman in pants, they’re decidedly less interested. By now, you’ve learned only to pick your characters based on personal interest.

“Have you ever cosplayed?” you ask.

Unbidden, your gaze slides to the TV. Commercial break. Stifling your twinge of disappointment, you refocus on Mike.

“Nah.” His nose wrinkles, and your stomach sinks further. “I don’t do that stuff.”

“Stuff?”

Hearing your tone, his eyes widen. “I mean, it’s cool for you. I saw your TikToks and you look amazing. I’d just look dumb,” Mike says, attempting a laugh.

Sweetly, you smile. “I don’t know. My ex used to cosplay with me, and no one ever laughed at him.”

Admittedly, this is something of a low blow since your ex-boyfriend is Jimin Park, but either Namjoon didn’t tell him, or Mike doesn’t care. Which – if that’s so, maybe Mike deserves more credit than you gave him. 

“Ah.” He nods, taking a sip of his beer. “Have you ever thought about cosplaying as Wonder Woman, though?”

Your smile vanishes. Then again, maybe you’ve given him exactly the right amount of credit.

“I have,” you say. “But more recently, I’ve been cosplaying Dimension 20 characters. It’s kind of niche, but my last character was Sundry Sidney from A Starstruck Odyssey. You know – giant machine gun arm, roller skates and a mechanical eye. Oh, and a ‘fuck erotica ann’ button, of course.”

Mike’s smile freezes. “Why… would you dress like that?”

“Because it’s fun.” Finishing your glass of wine, you toss a few bills on the counter and stand. “Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Mike, but I think we’d be better off as friends. Don’t you agree?”

Even with the answer right there in the question, still he looks flummoxed.

“I…” 

“Or acquaintances,” you add, pulling on your pea coat. “Or nothing at all. Whatever you prefer.”

Slinging your purse on your shoulder, you wave at the bartender and start to leave. You only make it several steps before Mike mutters something beneath his breath – loud enough that you hear.

“Stupid,” he mutters. “This is why you don’t date women like her, Mike.”

You come to a stop. Really, you should keep going. Common sense – and Namjoon’s HOA – depend on you being the bigger person and walking out. But your therapist has said you need to work on communicating, even when the message is something the other person won’t like.

Turning around, you tap Mike on the shoulder.

He glances upward, surprised – and then reddens, realizing you heard.

“Yep, I heard,” you say shortly, retracting your hand. “Was your muttering supposed to be secret?”

Mike opens, then closes his mouth, like a fish.

“What did you mean, ‘women like me?’” you demand, folding your arms. “Ones with self-respect? Or hobbies? Women who know more about a subject than you do?”

Behind the counter, the bartender snort-laughs, rising in your esteem despite the whole TV channel thing. 

Mike stares at you, stunned. He seems to grow a pair in that moment though, straightening to face you on his stool. “Women with sticks up their asses,” he blurt.

Stifling an eye roll, you lean closer. “Listen, Mike,” you say, placing one hand on the counter. “If you think you can hurt my feelings – think again. Someone broke my heart three months ago, so nothing you say now will remotely compare. Do you really want to know why women like me won’t date you?”

The furrow between his brows deepens, and you take this as a sign to continue. Leaning even closer, you lower your voice.

“It’s because you’re insecure,” you say softly. “Giving someone a compliment and putting yourself down in the same sentence isn’t nice, it’s awkward. Not to mention, you’re sexist,” you add, watching him stiffen. “Telling me – a two-time Comic Con trivia champion – that I wouldn’t know Marvel is wild. Oh, and you’re a snob. Tabletop games are awesome, and cosplay is fun. Have a good night – I paid for your drink.”

With that, you turn around and march out the door to a smattering of applause from your new favorite bartender. 

[ TO BE CONTINUED ]

© kpopfanfictrash, 2023. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[strawberri-elixir]

Sleepless nights

╰⇢ 24. I like- no- love you.

Warnings: not proof read very well

note: WRITTEN PART AGAINNN (shits happening y'all) also i think it's longer than the last written part(?) not too sure tho

“Ready to go?” You turned to the boy in front of you. Everyone else had already left, leaving you and Yuta to get home on your own.

“Hm? Oh, yeah I’m ready to go.” The boy responds, looking back out towards the lake again.

You take the spot beside him, resting your arms against the railing and leaning your weight him. He didn’t respond, only letting out a small grunt when your bodies came in contact.

“What’s got you looking so serious?” Your eyes never leave the water.

“… nothing.” He sighed.

“Oh, didn’t you have something you wanted to tell me?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Yuta offered a small smile in hopes of getting you to drop the topic. You didn’t.

“Yeah like I believe that.” You playfully push the boy, tugging him back from the railing. “Come on! Let’s go home, you can tell me on the way.”

The two of you began walking around the lake, Yuta had suggested you take the long way around, to spend more time together, he told you.

It wasn’t long before the two of you found yourselves at park stationed near the entrance, where you eagerly dragged Yuta towards. You sat on the swings for a while, seeing how high you could go before launching yourself off and landing on the gravel.

“I win.” You give Yuta a cheeky grin as you stood a few inches ahead of him.

The boy gave you a playful pout, rolling his eyes as he went back to the swing set. He began swinging slowly, seemingly trying to find the right words to say.

“Yuta?” You chime. “What’s wrong?”

"It's nothing, just a little tired." He sighed.

"Let's go then." You took a hold of his hand and dragged him away towards your house. "You can tell me whatever you wanted to tell me on our way back."

Thus leading to Yuta's first failed attempt to confess of the night.

The two of you ended up somewhere in town, strolling through the dimly lit streets as you passed stores and booths as you went.

"Come on! We're almost home." You pick up your pace as you dash under the street lights with Yuta jogging behind you.

"Slow down a bit." The dark haired boy calls out and his hand slips through your grip.

When you didn't slow down, Yuta let out a soft chuckle and ran after you, quickly catching up to you. He grabbed you hand and planted his feet, forcing you to an abrupt stop.

Only, the momentum you had was enough to throw off of your feet.

"Ack-" You fell backwards, grabbing for whatever you could to break your fall. And you managed to grab something. Or someone. You latched onto Yuta's arm and pulled him down with you.

"Why'd you drag me down??" Yuta pushed himself up with a smile.

"You're the one who sabotaged me in the first place!" You pull yourself up and wipe the dust off of your clothes.

"Nope. That was all you." He chuckled.

"Whatever." You roll your eyes and keep walking again.

"... really like..." You heard faint mumbling coming from behind you. Yuta was looking away with a blush on his face.

You stop walking, turning around to face him fully. "Did you say something?"

"Nope. Nothing at all." The boy started walking faster, brushing past you.

"Suit yourself." You shrug as you jog to catch up to him.

Meanwhile, Yuta is internally cursing himself out for chickening out once again. His second failure of the night.

"You're good to shower now." You step into your room, refreshed and ready for bed.

"Okay." He grabbed his spare clothes from your closet and walked down that hall.

You were left alone with your thoughts as you heard the water running from the bathroom. It didn't take a genius to notice Yuta had been acting strange. But what was going on in his mind that he couldn't ask you for help?

As your thoughts continued to stir, you were completely oblivious to the fact that the water had stopped running and in stepped Yuta soaking hair and a towel around his neck. He immediately hopped into bed beside you, effectively pulling out your thoughts.

"Now what has you looking so serious." He smiled.

"We're best friends right?" You turn to look at him.

The boy looks at you with a confused look, like you had just said something ridiculous. "Of course we are, why?"

"You just seem so out of it today, like something's bothering you. And I just thought you'd tell me if anything was ever bothering you." You mumble.

Yuta gives you a soft look, he hadn't realized how different he was acting, or how much it bothered you. He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

"No, nothing is bothering me. I just..." He trailed off.

"Just what?" Your curiosity peaked.

"Nah, it's nothing. Don't worry about, I promise you, I'm just tired." The boy offered you a weak smile before pushing himself up and off the bed. "I'm going to dry my hair, you go to bed first, alright?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, shifting your body to lay down and pulling the blanket over your shoulders. "Fine. Goodnight."

As Yuta walked out, you were once again left with your thoughts. So many questions were swirling about in your mind. What was he trying to say earlier? Why was he giving you such mixed signals? Does he secretly hate you? And he was planning on breaking off your friendship, but felt guilty about it because you guys had known each other for so long???

All your thoughts came to a halt as you heard the door open again. You stilled yourself as you felt Yuta's weight settle beside you. He let out a heavy sigh as he made sure to pull the blanket back up to cover you fully.

He looked over your shoulder to your face, checking for any signs of consciousness. When he saw none, he leaned closer, and pressed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"I like- no- love you." He pulled away. "I'm such an idiot."

The boy settled under the blankets and fell asleep, completely unaware that you had heard the entire thing.

Third time's a charm... kind of.

Masterlist | Next

fun facts:

— you forced yuta to sit in the baby swing as you pushed him (he got stuck)

— yuta is a heavy ass sleeper

taglist: closed!

@sur-i-ki @aespaforlifersyall @camilo-uwu @butterflyqueen234 @shinsukeee @tanchosanke @meguemii @lees-chaotic-brain @you-always-made-me-blush @jayathelostdragon @chilichopsticks @polarbvnny

@frumira @sad-darksoul @hellyyy06 @rosieandthethorns @zellwa @iluv-ace @h3xi2g0n3 @morgyyyyyyy @bellaabee082 @koiir @g0rep1ty @k4romis @beaniedoodz @seventhcinema @macimcnaron @pumpkin6969 @wowowwin @neigee @someonethatisnobody @vndl-1 @yoyo-yui

@blehtotheblehtothebleh @c4ttheart @blogforblorboscreaming @creative1writings @tiredjxnna @mint129106 @mentallyunstablemanlover @anianurst @milesmorals @sleepytoges @azulsmermaidprincess @toges-cough-syrup @liveincans @jals-stuff @yievieslxt @yell-lemonade @inupibaldspot @hyssoplampflickers @lilysaltwater

[sh4wty18]

tiktok pt. 2

some of y'all have def been waiting for this one! read pt. 1 here

pairing: jake webber x reader

summary: the aftermath of hard-launching your relationship with jake through a tiktok.

cw: fluff, a little angsty, language

word count: 984 + edited

---

It’s been a couple hours since you posted the tiktok, and you’ve been petrified to check your notifications. You even kept your phone across the room from where you and Jake lie, cuddled up together in his bed. He is the big spoon, (of course), and wrapping his bicep around your tummy, pulling you in tight against his body. You fit perfectly there. Like the shape of his body was created specifically to hold yours. His head is buried into the nape of your neck, and he kisses it gently, letting you know he’s woken up from your nap. 

“Good morning, princess,” he whispers through a sleepy smile. Your fingers interlace with the hand he had resting on your stomach, and you turn your head to greet him. Your lips brush against his, and you whisper “good afternoon, sweet boy” before planting your lips firmly on his. 

You stare across the bed where your phone sits on the opposite side of the nightstand. Jake must notice this, because the next words out of his mouth are, “Have you checked yet?”

“No… Jake, I'm really nervous. What if they hate me? What if they’re mean and say… awful things about me… about us? I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not ready for this type of judgment!” 

Jake cuts you off with a kiss, effectively halting your anxiety in its tracks– a trick he had discovered months ago. “Baby, you are the most beautiful, caring, funny, and ambitious girl I know. Not to mention you’re hot as fuck! If people don’t like us together, or don’t like you, that is one-hundred percent nothing to do with you, and everything to do with them. I’m basically the luckiest guy on the planet to even get to be with you. Plus, if people say shit to you, I’ll just yell at them on stream. They’ll know to shut the fuck up. People are gonna say shit regardless, it’s always gonna be impossible to make everyone happy. But I love you, no matter what.” 

“Thanks Jakey, I love you too. You’re the best to me. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Jake kisses your neck again, and pulls your body closer to his own, “I could ask you the same thing,” he breathes into your ear, and you feel yourself blushing. “You wanna grab your phone now, baby? We can look together.” 

“I’d like that,” you pull away from him gently, and he releases his grasp on your waist, allowing you to crawl across the bed and grab your phone on the nightstand. 

Jake rolls onto his back and props himself up on his pillow a bit, saving room for you to crawl back into his arms. He relaxes his arm over your shoulders and pulls you into him, so you’re propped up as well and leaning on his shoulder. You open the tiktok app to discover millions of views on your recent post. It has surpassed 2 million views, 567k likes, as well as tens of thousands of comments. You click on the comments, the top one being from Johnnie:

johnnieguilbertreal: wait you guys are dating??

He was obviously joking, and people seemed to catch on. Some even liked the fact that you were friends with Johnnie. You scanned some of the other top comments:

user1: omgggg they look so in love🥺

user2: the way he looks at her??? ok i totally believe him and tara are done forever now

user3: and if you look closely you can see me laying on the highway!

user4: noooo tara is way prettier. this better not be real😭

user5: please tell us this isnt real @/jakewebber9

This was pretty much how most of the comment section looked. There was a lot of support and love for both you and Jake, but there was also a lot of hate. You immediately turned off your phone. “I don’t wanna look anymore,” you say, tears welling in your eyes. 

“Oh, baby,” Jake says sadly. He’s used to this. He’s been on the internet for years, and knows what it’s like. But you haven’t, and he knows this. “I don’t even know what to say, I hate seeing you like this. I’m starting to wish we never even posted the video. I’m so proud of you and us, that I just thought everyone would see what I see in you. I forget what a shitty place the internet is. This is all my fault.”

“No it isn’t,” you respond. “I’m so proud to be your girlfriend, and I wanted to post it. I’m still glad we did… It’s just hard to have so many people hate me. They don’t even know me.”

“Is there anything I can do to help you, princess?” he asks, he genuinely wants to help, but doesn’t know how. 

“Just… be here with me?” you ask.

“Of course. I’ll always be here with you.” he slides back down to lay on his back, and pulls you on top of him, fully embracing you. 

You wrap your legs around his sides, and reciprocate the embrace around his arms, laying your head against his chest. His heart beats softly in your ear, calming you. Your breaths steady, in and out, and eventually you lean up to face Jake, who peppers kisses all over your face. 

He pulls away to study you with a curious look in his eye, “God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes I look at your face, and I know. I just know there’s no fucking way I’ll ever love another person the way I love you.” 

Your eyes well up again, this time from a feeling of pure and overwhelming joy, not sadness. “I love you so much,” you whisper. 

You press your lips to his, and it is as if pieces of your souls are being transferred to one another. You will always be tethered.

---

i hope you all enjoyed! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[g1rld1ary]

tell me when you're sober ; sirius black x gn!gryffindor!reader

➻ yayay my first sirius fic !!

➻ word count: 2042

➻ synopsis: drunk at a house party, sirius calls the reader and confesses something he shouldn't have

➻ warnings: mentions of alcohol & being drunk, swearing, a little angst (maybe??), happy ending, kissing, gn pronouns (lmk if I've missed any!)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were lying on your bed at home, content with your cozy night in. The newest Ella Fitzgerald record playing softly from the corner; a candle burning on your nightstand. You’d completed an extensive self care routine, feeling fresh, healthy and calm as you settled into your newest novel — a romance that had you dreaming of one of your closest friends.

Sirius Black was one of your best friends in the whole world. Both being Gryffindors, you had pretty much grown up together, and somewhere along the way you’d developed feelings for him against your will. But how could you not? He was beautiful, charming, and always managed to make you laugh; even the longest nights studying in the common room weren’t quite as tedious when he was hanging around — as much as you’d complain about him ‘bothering’ you. Whilst you knew he wouldn’t ever reciprocate your feelings and you would remain just friends, you were mostly content with that fact. You were filled with the type of love for him that was somewhat satisfied as long as you could express it, regardless of if it was under the guise of platonic affection. Still, that resignation didn’t stop you from imagining Sirius as the love interest in the novels you read; reciting poetry and executing grand gestures in your head.

The phone ringing down the hall brought you from your daze, and you tried to focus on the words written on the page until your mother knocked on your bedroom door, saying the call was for you. Curiously, you crawled out of bed, straightening your pyjamas as you hurried to the phone attached to the wall just outside of the kitchen.

“Hello?” You didn’t know what to expect, but your face softened to a smile when you heard the reply.

“My gorgeous y/n!” Sirius sang, consonants slightly slurred. You knew your friends were at a house party tonight, one that you’d politely declined despite Sirius’ insistence in you being there. It wasn’t your scene, and the group had organised a quieter games night at James’ place the night after, so you weren’t worried about missing too much.

“What are you doing, Black? Shouldn’t you be dancing on a table somewhere?” You teased, laughing lightly at the memory of one party you did attend, and the absolute fool Sirius had made of himself to Bennie and the Jets. He hummed in agreement.

“I was. But I wanted to talk to my favourite person — ‘ve missed you.”

“You’re seeing me tomorrow, Sirius. I’m sure you can hold on sixteen more hours?” You could practically see Sirius shaking his head no, childish pout on his lips. That was how you knew he was pretty drunk, he always got whiny and overly affectionate.

“But that’s with everyone, I miss you,” You both loved and hated when he flirted with you like this; you knew it was a joke but it still made you weak in the knees. “Tell me about your day.” You sighed, knowing that it was chatting to him or worrying about the dumb inebriated decisions he would no doubt make, so you started.

You gave him a run through of your day, sliding down the wall to be in a seated position as you realised it would probably be a long call. You told him about the summer deep clean you’d powered through and the subsequent self care night you had definitely earned. He listened intently, and you could occasionally hear him hum into the phone or interject with a one word response, just so you knew he was paying attention. You’d launched into a recap of your novel so far when you realised he hadn’t spoken in several minutes. Worrying he’d passed out or lost interest in your ramblings you tapered off.

“Sirius? You there?” He hummed an affirmation. “Oh. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s just…” He trailed off and you frowned, holding the silence so he’d continue. “I love you.”

You sighed in relief. You two, and the rest of the friendship group, said ‘I love you’ all the time, it was never something to be apprehensive about.

“You know I love you too, Black. I’m still on the phone aren’t I?” You laughed, twirling the yellow cord around your freshly painted (but almost definitely dry) fingers. You heard him groan over the phone and faltered again.

“No, y/n. I’m fucking in love with you.”

You almost dropped the phone you were so surprised. You felt your heart beating against your chest, both in excitement and panic. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Maybe Remus had broken his promise and told Sirius about your crush on him and this was all some kind of sick joke. Sirius Black was not in love with you — you had seen him grinding and making out with Marissa from the year above at the end of year party, and that was only a few weeks ago. All the possible joy that had crept into the edges of your heart was extinguished, and instead anger bloomed, spreading to the tips of your fingers, which brought the receiver back up to your face.

“Hang up and tell me when you’re sober.” With that you slammed the phone back on the wall, hot tears building behind your eyes, threatening to fall. You stumbled blindly back into your bedroom, both red hot rage and crushing sadness obscuring your vision.

Safely in bed, you let the tears fall. How dare he? You were the one who had pined after him for years, made peace with the fact that you would never hear those words out of his mouth for you, and for what? For him to rip out your heart because he was drunk and bored? Did he think it was funny? Did he even know what he was doing to you? You sobbed into the stuffed dog Sirius had given you for your last birthday, before the anger resurfaced and you launched it across the room, slamming your head into the pillow as the toy made a dull thud against the wall.

You almost didn’t go to James’ game night the next evening. You reasoned it would just be too humiliating, Sirius would crow about the girl he had hooked up with after you’d ended the call — or even worse make fun of you about the supposed confession. No, you were more than ready to call in sick and spend the night pitying yourself over a fat bowl of ice cream. However, when James called around midday begging you to bring your ‘world famous’ white chocolate brownies “And your sweet face, of course,” how could you refuse? And so you got dressed in your confidence outfit; pulling your hair into your favourite style. You needed all the help you could get today.

Standing in front of James’ door you sucked in a breath. Trying to put an easy smile on your face, it faltered when Sirius was the one to welcome you inside. He grinned when he saw you, which made the flicker of anger spark once more. How could he act like he didn’t just say he was in love with you?

“Hey everyone, y/n’s here!” He called, and you could the hear the stampede of footsteps as your friends all came out to greet you. Your smile returned involuntarily as Remus pulled you into a strong hug, which was copied by each of the girls. James, conversely, dropped to the floor in a position of worship as you presented the tray of brownies.

You all sat around the fire, chatting easily as James painstakingly set up the game of Monopoly in front of you.

“Man, I don’t remember a thing from last night,” Sirius said, reclining back in an armchair. Everyone laughed but you, and you fought with your brain to keep your features relaxed as you stared at him.

“Be grateful for that,” Lily laughed, counting out game money in piles. “You made an utter tool of yourself.”

“Yeah, rambling about Merlin knows what all bloody night; you were nonsensical,” Marlene teased and you cast your eyes down to study your fingers, picking at the already chipping polish. That’s why Sirius had acted like nothing was wrong, he didn’t even remember he’d said it. Only you were left with your whole world changed, and the bastard didn’t even have to suffer the memories of it. Suddenly you were overcome with the urge to take the beer Peter was offering you, downing half the bottle in two gulps.

“What’s got you all riled up, love?” Remus asked and you stuttered, unable of course to tell him the truth. Eyeing James’ finished set up you created a lie.

“Getting ready to dominate you all in Monopoly, duh.”

After that night, you couldn’t face Sirius. You weren’t avoiding him, per se, you could never do that. But you weren’t making any effort to see him, and you were proud of that self restraint. At dinners you’d sit next to your other friends, not looking at him unless he addressed you directly. Between classes you’d take off without waiting for him, claiming you were already stressed about the workload. Your friends could tell something was wrong, but no one could figure out what — seemingly not even Sirius.

Until one Friday night. It was unusually quiet, no parties planned or adventures to be had, and so you and your friends had taken over the Gryffindor common room, laughing and talking over the radio and the crackling of the fireplace.

“Firewhiskey, Pads?” James offered, but Sirius shook his head.

“Not tonight.” He smiled, sparing a casual glance to you. You weren’t looking at him, pretending to be engrossed in Lily’s conversation, but you couldn’t help but be slightly concerned. When did Sirius ever turn down a drink? Especially on a Friday night. You shook your head slightly, it wasn’t your problem anymore, you were still mad at him.

Eventually the night wound down, everyone heading back up to their respective dorm room one by one, tired out by the week. When you look up from the novel you’d been engrossed in for the past half hour, you were shocked by the fact that it was just you and Sirius left. Stranger than that was that Sirius wasn’t even doing anything, just staring blankly at the fire as his leg bounced aggressively.

You got up quickly, collecting your things in the attempt of a smooth escape. No such luck. Sirius stood to stop you and you stepped back carefully.

“What are you doing, Sirius?” You asked, forcefully avoiding his steely gaze.

“I’m in love with you.” You faltered, meeting his eyes to search for hidden meaning. You found none.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, stupid. And I’m sure as hell sober right now, you can ask anyone.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you realised what all this meant. He had told the truth on that phone call and you had not only hung up on him, but also got mad and avoided him. Despite his feelings being more than reciprocated. The burning anger that had made a home in your stomach recently dissolved into butterflies, and a smile grew. Sirius relaxed as he saw your body language change, and chanced a tentative step towards you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Your eyes shone in the firelight and Sirius couldn’t help but pull you closer towards him, arms wrapped around your waist.

“I thought, I mean I was worried—” You cut him off by holding his cheeks in your palms, pressing a soft kiss on his lips, one which he hungrily chased. You laughed and indulged him, the two of you holding each other carefully, lips moving slowly, exploring the other.

“Just so we’re clear,” You teased, “I’m pretty in love with you too, Black.”