#look i'm tired and this tickled my brain

[jellibelli123]

@flickering-nightfall It would appear that I too have le brainrot (volume is low rip)

To other eyes, hi *click click* go check @flickering-nightfall blog out to find the rest of the amazing fanart this came from 🔫 🐦 im just a goober birb with a giggle

[thesweetestofdreams]

hot chocolate

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (852 words)

warnings: should be none, just a little stress cry/ burnout

a/n: Do I like this? I have no idea. The boys help to comfort you on a late night that has you stressed.

Reaching out to his left, James expects to find your warmth. Instead all he feels are empty sheets. The fuzziness of sleep threatens to pull him back down, but your absence keeps him up. 

He pads through your small apartment doing his best not to wake your boyfriends still sleeping behind him. The small spike of panic he felt at not finding you eases as he finally does. 

You've got your back to him, typing away at your computer at the kitchen table. 

"And I'm the one not allowed to have coffee after six," he says softly once he's closer. You hardly glance at him, still typing. "Love," he says, a hand gently coming to cover yours. "Do you know how late it is?" 

Your heart melts as you finally look at him. He's rubbing sleep from his eyes, knocking his glasses off kilter. He looks warm and soft around the edges. It's enticing but your work's not going to do itself. "I'll come to bed in just a minute, Jamie. I should really finish this." 

He points at the time on your computer, 3:48 blares at you and you realize how much your eyes sting from staring at the screen. "Come on," he says, his grip now a soft tug at your wrist. 

"Just let me finish this paragraph." You're trying to bargain, having the feeling you'll probably lose. 

"It can wait, love." He's looking at you with soft eyes and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. You hear shuffling behind you. Now you're really in for it.

Remus comes into view, his oversized shirt- probably one of James’- askew on his shoulders, followed by a scowling Sirius. “How dare you make us go on a man-hunt at three in the morning.” Sirius crosses his arms trying to look angry, but he still comes up to rest his chin on your shoulder. His nose tickles your cheek, “Let’s go to bed my love.”

Remus walks further into the kitchen of your tiny apartment. You remember the day you moved in, you ate ramen over a cardboard box as a kitchen table. Now as he stands across the table from you Remus reaches over to slowly close your laptop. 

You stop him halfway, and he gives you a knowing look. “I’m really not tired, honestly I won't be able to sleep until I finish this,” you say quickly returning to typing. 

Remus sighs, looking to James for help, but it’s Sirius who comes to his aid. “Well then I guess we’re all staying up,” Sirius says, his chin digging into your shoulder and sleep muddling his words, “but when I wake up with dark circles that’s on you.”

“No go to bed, I won’t be long.” You try to focus on your work, but Sirius worms his arms under yours, wrapping around you. “Siri, please.” Your head is starting to hurt from forcing your eyes to stay open, and the warmth coming off of him only makes the fight harder. 

“What are you doing, Remus?” you ask, hearing the kitchen cabinets open and close. 

“I’m making hot chocolate.” He grabs your favorite mug from the cabinet followed by three more. 

“You don’t have to do that Rem.” Your eyes are still stinging.

“I already opened the packet.” He says it with a finality that tells you, you’ve hardly any choice in the matter.

“I’ll get the marshmallows,” James adds, sounding far too excited for this time of night. 

Before you can stop it your eyes fill with tears, blurring your computer screen. You hide your face in your hands. “Are you okay, love?” Sirius asks, suddenly sounding much more awake. You can’t stop it as much as you want to, your tears flow leaving your boyfriends flustering to help you. 

“Dove.” Remus kneels beside you. “Let’s take a break, yeah? It can wait until tomorrow.” 

You hear the soft click of your computer shutting as you nod. James holds your hand across the table. “You’re all too nice to me,” you say, it comes out half laugh half sob. 

“All that work is scrambling your brain,” Sirius says, squeezing your shoulders.

You let Remus pull you to the couch where he brushes stray tears from your cheeks. You melt into his side. He plants soft kisses into your hair. 

James and Sirius come with cups of hot chocolate almost overflowing with marshmallows. The cups are soon abandoned as the rich chocolate threatens to drag you all to sleep right on the spot. 

When you eventually make it to bed through fits of yawns and tired shuffling, you realize you’re finally exactly where you want to be. Sirius falls asleep practically on top of James.

Remus pulls the blanket to your chin. “Too nice,” he laughs quietly to himself. You swat at his arm. As you fall asleep, he listens to the rise and fall of your breath. You deserve all the niceness of the world, and he would make hot chocolate in the middle of every night if it meant you felt even a bit of it.

[ynbabe]

Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2.

Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'

Charles:

"Wanna nap?" You asked the man as soon as he stepped into his hotel room, tired and eyes red. You knew Ferrari wasn't some winter wonderland but you didn't know why Charles put up with it.

You had been close friends with the man, since before he'd started f3 too, you knew he bled Ferrari red but this wasn't bleeding this was suicide.

Nonetheless, you were there for him, every weekend, only today there wasn't much to do, he had just come back from some meetings. He looked at you and hummed, taking off team-issued merch and throwing himself on the bed beside you.

You turned on some sad Adele song and faded into sleep, holding the boy close to you, his head resting on the curve of your neck.

Carlos:

"Wanna nap?" You asked Carlos as you both walked into his drivers' room, it was early in the morning at the Las Vegas GP and just as the year before they had messed up the timings and the drivers had to wait till four-thirty in the morning to get on with the programme.

Knowing the both of you, you were sure if you hadn't extended the offer the both of you would have ended up doom-scrolling through Netflix looking for some show to watch fighting off sleep.

"What?" He asked, shocked at the offer for a second before raising his browns and winking at you, "You finally feel my charm didn't you?" he laughed as he climbed onto the small and rickety bed next to you. "Smooth operator strikes again," he praised himself, pulling you close to him, enveloping you in his arms as the big spoon.

You groaned and kicked his shin, making him complain, "Dude you're so fucking lame!" You made fun of the older man who only replied with terrorism (tickling you,) "S-top, stop, I'm sorry," you laughed, trying to escape the death grip he had on you, eventually getting him to stop.

He let you catch your breath as he set an alarm, before trapping you in his warm arms again, both drifting into a comfortable sleep.

Lando:

It was way past midnight but you couldn't sleep, unable to get yourself out of the party high, too drunk to rest your brain. Thankfully you weren't the only one.

There was a barrage of knocks on your hotel room, a slurred voice with a British accent begging to be let in. "Y/n/nnnnn, I can't sleep," he cried once in the room, stumbling over nothing as you both made your way to your bed.

You giggled as he fell, brushing his hands over the cold blanket. You joined him, crawling onto the bed slowly as the room around you spun. You laid on your back, clinging onto the bed for dear life.

Lando noticed and piled on top of you, making you raise a question brow. "So you don't fall off," he muttered, his face buried in your chest.

"Ohhhh, that makes sense," you said, understanding his thought process as the spinning slowed down. "We should nap," you said out loud, eyes shutting due to the comforting warm weight on top of you.

Lando hummed in return, wrapping his hands around your waist, as you pulled one hand up to his and another grabbing his curls for extra support.

Oscar:

There were two things everyone knew about Oscar, he hated waking up early and he loved sleeping. So when his trainer woke him up on a perfectly cosy yet cool Monday morning to exercise, he nearly wanted to kill the man, only stopping because that would take much more effort than simply going through with the workout.

Your apartment was closer to the gym than his, so he happily invited himself in to bitch and moan about his trainer and how that man must have hated him.

Rolling at your friend's antics, you pushed away your laptop, walking from the dining table to where he was sitting on your sofa.

"Wanna nap?" You had barely finished your question when you were pulled onto the Australian.

"I thought you'd never ask," he whispered, as he shuffled on the narrow sofa to get comfortable, you still on top of him, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face buried in his neck.

"Are you using me as a teddy bear?" You asked incredulously, trying to get up to no avail as the man's grip on you was far too strong.

"Yes, now let me sleep," he murmured, already half gone.

George:

George had a habit of pushing himself too far, ever since he was a child. When you guys had just newly become friends, the boy had spent hours trying to find out what exactly you liked and didn't, stalking your Instagram and your family's Facebook.

You had found it endearing but also concerning how he always wanted to be perfect. So when you walked into his house at midnight (you got a key made- there's a reason the both of you got along so well,) and found him staring unblinkingly at his laptop and a large mess of papers spread across the wooden coffee table.

"Dude, what is wrong with you," You whisper-yelled at the man making him jump, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Me? What is wrong with you?" He yelled, panting as you jumped over the back of the couch, sitting right next to him, ruffling through the papers much to his chagrin.

"Shut it, Georgie boy," you smirked at him using the nick name he hated. “What are you even doing, it’s so late?” You asked looking at the taller man who started off in a rant about the car and everything he was doing wrong, making you slide down on the sofa till you head was resting on the backrest. You lifted your feet up to rest them on the coffee table, making George rush to move a stack of papers so they wouldn’t be under your feet.

Perfect. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and made his head rest on your lap.

“What on earth are you doing!” He yelled more than asked, trying to get up but you doubled down.

“George you need to sleep,” you deadpanned as he tried to make you let him go, knowing his pleas fell on deaf ears he gave up.

You raised your brow, “wanna nap?” You asked teasing the boy.

“Only for a few minutes,” he pressed, making himself comfortable, while you tangled your fingers in his hair, “maybe more then,” he sighed and let his eyes shut, slightly watering and finally fell asleep.

Lewis

Lewis had never been a friend to you, he was more like an annoying yet caring older brother or like a fun uncle of sorts. The man was fiercely protective of his friends, even those whom he saw in animosity.

But you were different, Lewis would steal your coffee, eat your food, and push you around but he'd also sneak you Red Bull (much to his disgust,) into his driver's room during late races, walk you to your hotel room after parties and get you souvenirs from races you couldn't be at. Similarly, you loved to annoy the man, stealing his expensive jackets, which looked hilarious due to the size difference, stealing his headphones and running away with them and most importantly coming to him with your problems day or night.

So no, Lewis wasn't surprised when you showed up to his driver's room in the middle of the day, even though Toto had revoked your pass for the day (for bullying George, but it was worth it,). He was ready to tease you but then he saw your eyes, red and tears flowing down your face.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He immediately came up to you, giving you a once-over to see if you were injured. "Did someone say something, are you hurt?" He asked panicking at your silence. You simply wrapped your arms around the older man, hiding your face in his chest, quietly sobbing and sniffling.

He walked you both to the sofa in his room, seating you down, trying to wipe your tears, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked as you finally calmed down, using his arm as support to sit up.

You cleared your throat, "No, I just wanna nap," you hiccuped slightly.

"Okay," he leaned back so you could rest your head on his shoulder, giving you one of his airpods to relax, which you gladly accepted.

Lance & Fernando (they aren't always gonna be together but the situations... THE SITUATIONS WRITE THEMSELVES)

"Oh honey that’s not," Lance said pointing to your coloured hair (matching with Alex) and thats how the conversation had started and had ended in a cat fight.

“At least I’m not a nepo baby,” you yelled as you threw a basket of oranges at him, which he dodged, darn those f1 reflexes. The basket itself smacked him square in the face, leaving a red indent across his nose. He glared for a second before jumping over the table you were fighting across and pulled your hair. “Owww, you bitch”

You bit his hands in defence, to which he kicked your shin, screaming you launched yourself at him, crashing the both of you to the ground, “oh my god, okay, truce, truce,” he panted, pushing you off him.

“Just so you can catch your breath,” you retorted making him mock you. In reality, you were definitely much more tired than he was. You were struggling to catch your breath, your head killing you where he grabbed a large chunk of your hair.

You turned to look at him, resting your head on his stretched arm, he was massaging his nose, the bruise turning purple now, “well that was fun,” he turned to face you.

“Sooooo fun,” you rolled your eyes, “wanna nap? My heads killing me,” you are far him in accusation but he glared right back pointing to his swollen nose.

“Sure,” he shrugged, shifting closer to you and closing his eyes. You opened your mouth to make a joke but were interrupted, “there are like a million oranges on the floor right now, I’ll throw one at you,” you accepted defeat and fell into a comfortable sleep.

That’s how Fernando found the both of you, slightly scowling but fast asleep, he took a picture for blackmail’s sake and placed a blanket over the two of you.

PT-2 w/ Max, Logan, Alex, Daniel, Yuki, Pierre, Esteban, Zhou.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Reading While Cockwarming Them

Warnings: MDNI, PIV, general sex, teasing, some name calling and sadism in Geto's part. A/n: Found an old WIP that I half wrote then gave up on because I couldn't find the inspiration. I'm glad I got back into it because I almost feel like my JJK writing has become rusty nowadays, and I'm thrilled to find some ideas that might still feel new.

The book is open on the bed, right under your pretty, flushed face as you kneel on all fours, Satoru’s cock nestled comfortably in your slick pussy. 

Your mouth is moving, and you see the little black characters on the page, but your speech is slurred and syrupy as you try to form intelligible sounds. 

“The…he-he-ro…isn…ways…to…”

“What’s that baby?” Satoru taunts as he slides out of your drooling cunt, all patience and sweet smiles. He feels how your walls clench in protest as you try to keep him in, his tip almost out of your tight, wet, hole.

“Toru please…” you whine, knowing his enticing length was right there, but he was getting off on seeing you swallow your words. Determination that had been ample in hand at the beginning of this session had now gone flying out the window. You just had to insist that Satoru couldn’t fuck you dumb with his cock, denying his claims, and now you’re forced to swallow your pride as you realize you can’t focus on a damn thing. The letters all look like squiggles to you and your tongue refuses to cooperate, only allowing you to pant and babble nonsense.

“You’re the one that said you would read me a bedtime story.” He arches his hips away from you as he feels you lift your ass, hoping to slip him back in. “And so far I can’t understand a word you’re saying. I’m hoping this helps.”

You moan in frustration and try to focus your hazed mind on the print. “The hero isn’t always right. As told in the story we’re about to embark on-” Your breath hitches as Satoru glides back into your warmth as you started to read. The hot length of his cock spreads you apart so invitingly messing with your head.

“Oh don’t feel like you have to stop on my account sweetheart. Keep going. Just testing how deep I need to go before you start going dumb again.” Not very deep based on his observations. He’s barely halfway sheathed and your speech had already become halting and incorrigible. He slips out slightly and you clear your throat trying to not to sob and admit defeat. 

“Our story takes place in a time of old and ooohhh…” The sensual groan leaves you unrestrained as he pushes further in.

“Hmm so about three fourths of the way,” Satoru muses, looking at how much of him was buried inside you. “Keep reading. Trying to fine tune this pussy. I was promised a bedtime story.”

He starts to thrust slowly, letting you feel each inch of him as he withdraws before sliding back in, never bottoming out and leaving you aching with the knowledge that you're only half full. You're not even trying to focus on the words now, just moaning and knowing you'll likely have to let him win if you wanted anything tonight. 

“Satoru please…” You whine as he starts to drag his fingers along your moist slit, finding your bud and circling it expertly. 

“Aw. No bedtime story for me tonight?” he asks mockingly as he draws out a moan from you. You shake your head and he grins triumphantly. “Next time then. We'll train your pussy to not disconnect from your brain.”

Kento can’t stand the thought of not having physical intimacy. Cockwarming was his way of reconnecting, of being able to touch you, feel your soft skin and the warmth of your body, even if he was too tired for sex. 

The bed is so inviting, and your back rests against his chest as his cock pulses with life inside you. Warm sheets are wrapped around your bodies as you sit on his thighs with a book on your lap. Kento's chin rests on your shoulder as you read, his eyes tracking the words as the story flows from your lips, his breath tickling your neck. The atmosphere in the room is almost balmy as his hands massage yours, fingers molding to the spaces in between. Your pussy occasionally clenches around his velvety cock, enjoying the way he filled and stretched the space inside. 

“Are you paying attention?” You tease and pat his cheek to draw his attention back to the story. His large hands had started to wander from yours and were flirting with your ribcage, cradling your breasts in his palms and squeezing enticingly. After a long day, the massage felt more relaxing than arousing and you indulge him for a moment before asking again. “Kento…the story.”

“I am paying attention darling. It looks like our protagonist accidentally discovered something he wasn’t supposed to.” He thumbs your nipples, which had already pebbled from the squeezing, through the sheets and you throw your head back onto his shoulder, biting your lip and letting out a hushed sigh. Your juices had steadily dripped from your core and were pooling at the base of his cock, leaving a ring of wetness on his hard shaft.

“Are you sleepy?” Kento’s lips ghost the shell of your ear and you mumble a tired yes. His chuckle resonates in your ear, deep and rich, and he takes the book away and places it on the nightstand. “It’s all right,” he reassures you as he starts to lay you both down on the bed. “We can find out what happens tomorrow.” He rearranges the sheets while you settle your head down comfortably on the pillow. Sleep overtakes you quickly but you can feel Kento pressing little kisses down your neck.

“Do you mind…?” He whispers, and your half-awake brain manages to slur a yes. You knew what he was asking, and you honestly didn’t mind. His snug cock thrusts ever so sweetly inside you as he tries not to rouse you too much from sleep, breathing steadily into your hair as he tries to orgasm.

The slick heat from being inside you for so long helps in his efforts, lazily stroking your inner walls at an unhurried pace. Your languid body barely stirs as he sets up a deliciously slow pace, quiet squelches issuing from your pussy as he rocks his hips against your ass. He bites his lip as he nears his climax, letting out a muffled groan as his hot cum is released into your warm canal. 

“Darling…focus…” His clever fingers which were playing with your pulsing clit halt, and his cock, snug in your pussy, remains there, barely providing any friction. You whine and look at him pleadingly but he tuts at you, waving the little study booklet in front of your face. “Can you repeat what I was saying?”

Why had you agreed to let him help you study for the bar? Your lawyer boyfriend, so sinfully handsome and smart, was obviously worried about your progress. He accused you of getting too distracted, and the solution was to force you to study with nothing but distractions, hoping to improve your recall abilities. 

What he hadn’t specified was that it would involve sitting on your bed with his cock stuffed in your pussy  while you straddled him, repeating little vocabulary definitions and basic terms of law. Your poor, sloppy, pussy couldn’t stop dribbling, spilling all over him, as you tried to recall the words.

He smirks at your hazy expression, seeing your mind trying to gather itself back into a cohesive state. “Well?” he prompts you again. “Can you explain the concept of intent for this?”

“Ah…” your mind is fuzzy as your walls clench around his cock, still hard inside you. How long had he been doing this? “Mmm…intent…matters because…” Because why? Why did it matter? All that mattered was fucking. Fucking him, riding him, getting filled to the brim with his seed. 

“Tsk. Oh honey. You're never going to pass the bar at this rate.” His hands firmly hook themselves underneath your fleshy thighs. “Now repeat after me.”

He begins to pick up your frame, easing you off his cock before loosening his hands and letting you fall back into his throbbing erection with force, your ass cheeks slapping his thighs as you slide down all the way to his base. 

"It. matters. because. The. Mental. state. Of. a. client. Affects. Our. Ability. To. Prove their. Innocence.”

Each word is punctuated with his hands picking you up and letting you slide, the sound of your ass pounding back into his lap echoing through the room. Each time, the bulbous, mushroom head of his cock kisses your cervix and you swear you're seeing stars each time. You sob each time, your cunt squelching as it takes him all the way in, desperate for an orgasm that wasn't likely to happen. 

“Hiro… Please… Need to cum… study later…”

“You'll never improve if you can't study through the distractions.” His eyes are hooded and dark, barely able to restrain himself from wanting to fuck your brains out until you're spilling all over his thighs. Oh the sight of you, struggling to remember basic words, thoughts too occupied with his cock to remember even the most basic concepts relating to your job. 

“Tell ya what. I'll give you a scenario. If you can explain intent based on that I'll give you an orgasm. How's that?”

You look at him hopefully, still shivering from the intensity of his last movements, and nod. 

“Explain the intent behind a young woman who invites her boyfriend over to help her study for the bar but decides to answer the door in just her underwear.”

Oh the bastard. Feeling your patience snap you admit your motive.

“Clearly she wanted to get fucked nice and good but her boyfriend is a naive moron who really thought she wanted to go over flashcards.” 

“You’ve got the flash part down spectacularly darling.” Hiromi fondles your nipples and you whine, your cunt clenching around him like a vice. 

“Hiro please…”

“I suppose I could count that as an acceptable answer. Nice work.” He spanks your ass in appreciation. “Admission of guilt always helps. Now show me how you plan to alleviate it.”

Your boyfriend was mean. You hadn’t really noticed it until just now. He was more of the type to tease you than anything else. Until you had suggested reading to him while sitting on his cock. 

For some reason, you had assumed he was going to be sweet about it. You hadn’t anticipated how hard he would make this for you. Your lips tremble and you’re a quivering mess as you hold up the book with shaky hands. Tears streak your cheeks as you try again, feeling Suguru’s thumb relentlessly playing with your clit, depriving you of just enough stimulation to keep you focused. 

“T-t-t-the for-forest i-is the…” You wet your lips trying to concentrate. “The fas-test way to the…hi-hi-hidden-”

“Too slow.” You squeal as Geto spanks your already swollen clit, the sting bringing back clarity to your senses. “I thought you were better than this. Are you so fucked out on my cock that you’re taking an hour to read a sentence?” The harsh slap of his hand on your wet folds makes them pulse and you squirm, and you close your legs to avoid the reprimand.

“Tsk. You really are a dumb whore right now.” A cry leaves your lips as he harshly pinches your nipple, twisting it cruelly. “Who told you to close your legs? You seemed pretty confident when spreading them open for me earlier.” Sniffing, you reluctantly part your legs and then let out a noise of discomfort as he slaps the little bud again. 

“Suguru…” you whimper pathetically only to have him roughly rub your clit again.

“Suguru.” He mimics in a high-pitched mocking tone. “What, you thought I would sit here all night while you take your sweet time? You haven’t even finished a page yet. Your cunt is going to be as empty as your brain if you don’t get it together.”

You whine and try again. “The solder…wanted to raid the amry… to get a sard- OUCH!” Suguru gave you a truly hard whack that sent you reeling, a confusing haze of pain and pleasure running through your body like an electric shock.

“What was that? Are you sure that’s even a word?” Slap. “Solder?” Slap. “Amry?” Slap. “Sard?” Slap. “The words are soldier, armory, and sword you stupid slut.” Each spank to your clit is punctuated with a yelp of pain from you. 

“Suguru! I’m sorry please-!” 

He pulls the book from your grip and tosses it aside. “This is why little whores shouldn’t try to brag about talents they don’t possess. Now why don’t you showcase the only real skill you have and cum on my cock like the desperate little cocksleeve you know you are?”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@aether-seawolf @makingtimemine @snwvie @facelessfionna

@theimmortalbuns @sweets-kozume @supernaturalbaesduh

@marusatonanhin @pwd54gr54 @brekkersgf

[dutiful-wildcraft]

This one is for all my retail pals

John Price has never worked retail in his life and it shows.

Price x reader, meetcute? if this qualifies

-

You're scrambling, have been since you walked through the door. They were already calling your name by the time you clicked your radio on.

From that moment forward you were hustling back and forth across the store, helping who you could, pulling orders for customer pick ups, trying to answer questions for the seasonal team members who got thrown to the wolves with slap dash training. 

You're tired, you're hungry, and you've been listening to the same 5 christmas songs on repeat since the 1st of November. 

You're trying to make it back to the break room for a quick snack, walking at mach speed, head lowered, praying that those you passed could see the sheer overwhelmed energy radiating off of you in waves and not ask you anything.

But there is always one.

“Excuse me!”

Your blood pressure shoots up immediately. 

You stop short, try to school your expression into something friendly. He's a big man, shoulders wide enough to fill a doorway, with mutton chops that strike you as odd, but suit his face. The man hustles toward you, holding an expensive jacket out to you like a toddler.

“Can you tell me the price of this?”

Everyone thinks you have a scanner.

The chops age him, but a closer look reveals that he must only be a little older than you, pretty blue eyes scrunched apologetically. You think this grown ass man should be old enough to see the scanners staged on every other aisle, the big signs attached to the ceiling highlighting their location. Irritation wells up like a geyser as you pull the garment from his hand searching for a tag. 

You search and search, even fishing around in the pocket to see if some kind soul accidentally yanked it off and put it back.

“Must be free!” Chops chuckles, and you think you should be able to pass out one free throat punch a day for simply working under these conditions. 

It takes effort, not to shrivel up like a raisin over the monotonous comment. Trying desperately to focus on finding the fucking price and ignore the way the big bastard bores holes into your face. He could have looked it up on his phone, you're certain, but instead he's standing a little too close, watching you flounder, at least his cologne is nice. 

A painful silence falls between you when you don't even giggle at his joke. But you must have a scrap of patience left in you because the angel of good will tugs on your ear, reminds you that not everyone stares at this shit day in and day out like you do, and he probably would have trouble finding it online anyway. 

You suck in a deep breath, fish out your own phone to pull up your company's website. 

“M'sorry for the trouble sweetheart” he murmurs, rolling almost sheepishly on his heels, hands reaching at his shoulders as if to grab something that isn't there, falling uselessly at his sides as he hovers over your shoulder. 

The pet name should piss you off, but the rumbly timber of it tickles you somewhere in your monkey brain, he is a handsome thing, and something about the way he crosses his arms, peers over your shoulder like this was a problem he's helping you solve is kind of endearing. 

You feel bad immediately for your bitchy attitude toward the fella. 

“Sorry It's taking a second, I'm trying” 

“I can see that, I appreciate you. I know you lot are busy, think I've seen you make a few laps now.” he teases, nodding to the bustle of people about the store, rummaging through once neatly folded tables like it's a yardsale. 

You type in the style number with a little amused huff. “You have no idea, I get in miles trotting around this place” you joke, scrolling through site’s workwear options to match the jacket in your hand. It's one of the nicer one's the store carries, a sturdy brown canvas with a fleece lined collar and interior. You try to make small talk that you're notoriously terrible at.

“You must work outside.” 

“Something like that” he muses, “been meaning to get the house prepped up for winter, I waited a bit late.”

You snort, “Hell me too, I barely have enough wood left for the stove myself, I'm just going to pile on blankets this winter!”

“Well that won't do.” 

The hard tone of Chop's voice breaks you from your searching. A quick glance confirms he's serious, brows pinched as his posture has shifted to looking directly at you. Chin tucked to his chest.

“What?” 

“You've got no one taking care of you?”

Nosy fuck. You don't know why you get defensive. “I take care of me just fine.” you retort confidently, finally pulling up the stupid jacket and telling him the price. 

“Negative.” is all he replies, looking at you with the same stern gaze. You suddenly feel like a child, wanting more than anything to prove to this man you were more than qualified to handle yourself. You work retail for fucks sake.

He cuts you off before you can smart off again. “You're going to write down that number for the coat, and your number, so I can bring a load of lumber by. I won't have a pretty thing like shiverin’ in the night.”

Something inside your brain purrs at the idea. The idea of somebody looking out for you when you barely have time to keep your clothes washed and body fed was…appealing. Especially coming from a pretty gorgeous stranger. And yet?

“I'm not giving my number to a stranger, sir.” you retort with some semblance of authority. 

Chops is having none of it, he makes a pointed show of raking his eyes down to your nametag dangling against your chest before flickering back up to your face. Your name rolls off his tongue easily, and you can't help the little shiver up your spine at the timber of it.

“John Price” he offers after, big paw curling around your own to shake playfully. “Not strangers now are we?”

[emilys-bangs]

I can't read you (but if you want, the pleasure's all mine) | e.p

Tags: flirty!emily, shy!hotch's assistant!reader, fluff, hint of angst?, implied that emily isn't sleeping well :[, worried reader (duh), emily calls reader petnames, emily is down BAD

Summary: Emily loiters around in your office for no good reason.

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: I'm not sure if the idea of Hotch's assistant reader belongs to a single person, but I take no credit for it, I got inspired to write my own after reading @/mariasont's absolutely fabulous bimbo!assistant series, so very many thanks to her!! (and if there are any hotch girlies around here go check it out). Alsoo I think I'm probably gonna add a few more parts to this as interconnected oneshots, I had too many ideas and they couldn't all fit into one fic :p

It’s not that your office is hidden; it’s just out of the way. A short walk before the bullpen’s glass doors, on the opposite side of the restrooms. It’s not nestled within the buzz, and yet a single agent flits to it like a moth to a flame, with no reason or purpose behind her frequent visits.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Emily murmurs. She flashes you a smile, genuine but fading as she rests her hip against your desk and leans on it.

“Hi.” You don’t return her smile, too busy examining the bruised shadows under her eyes. A frown pulls your lips downward. “You look tired.”

“Ouch,” she mock winces. “Take it easy on a girl’s ego, will you?”

“I’m serious. Did you sleep okay?”

Something flickers behind her eyes. They’re dark eyes, endless and lovely, but something about them seems dull today. “Slept okay,” she dips her chin in a nod, “as well as I could without you there with me.”

It’s instantaneous, the knot in your tongue. Heat surges above the collar of your button down, the flush creeping up your neck, and Emily’s gaze becomes too much to hold. You drop your eyes to the neat surface of your desk, shifting files around beneath your sweaty fingertips. 

“It’s a big bed,” she continues through her brilliant teeth, gently poking at your composure. “A king. Gets cold easily, y’know? Hey, out of curiosity, do you happen to run hot? I’m freezing most of—”

“Prentiss.”

You both look up to find Hotch at your open door, his mouth set in a straight line—probably at the blatant show of fraternization from his subordinate. Emily grins at him winningly, unabashed as she gives a nod and drawls out, “Morning.”

The stare he gives her is a usual for when she’s leaning against your desk: stop flirting with my assistant. He doesn’t say it, only arches his brow, but everyone hears it.

“Good morning.” His voice is dry. Walking in, his gaze flits to you. “Any urgent cases?”

“N-No sir,” you fluster, cheeks still unbearably hot at the thought of you and Emily intertwined on her bed. Rubbing at your temple, your eyes dip down to the sticky note you’d stuck on your desk in preparation for the day’s tasks. The scrawl of your handwriting sparks competence back into your brain. “Uh, Strauss called again,” you say sheepishly; Hotch’s lips press together, his top lip disappearing, “about the budget meeting. That’s…three times this month?” You tilt your head, grimacing. “I’m starting to worry she’ll barter away the jet soon, save herself the headache.”

Emily lets out a small laugh. “I think letting Morgan go would be more cost effective.” 

She’s not entirely unfair—you’ve filed enough damage reports this month to make the director weep. The corner of your mouth tickles. Emily catches your eyes, lashes feathering over her cheek in a wink.

Hotch ignores her. 

“We’ve only got consults for today, right?” He asks. You nod. “See if we can schedule it today, get it over with. And, uh,” his eyes linger pointedly on Emily, “it’s almost 9.”

“We’ll be there in a minute,” she answers for the both of you, drowning out your low, yes sir.

The lumping of you and her in a we makes you pathetically giddy. 

It could possibly be considered rude for you to drop your eyes back to your desk before your boss leaves, robbing him of attention, but he’s already turning on his heel and with the two of them crowding your space, it’s like you’re flayed open beneath their sharp eyes. Profilers, you grumble internally, a small shake to your hands as Emily’s perfume dissolves over you in waves, a product of her coming closer. She’s next to your elbow now, the pale outline of her hand creeping up next to yours.

“Here, honey, let me help.”

You inhale a sharp breath, feeling the cold air drop all the way to the pit of your stomach. “They’re just a few files.” You mumble, gathering the consults and standing clumsily, eager to escape the heat of her body pressing against yours.

It’s a bad move. Your chest bumps into her arm, not hard, but enough to make you sway on your feet. Emily’s other hand is quick to land on your waist, steadily restoring your balance with a squeeze through your cardigan that has your head reeling.

“Careful there,” she says softly. You blink at her, the tired slant of her lashes now almost at eye-level. “Sorry, I was in your way—”

“Are you sure you’re good?” You blurt. Emily’s mouth snaps shut and you hug the files to your chest, looking her over more thoroughly. Minimal, effortless makeup, but there’s a wrinkle in her shirt, creases in the skin under her eyes. It’s not unusual for her to be tired, given the nature of her job, but the lines of her body are more tense than you’ve seen them.

At your question, it’s almost like she coils further into a tight spring.

“Yeah.” Emily says firmly. “I’m good, don’t worry about me. My cat kept waking me up, yelling all night to be let out and then yelling to be let in.” Her mouth twists into a wry smile.

“Sergio?”

“Mhm,” she nods. “He’s talkative.”

Her tone is as convincing as it ever is, buttery smooth and warm. But you don’t believe her. It’s a gut feeling, not something you can explain with any shred of reason; the certainty of it clings to you, so you look into the molten pools of her irises and hold on.

“You can—you, um…” the thoughts scatter from your brain just when you start, possibly the quiet intensity of Emily’s eyes making them flutter out of your skull. But she’s patient. Tilting her head, she doesn’t interrupt your silence, only presses her lips together in a reassuring smile.

The frustration settles bitterly in your gut, but you blow out a breath. Swallow and gather your words with a firm hand. When you finally have a good grasp on them, you look Emily in the eye and speak slowly.

“You could talk to me, you know. About anything. If you’re not sleeping, or—or just if you want to,” you shrug jerkily. “Doesn’t have to be anything, really, but I’m here. For you.” Stupidly, you wish you could reach out, gather the courage to place your hand on her shoulder or curl your fingers around her elbow. Maybe offer a reassuring squeeze, something more tangible than your useless, mumbled words. Emily touches you so much, it should be normal, but sweat slicks your skin at the thought of you initiating.

The arch of her brows softens as she smiles. It takes some pressure off your chest, more so when she loosely cups your elbow. “Thank you.” She says quietly. Her hand squeezes and your eyes skate over her face, searching. “Really, honey, thank you. But I’m fine. Slept late is all.”

Now that you’ve caught her out, she lets you hear the hint of exhaustion in her voice, raspy threads lacing through her words. It makes you wonder what else she hides so easily, exactly how much effort it would take to get her to let her walls crumble and the facade burn down. But she’s already a flighty person, wings flapping if she feels like the walls are starting to close in, so you don’t push further even though you want to.

“Oh. Uh, okay,” you fidget with your sleeve, tugging it further down your hand to dry the sweat on it. A quick flash of your eyes on Emily’s face tells you she’s still smiling, her lips drawn in a gentle curve. You look away again. 

“I just wanted you to know. That you could, if you wanted to. ’bout anything.” The last part comes out as a whisper. You hug the consult files closer to your chest, your eyes dropping to the watch strapped to your wrist. 8:59. “We should go, the team’s—”

“I do know that.” Emily says. Her hand falls away from your elbow, but her eyes fill with so much warmth you hardly feel the loss. “I know it. And I—” The heat of her eyes disappears, seeking something lower than your eyesight before snapping back up again. A confused flurry rips through your gut and she falters, mouth opening and closing. Her lips part again and she finally says, “You could, too. Talk to me about anything.” Sincerity is thick in her voice, her gaze earnest as she stares into your soul. “I hope you know that.”

The back of your throat is briefly dry. A small dip of your chin constitutes a nod; swallowing, you curl your fingers around the edges of the consultation files.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, I know.”

When Emily smiles, her eyes brighten the tiniest bit. A thrill goes through you at the thought of igniting it. Your own lips start to curve, but their path is rudely stopped when Emily’s brows tick upward.

“Oops,” she says lightly, her eyes finding the clock above your door. “9:01—” You curse as you look down at your own watch, eyes bugging out at the time. One minute is hardly late, but so far your record with Hotch has been spotless, and you want to keep it that way. 

Emily’s hand needlessly nudges the center of your back. “Let’s go, gorgeous.” She murmurs. You’re already moving, shooting past the open door of your office without hanging back to close it. A distant click tells you Emily does it, and a few more not so distant clicks of her heels on the floor tell you that she hurries to catch up to your gait. You’re still cursing under your breath, preemptively flustered at the thought of walking in late into the conference room, the rest of the team seated and waiting for your arrival. The weight of their eyes on you is already heavy.

“Your fault,” you mumble to Emily without any real heat.

She pulls open the bullpen door for you. You step through. “Hey, don’t worry. It’s just a minute, two tops.” The relaxed drawl of her voice doesn’t make you slow down. “Listen, if Hotch does pull out the death glare just get behind me, yeah? I’ll protect you.”

You finally turn your head and look at her, none too surprised to find her grinning. It makes you falter, feet slowing as you cross the bullpen floor. Stupid heat burns in your cheeks; you look away.

“Shut up, Prentiss.”

“Sorry, babe.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights @professorsapphic

[luveline]

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

part five | chapter list

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue sleepy kisses, baby kisses, cheesecake and cherry ice pops, and dinner with uncle wayne. [8k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a girl dad (<3), tw for mentions of not having much money, new established relationship! idiots in love!! and junie being the sweetest baby ever

𓆩❤︎𓆪

You don't think you've ever seen Eddie asleep before. You rack your brain for a memory, even the suggestion of one, and come up blank. Maybe I dreamt it, you think to yourself, hesitating with your hand held aloft above his peaceful face.

He looks like a dream. 

What he'd said last night — before the kiss, and after — echoes. You can feel his hands on your face if you close your eyes, the heat of each gentle palm, the scratch of a silver ring. He's missing his jewellery now, because he takes it off before bed. You can't believe you hadn't known that. All these details. His lashes kissing the delicate skin of his under eye, the way his lips thin in sleep from being pressed together. You reach toward him with a shy hand and brush a bundle of curls from his cheek, exposing the ridge of his cheekbone, begging to be kissed. 

You'd been tired, so tired, and then he'd come back, and he'd crashed hard. You understand it. It'd been the most exciting moment of your life, and on top of that, he'd taken care of Junie for most of the day beforehand. 

You've slept sparingly. The sun leeches in through the window one small ray at a time. Junie makes a small sound behind you, stirring in her toddler bed. You nibble your lip guiltily, wanting one more minute, just one, to look at Eddie uninterrupted. 

You turn around and your reluctance melts, Junie a picture of a good long sleep. Her hair is a mess, her lips still pouting, and her eyes are partly open. She sees you're awake too and smiles, and the guilt of wishing she'd sleep in intensifies. She climbs down from her bed and rushes up to yours.

"Hey, baby," you say softly, holding out your arm.

She grabs the sheets and you help her up, folding her into your chest with a contented sigh.

She's tired, and she lets you move her around with little protest. Which isn't to say she's despondent: her hands latch onto your t-shirt, and her tiny chin rises as she stares you straight in the eye. 

"How did you sleep, bubby?" you whisper-coo, hand spread over the breadth of her shoulders, the other crushed under your own weight. "My hand's going numb." 

You pull you arm out and hold her face. "That's better. Good sleep? Do you feel happy?"

"Good," she says. "Feel good?" 

You huff out a delighted sound and drop your nose to hers. "I feel super good, Junie baby. I'm so happy, because you're happy, and you're so smart." 

She smiles more. 

"Can you say that, baby? Say, 'I'm so smart."

Junie wiggles against your torso, hands at the neckline of your sleep shirt. "Smart," she says. 

"Yeah! Yes. 'I'm so smart.'" 

"I'm so 'mart." 

"Yay!" you cheer again, your inflection celebratory even though you're still speaking in hushed tones. You don't want to wake Eddie, but maybe you do — is this the kind of thing he's interested in being a part of? "You're so smart. So so smart, and pretty and kind and soft." 

You stroke her cheek with the back of your index finger, hoping to tickle her into giggles. "So soft," you murmur, "my lovely soft girl. You know why you're so soft? It's 'cause you're such a good girl, and you let me wipe your cheeks after dinner even though you hate it." You're speaking quietly enough that some of the words sound worn, syllables lost. 

Junie doesn't need to hear them to know they're dripping in love. She rests her cheek against your upper arm, chub against chub, and you sink down with her, closing her in for a cuddle.

Your fingertips brush over the nape of her neck. 

"Love you," you say, kissing her head absentmindedly. 

"Love you," she says back. 

She'd been a slow-learner, and she's still behind the majority of her age group, but none of it matters. Hearing her say anything at all is a gift. Hearing her says she loves you? 

You laugh. There's nowhere else for all the happy to go. 

Your hopes of sleeping again are dashed when she sits up and sees the lump of a body behind you. If she's confused she doesn't show it, hands pressed to your tender side as she climbs over you and onto Eddie's stomach. 

He doesn't rouse at first. He sighs, his arm lifting where it's trapped under the sheets, your faded cornflower blue quilt that he'd praised unnecessarily. It's pretty, he'd said, back flat to your mattress as you'd imagined him a hundred times before. 

You're pretty, you'd said. He'd opened his arms to draw you in for another hug. They'd felt endless all night.

Junie gets to his chest and her face fills with recognition. 

"Eddie," she says happily.

He hums but still doesn't wake. Junie pulls down the blankets, and he raises his arm. Eyes closed, he wraps it around her, pulling her to his chest with a contented sound. She giggles, tiny baby giggles, and starts to play with his hair. 

“June,” he mumbles. 

“Eddie,” you say, apprehensive, forcing a lightness, “we have company.”

“I can feel that,” he says. 

To your — your pleasure, your elation, he turns onto his back and his free hand finds you. His fingers curl around yours and he holds them, thumb pressed to the knuckle of your index finger. 

His eyes open slowly, his lashes parting, his face dipped down to take Junie in. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says. 

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he repeats with a laugh. “Aw, Junie, your hair! I’ve never seen you before mommy gets you dressed. Uncle Wayne would say you look like me when I wake up, when I was a kid he,” —Eddie talks through a yawn, smoothing the baby hairs out of Junie’s eyes— “used to say I looked like Linus from the Peanuts strip.”

“That’s so mean,” you say. You're relieved. You should've known Eddie wouldn't care. He loves her. 

"You know who you look like?" he asks her. 

She shakes her head. His face lights up. 

"Animal! Grown up Animal, not the baby." 

Your stomach rumbles. Eddie looks at you with concern, though that concern is a mild, soft thing. He sees you properly for the first time since he woke up, Junie held to his chest, hair as messy as hers, as yours probably is, his t-shirt neckline rolled from wear, and he visibly melts.

"D'you wanna go out for breakfast?" you ask. 

He shakes his head. "Come here." 

"What?" 

"Just come here. Lie down." 

You ease off of your elbow and slide toward him. You rest your head very carefully beside his, and are immediately delighted when he kisses your cheek. 

"How are you feeling?" he asks, pulling his arm out of hiding to steer the side of your face to his. Your noses smush together, eyes closing on instinct. "Hey, how are you?" 

"How are you?" you ask back. He sounds super tired. 

"Y'always do that. You can't just answer me? You're–" He kisses you, then, softly but with a sluggish imprecision. "Impossible." 

"I'm impossible?" 

"You're impossible," he promises. 

You try not to squish Junie as you wrap your arm around her and bring a hand to his cheek. The tiniest rebirth of stubble scratches your fingertips as they rove up his cheek to the smoothest plane under his eye. You turn your finger until the nail is flat to his skin, stroking a fascinated back and forth. 

"I can't believe you're real." 

Can't believe you're real, and you chose me, and you're here now letting my baby pull at the sweat curls tight at your neck. 

"Do I look bad?" he asks. 

You roll your head back enough to see his smile. It makes your heart skip in the best way, how handsome he is, and you have to dive in again to kiss the line between his lips and his cheek. He's really warm. Before him, you'd forgotten how this could feel, the heat that another person can give you and how protected it leaves you. 

"You look really nice," you say, your finger rubbing up and down his cheek. A teardrop to his chin that falls and climb over and over. 

"Eddie," Junie says, weaselling under your arm.

"What, baby?" he asks. 

She tucks herself up under his chin and lifts her head. It's awkward, but babies are like that. Always wanting to be where they aren't. 

"Junie?" he asks. 

She looks up, dishevelled hair especially fierce. 

"You said my name, remember? Did you have something to ask me?" 

She giggles at his tone but doesn't answer. Your stomach makes some more aggressive sounds and Eddie shoots up like bamboo, baby held to his chest and hand behind your head. 

"Mom's dying." 

"Eddie." 

"Mom's super duper hungry," he says, stroking your forehead apologetically. "Now move, mom, so we may enter your kitchen and make super duper breakfast." 

"Oh, no, let me change her first," you say. "Poor girl, I slept through the entire night." 

He passes her over to you and you stand so he can slide out of bed. His smile grows. "Hair fairy got you both," he says. 

You glare. "You are not exempt." 

"Can I use the bathroom?" 

"Don't ask! Since when do you ask?"

"Do you want to go first?" 

His caring is sweet but unnecessary. "No. Please go, and spend like ten minutes in there? I promise we'll be much prettier when you get back." 

"You're beautiful now," he says, though he obeys your ask and treks out of the bedroom with a wanton groan and a stretch that shows a lot of back. It's more than likely on purpose. 

"I'm with my baby!" you yell, laughing. 

"Don't know what you mean."  

You strip Junie down to her smalls, change her diaper, and rub a nice lotion all over. She loves the skin to skin and stays still until you offer her today's options, two dresses, one blue and one a lighter green. She chooses the green, so you put green butterfly clips in her hair to match, and white socks with lace in black shoes. She looks awesome. 

"Girls?" Eddie shouts. "Can I come out now?" 

"I was kidding," you murmur to yourself, laughing.

You comb your fingers through your hair and meet him in the bathroom doorway with Junie's hand held in your own, glancing at each other through the gap. 

"I wasn't serious." 

"Sweetheart," he says, bending at the waist like he's been punched, "look at you. Juniper the Beautiful, holy sugar."  

She only smiles. 

"I can take her, yeah? I'll make breakfast. Do you want to get dressed?" he asks you, concern again softening the lines of his face. 

"Sorry," you say. 

"For what?" 

He takes your face into his hand, cupping your cheek. You meld into it like you're one and the same, two pieces of the same puzzle clicked back into place. Junie’s hand in yours makes three. 

"Alright, Junie, breakfast," he says, pulling apart and away with a humorous brevity, stealing her little hand from yours. 

They walk together down the hallway, hands swinging. 

"We'll go get breakfast!" you call. That's why you'd put her shoes on.

"I can make it," Eddie says, voice carrying in the quiet. He shoots a smug look over his shoulder. "I can make it, seriously. Just have a minute for yourself, why don't you?" 

You wonder if that's code words for you look like shit right now, but you firmly believe Eddie wouldn't tell you that even if you did. You wash up in the bathroom and then get changed into a new-old skirt that you sometimes wear to work though you're not supposed to and a nice shirt that doesn't go. You take it all off and try again. And again. 

You pull on a pair of tight sweatpants and the band t-shirt he'd bought you all those weeks ago. For a moment you stand there, face in your hands, and then a big hand presses to your shoulder blade and scares you into flinching. 

"Oh, shit," you say. 

Eddie laughs a storm and gets his hand under your armpit. That's worse, and you squirm, but he doesn't budge, pulling you toward him for a tight-boned hug. 

"You're taking for ages," he says, parroting one of Junie’s newer phrases. 

"Well." You shove your face into the top of his shoulder. "I think I'm nervous. Do I look stupid? Nothing fits me." 

He hears your embarrassment and your panic and hoists you backward, hands curled around the tops of your arms as he gets a good look. 

"You look pretty, and like you need something to eat." He presses his lips together, a funny picture of nervousness to mirror your own. "I know we should probably talk about it, but I don't really know how to do that. Just. Are you still– You don't regret it?" 

It sounds clunky in his mouth. 

"I don't regret any of it," you say sincerely. 

"Good," he says, recovering quickly from this show of vulnerability with a good heaping of bravado, "'cause I was really hoping to get to do this again." 

His hands climb your shoulders, settle neatly in the curves of your neck. He holds your face. You wait for him to kiss you. 

"What? I brushed my teeth." 

He presses his lips to yours all wonky with laughter. It's fleeting, not nearly as long as you want it to be, but Junie shouts something from the kitchen and draws both of your attention. 

"It wasn't about you brushing your teeth," he says, back of his hand rubbing yours as he overtakes. 

Junie stands in the kitchen with a spatula, a whisk, and the rolling pin, an array of items from the bottom drawer she's in the middle of relocating. 

"Sorry I left her, I just wanted to make sure you weren't, like, trying to think of ways to let me down easy. I put the TV on. Not that you can't let me down easy," he says, bending to face Junie.

You shake your head as he starts to help her take things out of the drawer. You don't keep anything sharp in it for this exact reason, Junie's enthusiastic upheaval. 

He catches your look. "I'll put them back! Promise." 

"It's fine, you know she does it all day anyways." 

And really, he should know you won't mind because whenever he's here he helps. Cleans, cooks, soothes her small tantrums and her bigger distresses, like when you won't let her eat laundry powder with the tiny shovel that comes in the box. 

He's even started playing the bad guy sometimes. It sounds crazy, but having someone who's willing to say no for you is a sharp relief. To get to be the comforter rather than the nag, and to share a smile over Junie’s distraught head. 

"This is positive reinforcement." 

"I know both of those words, and yet," Eddie says, closing the now emptied drawer with his foot. 

"You helping her take stuff out teaches her that those things should be taken out." You pull open the fridge. "But it doesn't really matter, I'm just saying. Do you want orange or apple juice? June?" 

You hold out the carton of apple juice and the gallon of orange. The orange juice is awful, a concentrate with too much sugar, and it's delicious, so Junie picks that one without hesitating. You give her half juice half water in a sippy cup. 

"Is mine watered down too?" Eddie asks, accepting the glass you press into his hand. 

"I even mixed in some pedialyte. You're welcome." 

He nods with more genuineness. "Thank you. Now sit down! I'm making breakfast. I'm gonna make it. What do you want?" 

You look at him, fresh but still sleep rumpled, and you think about how hungry you are, and you really like him so much and you get why he wants to do this, but. 

"Listen, let's go out. Let's get waffles and syrup and strawberries and nobody will have to do the dishes." 

He buckles way too fast. It feels like a big compliment, how quickly you can erode his resistance. 

"Alright. Fine, but not because I couldn't have made all of those things." 

"Of course not." 

"You look crazy pretty when you ask for things, you know? All this time I've been begging you to ask for things and now I'm a little worried. D'you always smile like that? I could be in trouble." 

You boo at him and he smiles all the way to the car. He's still smiling as he drops his hand onto your thigh, pulls out of the driveway, and starts down the street leading out of the trailer park. It takes you a minute, but eventually you realise you can touch him back, laying your hand on top of his experimentally. 

"Do I look stupid?" he asks. 

He's stolen one of your hoodies to hide his slept on shirt. His jeans look messed up from sleeping in, but they're baggy. 

"You don't… You could start leaving clothes at my house, you know? If you wanted to– stay again." You swallow a nervous giggle. "I mean." 

"Of course I want to stay again. I'd love to. I love being with you." 

He squeezes your thigh. If it weren't for his pinking ears, you'd assume him unaffected. 

"Okay. Good. You can stay the night whenever you like, handsome, 'cause I love being with you too." 

You wonder and worry if your declaration is too close to an I love you he doesn't want. You do love him, have loved him for a while, but you have no clue what you even are. Last night, you'd said best friend. He's more than that, he has to be. 

You're in sync, or he can read your mind. He says, "We'll talk about it. After you get some breakfast in you. Your stomach's so loud they just put a weather warning on the radio." 

"They did not." 

—

Wayne puts a beer down in front of his nephew and doesn't pull any punches. 

"If you get that poor girl pregnant, I will disown you. Not her, mind you. Just you." 

Eddie thinks this is a very weird thing to say, but he also knows that Wayne is mostly kidding. 

"I'm not going to get her pregnant." 

Satisfied, Wayne sits down next to Eddie on the couch, the two of them tired from a long day at work, the TV on quietly in the background. It's the same thing they do everyday, or everyday before Eddie met you and your baby. 

"I get to meet her, or we just gonna meet at the wedding?" 

"Funny," Eddie says. "You can meet her whenever you want to. I kind of didn't think you'd be interested." 

Wayne sighs, scrubs his jaw. 

"Son, I want to meet her. Her and the baby. I didn't know if it was gonna work, but…" He smiles at Eddie. Eddie thinks that it's a mix of pride and love, and it has a lump forming in his throat near instantly. "I should've known, huh?" 

Eddie makes himself scoff. 

"Yeah, you should've." 

"Only thing you ever half-assed was high school." 

"You had to get that one in there." 

Quick wit and nipping comments aside, Eddie knows Wayne truly does want to meet you and Junie, and that he should've a long time ago. It had been a cop out to say he didn't think Wayne wanted to meet you, because he knew his uncle had been curious and — he's family. Wayne is Eddie's family, and you and June have become the same. 

When he brings it up to you, he does it carefully. With flowers. 

You open the door and throw your arms around him, smashing the flowers unapologetically. He chuckles into your neck, pulls you tight to his chest. You smell like the diner.

"How come you never used to do this before?" he asks. 

"You never did either." 

You take his face into your hands and kiss him, before your usual shyness takes over and you pull away. He's having none of it, grabbing your wrist before you can escape to offer your flowers. 

"Here. You'll have to give me one back for Junie, though." 

You give him the biggest flower of the bunch, a huge pink carnation with perfect petals and a thick stalk. Your fingertips brush his as you do, and his eyes are drawn to them, your hands, the bump and bone of your knuckles. You still have a scratch from work down the length of your pinky, and they're scrubbed raw as usual from cleaning. He worries you're a little compulsive about cleaning, but he supposes you'd had to have been, all by yourself. He resolves to treat them kindly at the next possible opening. 

"Thank you." 

You don't blink at his bag from Bradley's. You try not to look at it; Eddie won't accept a thank you and you're trying to let him give you things, as per the arrangement. 

As in, you, with Junie in your lap and fresh cream on your cheek, had agreed to be his girlfriend three days ago in the booth of a diner that wasn't Benny's. He hadn't been as brave as he could've been. It felt unreal to him to be with you, to have kissed you more times than he could remember, and to have you smiling back. 

"Listen, I know you said we're best friends, and we are, you're my best friend, but I– we're more. I want to be your boyfriend." He rolled the word around so you'd know how strange he though it was. "But if you've… changed your mind–" 

You'd reached across the table, pads of your fingers stroking the back of his wrist. "Why would I change my mind?"

"You realise, if we're together, you have to let me take care of you all the time?" he'd asked, full of nervous energy and really, really pleased. Proud to have you. 

"I think I can deal with it." 

He'd rubbed the toe of his shoe against your ankle and finally told you about the cream on your face. 

"Junie?" he says now, eyes searching for your lovely daughter. 

"She's in the bedroom." 

"What for?" 

You squeeze your hand through the crook of his arm, press your cheek to the top of his shoulder, and laugh. "She's making Eddie's bed, apparently. I tried to explain that you won't be sleeping here all the time but I might have made it worse." 

Did you make it worse, or had your toddler misunderstood? He hates how even in the small things you'll blame yourself. This feels like a completely blameless situation, and, if anything, it's his fault, he's the one who stayed the night, and then another night, and another. He'd gone home between those days, had even gone to work, and really didn't mean to spend the night each time. It's addictive to get to sleep with you so close by. Getting to kiss you with your arm slung over his chest, your tired eyes staring up at him lovingly — he's a good person but he's weak, too. 

He knows it's a little improper to stay this close so soon. If he thought for a second you weren't okay with it he'd be out the door. 

"Eddie?" you ask. 

"What?" 

"You're staring straight through me," you say, sounding both amused and concerned. "What are you thinking about?" 

"You, mostly. You and June. You know, Wayne wants to meet you." 

You shake the bouquet at him, brows furrowed accusingly. "Is this a bribe?" 

"'Course not… Are they working?" 

"I don't need flowers. I want to meet him too. It's weird we haven't met before. You keeping us apart?" 

"I absolutely am. I was a gross kid, I don't need him to tell you all of that now I actually got you." 

Eddie draws away from you reluctantly to put his bag on the table, as well as June's flower. He pulls out the dinner he's brought for tonight and his most important purchase, a vase big enough for your flowers. It's simple clear glass with dainty enamel flowers around the circumference. 

"For you, my sweetheart, a vase for the flowers. You want me to cut the stems?" 

You beam at him, a shining smile that makes his chest feel fizzy, a can of soda on a rollercoaster as the sound of thumping comes from the bedroom, small footsteps racing to the door. 

"Think she heard you," you say. You smile, take the vase, and kiss his cheek in a silent thank you. 

Sure enough, Junie appears down the hall and Eddie's barely taken three steps when she's laughing and pawing at his legs, having raced all the way.

"Eddie," she cheers, arms up in the universal sign for 'grab me before I start screaming'.

He's more than happy to get his hands under her arms and pull her to his chest, your mini me breathing hard as she settles. Her hand presses into his collarbone, her lips puckered up for a kiss. He doesn't usually kiss her, doesn't really know where the line is, but denying her feels cruel. He kisses her cheek and feels her lips press to his cheek at the same time. 

"Thank you," he coos, "thank you for the kiss, baby, I'm happy to see you too." 

"See you," she says, patting his neck. 

"How do I look? Handsome?" 

She tangles her fingers in his hair. 

"So, Uncle Wayne, does he like me?" 

Eddie leans against the countertop you're facing so he can see your face. "He's never met you." 

"Duh, but does he like me?" 

"Probably. He has a bunch of reasons to like you and none not to like you." 

"Doesn't hate me for stealing his baby boy?" 

Eddie wonders if he's going red. "No, god, he'd thank you for it. Man hasn't had a quiet night in a decade and a half." You laugh softly, fingers weaving through flowers to arrange their leaves and stalks, and he catches a flash of uncertainty as it twists your mouth. "Seriously, he'll like you. I know everybody says it 'bout everyone, but Wayne's a good man." 

"I know he's a good man, just…" You frame the flowers with your hands and step back. You smile at him to unsuccessfully hide an insecurity he can spot a mile away. "I'm not the girl people would pick for their son, you know?" 

He raises his eyebrows, feels bad and drops them. Eddie lives in a trailer park, and has done for most of his life, it's not like the people around here are prudent about love and partners: Eddie's obviously not the first guy to ever date somebody who already has a kid. He doesn't wanna brush it under the rug, though. Your worrying worries him. 

"I think you're exactly who he'd pick." He smiles at you in warning. You asked for this, sweetheart, buckle in. "Gorgeous girl with a perfect body," —you snort— "'n' a heart of gold." He pats between Junie's shoulders where she's oh so quiet in his arms, an affectionate slump over his heart. "And her pretty baby, too. I'd choose you for my kid. You know, if I was old. And I had one."

You wrap Junie up with one hand, the other placed sweetly over his shoulder. Your thumb strokes into his skin. "Thanks, Shakespeare," you say, letting your head dip down until your lips are flat to his shirt. 

He drops his head into yours. 

"Do you think he should come over for dinner?" you ask quietly. 

"What, today?" 

"It's gonna make me nervous thinking about it otherwise. What did you bring? Or maybe I can get pizza?" 

He encourages your head back, palm to the side of your head. He strokes down until his hand covers your ear and curls around the curve of your neck. Insanely, he thinks it is a privilege to get to see you upset and to get to try and fix it. 

"I can ask him, and he's not fussy. You're sure you want to do this today? I could host, you know, or we could go out." 

You shake your head, looking grim. Dread clear in your eyes, you say, "I'll obsess over it. Can you call him before I lose my nerve, please? Do you think that would be alright?" 

You ask like he genuinely might say no. He hasn't had the power to say no to you for months. 

"Yeah, sweetheart, I can call 'im." 

You offer to take Junie and it's funny because she doesn't need to be held right now and yet neither of you want to put her down. She's relaxed and Eddie doesn't see why she should have to be anywhere else but in his arms, hiking her up his chest in one arm to use the phone. He slots the receiver between his shoulder and his head and types in Wayne's number without having to look. He's typed it hundreds of times, at friend's houses, at the school nurse when his Mom's didn't work anymore, at the Hideout. Just to say, I'll be home late, but don't worry. 

He extends the invitation with a teasing tone. "You wanna come around for dinner? Old lady's asking." 

"You can't call her your old lady, son, not yet. That's a privilege you gotta earn." 

Eddie laughs down the line. "What's wrong with old lady? I'm keeping it respectful, classy, aren't I? She's making burgers." 

"You better be helping her." 

"How can I help her? I'm on the phone to you." 

"What time am I expected?" 

"Let me ask." He pulls June back up where she's slipping, mouth lifted from the phone to grab your attention. "What time are you thinking, sweetheart?" 

"It can be done whenever he wants it," you say, elbow deep in ground beef. 

"Give us an hour, okay? Don't fill up on shit." 

"Yeah, boy, I won't. Better leave me alone to wash up, or I can come in my overalls–" 

"Alright, Wayne." He hopes it sounds like 'love you'. "See you in an hour. Don't forget." 

"Yeah, 'cause I'm that old," Wayne says, followed by the sound of the phone on the hook. 

Eddie passes it to Junie where she'd been dying to have a turn. He can't let her play too long, guilty already watching you chopping and dicing and washing. He sets her up on your couch with her army of teddies and a peach juice box from Bradley's. He'd picked them up thinking they were weird, and that he'd wanted Junie to try them if she hadn't before. She seems pleased with it, back and legs straight across the pillow, head bent in a way that would give a grown up a sore neck for the foreseeable future, socked feet wiggling along to the music playing on her show. 

He returns to find you washing your hands. Eddie wants to kiss your neck but doesn't have a clue in the world if he's allowed to do that now or ever, so he folds his arms over yours like a hug. 

"Can I get some of that?" 

You squirt dish soap into his palm. He's expecting grumbling and complaining at his weird position, but you say nothing, only laugh. You wash his hands for him, thumb rubbing down the small hills of his fingers until he has to wash off the suds, squishing you to the countertop edge with a feigned apology. 

You squeal with laughter. "Get off," you plead. 

"I'm so tired, suddenly, I don't know what it is." 

"Eddie," you moan, well and truly sandwiched under his weight. 

He pecks your neck and stands properly in search of a hand towel to dry off your dripping hands. He towels his, passes it to you, and uses his dry hands to cradle your face. He thinks you look beautiful but admittedly very tired, and lowers his voice to an adoring murmur.

"You can go sit down, if you want to." 

"Oh, no, there's too much to do," you say, and though you're denying him, your face lists heavily into one of his hands. You close your eyes for a moment before looking up at him through your lashes. "I can do it." 

"I know you can do it, I just don't want you to have to." 

He pulls you closer, his elbows pushed into your shoulders. 

"I'm really good at making burgers. S'like, my signature dish. That's why I got stuff for burgers, 'cause I wanted to cook tonight." 

You still don't budge. 

"Go on," he murmurs, "go get your cuddles." 

Junie, upon realising Eddie would be sleeping in your bed, has taken to climbing on top of him and insisting she get to stay in the big bed. She's hogging him, and it's clear you're not unaffected. Not jealous, not bitter, but missing your baby. 

You're in mild withdrawals, and it makes sense. After all, she gets her extreme need for affection from you. 

"You're sure?" you ask, frowning softly. 

"Yes," he says, laughing and pushing you away gently, "trust me, sweetheart, I can make dinner. You gotta take my flower for June, though." He picks it up off of the counter and twirls it under your chin. "I forgot all about it, you distracted me." 

You take the flower but hesitate in front of him. 

"Kiss?" you ask, eyebrows popped up. 

He bends backward, hand coming up to cover his mouth. "You have it bad, huh?"  

"Forget I asked," you faux-threaten, spinning on your heel to leave. 

Eddie follows, spins you right back around with a hushed, "Where do you think you're going?" and kisses you, hand sliding up your cheek. 

One kiss turns to two, your lips parting slightly under the pressure. He grins and goes in for a third. 

—

You don't sit down for long. You steal a Junebug cuddle, in which she insists on sharing her juice box with you and kisses you upwards of twenty times. You giggle giddily, the petals of the flower you've tucked behind her ear almost blinding you with each one. They're drooly and gross and lovely to begin with, less wet when you leave to find something for her to wear. 

The dress she wears now is dirty from daycare, and the applesauce, crackers, and peanut butter you'd given her earlier stain the neck. You pick out a simple matching set of not-quite pyjamas. You want Wayne to know you dress her well, but you'd feel bad if she had to suffer any longer in clothes with buttons and zips.

Once she's changed, she's somehow even happier than she was. Now she's settled into daycare and your routine, she's over the moon all the time. She's finally settled in, and you have Eddie to thank for a good chunk of it. He's a great part of her routine, another person who wants to love and dote on her. While you know you'd been doing a great job by yourself, any extra love at all is welcome. You could love him for how he loves her and nothing else, only there's a thousand other things about him to love. 

Like his singing. You can hear him humming, then riffing, spatula scratching the frying pan as he rocks out to a song you can't hear. You're playing with Junie's toes, as strange as it sounds, wiggling and tickling the sole of her feet. 

"Mommy?" she says breezily.

"What?" you ask, leaning to her eye level, fluffy bed socks in hand. 

"Special treats for dinner?"

You can't believe the improvements in her speech, though it's natural, and it would've happened eventually. And it blows your mind because you'd known she was in there, she's a great listener and she's so patient for a toddler, but knowing she's having these thoughts and then having her voicing them now is something else completely. It's amazing. 

You tuck the sock under her pant leg and beam at her. "Yeah, baby, we're having special treats after dinner. Eddie's making burgers with the cheese," you hum, offering your open hand for her to hold.  "And… his Uncle Wayne is coming by for dinner. So we're gonna meet him and say hi to him and be super nice, okay?" 

"Okay. What's for treats?" 

"I don't know, you'll have to ask Eddie. Should we go ask him?" 

She nods enthusiastically and slides off of the sofa, gand in yours. She walks with a wobbly confidence into the kitchen, where the smell of searing hamburgers and black pepper is cloying. 

Eddie turns with the spatula, slouched with one elbow on the counter. He perks up when he sees Junie in her fresh clothes. 

"Hey, bub, look at you!" 

"She has something to ask you." 

Eddie crouches down. "Anything. What do you want to ask me, Junie?" 

"What's for," —her voice is small, high-pitched and clumsy but sweet— "... have for…" 

"Dessert," you whisper. "For treats." 

"What's for treats?" she asks, smiling. 

You sigh with pride and Eddie mirrors your expression. "Well," he says, reaching out to readjust the flower peaking in front of her hair, "I brought two things, cherry ice pops and cheesecake." 

"Oh," Junie says, "my gosh." 

You leave them in their love bubble and change into your nice (bleach stained, agonisingly bleach stained) jeans, rather than meet Wayne in your waitressing skirt and blouse. Eddie wolf whistles as soon as you emerge, Junie now happily perched on his hip as he moves the burgers onto a plate to wait in the oven. Junie turns and drops the slice of cheese she was holding, startled at the noise. 

"Is this awful?" you ask, pointing to the thin line of bleach across your thigh. 

"'This' is killer," Eddie says. 

"No, but can you see the bleach?" 

"Not really. If you need new jeans, we can go get some."  

The I can't afford it begs to be said, though you know exactly what he'll say in response. 

"Not right now," he amends. "They look fine, okay? He won't notice. I had my first tattoo for three weeks before he saw it." 

You lean over the sink to open the window and let some clean air in. Eddie goes back to the plate, and Junie drops another slice of cheese. 

The knock at the door startles you. You're unprepared, terrified, and you haven't wiped down the dinner table yet. Eddie sees your panic and shakes his head at you. 

"It's fine. You want me to answer?" 

"We should both answer," you say, with a confidence you are not feeling. 

You hold your hands out for Junie. She's a safety blanket. 

Please like me, you think, letting Eddie pull you to the door. 

—

You have nice shoulders. Eddie feels like he's had this thought before. Often, he looks at you, and he finds something new to catch onto and to obsess about. This hasn't changed in the few days you've been together. It's gotten worse. 

He can see the top of Junie's head against your shoulder but not her sleeping face. You sway her from side to side and he can see you arms shaking with the effort it takes to have been holding her for this long, your quiet humming now a whisper of sounds. The gentle thudding of your hand against the bottom of her spine stops, and you turn to look at him, a question in your eyes. 

He nods. Looking good. 

You ease her down into her toddler bed and spend some time pulling the blankets over her legs, tucking her small army of teddies in beside her. 

Finger to your lips, you and Eddie creep out of the bedroom and back into the kitchen. There's nothing to clean. His Uncle Wayne is a stickler who couldn't not help clean up. 

Wayne had definitely liked you. You're still glowing with it. It had been a great time, not nearly as awkward as you'd feared, and Eddie's feeling pretty content right now. You waste no time collapsing on the couch. A sippy cup under your hip, cushions in disarray at your head. Eddie grabs the half of the cheesecake that's left and two spoons and sits right next to you, thigh to thigh, no need for friendly space anymore. He forces the spoon into your hand, slides the cheesecake onto your thigh, and moves the sippy cup out of the way. 

"My arms are too tired," you mumble, dropping back into the cushions. Junie had piled them all up behind Wayne's head. She was extra, extra nice. 

"Want me to feed you? I can baby bird you." 

"Ew. That image never gets any less disgusting, Eddie." 

It's been Eddie all day. What's a guy gotta do to get a 'handsome'? A 'baby'? 

He laughs around a spoonful of cheesecake and twists his foot behind your calf, linking your legs. You've managed to finally get cable, and an episode of Jeopardy plays on mute across the room. There are toys everywhere, the kind of mess that you'll spend three hours putting right, sorting and spritzing and wiping with Junie behind you pulling things back out. 

Eddie's already got the clothes here to stay, and Wayne had said, "See you tomorrow," when he left, but Eddie asks anyway. 

"Can I stay over?" 

You sit up to drop your face heavily into his shoulder.

"Please, handsome. Don't want you to go home." 

There's the pet name he'd been searching for. A warmth climbs all over, a twinge in his stomach. He heaps cheesecake onto your spoon and presses the handle into your fingers. You eat it slowly, tip of your tongue making an unexpected appearance when a crumb sticks to your lip. 

You make a sound that should probably be illegal and drop the spoon into the cheesecake casing, freeing your arm to wrap it around his chest. You nuzzle your nose into his skin, sniffing. 

He laughs from happiness and nothing else, making good work of the cheesecake while you doze. He's not an animal, leaving some for you and June if you want more tomorrow, but he isn't temperate, either. He's thinking this might be the perfect life, you and your baby, Uncle Wayne laughing at your kitchen table, Junie in the high chair beside him trying to make a babbling conversation. She'd managed a couple of proper words and an impressive sentence, much better at answering than asking but trying either way. 

"You're a ringer for your mom, kid, you look like twins," he'd said softly. 

"Ring-ring," she'd said happily, excited to have understood. She'd offered her hand to him, pinky and thumb stuck out. 

Wayne, grinning, had answered the phone. 

"June loved Wayne," Eddie says conversationally.

"Junie loves everybody," you say through a yawn, hand soothing up and down his side greedily. "Not like she loves me and you, but she does. She keeps hugging all the other babies at daycare and they don't know how to stop her." 

"What? You've never told me that." 

"I didn't know 'till this morning." Your fingers find and breach the hem of his shirt, pads tracing to the small of his back. 

"God, you're cuddly tonight. Here, let me–" He moves the cheesecake. "Come here." 

You groan, "No, this is fine." 

"Sit on my lap, loser." 

"I'm heavy." 

True or not, Eddie wants you in his lap, and he's selfish, pulling at you like a kid not getting his way. You end up flopping over his lap to stop him, curled into an uncomfortable but darling position. He gets his hand behind your ear and turns your face, wanting to see your eyes and your nose and your lips. 

Your eyes are bright in the lighting. 

"Wayne liked you," he says, stroking down the shell of your ear with his thumb. 

"I can see why you're so kind," you say. 

You smile at each other. 

"I don't know what I did." 

Eddie leans down, tilts his head to line up with yours, his eyes flicking between the lightness softening your gaze or the curve of your top lip, calling him in like a siren. "What did you do?" he murmurs. 

"To get so lucky," you say. "I don't know. I must have been a saint, in a past life." 

"A past life," he repeats. 

Your eyes find his and narrow. He knows where you're looking, that little dot of dark hiding beneath his eyelashes. You move over his lap carefully, hands behind his neck to anchor yourself. Your thighs against his thighs, ankles locking him in, your hands always so gentle where they play in his hair. 

He thinks there's a kind of melancholy to moments like this. He panics, in his way, in his head, because there are no guarantees. This perfect night with a perfect girl could be it. There are many bad things that could happen, unspeakable, and he gets this trip in his chest like a fuse shorting out. 

He should slow down and tell you what he feels. How you're his and he's the lucky one, goddamn, he's never had luck like this in his life. 

He smooths his thumb across your lips and stops at the corner, momentarily ashamed of his big, clumsy hand, and permanently in awe of your softness, your goodness, how it lines every feature on your brilliant face. 

You lean in for a kiss. 

Your lips are parted, and he thinks you might've read his mind, the hunger and the fear he'd felt, the heart-pounding reverence, that split second of wanting to say something he shouldn't yet. It feels like you read his mind; your lips kiss and kiss and your hands tremble minutely behind his head. The heat of your tongue shocks him like the first drag, has his hand bawling in the fabric of your shirt, a low sigh smothered by your attention. 

Your nose touches his. In the days since his confession you've endured a frankly overzealous amount of his kissing. He's had you in bed, in the kitchen, just outside the front door. Some heavy handed, some sweeter than sugar, none ever for anything but kisses. Your ardency surprises and excites him — his pulse is a freight train, pounding in his veins as you yield. Your head tips back slow, your gasping breaths a golden sound he endeavours to keep forever. 

When you lay back, it's quietly, hand at his front and encouraging you to lay with him. He props himself up on his side, one hand feeling for your upper arm, wishing you'd worn something with shorter sleeves so he could feel your skin. The other covers the column of your throat. He can feel your too-fast breathing in his palm, your shallow gasps. 

Your eyes close again as he ducks in. He rubs a line with the tip of his nose next to yours, the heat emanating off of your skin thickening the air. Or, that's what it feels like. 

"Kiss me," you say under your breath. This close, you might as well have shouted it. 

He kisses you until not one of you can breathe properly, and a little after that, too. His thumb ghosts under the curve of your breast and he can feel the tightness of the question between you, a string pulled taut by your hand and his. 

"Sweetheart," he says, trying to pour all of his affection and something deeper into the word, "do you want to…" 

"What?" you ask. 

He lifts his head off of yours and waits. You open your eyes in confusion, though that confusion quickly turns when you hear what he's hearing. 

Movement. Little feet. 

He pulls his weight off of you and helps you up, brushing down your hair, your hot cheeks. You move away from his hand without malice, and when he turns he's not at all surprised to see baby Junie in her pyjamas, the ear of a teddy clasped in a small fist. 

You press your arm to his. 

"Sorry," you whisper. 

He turns to you, blinks three times quick. "Baby, it doesn't matter." It's unfortunate, but not as unfortunate as your mortified expression. He holds his hand out to Junie where she's meandering toward you, exhausted steps unsafe but determined.

She reaches his knees, and Eddie helps her up to sit between you both, his arm behind her head. 

You stroke her hair. The look you give him is pensive and loving at once. You lift your chin, and he presses a saccharine, chaste kiss against your kiss bitten lips. 

Junie falls asleep again near immediately. Eddie finds your hand in the mess of limbs and gives it a good squeeze. 

"Bed?" he asks. 

You slouch down. "In a minute?" 

He slouches down with you, letting his temple drop against yours over Junie's sleeping figure. 

"Whatever you want." 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! im so happy they’re together this is my fave part of every fic, aimless adoration <3 im not sure what to write for part sis so I’d love to hear what you want to see there, thanks so much

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Not Like Me - Lando Norris

<word count - 893>

"Baby?" you heard from the upstairs as the front door was closed. 

"Up here!" you called back, waiting for Lando to walk through the door of your bedroom. 

"Why are you in bed already?" he asked, checking his watch as he came into the room and saw you, still in your pyjamas with the curtains closed and blinds drawn. "Didn't feel like getting up," you said, sinking further into the pillows. 

You hadn't been feeling like yourself recently, and sometimes you just needed to stay in bed in the dark to clear your head. Today, however, the darkness wasn't taking your hand and pulling you out of the slump you were in.

"Hey, you OK?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. Lando placed his hand on your duvet-clad thigh and gently ran his fingers up and down the span of your thigh. "Yeah, just a bit tired. How was golf?" you asked, changing the subject. 

As much as you tried to deny it, Lando knew every one of your little diversion tactics, and he knew exactly how to get around them. "It was pretty good, Alex won and George was pretty dismal, but that might have been due to how we changed George's club so he was hitting it skew," he lightly giggled, hoping to put a smile on your face. 

You weakly smiled, trying to show that you were alright and you were trying to figure out ways to get him to leave you alone for another hour or two. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate him trying to help, but sometimes, you just wanted to be alone. 

"What have you been up to today?" he asked, the first attempt at getting around the diversions was slightly pressing questions. "Nothing much,  just watched a couple movies and stuff,"

"Do you want to come downstairs with me for a bit?" he asked, trying to get you out of the darkness for a bit. Maybe stretching your legs might do you some good, and Lando hoped it would lighten your mood a bit. 

"I'm alright, I think I'll stay here for a bit," you said, hoping he would get the hint and leave you for a little while. Lando sighed almost in defeat, but he had one more plan to get you to open up. Well, it wasn't a plan, it was just asking you straight up.

"Come on, what's wrong?" he asked as you rolled over in bed to face away from him. "I know something's up," he spoke, earning absolutely no response from you. 

"Look, you don't have to tell me, but it might help," you turned back around and just looked at him for a few moments. There was no denying that Lando knew you weren't feeling great, and he would do everything in his power to help you feel like a million dollars again. 

"I just-" you started, immediately doubling back on your words. "It's silly, it doesn't matter," you said, starting to turn back over for a third time. But, Lando braced his hand on your waist to stop you from rolling.

"Baby, if it's how you feel, then it could never be silly and it most certainly matters. It matters more than anything else in the world," he softly soothed, tangling his fingers in your hair and soothingly tickled you.

"I just don't feel like... Me. And I don't know why," you groaned, leaning more into his touch as it made good vibrations ripple through your brain. "You don't need to know why you feel the way you do. They're your feelings, they don't need a reason," he explained, and the pieces were clicking in your brain.

"I just don't know how to get back to feeling like my normal self," you complained, wanting to be like yourself again. "Give it some time, darling. These things take time, and you can talk to me at any time about anything if you think it will help," he smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

"I love you, Lando," you said, appreciating what he was doing for you. Sometimes, you felt bad for putting your problems onto him, but he always dismissed your apologies. "I love you too, Y/N. Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"Can you cuddle me?" you batted your eyelashes at him as if there was a possibility that he'd say no, but it just added to the scene. "Of course," he smirked, rounding the foot of the bed and you felt the mattress dip behind you. 

Rolling over, you saw a few of Lando's curls had fallen over his eyes as he flicked them out of the way. "C'mere," he mumbled, pulling you as close to him as possible. Your legs tangled together as he wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight. 

 "You're brilliant," you yawned, already feeling tired even after you had spent the whole day in bed. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as one of his hands gently trailed up and down your spine. 

"I try," he quietly laughed in your ear, his lips ghosting over it. As you drifted off to sleep to the sound of Lando's soft breathing, it already felt like a part of you was returning, and maybe the darkness had been reaching out for you all along.

|masterlist|

[ranhaitanisgf]

3:45 a.m - ran haitani [gn]

masterlist

you think that your heart managed to actually stop beating when you open your eyes and see ran staring right back at you. his face is mere centimeters away from yours, his murky violet eyes seeming to be analyzing your face as you jump in shock, letting out a small curse.

"ran, you scared me! why're you up right now...?" you asked, drowsiness still trying to pull you back to sleep. "it's super late, you should be sleeping..."

"i couldn't stop looking at you."

"hah?" you blurted, your brain still too tired to be flustered. ran chuckled a bit at your response, (his slightly raspy voice from sleeping was far more attractive than you could ever handle) and pulled you closer, gently pressing his lips against your temple.

"nothin', go back to sleep."

"mm, is something wrong though?" you asked, tucking yourself closer to his body, (you couldn't help the fact that you were still woefully tired and just a little bit cold). "you love to sleep."

"hm, i'd say it's the opposite, sweets." he murmured, smoothing his hand over the crown of your head. "didn't wanna stop looking at you, my perfect (y/n)."

"gah, stop it...it's so late i don't even know how to respond to that..." you mumbled, shifting your face to hide in his chest. you could feel the vibrations of his laugh in his chest as you buried your face in embarrassment, his long hair tickling your cheeks a bit. "don't laugh at me, you're the one acting weird..."

"sorry sorry~ you're just too cute, i can't help myself." he gently pulled you away from his frame, his eyes finding yours and giving you a soft smile, (it was rare that there wasn't any traces of snarkiness).

"what..." you murmured, feeling as though you were under some kind of scrutiny under his gaze. you could never quite tell what he was thinking, and this was especially true in the dark cover of night when the lack of light in the room shaded his eyes in such a way that you couldn't read them at all.

"'m so lucky to have you. i think god made some kinda mistake giving you to me, but i'm not gonna let anybody try and take you."

"i don't think anybody's gonna try and do that, ran."

"quite the contrary. i think that there are many people who would want to take you as their prize." you rolled your eyes at his words, reaching out to thread your fingers through his hair.

"well i'm not planning on being anybody else's 'prize' or whatever...only yours." ran's eyes slowly closed as you cupped his cheek with your hand, his head unconsciously leaning into your touch.

"mm...that's good to hear." he whispered, relishing in your touch for a few moments longer. "all mine..."

"mhm. why don't we go back to sleep now?"

"m'kay..." you giggled a bit at the drowsiness that seemed be suddenly hitting ran, his eyes staying closed as he once again pulled you closer to him, his lanky arms wrapping around you and making sure that you were as close to him as you could be. "...love you..."

"love you more."

"not possible."

"definitely possible."

"i love you more. now go to sleep."

"no, i-mmph!" your words were cut off by ran's lips pressing against yours, his fingers tilting your chin up and effectively shutting you up, (he was so tired, yet he still had energy to do that?).

"go to sleep, (y/n)."

"this isn't over, ran."

"mm, okay~"

a/n: a little drabble b/c i feel bad abt not completing any reqs :( i hope you all enjoyed :3

[sinsandsweetness]

hi my love <3

do you think you could do a rick grimes fluff where it’s an established relationship where he’s got a short fuse for everyone else but her and he’s super soft and gentle to her

or rick with a sleepy reader who he just lets fall asleep on his lap as he strokes her hair when he’s in the middle of discussing something important with someone else

ok I'm currently painting my toenails baby pink and got me thinking about rickyl with hyperfeminine!reader. (I know u said rick but this is what my brain said so...enjoy?)

It’s way too late but you can’t really help that you’re a night owl. And besides, the boys are still up, lights on in the living room, the two of them talking strategy for some hoard the group has been tracking for a few weeks. The conversation seems really important so you don’t want to interrupt but you also can’t see all that well since your glasses broke on that run last week and you’ve yet to find any new ones… so you were really hoping someone would help you out.

With your bottle of nail polish in hand, you stand in the doorway, fighting an internal battle of if you should go in or not. So in doubt, you hover, putting a few dishes away in the kitchen. Grabbing some water. Checking the fridge. All while the glass bottle of pink polish becomes warm in your hand. Bare feet padding against the cool hardwood as you finally decide to just go back to bed. The safety of the community is undoubtably more important than your damn toes.

“You alright, angel?” Ricks voice is soft as it travels to your spot on the stairs, swiveling around to see both men eyeing you down. Gaze travveling up your bare legs to your tiny little boy shorts and the oversized sweater with a stretched out collar and way too many holes in it.

“Mhm.” You quip, flashing a candy sweet smile.

“You’re pacin’. What’s up?” Daryl isn’t convinced as he looks you in the eyes, elbows leaned onto his knees. Still in his work clothes. Jacket, vest and jeans. Even his boots are still laced up.

“I just-" you look down at your bare toes. All prepped for paint, cut and filed and screaming at you to give them some colour. “Can one of you help me paint my toes?”

The way both of their faces soften at your answer gives you butterflies. They’re always way too worried. Too on edge. Especially when it comes to you. Wanting to protect you. Keep you safe and healthy and happy. So that’s why when they notice you pacing in the kitchen at half past midnight, they jump to their own little conclusions about what might be wrong. About what could possibly be going on in that beautiful mind of yours.

“C’mhere.” Rick pats a hand on the couch cushion next to him which you happily take. Practically skipping over and plopping down, ass on the cushion and feet in his lap.

He takes the bottle and gives it a little shake before continuing his conversation with Daryl, who doesn’t seem to be listening as attentively as he was before. With you laying on the couch, long legs sprawled out and a sleepy smile on your pretty face, you’ve become quite the distraction.

Ricks hands are warm as he holds your feet, carefully painting each nail, all while he stays talking. You hear snippets like, “- well if we do that, then they’ll just be headed for Oceanside. We need to find a route that makes sense for everyone, even if it means-” but you aren’t really listening. You’re more focused on making heart eyes with Daryl and playing with a loose string on the hem of your sweater. Eyes growing heavy with each coat of paint. The intoxicating, chemical smell that you've weirdly enough grown to love, fills the room and your feet tickle when rick blows cool air on them. Closing the bottle and popping it back into your hand while he leans back and asks Daryl something off topic about a run with Aaron. thumb running over your foot, hand traveling up your calf and gently massaging the muscle there. You sink even further into the couch, all warm and tired and cozier then ever. The combination of Ricks touch sending tingles up your spine, and the drawl of both their voices, act in accordance to lull you right to sleep.

You know that even if you do fall asleep here on the couch, it's no big deal. They'd carry you to bed in a heartbeat. They have before. So you let your eyes flutter shut under the comforting fact that you’re sure to wake up in clean, warm covers with a man on either side of you and two big arms wrapped around your waist.

[screamingintothestarss]

blue milk & roses

summary: you’ve been down lately, and hunter does something special for you

pairing: hunter x reader

rating: general

warnings: light kissing, sickly sweet fluff

word count: 997

authors note: apologies for any grammatical and spelling errors, i proofread as intensely as my smooth brain could

~~~~

The first rays of sunlight warm your eyelids, barely opening in response. Sleep weighs on you like a thick blanket, and you have no intention of shaking it off. A gentle groan tickles your throat, and you roll over, instinctively grabbing hold of the man next to you. You suspected he was using your various scrubs and bodywashes in the fresher, but you didn't remember him being this soft. You call out his name, an unintelligible mumble, and get no response.

"Hunter?" you repeat clearly now. Your eyes remain shut, too exhausted to even bother opening them. You lightly slap his form. "C'mon babe what's wrong...you've never given me the silent treatment," you rasp. 

No response. 

Your eyes snap open at his silence, and you prop yourself up on an elbow, ready to discuss whatever the hell this is, but he isn't there. You attempt to wipe the fog covering your eyes and blink. 

You'd been talking to his pillow.

"Ugh," you drawl, and plop right back down into the bedsheets. You sling a lazy elbow over your eyes in an attempt to block out the sun's warm assault. You raise your leg, heavy as durasteel, and use your foot to push the curtains closer together. Rays retreat into the window, and your leg drops back onto the mattress. You wonder where Hunter's gone off to, but sleep overtakes you instead. 

--

His eyes rake over your sleeping form with complete adoration. A calloused palm cradles your face, and he swears he's never felt anything softer. Gentle moonlight spills through the window, painting your bodies. He thinks you look ethereal like this, your peaceful face and pouty lips bathed in blues. He resists the urge to kiss you.

He's more than aware of how difficult things have been for you lately--coming home late, a drag in your feet, your clothes haphazardly strewn around the room with little consideration, your typical demeanor replaced by a mellow somberness. He knows you're tired, so he picked up the half you couldn't carry and set it on his shoulders. He'd walk a thousand miles just to see you smile. He knows this storm will pass, but he wants to cherish this peace you have right now.

Your lips part slightly as you fall deeper into sleep. Hunter cautiously takes your hips and slots you against him. He begins to cradle you, but you stir.

"Hunter?" a sigh breezes past your lips, barely audible. 

He shushes you lovingly and spoons you. You fall asleep instantly.

--

You leave the fresher, your step a little lighter than before. Last night was the best sleep you'd gotten in a while, despite the interruption. You get dressed and step out of your shared bedroom, and a pleasant smell fills your senses with warmth. You pad over to the kitchen, and your heart nearly overheats. 

The table is set perfectly for two, your chair already pulled out. A gorgeous arrangement of pink and white flowers takes the center, bright and lively. You don't miss how your favorite breakfast foods decorate your plate--steaming hot. A chilled glass of blue milk waits for you. 

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Hunter comes from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. His eyes never leave you--how could they? 

It's as if the air had been knocked from your lungs; you had no words to cough up. You stare at the arrangement, your lips parted and eyebrows all furrowed. Red bleeds onto your skin like watercolor on a page, and your vision goes misty.

He picks up on this immediately, setting the towel down and making his way to you. 

Calloused palms meet soft skin. "Hey, I didn't mean to-"

"I love you!" the words etched in your heart come crashing through your lips, and Hunter thinks he might combust.

His eyes soften and he holds you. You melt into him, like two pieces of a puzzle, you fit together perfectly. You tuck your chin into his shoulder and his cheek nestles in your hair. 

"I love you too," he says, resolute and affirming. "I knew you'd been having a hard time lately, and I...I just wanted to do something different for you."

You can't find the words, so you hold him tighter. 

"I got Echo and some other friends of mine to help out, which is why the house isn't currently in flames," he chuckles, and you laugh into his chest. "Thought about getting the rest of the boys but eh, they're no better than I am."

You straighten up and set your eyes upon his, and sparkling brown irises are peering back at you.

"It's perfect."

You place a chaste kiss on his lips before sitting down, and he tries to mentally extinguish the fire in his veins. He takes his seat across from you.

You stare at the flowers for a beat, a vibrant assortment of pinks and white with petals like butter. 

"They're beautiful, but they're spoiling the view," you tease.

"I'm inclined to agree," a husky timbre rattles around the space and into your ears, leaving you hot. He sets the vase on the kitchen counter and returns his attention to you, but you've already dug in. 

--

You lay in bed, the moon taking refuge by your window tonight. You trace the sharp planes of his face, stubble tickling your palm. His breathing is steady and gentle. A quiet sigh comes from him, and your heart nearly beats through your chest.

Your mind replays today's events: the brunch with him, a movie, general canoodling, and plenty of stolen kisses. He's like a tree, you think--solid and stoic and sturdy, yet giving life to everything around him. 

His visage begins to blur into hues of blue and black as your eyes slip closed. He's slung his arm around your middle at some point, and your legs are all tangled together. You sigh contentedly, heart and stomach full. 

You sleep better than you ever have. 

ending note: i have been diagnosed with hunter disease, and i hope they don’t find a cure anytime soon

[serverusslaype]

Shameless, pt. 12

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hello fellow snape lovers, i have returned with another long part. i hope you are ready. <3 and i hope it lives up to your expectations.

all of your replies to my question about snape's patronus was really interesting! the majority thought it was either a raven, a bat or a falcon. a raven/falcon is quite fitting for him, i do agree. :) but the bat is just too cute tbh. 🥹 🦇

i just want to say hello to anyone new that has found this fic, you are very welcome here!! thank you for taking a chance on this! and thank you to the people who have been here since the beginning! :) appreciate you all so much. you're all way too kind. honestly. thank you <3

okay, so without further ado, let's get on with this!

okayyy lets go!

this song is best played when we look through Minerva McGonagall's perspective at dinner. :) or, you can listen to it throughout the whole fic or not at all it's up to you <3

Your mind was abuzz with the fresh memory of Severus's hands all over your body as you tiptoed back to your quarters at almost one o'clock in the morning, a giddy smile slipping onto your lips. You had to utilise every remaining ounce of strength within you to hold yourself back from skipping back to your room - the happiness that was bubbling inside of you was nothing like you'd ever felt before.

As you rounded the corner, a light was pooling out from beneath your door, and your body suddenly felt unbearably cold. You stopped in your tracks and the happy smile on your face disappeared within seconds. Ben must have woken up.

Swallowing, you padded forwards and adjusted your nightdress with nervous fingers to assure everything looked normal - or at least not like you'd just been ravished by none other than Severus Snape. A chill shivered over your body as his name lingered in your mind, tickling every inch of your skin. You had to force yourself to push him out of your brain for now, otherwise you were going to go insane. Reaching the door, your hand settled itself on the handle, but it wasn't opening it. You knew why - you were about to see Ben and lie to his face about where you'd been, pretending like you weren't just moaning the name of a man he hated with such a fiery passion.

There was that tingle between your legs again.

Before you were able to twist the knob of the door, it was pulled open, revealing the tired, worried face of the man you were supposedly dating. Your face instantly went as red as a tomato.

"Y/N? Where the hell did you go? Jesus- I've been so worried about you," Ben sighed heavily, his hand flying to your wrist to grasp it, a little too tightly. "You're insane to go wandering about at this time of night when Black is still at large!" His voice grew louder, piercing your ears. You winced slightly at the noise, shrinking.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep, I just needed to..." you trailed off, panicking for a moment, "walk."

"You should have woken me, I would've come with you." He said, widened eyes staring uncomfortably into yours. You started to feel a little bad about worrying him so much. His eyes seemed so tired, how long had he been awake for?

"I'm sorry," you repeated, tugging your wrist from him, "I'll wake you next time." You sighed quietly as Ben didn't let go of your wrist. "Ben, c'mon, I'm tired." His eyes trailed down to your bloodied finger as he raised your wrist up to his face.

"What happened to your finger?" He questioned, his tone low. The moisture in your mouth had suddenly vanished as your eyes flicked to his narrowed ones, your heart beginning to pick up in pace.

"I took a shortcut through some rose bushes," You lied. Almost immediately, the ripped hem of your nightdress came to mind. Shit, you totally forgot to fix that. "I even ripped the hem of my nightdress." You pouted, pointing at the damaged part of your clothing.

"No other way around it?" Ben laughed, his lips curling upwards. You weren't sure whether it was the paranoia kicking in or what, but to you, his laugh sounded like he didn't believe you.

"No, it would've taken me an extra five minutes or so." You said quietly, staring.

"That's funny," he shrugged, dropping your hand carelessly, "I don't remember there being any rose bushes at Hogwarts." His tone was accusatory, sharp, and cold. Your jaw stiffened.

"What, so you can remember every plant grown on the grounds here but you couldn't remember anything in Herbology class all those years ago?" You laughed back, your brows furrowing as you stared up at him.

He doesn't know, he can't... right? Gods, you really didn't have the energy for this if he did know. There was no way in hell you could handle an argument right now. Suddenly the idea of paying Severus a visit in the middle of the night was a terrible one. It's not like you were expecting to sleep with him, you just wanted to talk, however, one thing just led to another...

"Well..." He hummed, clearly caught up in your words. You were a little relieved, but you weren't out of the woodworks yet.

"I don't know if it was a rose bush or not, I just know it had thorns- ...it was too dark to see, really." You added with a soft tone, hoping it'd settle his racing mind.

"Alright." Ben sighed, evidently letting it go. You held back a sigh of relief, and instead smiled. "I'm just glad you're okay. My mind was conjuring up all sorts of... horrible things." He said, pulling you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, glad he didn't kiss you. The only lips you wanted on top of yours weren't his. "You won't be leaving my sight from now on."

"What?" You choked out, pulling away from him and placing a firm hand on his chest to push him back. Ben wrapped his fingers around your wrist again, pulling you into him.

"I have to keep you safe, Y/N." Ben frowned at you, confused at your sudden change of heart. Little did he know, your heart never changed, it had always been with someone else. You struggled with his tightening grip, wincing slightly as his fingers pinched you. You weren't exactly sure what to say in response, and so you stood there, dumbfounded and speechless. "I can't let Black hurt you."

"Dumbledore said he left. I'll be fine." You tried to persuade him into changing his mind, however he was persistent.

"I don't care what Dumbledore said." He snapped, a flicker of anger flashing across his eyes. You reeled back slightly, a little frightened from his outburst. "Now, let's go to bed, you said you were tired."

Speechless, you nodded, not wanting to push him further, you weren't exactly sure how he'd react. Maybe he was just overly tired. You hoped you'd only have to deal with this for a few more days, the way he was treating you was lower than low - he never acted like this back in school, the most he'd do was insult you playfully, but that was it. He only every caused mischief. Perhaps this Ministry job had gotten to his head...

"Sir," a shaky voice came from beside Snape, "I forgot the, erm, the..." The student trailed off, his voice suddenly retreating back inside his throat.

"Yes, Mr Harlem, spit it out..." Snape drawled, his eyes glued to the wall. Teaching a class of seventh-years was easier said than done - they were on the cusp of adulthood, and so navigating their hormonal and volatile attitudes was frustrating enough for the Potions Master.

"I forgot to get the a-asphodel root." Barnaby Harlem uttered, his body almost trembling from fear. An irritated huff fell from Snape. He thought incompetency had outgrown them, clearly, he was very wrong.

"How helpful, and," Professor Snape said flatly, turning to face the boy, "what a promising show of what's to come in your future, Mr Harlem." He finished with a scowl. "You are in your final year and yet, you are negligent enough to let a simple ingredient slip your little mind?"

"Well, it-"

"Silence," Snape huffed again, "I will go and retrieve it, I do not trust you to not go running off somewhere..." Honestly, it was just an excuse to go and see you. Harlem shrunk in his seat as the rest of the class tried to hide their amused faces behind their hands. Snape rolled his eyes at them, dramatically sweeping towards the door. "I expect half a parchment's worth of writing when I get back. Use what's left of your brains to turn to page one-hundred-and-forty-two and explain the other uses of the Draught of Living Death... in detail." Snape demanded, earning a deflated chorus of groans from the class.

"Mr Robinson, thirty points from Gryffindor for being such a whiny little rodent." Was the last thing Snape said as he left the room and made his journey to your greenhouses. Perhaps that was a little harsh, but that boy had been irritating him all morning.

Severus wasn't sure if you were going to be at your greenhouse, but it'd be a pleasant surprise if you were. If you weren't, he'd just leave a note, like you'd requested all that time ago.

Your heart almost fell out of your mouth as you caught sight of a tall, black figure stood patiently at your glass door. You were in the middle of teaching a class, with Ben sat at the back no less, observing, acting like your personal bodyguard. You had tried to persuade him- no, you tried to tell him that he didn't need to watch you teach, but the man was undoubtedly stubborn.

'It'll be fun to watch you work, anyway,' he'd said with a smug smile, brushing past you towards your greenhouse.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, panicking slightly. Did he really think it wise to visit you at such a time? The thrum in your chest began to speed up, blood rushing to your cheeks to paint them a gorgeous shade of scarlet. You quickly shook your head to entice your hair to fall forwards and act like a curtain to hide your blushing cheeks.

"Oh, Professor Snape, to what, erm, to what do I owe the pleasure?" You stumbled over your words slightly, coughing quietly - a pathetic attempt to hide your faltering voice. The corner of Severus's lip twitched slightly, thoroughly enjoying your flustered reaction. He absolutely adored how red your cheeks had become, in fact, he found himself thinking back to last night when he had you looking a similar way when his hands were caressing your smooth, delicious skin.

"Another student of mine forgot a rather significant ingredient for their potion, hence my presence, Professor L/N." Snape's cold tone had returned, nipping at you. The whole class had gone silent, either dumbstruck that the Potions Master was stood in their class, or the fact that there was a strange tension between the two of you.

"Oh, right," you stumbled again, "what do you need?"

"Asphodel root." He replied, casting a cold glance at your class as the eerie sensation of being watched crept up his spine. Instantly, they looked away, eyes wide and heads down.

"Brewing the Draught of Living Death again?" You made small talk, your voice returning to it's normal octave as you stood awkwardly.

"Indeed," He drawled boredly, his eyes catching sight of Ben sat in the back of your classroom, surrounded by big, green leafy plants. Snape kept his poker face on, and ignored the boy who was currently shooting daggers at him through his beady little eyes. He looked back to you. "Where might I find it?"

"Erm, beside... Mr Bluewater, just in those wooden cupboards." You replied, your voice quietening as you nodded towards Ben. A deep, frustrated sigh fell from Snape as he blinked slowly at you, evidently annoyed with the fact he had to go near Ben, let alone possibly talk to him. How was he acting so suavely? And you were this bumbling, stumbling mess?

Without another word, Snape sweeped to the back of the class to where Ben was sat, ignoring him. He didn't even utter a word to him as he bent down to open the doors, rummaging through it. That was until Ben decided to speak.

"You know, it's common courtesy to acknowledge someone," Ben muttered as you continued teaching the class, his eyes glued to you. Snape rose to his feet with the jar of asphodel root in hand. "But, I suppose someone like you lacks that certain aspect." He finished with a sour face.

"I prefer to acknowledge people who are of importance," Snape said flatly, towering over the boy, "and you, Mr Bluewater, regrettably do not fit those requirements." His tone was sharp and clipped, clearly not enjoying this interaction.

"You should watch your mouth, Snape." Ben warned, his eyes darting to Snape and narrowing into a weak glare. Snape's face remained unchanged and uneffected.

"Why? Would you dare assault a member of staff?" Snape taunted, suddenly realising that his presence was irking Ben more than usual. He couldn't miss this perfect opportunity.

"I might just." Ben replied swiftly. This was laughable, of course he wouldn't do that, Snape knew he wasn't stupid.

"The Ministry wouldn't be so forgiving if they heard you committed such a thing," Snape replied and linked his hands behind his back, his black cloak flowing over his arms, "in fact, I believe you'd lose your precious job."

"It'd be worth it." Ben hissed.

"Would it?" Snape tutted, his tone sarcastic and mocking, only infuriating Ben more.

"I'm the best at my job. They wouldn't fire me, they need me." Ben snapped, his irritation reaching a new level as he quarrelled with Snape.

"Is that why they've allowed you to be off-site, lingering around here at Hogwarts like a lost fly? Because you're so needed?" Snape smirked, relishing Ben's frustration. "I highly doubt they'd think well of you for abandoning your work to keep a concerningly close eye on your..." Snape's lips twitched into a grim, flat line, visibly struggling to say the next word. "...lady-friend." Ben's eyes narrowed at Snape, observing how he had trouble talking about you in such a way.

The boy stayed silent. He had nothing to reply back with - Snape had called his bluff, and he knew it. Meanwhile, as you were teaching, you'd been keeping an eye on the two men at the back of your class, quietly squabbling. Though, your eyes tended to linger on only one of them.

Snape spun on his heel, leaving Ben to boil in his anger. A smug smirk quickly crossed the Potion Master's face as he noticed your eyes stuck to him like a magnet. You rolled them and folded your arms against your chest as wiggled your jaw at him, clearly unhappy with how pleased he looked. He walked towards you, jar of asphodel root in hand and that same smirk still on his lips. You sucked in a sharp breath as he neared you, your heart entering that familiar fast pace everytime you were less than a metre away from him.

You could feel Ben's eyes burning into the pair of you, the overflowing jealousy and hate prickling your skin like a thousand needles.

"Thank you, Y/N." Severus said, his face dropping back into it's usual bored expression. 

Ben was truly starting to despise how Snape looked at you, and how he acted towards you. He'd noticed how Snape wouldn't insult you nor try to tear you down, since that's usually his first choice when talking to someone - unless he respected them. You'd been here just over two years, and you were also one of his old students, so why and how had you gained his respect so quickly? It's not like you had any incredible achievements or skills that he could possibly fawn over. The thought pecked annoyingly at Ben's brain as he watched the two of you exchange words.

You cleared your throat, unfolding your arms and clasping your hands together in front of your hips. "It's my pleasure, Severus." You smiled politely at him, his eyes lingering on yours for a little too long. You swallowed, becoming flustered again, so you glanced away, your eyes catching sight of how Ben was almost exploding with rage.

Severus swept past you, purposefully brushing the edge of his arm against your shoulder, sending your mind into a clouded haze.

You had to fight with all of your might to compose yourself as a whole class of curious, prying eyes stared at you. It had almost slipped your mind that you were in the middle of teaching. You glanced over at Ben, whose fierce eyes were still trailing after Snape, even after he had left.

"Sorry for the interruption," you smiled at the children, sighing deeply, "so, dittany. Can anyone tell me the properties and uses of it?" There was several seconds of silence before a young brunette boy raised his hand hesitantly, clearly nervous. "Yes, Mr Thomas?"

"Erm," he swallowed, glancing around at his peers who were now staring at him expectantly, "i-it, well- dittany is very useful for healing." Almost immediately, he reminded you of Neville Longbottom.

A smile spread across your face as you nodded at the boy. "Yes, very good," you said, "and what can you use it for?"

"Um, potion-making," He stuttered for a moment, his face going red as you put him on the spot. "It can also be used in wand cores I think, and most importantly, healing magic?" Thomas answered you, his voice shooting up an octave as he finished his sentence.

"Yes, well done! Ten points to Hufflepuff!" You cheered with a wide grin, a swell of pride blooming in your chest. It was difficult not to be biased towards your own house... With a brief spin, you turned around to grab a stem of dittany that you had set aside for the lesson and twirled back around to the class to hold it up for them all to see. "This is the herb that we've been talking about. It's quite common-looking, although, you can easily identify it by carefully looking at it's small, round leaves." You explained, handing it to a student to look at. "Pass it around, have a look, and then we can begin talking about where to harvest it and how to care for it."

Before you knew it, the school day was over, and the clock was almost striking six o'clock in the evening. Ben had been smothering you all day, and you couldn't wait to escape him for a while to have dinner with your other bearable colleagues. Despite your irritation with him, you knew he was just doing it out of the good of his own heart - or so you thought, but it was becoming a little too much for you. It's not like you needed twenty-four-seven babysitting.

"I'm going to head down for dinner, will you be alright up here?" You asked Ben as you fixed your hair into a messy half-up-half-down style, pulling a few strands out at the top of your head to frame your face.

"You look pretty." Ben commented as he was sat back on your sofa, a book in hand. You turned around to face him slowly, a small smile gracing your lips.

"Thank you," You lifted a hand to smooth out your dress, rubbing off a bit of dust that had been sitting on it. "You have good taste, I suppose." You shrugged, your forced smile widening a bit as he relaxed into his normal self. Ben had bought you a deep red, floor length dress with a square neckline. The trumpet sleeves reached your wrists, drooping a little at the ends. You weren't the biggest fan of it, but you couldn't exactly say you hated a gift that he'd given you.

"That I do." Ben nodded smugly, standing up from the sofa to walk over to you in a slow manner. Ah, no you don't, you thought. You swallowed and arched an eyebrow, eyeing him cautiously. "You look great in my house colours." A smirk tickled his lips. You couldn't help but disagree with him, you thought you looked much better in yellow, and perhaps, another certain colour.

"Ben," you warned, holding out a flat palm, "I don't want to be late to dinner. And, I really don't want to ruin this dress."

"I can easily replace it." He shrugged, snaking his hands around your waist. Quickly, your hands flew to his to remove them, placing them back by his sides.

"I'm serious, Ben." You sighed, forcing a playful smile onto your lips, gazing up at him. "I'd like to keep my punctual reputation." A sour expression took hold of his features. You forgot how emotionally immature he was compared to Severus.

"Alright. But afterwards, I'm going to show you a good time." He smirked, and you had to hold back a cringe, instead opting to act like you were intrigued. Merlin, you missed how well-spoken Severus was.

"I'd love to, but I have a meeting with Professor Lupin right after. So I might be late back. Don't wait up for me." You explained, turning away from him to take another quick look in the mirror. This dress was doing you no favours. At. All.

It was a little ill-fitting, and the sleeves were drowning your hands, making it look as if you were some Wicked Witch of the West. Was Ben purposefully trying to make you look bad?

"Professor Lupin? Why?" He questioned, that curious, almost demanding tone returning. It made your skin crawl. You hoped he was going to leave soon, though you weren't sure of it. He seemed to be making himself at home here.

"He's going to be teaching me a self-defence spell." You replied nonchalantly, clasping your hands together in front of you.

"Self-defence? I can help you with that, what is it? I know almost all of them."

"I appreciate the thought, but Remus has a lot more experience in this kind of thing." You sighed, getting a little miffed with his attitude.

"Oh, right." Ben huffed, padding back over to the sofa and falling back into it with a loud thud; arms folded against his chest in a show of annoyance.

For once, you felt like yourself again as you walked down the corridors alone, heading towards the Great Hall. You gained a couple stares from students as you passed them, and you assumed it was because of your dress - it wasn't your usual taste, you usually opted for yellow, or earthy colours, and this deep red was definitely rather... out there. You didn't have a chance to say no either - Ben had made you wear it, which irked you a little. With him around, you felt like you had no say in anything.

You'd chosen the easier entrance - the little door behind the staff tables. You grew a little anxious at the thought of having to walk down that neverending hall.

As you clicked the door shut, Minerva looked in your direction, her brow arching up as she glanced at your dress, a tiny smirk gracing her lips. Your cheeks grew hot, as you noticed her smiling to herself, obviously finding amusement in your rather... different choice in clothing.

"This was Ben's choice in clothing, not mine." You grumbled, sliding past her and catching Hagrid's attention who was seated beside her like usual.

"I didn't say anything, my dear." Minerva couldn't hide her amusement any longer, a brief laugh slipped from her wrinked, mischievous lips.

"You didn't need to, your face already did," You sighed, glancing at Hagrid who's face had turned red as he stared at your outfit. "Evening, Hagrid..." Another grumble left you as you realised what kind of evening you were in for.

"Erm, evenin' Miss- I mean, Y/N." Hagrid stumbled over his words, evidently a little dumbstruck by what you were wearing. Gods, you truly wished you had a little more control, you would've just chosen a bloody bin bag over this disaster. "Lovely dress." He commented, swallowing awkwardly.

"Thanks, Hagrid." You sighed softly, a little smile picking at the corner of your lips. Hagrid was sweet but awkward, and that's something you adored about the half-giant.

Your eyes flicked away from Hagrid and settled on the shorter professor beside him, "Filius," you smiled again, a little glad that he had chosen not to comment on your dress.

"Good evening, Y/N." He returned your smile, though it seemed a little too... happy. You groaned, realising that, he too, was surprised at your dress.

"Alright, alright, get your laughs out now..." You huffed, sitting down in the empty chair which sat to the right of Dumbledore's.

"Oh, don't be silly, Y/N," Minerva frowned, although you could see another smile was begging to break out on her face again. "You look beautiful." You turned to her and made a face, huffing and puffing like an annoyed little child.

"Yeah, right, Minerva." You groaned, fiddling with the itching material.

"Do you own a mirror? Or perhaps, are you aware of what one is?" A deep voice sounded from beside you, making you jump in your seat. You whipped your head to see Severus stood with a smug face, his lips curling up into an amused smirk. "From what I can see, you do not."

"This," you gestured to your dress with frustrated hands, "wasn't my choice, it was Ben's..." You grumbled once more, turning away from him with folded arms, clearly bothered by his comment. Severus took the empty seat beside you, unable to contain his amusement.

"This might be the only time that I find Bluewater entertaining." Severus said, leaning back in his chair.

"Shut up."

"Perhaps I'd listen to you if you weren't dressed like the villain of a fairytale." Severus quipped, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. You hated how your cheeks instantly warmed at the sound. "Where on Earth did he find such a... revolting garment? The colour alone is ghastly."

"I dunno." You sunk into your chair, folding your arms against your chest, evidently rather miffed with the teasing. Severus couldn't help himself, you looked so cute when you were annoyed.

"I wouldn't put it past him for knowing all the worst clothing shops." Severus sneered, taking another reluctant glance at your outfit. You groaned again, placing your head in your hands regrettably. Suddenly, a hot, ticklish sensation bristled against your neck and it made your hairs stand on end, "I must say," he whispered into your ear, "you look much prettier in green." Your breath hitched, and you nudged his knee with your own, silently chastising his risky action.

"Of course you'd think that." You whispered back, blushing. As he leant away, a tiny hint of a smile teased your lips.

"Obviously." Severus smirked, keeping his eyes glued in front of him.

There was several seconds of silence before you chose to talk, your curiosity getting the better of you as you thought back to the interaction between Ben and Severus during your lesson. "What were you and Ben talking about at the back of my class earlier today?"

"Bluewater's arrogance got the best of him." Severus simply said, his brow twitching upwards.

"Yeah," you hummed, nodding, "that makes sense, I suppose." An exhausted, quiet sigh fell from your nose. Severus caught wind of it and turned towards you with furrowed brows.

"Does he act like that with you?"

"No- well, yes, but no," You sighed again, sitting up in your seat as you stumbled over your words. "When I came back from... seeing... you, he was awake-"

"Did he hurt you?" Severus interrupted you as quick as lightning, his face thunderous as his head snapped to face yours, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Merlin, if that little weasel hurt you, only God could save him now.

"No- he was just a little..." You shook your head, your fingers absentmindedly slipping to the wrist that Ben had gripped tightly.

"A little what?" Severus's eyes fell to where your fingers were, growing worried.

"Rough." You shrugged, swallowing.

"...Rough?" Severus repeated, spitting the word out like he'd just tasted poison.

"It's nothing, honestly, he hasn't done it since." You glanced up at the Potions Master, who looked absolutely furious. In fact, it looked like he could kill someone right then and there.

"If he laid a hand on you, Y/N, I don't think it's 'nothing'." His voice was deep, serious. The care he expressed for you made your skin feel a little hot, even though the situation was a bit inappropriate.

"He didn't, I swear, he just... grabbed my wrist a little harshly, that's it." You replied, your eyes flicking between his that were quickly filling with fury.

"If he hurts you, you will tell me." Severus said quietly, though his tone was still rather solid and serious. "I loathe the fact that I can't keep you from harm whilst Bluewater's still.. lolling around like some blithering idiot." He added, whispering. That familiar warmth bloomed in your chest again, and you couldn't fight the smile that danced onto your face.

"Like I said, once he leaves Hogwarts, I'll end it. He's a little... unpredictable, you could say, at the moment." You sighed, your eyes falling to your lap where you fidgeted with your fingers underneath the table, your mind creeping back to the moments where Ben had acted a little strangely. "I don't want any drama to happen here, it's... I just don't."

A cool hand settled atop of your moving digits, and within seconds, you felt at ease. "If you need me to accompany you, I will." Severus muttered, his eyes returning to the tables of students that were quickly filling up. You didn't look up at him, afraid that someone might notice, and so you kept your eyes down, instead opting to trace your thumb against the back of his hand. This was a very intimate moment between the two of you, and you suddenly found yourself wishing it wasn't happening in the Great Hall, surrounded by your colleagues and students.

"I'm not sure that'd be a good idea," you hummed thoughtfully, "I don't think he'd take it well if he saw you with me. He hates you enough, I'm not sure he can hate you much more. It might just push him over the edge." You added with a soft chuckle, earning a gentle huff from the man beside you.

"How terrible," Severus said flatly, his tone soaked with sarcasm. The corner of your lip quirked up at his dry humour. "I don't doubt it would." He was silent again, evidently busy in that brilliant mind of his that you had grown to adore. "Even so, why did you choose to date such a delinquent?"

"Erm..." Your face flushed red again, and your thumb froze atop of his hand.

Little did you know, Minerva had been carefully observing the two of you. She sat on the far right corner of the long table, by the door you had entered through; her wrinkled eyes soft and admiring. A small, content smile crept onto her lips as she stared at you and Severus talking quietly amongst yourselves. Perhaps she was wrong about the two of you - maybe you were just what the other needed. She'd never seen Severus look so enamoured with someone, let alone happy. She'd noticed how his eyes twinkled brighter, how his words had become lighter, and how his previously gloomy energy had entirely shifted ever since you returned to Hogwarts.

Minerva wasn't going to stand in the way of Severus's happiness, God knows he needs it. Even though you hadn't been around for long, she had a fairly strong feeling that you were going to change him for the better, perhaps even forever. That's what she hoped at least, and the glowing smiles on your faces were concrete evidence of that. Now, she just hoped you'd see the same and end things with Ben. Had Minerva seen how you and Severus looked at and acted with one another, she would have felt like a fool for encouraging you to stay with Ben.

A creak sounded to the left of her, "Everythin' a'right?" Hagrid asked, leaning down to reach her ear. Minerva looked up at the professor and sighed gently, her shoulders relaxing as she glanced back to you and Severus, a warmth enveloping her heart as she saw his hand in your lap, gently holding your hand with such tenderness and care. She blinked rapidly as she continued to stare, a little taken aback at the unusual gesture from Severus. The older witch had never seen him do such a thing.

At that moment, she knew she was wrong. Merlin, she was so wrong. How could he hurt you when he held you so tenderly? There was more to this than just lust, and perhaps spontaneity. There was a much, much deeper side, and she could see it now. Severus cared for you, deeply. It was in his eyes, his actions, his body language. Everything was pointing to... love.

"Everything is wonderful, Hagrid." Minerva's smile widened as she finally tore her eyes away from the pair of you, letting them fall back onto Hagrid's inquisitive ones.

"Oh, well," Hagrid replied, smiling, "good, good." A pleasant chuckle rumbled in his huge chest. "Can't wait fer dinner." He added as a gurgle sounded from his rotund stomach. Rolling her eyes amusedly at Hagrid's words, Minerva cast one last glimpse at the two of you, her heart almost bursting with joy as she saw the faintest hint of a genuine smile on Severus's face. He was smiling.

Dinner couldn't have gone better for you. Forgetting about the whole awful dress ordeal, it went more than well. Currently, you were walking to Lupin's classroom, a thrilling concoction of excitement and anxiety swirling around inside of you.

"Remus?" You called out as you opened his classroom door, the creak of the old oak door echoing. There wasn't an answer. Your brows furrowed as you glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was seven o'clock in the evening, like you'd agreed. Perhaps he's running late, or... he forgot, you thought, a little pang shooting through your heart. You didn't see him at dinner either.

"Ah, Y/N, right on time!" Lupin's enthusiastic voice came from behind you and your whole body flinched. He could have at least made his presence known in a quieter way, you thought to yourself as you tried to calm your racing heart. 

"Bloody hell!" Your shoulders tensed up as you spun around to face the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, exhaling through your nose. Lupin chuckled at you, obviously amused by your skittish reaction. "I thought you'd forgotten." You hummed, half-smiling at him. Lupin's brows furrowed at you.

"Now, why would I do that?" He tilted his head at you, scooching past you to slip into his room, flicking his wand to ignite some candles. You pursed your lips at his words, unsure, instead opting to shrug at him. Lupin offered you a kind smile and beckoned you to follow him up the short set of stairs to the adjoined office.

"So, you wish to learn how to produce a Patronus charm, correct?" Remus asked as he padded towards a brown chest, leaning against it with folded arms. You stopped short from him and nodded.

"Hopefully, yes," you chuckled, swallowing, "I'd rather not go through that whole... ordeal again." A nervous grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you fidgeted with your wand that rested comfortably in your hands.

"Before we begin, do you know what a Patronus is?" Remus questioned, raising his bushy brows at you, curious.

"Yes." You nodded, waiting patiently.

"Alright. I want you to think of a happy memory, a very happy one, at that, and picture it in your mind," Remus paused, leaning forwards a tad. "Close your eyes, and concentrate for me."

You closed your eyes and shuffled through your memories, a certain one of you and your childhood bestfriend sticking out. The two of you were running on a beach together, giggling your little heads off. You remembered how the wet sand felt between your toes as you sprinted across the shoreline with your friend, tickling the soles of your tiny feet; the way the salty wind whipped through your hair and filled your nose with the briny, tangy smell of the ocean.

"Hey! No fair!" You'd screamed at your friend, a bright and mischievous grin painted on your innocent face as they'd just tagged you in a game of 'It'.

A tiny smile picked at the corner of your lips as you reminisced.

"Allow yourself to explore your past," Remus said softly as he circled you, "Let the memory fill you up, then speak the incantation, 'Expecto Patronum'."

"Expecto Patronum." You repeated with closed eyes, focusing solely on your childhood memory.

"Very good." Remus commented. "Shall we?" He asked, prompting you to open your eyes. You gave him a confident nod, taking a deep breath. "Now, this is a boggart, it's not the real thing of course. I'd be a brainless fool to bring you a true dementor to practice on." Remus joked lightly. You huffed amusedly, feeling your heart start to hammer against your ribcage, anxiously anticipating Lupin to open the chest.

"Okay, I'm ready." You nodded once more, drawing your wand. With alert eyes, you watched as Remus opened it, a billowing cloud of dark fog spilling out of the chest as a dementor revealed itself; that same haunting rattling-like sucking nose emitting from it's mouth. Your breath hitched at the sight, and your legs went numb.

"Expecto Patronum!" You exclaimed, focusing intently on the memory in your mind. Your lungs heaved as you noticed nothing was appearing from your wand. With frightened eyes, you glanced at Remus as the dementor approached you, it's hands raising upwards as if to grab you. "Expecto Patronum!" You called out once more. Nothing happened. Remus quickly rushed in front of you and cast out his arms.

"Here!" He yelled, and you watched in awe as the dementor quickly transformed into a full moon, shrouded in clouds. "Riddikulus!" Remus chanted, flicking his wand at the boggart. You turned away from Lupin and let a quiet sigh of irritation slip from your lips. "You'll get there, Y/N. You're a strong witch." Lupin assured you, his voice confident. You heard the chest click shut behind you.

"Again." You simply said, inhaling deeply as you turned around, catching a surprised look on Lupin's face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I want to do this. I don't care how long it takes." With balled fists, you felt your nails dig into your palms.

"I admire your determination," Remus smiled crookedly at you, nodding. "Alright, let's go. Ready?"

"Ready."

More than an hour - or so you thought - had passed, and you were still by Lupin's side, persisting relentlessly through each attempt at casting the charm. You knew it'd take a while, but you thought you would've been able to have gotten somewhat close. That just wasn't the case.

Again, you found yourself facing the boggart as it emerged from the chest engulfed in a dark, gritty-coloured fog, floating harrowingly towards you. That same forsaken noise echoed within the office once more, and you drew your wand, pointing it at the dementor, unyielding.

"Expecto Patronum!" You shouted, the grip on your wand tightening with every suffocating breath you took. Nothing happened. Again.

Without delay, Lupin flicked his wand and kicked the boggart back into the chest as you tried to catch your breath. It felt like you'd been in here for days, exhausting every inch of your trembling body.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, not everyone manages to produce a patronus on their first lesson." Lupin offered you a kind smile, his eyes gazing over your heaving frame. You shook your head at him, refusing to give up. "May I ask what you were thinking of? Maybe it wasn't powerful enough."

"It was a memory from, uh, my childhood- erm," You panted, standing up a little straighter. "I was playing a game with my best friend on the beach."

"Oh, Y/N, that's not nearly enough. You need a memory that evokes such a compelling... and-and passionate feeling within you, that it's almost... overwhelming." Lupin explained, stepping forwards, shoving his hands into his pockets lazily. You shut your eyes again, determined. Suddenly, the thought of Severus popped into your mind, and a small smile tickled your lips. You thought back to all the times you'd shared with him when you had been truly happy - only a certain, aching memory sticking out like a sore thumb.

You turned your attention back to the record player and let your fingers trace the beautiful grains and grooves of the wood; the pads of your index and middle finger ending up on his record collection. You let your nosiness kick in as you flicked through them, spotting some seventies rock bands, classical compilations, and... Frank Sinatra?

"Frank Sinatra?" You queried with a curious, amused smile, glancing at Severus over your shoulder. Butterflies exploded like storm in your stomach when you found him already staring at you, though the look on his face wasn't what you wanted. He looked a little miffed. "I like Frank Sinatra." You quickly added, wanting to avoid any sort of conflict. You glanced back to where your fingers where dipping into his record collection, a furious pink blush tinting your pale cheeks. As you slipped your hand away, the end of your finger caught the play button, and suddenly the room was filled with a dark, melancholic and slow rock song. Your eyes widened in panic as you tried frantically to turn it off, however, nothing was working.

"Leave it, I... like it." Came a voice from behind you, immediately halting you in your desperate, albeit poor attempts to pause it. Severus was still sat at his desk, but he was sat back now, a little more relaxed.

"It's nice," You commented quietly after a beat of silence, braving a look at Severus. His eyes were glued to his desk; the plate of turkey and vegetables pushed messily to the side. He seemed to be battling something. You swallowed thickly and sauntered over to him, your heels clacking against the brick floor. You stopped in front of him and held out your hand. "...Dance with me?" You asked, voice still quiet. The Potions Master looked up at you for several seconds, his harsh, dark eyes flicking to your open palm. Your heart was thumping so loud in your ears you were worried you wouldn't hear his answer.

Luckily for you, he didn't give you one. He just plainly accepted your hand, standing slowly, almost reluctantly. You backed away from his desk, one step at a time, his large, calloused and cold hand still in yours. You stopped in the middle of the room, gently pulling Severus closer to you. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked up to meet his cold gaze, placing his other hand on your hip. You began to sway side to side to the slow beat of the song, his fingers flinching slightly as you moved. Severus found himself lost in your eyes as you stared up at him. He wondered why someone like you had offered to dance with someone like him; it felt wrong almost, a Hufflepuff and a Slytherin, good and bad. As the chorus got going, a bright grin broke out on your face as Severus lifted his arm up to twirl you around, the skirt of your dress blooming outwards like a flower. His chest tightened as you stumbled slightly, your hand slipping onto his chest to steady yourself.

"Sorry." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking up at Snape through your lashes bashfully. He didn't reply, he only danced with you more, and you saw his the corner of his lips quirk up in a small, almost miniscule smile. Your heart fluttered at the sight and your smile was back on your face.

The two of you continued to dance carelessly to the song playing in the background, and any worries and anxieties had been long forgotten ever since the two of you touched palms. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes as Severus twirled you around again, a loud laugh leaving your lips as he brought you back towards him, his eyes half-lidded with admiration. You lifted your hand up this time and attempted to twirl Snape around. He almost fought against it, but the sad pout on your lips ultimately broke him, and so he let you twirl him around.

"Are you alright?" Lupin's voice had softened, fishing you from your deep memory. A tear had fallen from your eye as you opened them.

A gentle laugh fell from your lips as you suddenly became aware of the tears brimming your eyes. You lifted up a hand to quickly swipe them away, your cheeks flushing awkwardly. "Yes, sorry- I... it's just a very, erm, deep memory for me."

"I can see." Lupin smiled at you, gesturing to the tear rolling down your cheek. "I'm sure it will work." He assured you, his tone still soft. You could tell he was a little concerned for your welfare, but he didn't dare press you for answers. He knew how certain memories could evoke such intense emotions. "Ready, Professor L/N?"

"Ready as ever." You sighed shakily through your mouth, pointing your wand at the chest. Lupin nodded, and with a whoosh, he opened the chest once more, the echo of the Dementor's rattling lungs devouring your body whole. Your heart pounded as you stared fear straight in the face, only the memory of you and Severus keeping you grounded.

You inhaled and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

And suddenly, a blinding, blue-white twirling light formed an umbrella-like shape at the tip of your wand, and you gasped; an impossibly wide toothy-grin spreading across your face like a wildfire. You glanced at Lupin, whose eyes were shot wide, quite obviously in complete disbelief from what he had just witnessed. His mouth hung open as he stared at you, a matching grin reaching his mouth as you forced the boggart back into the chest, falling to the ground as the charm dissipated from the tip of your wand.

You were absolutely breathless - it felt as if someone had just punched you in the chest. "Oh my God," you giggled, panting as you sat on your hands and knees, "I did it! Holy shit- I did it, Remus!"

"Bloody brilliant! Well done, Y/N. Not many witches or wizards are capable of such a thing. You look to be a very promising one, definitely." Lupin grinned down at you, leaning on the top of the chest, fingers splayed out exhaustedly. "I think that's enough for this evening, you must be exhausted, my dear."

"Precisely that, Remus," You laughed breathlessly again, unable to contain the proud grin that wasn't disappearing from your mouth anytime soon. "Thank you. So much." Remus walked over to you and held out a hand to help you up, in which you happily took it and pulled yourself up, sighing as you reached your feet.

"It's my pleasure." He smiled at you, his hands returning to his pockets again. That seemed to be a signature pose of his. "Soon enough, you'll be able find out your corporeal patronus."

"My what?-" Your eyes widened slightly at the phrase, blinking cluelessly.

"Your corporeal patronus. It's the most powerful form of a patronus, it takes the shape of an animal that represents your character, and protects you- being able to fully drive dementors away." Lupin explained, wandering over to a desk and leaning against it casually.

"Do you know yours?" You asked curiously, watching as Lupin's eyes twitched nervously, glancing away from you.

"Yes." Lupin answered simply, a weak smile slipped onto his lips, silently indicating that he didn't want to talk about it further.

"Cool." You beamed at him, the corners of his lips curling up. Lupin was rather grateful that you didn't ask him anything else to do with his patronus, he was hiding enough as it was. The man really didn't need any extra stress.

"Very." Lupin replied with a nod. Your smile widened. "I think you'll sleep well tonight, that's for sure." He joked, earning a quiet chuckle from you.

"Honestly, I can't wait to get into bed. I'm exhausted." You laughed, running a tired hand through your hair, a few fingers getting caught within the knots of it. "Thanks for tonight, Remus, I just hope I can pull it off in the real situation." Another laugh fell from your mouth, though it felt more of a worried laugh than an amused one.

"Let's hope you don't ever need to use it." Lupin said to you, the creases beside his eyes wrinkling as he smiled at you with slumping shoulders.

"Night, Remus."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

Your walk back from Lupin's classroom was rather dull, and awfully cold. Your skin was rife with goosebumps as the chilly air ravaged your body, infiltrating every part of you. All you wanted to do was to get back to your warm, cosy bed. Your body shuddered pleasantly at the thought of being wrapped up in it, the soft and plump pillows engulfing your head, encouraging you to fall into a deep, dreamy sleep.

To be honest, you weren't even sure what time it was, but you knew it was rather late as the moon was shining brilliantly in the nightsky amongst the beauty of the sparkling stars. You halted yourself for a moment to admire it, and suddenly a sense of déjà vu sunk into your bones. A year ago, you'd been in the same place, staring up at the sky to admire the stars with a bag of Mandrake roots in hand. You were on the way to drop them off to Severus for the potion to save the students. That was the first time you and him had really spoken without a burning hatred for one another. There was no malice, instead it was civil for once, and if you remember correctly - you'd even cracked some jokes.

A faint smile crossed your features and you hummed to yourself as your eyes were still darting across the millions upon millions of stars dotted against the infinite black.

Severus.

You wondered if he was still awake. He most likely was, that man never slept, though, you wished he did. You knew you should get back to Ben, just to save face, however, the urge to go and see him was drowning you. The biting cold was devouring your body like a starving tiger at this point, but you still stood idly, stuck on the thought of paying the dungeon bat a visit. Gods, you really shouldn't. You don't exactly want to risk Ben becoming suspicious. The thought of him finding out and doing something regrettable loomed over you like a dark rain cloud, and it was growing heavier by the day. Ben wasn't exactly the think-before-you-speak type, and so you worried over what he might do if he found out you and Severus were secretly seeing each other.

Should you go and see Severus? He could settle your mind right now... No, no, no. You need to go back to your quarters. Ben's probably worrying about you again.

That familiar, heavy feeling of guilt began to rot your body again as your feet were glued to the ground, unmoving. You were truly stuck. What the hell do you do?

Part 13!

what do you think Y/N should do?! 🫣

i apologise if this was a boring chapter, i feel like not a lot happened... despite this i hope you enjoyed it! there will be more snape x reader interaction next chapter i promise ;(

let me know what you thought! and also let me know what you think Y/N should do! i'm excited to see your thoughts and replies, they always make me smile! <3 🤭

i hope you guys are having or have had a great day/night, and i hope you have a great day tomorrow. ALSO make sure you are staying hydrated and healthy guys! AND i hope you are getting enough sleep!! 🩵🤲🏼🩵

i feel like i said hope around 100 times 😂

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

@881127fara

@freshmoneyalmondathlete

@sonoluvr22

@v3lv3tvampir3

@lashipperrubia

@camilla-black

@acakius

@hiddlestonspassionsackx

@tellatubbies

@mikariell95

@sunshinemink

@m0rtifiedg0th

@spookymicrowave

@sayonara30

@novas-dreamworld

@ms-snape

@captainrogers-19

@once-upon-an-imagine

@cj-ghostemoji-destielpie

@renirat

@0chemicalwaste0

@6kaja9

@guardiandear

@gloriousrebelrunaway

@ameliachastain

[mncein]

my sweater? or yours?

◖ 🌸 ° ✮ — seeking comfort after an exhausting day is a requirement. maybe hugs and kisses will ease the tiredness you're feeling. from who? of course your lovely girlfriend!

◖ 🕢 ° ✮ — today, serving you with...? pure fluff !! try your best to relax and take breaks, there is no time for drama today; pairing: newjeans ot5 x female!reader

◖ 💌 ° ✮ — mail for you: hi hi! guess who's back! i'll be explaining my semi-long (?) disappearance here. aside all the crazy things i've done in my life, first sem is done! so far i'm not pressured or stressed about any school works, i fixed my schedules, managed my time and all. i grew a lot ! hoping my brain did too, anyways take this as thanks to my loyal readers out there ! special thanks to @ilovekimminji for the kisses and requesting this hc ! ◖ 💬 ° ♪ — word count: 2,731

in what might some consider as dramatic, your tiredness has truly reached its limit. the silent but audible groans escaping your lips serve as a sign that you're getting more exhausted with every step you take. the walk to newjeans' dormitory, which the girls granted you access to, feels like a long travel at this point. each step is paired with a quiet sigh, a mumble of a protest against the weight of drained energy.

at last, you arrived at the front door of the building; when the view of the elevator opening entered reach of your sight, you felt a feeling of relief for your tired legs, you don't have to take the stairs! you made your way inside the dormitory, hoping that your girlfriend was home...

🌸 — minji

you know she was home because of her favorite slippers all messy on the rug of the front door. you knelt down, followed by a click of your tongue while you fixed the house shoes neat and well-arranged. after, you take your coat off and hang it on the rack, excitement of seeing minji growing second after second. rushing to the living room with a big smile on your face.

there she was, entirely carefree of your presence, but still undeniably beautiful while slacked lazily on the couch. the tv plays a playlist of her all-time favorite old rock love songs on youtube, and she listens to them with you twice or thrice a week, but it looks like she missed you so much that she had to listen to them alone for the 6th time this week.

you wasted no time and jumped on the couch, your mind going back to your intention of receiving hugs and kisses from your girlfriend, and went blank when you felt her wrap her strong arms around your waist. the both of you missed the warmth you shared with each other. it felt so long and cold as an endless winter night without being cuddled up on each other's arms.

"missed you so much."

words were muffled as you stuffed your face in her chest, she chuckled at your words as a reaction.

"same here. i had to play the songs all day because i can't get you off my mind."

"i knew. but at least give time to fix your slippers on the front door!"

you two shared a moment of laughter before staring into each other's eyes, closing them after feeling your lips touch. sharing the sweet moment passionately and expressively that lasted for a minute.

"i love you bro."

you pecked her lips between every word, her smile growing after receiving every kiss.

"i love you too, miss bro."

minji whispered as a distraction, for her to sneak her hands on your waist, fingers preparing for the right time to attack you with tickles.

"no, i love you more."

you teased.

"god, you're so annoying, i love love you more!"

minji replied after you, and she knew it was going to be an endless exchange of "i love you's", all set and go!

laughs escaped your mouth as minji's fingers turned into tickling machines, squirming and weak under her touch. you desperately tried to escape the torment to catch your breath.

"i swear! if getting tickled by you is a workout, i'd be really fit right now."

you blurt out, calming yourself after laughing too much, you then lay back on her chest, breathless and grinning from ear to ear. minji welcomes you again into her embrace, holding your head softly, this simple gesture sends sparks into your heart.

she rambled away, sharing how her day lacked its usual spark without you around. but excitedly, she spoke about some new songs she discovered, recommending them to you. as she was getting carried away with a new topic, she yearned to steal a few kisses from you. however, you remained silent. minji glanced down and found you peacefully sleeping on her chest, looking utterly adorable in your slumber.

she wouldn't dare wake you up, she knew you were tired, and you deserve a good rest. maybe she'll get those kisses tomorrow morning.

wait! before she closes her eyes and go to sleep with you...

"hold on, who's sweater are you wearing? my sweater? or yours?"

🌸 — hanni

of course, the familiar sounds of what she self-assuredly called "hanni music" echoed through the living room. it was visible that today was her specified lazy day. the remnants of her favorite delivered food were scattered messily on the floor, with even the plastic containers adding to the mess. straw wrappers had flown chaotically, and you unknowingly stepped on one.

now, she's sat on the sofa with her ipad in hand. it seems like she's busy doodling and playfully experimenting with the drawing app she shared with you. funny to you how it was so obvious what she was doing based on her crazy hand movements and a big lopsided grin on her face.

you break into her childlike moment by turning off the speaker that's been playing her songs. responding quickly, she wears a mix of guilt and silliness on her face. putting down her ipad next to her, hanni gazes up at your figure with crossed arms, resembling a scolded child caught in the act.

"hehe~ i'm done now, see...?"

hanni opened her arms and offered a hug, together with a gummy smile to ease the mood around the both of you. you're going to forgive her, right? she swore she'd clean up her mess, she was just too lazy to do it right away.

hanni, with a tender gesture, unfolded her arms and extended them towards you, warmly inviting you for a comforting embrace. hoping you'd give in to her, hanni's lips curved into a gummy smile, an easygoing expression showing to clear off any tension lingering in the air between the two of you. the atmosphere seemed to soften as her arms remained open wide, offering comfort in the form of an affectionate hug.

the unspoken question floats around in the air: were you willing to forgive her right there, right now? her eyes, filled with sincerity, pleaded for your understanding. she assured you that she would settle the situation, promising to tidy up the outcome of her apparent laziness. her intention was clear, seeking reconciliation through the simple act of offering an apology wrapped in a warm, embracing hug.

"sorry babe, i'll clean that up later. so why don't you get into these arms and cuddle with me?"

in that moment, a wave of conflicting emotions swept over you. despite the remaining second thoughts about fully accepting her apology. the hug felt nice, it was a gesture that goes beyond words, and you found yourself succumbing to the pure comfort she offered.

hanni, with a smile gracing her face, was content. having you back at home, embraced by her arms. though unsaid, her emotions showed that she missed you like how much you missed her too.

and the both of you had that connection between you, understanding each other without any effort. reciprocating the embrace, perhaps; in this instance, you would let her win, recognizing that sometimes the embrace of understanding speaks louder than the words left silent.

"i feel so small in this sweater."

"is that why you acted like a kid?"

"you know i look cute when i do."

you didn't really care when she wore your clothes; you both practically shared them anyway. however, with a glance at your tired expression, hanni sensed your weariness. so, she leaned back, inviting you to rest your head on her chest. the longing for her company was so strong that you ended up falling asleep there. well as she promised, when you wake up tomorrow, you'll find everything around you magically cleaned.

"maybe you should wear it more then. wait- is that my sweater? or yours?"

🌸 — daniellle

you can tell danielle's definitely home – dishes cleaned, table looking shiny, and neat. plants by the hallway appear refreshed, probably just had their daily hydration session. the living room, bathed in a cozy purple glow, the mist of the diffuser, leaving a trail of lavender goodness in the air. it's all relaxing as soon as you set foot inside. danielle's turned the dorm into a zen paradise, and you can't wait to spend your night with her.

she just knows you best, danielle had the movie you both agreed to watch. she obviously planned all this, as she was aware that you were coming home a little late and exhausted. your girlfriend always wants the best for you and is ready to do anything to help. you appreciate her for it, and like her, you'd do the same in a heartbeat. love works both ways.

you hurried to the room where she was, so eager to see your girlfriend. danielle was lying all cozy in a sweater and waiting for you, she had the remote resting in her hand, thumb hovering over the play button. noticing the familiar shadow, her eyes met yours. you were greeted with a soft smile and a flying pair of soft clothes she had prepared, hitting your face.

"think fast!"

she laughed while you rolled your eyes, picking up the clothes and changing into them inside the bathroom.

"i would if you didn't throw the clothes first."

you replied, finding a cozy haven on her chest, now she had her arms wrapped around you. inhaling the subtle fragrance that enveloped her, it felt like an immersive experience, almost ethereal. the scent, a delicate blend uniquely hers, it was her favorite, and wears it almost every day (which became your favorite on her as well), evoking a sense of comfort and security. it wasn't just a fragrance; it was an essence that described her sweet personality. all of those gave you a feeling that, at that moment, could genuinely be described as heavenly.

"how'd you do all these?"

"learned them from you."

"i see, welcome to my world."

a few minutes had passed and you were falling asleep in the position you were both in, the movie continued playing, danielle was keeping her focus on it while giving your head massages (that she knew would help you relax even more). you had your hands gripping gently on her clothes, feeling the familiar texture, you recognized it was the shared sweater of you two. you took note that it was her turn to wear it this week, danielle giggles when you rub your hands on her sides sleepily.

"i thought we shared this, i don't know if i should still consider this as my sweater? or yours?"

🌸 — haerin

in the dormitory was all silent and inviting compared to the busy city outside, and there was food in the cat's bowl. the presence of haerin was a quiet yet reassuring sign that she was indeed home. haerin, an up-to-time cat feeder, maintained a schedule, making sure that the fluffy friend was never left waiting for its meal. not even a minute too soon or too late.

as you stepped inside, you swiftly hung your coat before joining rangheo. soft purrs filled the space as you engaged in a playful moment with him, and he enough reminded you of haerin when she's away.

having slipped into a set of fresh, clean clothes, you make your way to the living room where haerin awaits. greeting her with a warm hug, your head finding a comfortable resting place on her chest. in an instant, she releases her hold on the phone, reciprocating the hug with a lovely smile on her face.

"didn't know you like laufey."

"i may or may not have been going through your playlists."

the soft sounds of laufey's music fade into the background as the two of you share this moment. that when the soft, tired breaths escape you. without a word, she senses your exhaustion and knows well how to give you an embrace full of relaxation around you, offering serenity in the warmth of her arms.

"how was your day?"

"boring without you."

"i'm here now though."

"day went better."

you softened at her words, you're glad you can spend the night with her (and rangheo); then you felt soft paws climb on your back and up to your head, resting snugly on your nape. haerin can't help but let out a giggle at the cuteness overloading in front of her. she had one of her hands on your head giving small scratches, and one rubbing under rangheo's chin.

suddenly, a set of gentle paws made their way up your back, reaching up to perch on your head, settling cozily on your nape. haerin couldn't contain her delight, and a let out at the sheer cuteness overloading before her. she had one of her hands on your head, sending small, sweet scratches. the other one rubbing gently under rangheo's chin. the scene was surely going to be in her gallery of memories, the picture of shared joy and the adorable bond between you, haerin, and the furry friend atop your head.

how easily haerin made you sleepy, just from the gentle touches she gave, it was better than you daydreamed about.

"i love that on you."

you point to her top,

"which one? my sweater?"

claiming it's hers and she's wearing your clothes again.

"huh, really... my sweater? or yours?"

🌸 — hyein

the hallways looked like the aftermath of a fashion hurricane! there were paper bags from famous clothing stores, a pastel pink beanie doing its best to blend in with the chaos, a random brown fur coat hanging off a doorknob, and the missing pair of purple socks in the middle of the floor. no doubt about it – hyein had turned the place into her very own fashion runway.

sure, you'll do her a favor and clean her mess but has to be repaid by hugs and kisses. hyein may forget about her own mess, but she does things for you willingly and without asking. once you're done tidying around, you change into your cozy house clothes and have a fun time cuddling with your girlfriend.

as you entered, relief washed over you at the sight of the living room, neat and tidy, it's pleasing to the eyes. however, a sudden click of a camera shutter broke your moment of silence, drawing your attention to the source. there she was, sitting gracefully on the couch, looking all gorgeous, capturing multiple pictures in various poses.

you couldn't help but assume that this unplanned photoshoot was destined for her phone gallery. curiosity sparked, and you wondered you wonder if she did the same with the tons of clothes all folded neatly at the edge of the sofa.

"oh, you're home! sorry for the mess in the hallway, i'll clean-"

"don't bother, i already cleaned them for you."

setting aside her phone, she created a space for you to lie down beside her. without hesitation, you accepted the invitation, sighing in contentment as you lay your head on her chest.

"tired?"

"very much."

arms wrapped around you in an instant, showering soft kisses across your face, exactly what you were yearning for earlier. maybe cleaning up her mess wasn't such a chore after all if the reward was this. aside from that thought, you found yourself blessed with daily affection from her, and you cherished every single gesture.

"any more plans for today?"

asked her, you shook your head no, you were too tired to think or do something.

"great! i just have one more request, and i'm dying to tell you."

you were getting sleepy at that very moment, well oh well, maybe you can make an exception, you hummed for her to continue.

"since you're here, let's take photos together! i've been wanting to try this sweater for soooo long."

she raised the familiar fabric, and it was yours.

"that's mine."

"nuh uh, found it in my closet."

"whatever, so is it still my sweater? or yours?"

◖ 💌 ° ☏ — you've reached the end! hi's and hello's once again, i hope you had a fun time reading! i enjoyed working on this, i can finally voice out my thoughts about the girls 😭 totally went crazy on danielle's, i love newjeans so muchjksjdjjdy

[matchadobo]

Could you please do the fantasy section with the mermaid and pirate prompt? I think it's 3. I'm a sucker for mermaids!

KIDD; mermaid x pirate

🌷matchadobo's 500 followers event🌷

wc: 2655

dialogue: "for someone who claims to hate me, you sure can't stay out of my waters. afraid you'll miss me?"

warning/s: no nsfw, playful-snarky dynamic, mermaid!reader x pirate!kidd, mild violence (mentions of killing but very mild), afab reader

the legend that spread like an epidemic back in scotland on an ear-splitting amount usually goes as a warning to those brave enough to survey the seas. a reminder to beware of the cursed waters from the land mystical creatures thrive. a land where myths can be seen.

one of which goes in a form of stories. it's the stories kidd grew tired of. an enchantress who owns a voice that hunts her prey through the tunes that threads its way to one's senses akin to a crawling seaweed across the walls of a desolate cave as it flutter by the currents of the deep sea.

so when kidd became a pirate and led his pack of misfits across uncharted seas, he had met one of these creatures he deemed foul and cursed. it was inevitable, he'd eventually have an encounter with one of them. that's when he made the mistake of meeting you of all mermaids. much more when his greedy, bastardly group was looting your territory lavished in treasure deep in the water.

if marines hadn't came and started thrashing his ship, you would've honestly killed him. it would be easy for you. after all, the bastard can't fucking swim. and you, you were skilled in the waters and the land. you were just kind of handicapped since you were fighting from the water.

his crew fetched a few bags of golds and pearls as per his orders. you took care of them and they have not returned the surface.

kidd and you parted with threats and boring glares. he vowed to have never come back. but not a day passed where you didn't think about him. nor had he let the night end without struggling on your effect on him as he embarrassingly daydream about you during the day.

maybe it was his daring demeanor, arrogant as he rashly challenged your fortress which intimidated most humans but not him. it irritated you, how dare he? but at the same time, it amused you. the nerve, the bravery, and the eager desire to get what he wants with fear never deterring him. most of all he even faced you, went toe to toe against your territory where you have most of the advantage.

or how those cursed devil fruits impressed you for the first time. because he somehow manipulated it to overwhelm you. a human had made you panic. he was especially etched in your brain and it made you mad. whether mad means angry or crazy, he drove you in that point of ambiguity either way because he had corrupted you.

he'd be no saint either. kidd is the type to take everything as a challenge. he strives to always win. so when he struggled with you, let alone put him in a situation near death; you tickled something in him. especially when you demonstrated your might as you reign over your territory. he couldn't help but obsess over the fact that your pride made his heart beat a little faster. was it adrenaline? his sheer desire to win in the face of the strong? or something else that involved the fuzzy shit down his stomach?

with the way you control the waves, pushing him to his limits as you stand resolute before him. you held the same pride, the same confidence in your ability that you would win and overwhelm him. he saw it in your iridescent eyes that you had the sheer intent to prevail. you managed to fuck him over with your snarks and insults with the same amount of mockery he gave you. but yours hit harder, your gaze and your words, especially the melody of your voice. your might has taken over him. maybe that's why he struggled and even had to retreat.

so it fucked you up, shook you to very fiber of your scales, to see his ship come back to your territory. he stood tall by the bow of his ship, looking for your eyes. and once he met them, something in the two of you stung. like a lightning hitting through the both of you.

so you let the waves take you to a mountain of rocks near his ship where a certain amount of distance put you superior to him.

"for someone who claims to hate me, you sure can't stay out of my waters. afraid you'll miss me?"

he broke into a thunderous laughter. it was as if the skies dimmed and lighting started appearing on the grey clouds. there would be a storm. the bastard brought it here it seems.

"oh mairi (scottish name associated with the sea, it's just his nickname for you 💙)." he said with a grin, shaking his head. he shifted in his feet, jumping from the ship railings towards the rocks where you reside as he propelled himself using his devil fruit.

you somewhat felt nervous when he began sauntering towards you, dandy as he approached you. as his boots grazed by the bumpy rocks and he closed the distance between the two of you, he squatted down to your level.

"that was quite a fight, aye? were you waitin' on me since then?" he raised a brow, canines tugging on his crimson lips. his golden arrogant eyes seems to have caught your tongue as you can't find words to snark back at him.

"you've got the nerve to stand this close to me in my territory." you stood your guard, remaining unfazed at his arrogance. but your heart was about to escape your chest. "i'd like you to have a look around, pirate. my people are on guard. one word from me and the lot of you bastards will sink. heard the sea doesn't treat you well. how does that sound?" you smiled back, tilting your head as you played right into his game. that right now, made his eye twitch.

so he stood back up and kept his distance because he only went closer so he could talk to you properly.

"didn't come here with no damn threat, 'kay? lower your fuckin' weapons because we got no business with bein' at war with you. matter of fact, it's the total damn opposite." his voice was a little louder, as if he was announcing it to your people too.

"the opposite? what, you wanna be friends, pirate?" you chuckled dryly, your people followed as well. amused at his display of cordiality.

"if that's how your pretty little fins would put it, aye. i want an alliance." he got down on your level, grinning as if he ordered you to agree.

"how forward. and fucking stupid." you sucked in your teeth. "asking to team up with me after attempting to pillage my territory is on a different level of audacity. you're delusional if you think i'd get on with your plans."

"you haven't even asked what's in it for you, mairi. come on now, ain't alliances a two way street?" he probed, looking deeper into your eyes as if he already knew you'd agree if he proceeds with his response.

you crossed your arms as a reply to let him proceed, sighing as you raised a brow.

"heard the florian triangle took some of your people captive." you felt paralyzed with his words, how did he know that? even info like that doesn't reach people like him. "why's that, hm? could it be you're not strong enough?"

"that's none of your business." you look away, growing uneasy. "why are you so keen on allying anyway?"

"i'm headed there and to get past i need one of your kind to navigate because the log pose fucks up there." he started, keenly observing how you would react. "in return, we get your people back, aye? what do you say?"

you didn't want to ever go back to the florian triangle, it was a traumatic experience. but if it meant going back to get your people which could be in expense for you, you'd do it in a heartbeat.

"if i'll do it, you only got me. i don't want to bring anyone else and lose more of my people."

"fine by me. think you're plenty strong enough to handle it."

you two set sail as you bid your land farewell, they're more than competent to fend for themselves all the while keeping your territory sound. you got settled on the bow of his ship, your tail hanging off the ledge as you watched your people bid you farewell. the island soon got smaller and smaller until you only see the mist of the horizion.

"mairi-san? we've got plenty of rum if you want some." a blond man as big as that redhead but just a bit smaller approached you, holding a barrel mug with a foamy top from the overflowing liquid as an offering to you. "we're on a journey, might as well share a drink." he was cordial and you felt nice about him, different from that arrogant bastard.

"save it. i don't drink human food. if anything, it unsettles me."

"oh don't worry, mairi. we're not tryna poison you." kidd snarked, hearing it a bit as a shout because he was sat far away at the couches in the middle of the deck while you were on the other end of the ship. "loosen up a little, aye?"

you couldn't see him but you know exactly where he is, you had to one up him and splashed a shit load of water concentrated on him. his crew laughed at the display of playfulness, lightening the air around you as you showed no hesitation and fear in messing with him.

you peeked behind you subtly, looking over your shoulder to see kidd drenched. he also became a bit weak because of its effect on his powers but his glare was all the more powerful. he ran his mouth, grumbling and rambling at you but it made you giggle. and that got him slurring nonsense when he saw you smile. he stomped to his quarters, trying to resolve whatever curse you inflicted on him once more.

but as soon as he got out of his quarters, you were way ahead of him and spook the shit outta him when you greeted him by the waters by the railings beside his door.

"why'd you hide?" you tilted your head, grinning with a discerning brow raised.

"jesus- fuck! don't just go sproutin' everywhere, god." he grumbled, shutting his door loudly.

"did i scare you?"

"as if, fuckin' mairi."

"name."

"what?"

"call me name. your dumb nickname isn't needed anymore." you chuckled a little, growing somewhat comfortable at the interaction.

there was a long while of silence, as if kidd was examining you from below as he leaned by the ship railings and got closer at you. you looked up at him and tilted your head, puzzled why he's looking too long.

"like my face that much? what's got you staring?"

you didn't miss how his ears turned red before he turned his back away, grumbling curses at you. still keeping his cool composure but his ears weren't.

"don't mistake me for shit like that. if anythin', you're the one who can't take your eyes off me."

"right. you might as well buy me a drink, as you humans say, with the way your acting around me, kidd."

there was a long while of staring, memorizing how you two look up close. how your skin glistened from the water sliding on your iridescent skin, with droplets on your lashes and hair sticking beautifully on your skin. or how his fluffy crimson locks brought out his striking, golden eyes from the contrast of his snowy skin, his red lips pressing into a thin line as he examined you up close got you thinking how it felt.

either of your response were valid. in the span of the short time you two were together, the tension is quite suffocating. as if begging to be addressed that you both are fascinated with each other.

aside from the foundation of being at each other's throats, it was clear that physical attraction played a part in the adrenaline rush of your clash. now was the time that it's being cemented when the proximity is too stifling.

"only drink i've got is rum, can you handle that?"

"hmm, challenging me right off the bat?"

"aye. human stuff bores you, ain't it? bet i could change that. we've got the finest fuckin' rum in 'ere."

you oughta do a whole lot of saving but it was a long way there, almost a day's worth of travel. might as well make the most out of your time in the victoria.

nightfall peaked and you two are still busy with rum and stories on each of your walks of life.

"so this is your first time meeting a mermaid?"

"aye. reacted poorly, didn't i?"

"exceptional is more like it. most just run away, afraid to get cursed. but you, you just rush in head first." you chuckled. "after all, the sea has already cast a curse on you."

a few more shots and you were slowly losing all sense, getting more forward, clingy, and daring with him. he's got a good hold of himself to not let you go to far, but your touch almost had a drunking affect itself inflicting on him.

"that's enough." he snatched the bottle away from you, noticing how dizzy you're becoming. you were initially sat on the railings with your tail hanging as it reach the floor of the deck. "jesus, as someone who acts like she got a stick up 'er ass, you don't know your limits, huh?"

"pft, what are you on abou-" you almost fell behind to the sea, kidd caught you on reflex, as if the sea wasn't your home and you'd be perfectly fine falling in it. "just let me fall, i'll sleep fine floating." you tapped on his cheek with shut eyes and a drunken smile.

"and you drift off somehwere so damn far, huh? can't have that." he manhandled you, effortlessly carrying you bridal style as he headed to his quarters.

that's when he truly noticed how you look. how you felt cold as you snuggle closer to his chest with the mountain of body heat source that is him. how carrying you made him a little bit weak because you're born from the sea itself but it made him feel a whole lot of things as he had you in his arms. or how your skin had that certain glow that mirrored the iridiscence of your eyes. you truly were a wonder.

"never have i pegged myself to be carryin' a damn mermaid in my tub, tuckin' her pretty little fins in 'ere. ain't that romantic?" he talked to himself, chuckling as he glanced at you.

as kidd reached over to the faucet of his tub to give you a little pool of water, you got jolted awake by his frame towering over you and the first thing you did was grab him by his shirt and pull him close. so very close you could hear the rapid beat of his heart.

"hey, tell me." you looked into his eyes, your huge ones almost hypnotizing him. "why've you got your guard down around me?"

"why? you plan on doin' somethin' bad?" a smirk coated his voice, his observant, yellow eyes peering down at your frame.

"hmm, no. i can feel it very well if you're tensed, angry, or even flustered. you were tensed and angry when you first tried to rob us, but now... you're even getting comfy with me." you started. "even though you're well aware i can fucking kill you."

"don't be absurd." he leaned down closer, closing the distance between the two of you your lips could almost touch. "i'll be way ahead of you once you do. that is, if you can kill me."

hellooooo thank you so much for the first request for my event! 🌷i hope you'll like this! seeing that you're fond of the mermaid au, i hope i did this justice 🫶🧜‍♀️

writing this was soooo cool 😍if i didn't have that god-forbid anatomy exam 😩 pls excuse my snail ass pacing bc reqs are comin in hot! + college 🪦

if you guys are interested in requesting a fic for my 500 followers event, my askbox is open! click here for the main event post for more info :DD i have open slots for forced proximity, hurt to comfort, fantasy, he puts you in your place (smut), and modern aus!

[a-leg-without-fear]

I'm Not Good Enough🌧️

this movie was fucking ADORABLE i love it so much

Ship: Charlie Denton x gn!Reader

Rating: 13+

Wordcount: 994

Warnings: angst, alcohol, self-doubt, anxiety

Series: Leg's Tuna Tober

Chilled beer flowed past your lips as you drank from the green bottle. The fizz tickled at the back of your nose, bitter and biting, before gliding down your throat. Condensation clung to the glass and wetted your palms.

The digital clock on the end table to your left read "10:23pm," almost half an hour since Max had gone to bed. He would undoubtedly still be awake. That little trouble maker was always working on Atom, reading a booklet on robot boxing, or sketching away at his next big project. His mind never seemed to stop swirling inside his 10-year-old head.

You supposed he got that whirlwind of a brain from his father. Charlie was always two steps away from a nervous breakdown. Anxiety riddled his tired mind on an hourly basis. He'd constantly look to you for reassurance, whether it was about his parenting, his career, or simply how he treated you as a partner.

He sat to your right on the brown leather couch. Twin bottle of beer to your own clutched in his hand, body practically melted into the sofa, head resting back on the cushions with his eyes firmly shut. Wrinkles cracked his tanned skin in the corners of his eyes and the space between his furrowed brows.

"Doing okay?" you asked as quietly as you could, scared to break the uneasy silence that had settled ever since Max was sent to bed. The air in the cluttered living room was heavy with an unidentifiable unease.

Charlie shrugged as his hazel eyes fell open, "Usual bullshit. Don't worry 'bout me."

You sighed as you set your beer on the end table. An array of rings were stained into the light wood from countless nights spent drinking on the couch. Leather creaked under the weight of you shifting to face Charlie.

"I'm always worried about you, hon. What's going on?" you insisted with a gentle prod against his shoulder. He grunted at the poke, lazily swatting your hand away.

"Don't wanna bother you. Forget it," he muttered. Further worry lines creased along his face as he took a long drag from his beer bottle. His Adam's apple bobbed with each thick swallow.

A sigh blew from your pursed lips in a thin stream. Dating someone as anxiety-ridden as Charlie had its challenges. You tried your best to navigate through the raging tempest inside his mind, course-correcting his lost ship along the choppy waves, keeping him from sinking to the ocean floor.

Some days were easier than others. That metric ton of stress that weighed on his mind seemed to lighten, his smile wider, more energy spilling from his bright, hazel eyes. He'd be more willing to practice with Atom on the robot's boxing combinations or to guide Max through verbal commands.

Today was not one of those days.

"How about you tell me the first thought that pops in your head and we leave it at that?" you offered with a kind smile. Seeing your partner like this drove a grief-lined spear through your heart every time. Forced to watch as this extraordinary man folded in on himself, reduced to barely half of his size, as he wallowed in his racing heart and clouded brain.

Charlie considered your proposition for a few moments. He tilted his head back and forth, stretching the tense muscles lining his broad neck.

"Alright," he finally said. You sat up straighter amongst the couch cushions. Focus fully fixed on the man beside you, chin resting in your palm and eyes passing between each of his. He sighed, clearly uncomfortable with your undivided attention, then mumbled, "I feel like I'm not good enough. For Max... And for you."

You kept your expression neutral as his words slammed into your stomach like a sack of bricks. Swallowing the lump that'd gathered in your throat, you said, "What makes you think that?"

"I'm always like this. Always caught up in my own head, not giving both of you the attention that you need. That you deserve," Charlie nearly rambled, voice barely above a whisper. The words tumbled from him like stones dipped in sorrow.

"Both Max and I know that you have your quirks," you began in a joking manner, attempting to lighten the dreary mood, "No one's perfect, Charlie. No one expects you to be at 110% every single day. You're not one of our robots, you're a human. And a great father, at that. I see the way Max looks at you. That kid loves you so damn much. He's a smart kid, he understands what you're going through. Guess what? Doesn't make him love you any less."

The brief speech seemed to settle on Charlie's shoulders like thick snow. His breath shuddered, lower lip quivering, as he screwed his eyes shut, "Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do, hon. We both love you," you said softly while running a hand through his buzzed hair. The short strands tickled at the skin between your fingers.

He threw you off kilter as large arms enveloped you in a tight embrace. His pointed nose buried in your hair, beer long forgotten on the floor, arms squeezing you so tight you couldn't even dream of escaping. Not that you wanted to.

You were quick to return the hug, hands locking behind Charlie's back. Gentle hums leaked from your closed lips as you rested your chin on his shoulder. A little off-key, not quite matching the song you and Charlie had claimed as your own, but it comforted him nonetheless. He settled in your arms like a deflated balloon.

Anxiety is not an easy thing to deal with. It wracks one's mind with endless worry and near-paranoia at times. Makes one's heart race, their skin itching like it's on fire, stomach tying itself in knots. One day you'd get Charlie to see a therapist. Until then, you'd continue plotting his course through the hurricane and into your open arms.

screaming crying throwing up etc.

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[dontexpectmuch]

(if ur still taking requests) smth abt jude surprising a very stressed out student for their bday! i'm projecting horribly here 😍😍

author: happy (belated (?)) birthday!!!

—

you feel your phones vibration against your desk, gently tickling your skin. it pulls you out of a trance you didn’t even know you were in, your eyes now focused on the device.

a tired smile stretches on your lips, the contact name making you chuckle.

[from; The bestest best boyfriend]: open the door !

sighing, you get up from your chair and move to open the door of your small apartment, the sound of your steps as the only sound inside.

you open the door, immediately being met by a huge bouquet of blood red roses and red balloons, judes happy face the center of your sight. stepping to the side to let him enter, you take the flowers from his hands and move them to your face, the gentle scent of roses meeting your nose.

“hey, baby.” jude leans down to press a kiss on your lips, pelvis moving closer to press against yours.

you greet him back, though you see his eyebrows draw together, forehead creasing.

“you okay, love?” jude pushes your body towards your living room slash working space, placing the sweets tied to the ballon onto the table, taking the flowers from your head to put them on your desk.

you sigh for the nth time today, leaning against his body, slightly relaxing as you feel his warm hands caress your back.

jude speaks up again, voice laced with confusion, “babe?”

“‘m so tired, i don’t even know what to do.” you explain your behavior, though it doesn’t even come near to what you actually feel.

on top of being stressed and tired, you start to feel even worse because you can’t be happy to see your boyfriend. he doesn’t deserve to be greeted by your gloomy self like that, but you also know that he would never be mad at you for your feelings, immediately trying to help wherever he can.

“why aren’t you ready?” he asks, siting down on your couch and pulling you along by your wrist, positioning you on his lap.

“for what?”

you feel his hand move up and down your thigh as you lean against his body, head resting on the crook of his neck as you take in his manly scent, his aftershave tingling your brain in a way that you wouldn’t dare to put into words.

jude gasps, pushing your head up to hold it between his hands, thumbs drawing circles against your cheeks.

“your birthday dinner? you wanted to eat at that restaurant when we visited liverpool?” his words making bells ring in your head.

you loudly gasp as you stand up, “jude, babe, i,” your heart sinks as your eyes skim over his face, “i forgot?”

he tucks you down again, your legs caging his as you come face to face. “did you forget your own birthday?”

though jude smiles at you, thinking that this situation is quite funny, a moment the two of you would remember in your graying days, you can’t help but feel sad, closing your eyes as you put your forehead against his shoulder.

“exams are stupid.” you mumble, finally understanding why so many people have been calling you throughout the day.

you two sit on your couch for a while, small talk being exchanged between you. that is, until jude decides to get up to get your present that he left by the door, your heart’s rate picking up as you watch him sit next to you, a big bag placed on your lap.

“you didn’t have to-“

he puts his finger against your lips, successfully stopping you. “just, i hope you like it.”

you smile at him, thankful to have him in your life before you look down to pull out a rectangle box from the bag. your eyes widen as you are greeted by a white box, the familiar apple logo making tears sting your eyes.

your voice is soft, looking at your boyfriend who shyly looks at you through his lashes, “jude, i, oh my god, thank you so much.”

you move towards him to hug him tight, gratitude expressed through soft kisses spread over his neck.

“you said that your laptop was slow, and how many breakdowns you had because of it, so i thought, well, yeah.” he explains, his hand resting on your cheek once again, warmth radiating from his eyes.

your heart beats against your rips, heat creeping up your neck.

you knew that is an incredible person, someone who cares about his loved ones, giving as much as he can without expecting anything in return. you knew that he pays attention to everything you say, almost hanging on every word spilling from your lips, never making you say anything twice, but right now, fuck.

right now you feel loved in a way you never knew that existed, you feel so warm, so safe and comfortable that you wish to bathe yourself in this feeling for eternity, never once thinking of leaving this feeling. all the negative energy, all the thoughts of failure and the pain of final season wash away as you continue to look at your boyfriend, him returning your gaze of adoration twice as much.

“i love you.” you whisper, afraid of losing the moment.

jude leans forward to kiss your forehead, engulfing you with his scent.

“i love you even more.”

LETS FUCKING GOOOOIOOOOOOOO

(exams make me question my existence.)