#maybe that was her family name before she left

[changetyre]

Make a wish

SUMMARY: It's Ivy's 2nd Birthday and her birthday wish is a little bigger than you'd expected. Part of Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: None?

A/N: Requested over on wattpad ;)

"Oh no Max the party hats, I forgot to get party hats." Your heart sunk to your stomach. 

"No, I bought some." Max calmed you down. 

Today was Ivy's 2nd birthday and she had been so insistent about celebrating her birthday at a race with her Papa and Uncles despite you telling her she could have a big birthday party at home with her friends. Ivy almost cried when you suggested something else wanting nothing more but to be at the "waces!" for her birthday. 

Despite this, you still wanted her birthday to have somewhat of a little celebration so you'd spent days making and decorating cupcakes to take to the paddock and buying some decorations for Ivy. 

You'd wanted everything to be a surprise so you'd mostly work at night so that the girls didn't see you because you also knew that if Lea saw anything she would definitely say something since she was as good at keeping secrets as her uncle Lando.  

But Max could tell how stressed and tired you'd grown with trying to get everything perfect for her and he was glad it was finally the day so you could relax a little. You'd woken up earlier to get the stuff in the car so that Brad could drive it to the track before you arrived with Max, Ivy, and Lea. 

"Okay, I'll go now." Brad got in the car to drive off. 

"Wait no did I bring down the streamers?" You asked. 

"Yes," Max answered waving Brad away. 

"Wait what about the-" 

"Schatje, everything's there." Max cupped your face to get you to look at him. 

"But what if-" 

"If it's not she won't even notice darling, it'll be perfect because we'll be there." Max kissed you not letting you argue further. He could feel you relax in his arms. 

"I'm sorry, I just want everything to be perfect." You hugged your husband tightly. 

"You'll never reach perfection baby, trust me I've tried" Max kissed your head. "But you're close enough and Ivy's gonna love whatever we do for her." 

 __________

"PAPA WOOK!" Ivy yelled excitedly as she ran out of her room. 

Max turned to see his daughter in a big puffy Belle dress which she had begged him to buy for her birthday. 

"Oh my god is that Belle?" Max gasped dramatically. 

You stood by the door watching the interaction with loving eyes. 

"No Papa is me Iby!" Ivy ran up to her dad who lifted her up and twirled her around. 

"How's my gorgeous birthday girl?" Max kissed her cheeks. 

"Papa I tuwn two." Ivy held up her tiny hand trying to hold up 2 fingers but her third finger kept slipping out of the grasp of her little thumb and pinky finger. 

"Yes, you do and you need to stop growing." Max hugged her closer sighing at the idea of his girls growing up. 

A few seconds later Lea peaked her head around the corner of her room. "Mamma?" She called your name. 

"You ready baby?" You asked your daughter whom you'd also bought a dress for since you wanted to make sure she didn't feel left out. 

She nodded shyly, she'd started growing shy around you and her dad lately whenever she showed you something which you found adorable. 

She walked out wearing her Belle dress too except hers was the blue town dress and you'd helped her put a blue bow on her hair. 

"What a gorgeous princess!" Max also sighed dramatically while holding Ivy who clapped in his arms happily. 

You had breakfast quickly, the girls and you having pancakes as a treat for Ivy's birthday while Max had to eat something else to keep his weight down for getting in the car later. 

You strapped everyone into the car and off you went to the race track. 

________

As soon as you arrived there were cameras everywhere but by now the girls were used to it especially Lea who liked to pose for the cameras despite Max and you telling her to keep her head low. 

"Mama Wando?" Lea pointed down to the McLaren hospitality as you approached the Redbull hospitality. 

"Maybe we'll see him later Ivy he's not here yet." You lied and heard her sigh sadly as she rested her head on your shoulder.

You'd arrived at the track pretty early since Max didn't have to be on the track until around 4 today but as a surprise for Ivy's birthday, You and Max had asked the boys if they could arrive early to surprise Ivy for her birthday knowing she would just want to spend the day with her favorite people. 

You walked into the Redbull hospitality and Brad, Vicky, and other staff members were there ready just like planned. 

"Ivy look!" Max called out to his daughter who lifted her head from your shoulder to look towards her dead. 

"SURPRISE!" They called out as party poppers went off and confetti flew everywhere Ivy's eyes and mouth were wide open as she looked around the decorated room. 

She squealed in your arms squirming for you to put her down and as soon as you did she went running to where there were presents and a huge cake with a small fondant F1 car where Ivy was the driver wearing a tiara. 

"PAPA LOOK!" Ivy called out to her dad pointing at the top of the cake. 

"Wow, Ivy." Max gasped surprised as if he hadn't specifically asked for her cake. 

You looked around to look for Lea just to find her munching away at the snacks that were laid out across the snack table despite eating breakfast not long ago. Just as you turned again you noticed Lando, Dani, Carlos, and Charles at the door, Ivy too distracted looking at her cake with her dad to notice. 

"Come in." You waved the drivers over. Max had previously discussed all of this with Christian and he'd gladly accepted having the drivers over at the hospitality for a few hours for the celebration. 

"MY BABY!" Lando yelled as soon as he was inside. 

Ivy's head snapped immediately in the direction of her favorite person. "WANDOOOO!" She yelped as she ran as fast as her little feet could carry her towards her godfather. 

Lea hearing the commotion turned around and also ran towards her godfather, Daniel scooping her up in her arms happily. 

It didn't take long for the rest of the drivers to pile in and Ivy excitedly greeted everyone although always kept coming back to Lando's arms. 

Although you'd insisted they didn't have to bring anything you weren't surprised to see the gift table had doubled in numbers at all the gifts the drivers had bought only hoping they hadn't spent ridiculous amounts of money on a 2-year-old. 

"Happy Birthday dear Ivy! Happy Birthday to you!" Everyone finished singing as Max held Lea in his arms, you holding Lea in yours as you stood behind the birthday cake. Antoine, Louis, and Joris moved across taking pictures and videos of your family per their own request as you'd told them they didn't need to take any pictures and you'd be happy with simply their presence but they insisted. 

"Make a wish princess." Max lowered Ivy so she could blow at her candles. 

"I wish for a widdle broder!" Ivy yelled out unashamedly blowing out her candles afterwards. 

You and Max looked at each other in shock as everyone around you burst out laughing. "Uh, you're meant to say your wish in your head baby," Max told his daughter not really sure how to proceed. 

"hmm." She shrugged unbothered as she squirmed for Max to put her down. "Wando Cake!" She called out to her godfather who gladly came over to help Ivy start cutting the cake (horribly). 

After everyone got a piece and Lea sat sharing her piece with Lando on his lap you all sat and relaxed for a while, Max by your side as Lea played around with Joris and Charles whom she still had an obsession with. 

Max turned to you blinking hard three times, his little I love you gesture. "So what do you think about Ivy's wish huh?" Max asked you. 

You laughed at the thought. Max laughing with you. "If it's with you I want it all." You told him lovingly. 

"In another year?" Max dragged your chair closer to him so there was barely a gap between the both of you. 

"Sounds good to me." You smiled before Max kissed you lovingly. 

[rainybubbles]

I need a whole story with Ghost and arranged marriage.

(and hybrids, I love the AU of the fandom about hybrids 141)

Something slow burn, angst where the reader is confident, but with social anxiety, maybe a f!reader?

She's a sacrifice, about to be married to another duke. But here comes a duchy long forgotten, tucked away in the shadow of the mountains, ruled by a mysterious Duke no one had seen in years.

A Ghost.

His name was Simon Riley, a widower, burdened with loss and cloaked in rumors. They said his heart was as dead as his wife, that a curse had taken not only her but every bit of warmth that could ever live in him. And so, when the black carriage came for you, no one in your village dared to offer you comfort.

You were the sacrifice—the black sheep sent to marry the Duke, an arranged match born out of fear, not love. Your family had seen you as expendable, a lamb to slaughter to secure their own futures.

You were confident in your spirit but burdened with the knowledge that your body didn’t fit the delicate mold others expected. (no one had courted you)

You never thought yourself beautiful, never thought you could inspire anything but pity or rejection. But it didn’t matter, did it? You weren’t meant for love. You were meant to survive.

When you arrived at the Duke’s castle, the silence that greeted you felt heavy, as if the very stones were holding their breath.

Simon Riley stood before you, a towering figure wrapped in shadows, with eyes that seemed carved from stone—cold, distant, and full of secrets.

He did not look at you the way men often did; there was no curiosity, no warmth, no appraisal. Instead, he seemed to be waiting, as if bracing for some inevitable end.

He didn't marry you for love, but because of his curse. Simon was fated to die within a year, and he needed someone to care for his kingdom and use their connections to maintain peace with other realms.

His people were not human, at least not fully. The hybrids, part-beast, part-man, served him with loyalty forged from some unspoken bond. There was Soap, whose wolf-like nature caused him to prowl the castle grounds in restless energy. Gaz, whose wings glinted like silver in the moonlight, was ever watchful, guarding the castle’s gates. And Price, the fiercest of them all, his dragon wings scorched from endless battles, often returned to you for healing.

You became their caretaker, stitching their wounds, reading old texts on werewolves to understand Soap’s habits, and joking with Gaz’s children when they visited.

Slowly, you found your place in this strange, otherworldly family.

And yet, Simon remained distant, an enigma wrapped in silence and sorrow.

He never sought your company, never looked for you, never asked for more than the duty of your presence.

He was a Duke, cursed and broken, and you were his sacrifice, meant to ensure his survival, not his happiness.

Days turned into months, and the weight of your loneliness pressed into your chest like a slow, relentless ache. You gave and gave—your time, your care, your heart—until you had little left for yourself. And one night, it became too much.

The walls of your room, once a sanctuary, closed in on you, and you cried. The sobs came softly at first, but then they grew louder, filling the quiet darkness with your grief, your exhaustion, your sense of never being enough.

Simon heard you.

He came to you in the dead of night, silent as a shadow, and found you curled up in the corner, tears staining your cheeks. He knelt beside you, his hand trembling as he reached for you, as if he wasn’t sure how to touch something so fragile. When his fingers brushed your skin, it was like a shiver of warmth had broken through the icy armor he wore.

“It means nothing,” he whispered, his voice rough and deep. He was speaking to himself as much as to you. “Comforting you means nothing.”

But his hands told a different story. He cradled you gently, pulling you into his chest, and for the first time, you felt his heart beating against yours. He held you, whispering words you couldn’t fully understand, telling himself that this was just duty, that you were just another sacrifice for his throne. But you both knew the truth.

He had fallen.

Bit by bit, Simon let you in, let you see the man behind the Duke, the man who had lost so much. He had never hoped for love—not after losing his wife, not after the curse had taken everything from him. But there you were, taking care of his people, offering comfort without expecting anything in return. And in the quiet moments, when you would tend to Price’s wings or read to Soap, Simon would watch you, a strange ache building in his chest.

He had fallen, and it was too late.

But Simon’s curse was not the only one. Another hybrid, König, appeared at the castle one day, his presence unsettling. He was larger, more menacing than the others, and his eyes lingered on you in a way that made your skin crawl. There was something in his gaze, something dark and possessive, that told you he was not just another visitor.

And then, you were gone.

On the day Simon was to meet his death—a death foretold by the curse—you were not there. He searched for you, frantic, the coldness of his impending doom creeping up his spine. But you were nowhere to be found.

König had taken you, hoping to break the curse for himself, hoping to claim you as his own. But what König didn’t know, what no one knew, was that you had the power to break the curse—not just for Simon, but for another. You were the key, the sacrifice whose heart could unlock the chains binding these cursed men.

But Simon… Simon had already decided.

He would not let you sacrifice yourself again. He had watched you give and give until there was nothing left for yourself. He had heard your cries in the dead of night, felt the weight of your despair. And now, he was ready to curse himself—for you. He was ready to bind his heart to yours, to live an eternity of torment, meeting you again and again across lifetimes if that’s what it took. He would endure the curse, relive the pain, as long as it meant you would be free.

And as Simon drew his last breath, his heart shattered—not from the curse, but from love. His love for you, the woman who had given so much, the woman he had fallen for too late.

And in the distance, far from the castle, you felt it. The weight of his sacrifice. The bittersweet ache of love lost, of a heart cursed not by magic but by fate.

You wept, not for yourself, but for him—for the man who had loved you in silence, in shadows, and in sacrifice. And as the winds whispered through the mountains, carrying his name on the air, you knew he was gone.

But Simon… Simon would return.

Again and again, across lifetimes. Searching for you. Loving you.

Even if it was too late.

Centuries later, he stood frozen, eyes locked on the new translator stepping onto the base. Your smile was polite, a stranger's greeting, but his heart ached as the weight of lifetimes crashed over him.

"You're back," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

Yet, your eyes held no recognition—you didn’t remember him.

Yeah, I need a fic like that. 10 chapters, where I cry because damn, this man deserves happiness and so does the reader...

And bonus if the reader is on the fat, chubby side , because I need to see more of that.

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Real or not real?

Teaser

James Potter X reader. Slow burn. Warning for domestic abuse and neglect (Black family) (no Lily slander) Around 3.3k words?

A Spotify playlist of some ambient music!

Autumn in the Scottish Highlands was, in itself a reason to attend Hogwarts. Blue September skies, speckled with wispy clouds. The falling bronze leaves and the red hued sunsets.

This was no less than a second home to most students. A safe haven if you will. It was good to be going home.

She had grown up with Sirius and Regulus so her regular residence wasn't much of a home. Her parents Ignatius and Lucretia (Black) Prewett had left her to Orion and Walburga often so they could travel around France. Noone actually knew where they would be or for how long they would travel. Only that they were always gone for indefinite amounts of time. They never sent letters, maybe an odd postcard or two. Y/N kept them hidden in a drawer in her room. (Call her sentimental if you will.) The terrible house of Black had adored her until she was sorted into Gryffindor along with Sirius. After that, they were both called blood traitors and treated as such. However, being someone else’s child, they treated her with less disdain than Sirius. That being said, they weren't the kindest of people, if at all.

Y/N would bring Sirius half her food when he would get sent to his room early without dinner. (which was quite often.) Sneaking things in her long sleeves and pockets whenever she could. Strangely, Kreacher had caught her once, but he said absolutely nothing and pretended that he saw nothing. (She would not forget this kindness.)

Things only escalated when they reached their, now, fifth year. Y/N always took her yellings, occasional threats, and hexes in silence whereas Sirius would fight back. In a way, she admired him for his bravery, knowing that he possessed the strength that she lacked. Whereas, his admiration for her resided in her refusal to back down, cry or beg. They had a mutual respect for one another. On another hand, she was somewhat envious of Regulus, he was apparently the perfect child who was, (seemingly) loved.

That was until she started to notice the bags under his eyes at the beginning of this year. She hadn’t really had the chance to talk to him, between Walburga’s looming presence and by the younger boy’s being sorted into Slytherin. However, she had the feeling he wasn’t exactly taking up his family ideals to heart.

Ever since fifth year began, Y/N and Sirius had never again called 12 Grimmauld Place home.

~

Y/N kicked her feet rhythmically, leaning her head on Lily Evans' shoulder. Their Hogwarts express compartment was filled with chatter, a welcome distraction from her thoughts. Somehow, over the past four years, she had been adopted into the gryffindor group of girls in her dormitory. Lily, Alice, Marlene, and Dorcas, had patiently and painstakingly, coaxed the girl out of her shell. Y/N was truly grateful for their friendship. In the beginning she couldn't help feeling that their kindness was based on pity. That had made it hard for her to trust them. This meant that before fifth year, she had never really interacted with them outside of the Gryffindor house dorms.

Marlene and Dorcras were pelting question after question at Alice, wanting to know the details of her crush on Frank Longbottom. Ever the curious couple, Y/N felt slightly glad that she wasn’t on the receiving end of their questions.

‘You’ll be “Alice Longbottom” one day.’ Y/N grinned teasingly at the girl with the pixie cut.

Alice laughed before shrugging good naturedly, 'We’ll see. Frank is awfully shy. I might have to be the one initiating everything.’

Marlene cut in with her arm around Dorcas, ever a picturesque couple. ‘And Lily’s last name will be “Potter!”’

Y/N stifled a giggle at the comment.

Lily gagged before letting out a sigh, ‘It’s not that Potter isn’t just a complete tool. I’m also just not into men.’

Y/N shrugged. ‘Yeah, you keep making eyes at Emmeline Vance during charms. It’s actually kind of sickening how adorable your pining face is.’

Lily flicked Y/N’s nose. ‘When are you going to start hanging out with us outside the dorms? All you do is go to the library or hide in the kitchens and bake while chatting with the elves.’

Dorcas pouted, adding, ‘You don't even sit with us during class!’

Y/N winced while casting her eyes down. Another thing, she really didn’t like drawing attention to herself or loud noises. Those things usually lead to shouting and maybe a raised hand back at Grimmauld Place. They caused an unpleasant reaction out of the girl.

‘I can’t do crowds, I really am sorry. It’s not that I don't want to, you’re all lovely but-’

‘That's alright, you take your time love. You'll come talk to the rest of us when you're ready.’ Alice gently reassured her, patting the girl beside her on the arm.

Y/N smiled gratefully. The girls weren’t at all pushy about getting Y/N to hang out with them. However, they did always ask. They wanted her to feel and be included. None of them ever took a rejection personally. It was what made Y/N lower her walls all the more.

Lily ruffled Y/N’s hair affectionately. The rest of the girls continued their chat whilst the introverted girl stared out the window, still leaning on Lily’s shoulder, taking in the view and enjoying the company. The dark pine trees that littered the lands surrounding all the lochs, glittered in the rare sunlight. She let out a soft sigh, allowing herself to relax, just for that moment.

~

The hustle and bustle of the students, all ecstatic to see each other again made Y/N giddy. She had, however, skipped the feast, opting to go say hello to all the elves who had finished preparing the feast. She particularly enjoyed Wigby’s desserts. (He was admittedly her favourite house elf.) He made the best sweets which led to Y/N learning all her baking skills from the friendly house elf.

The halls were electric with energy, almost tangible. This year Y/N and her friends were to be taking their O.W.L exams. To be honest, she was completely ready, having already studied up to the N.E.W.T level of all her subjects. Studying and reading at Hogwarts was her escape, truly. She padded into the first class, Potions. She slipped into the seat next to Lily, quickly giving the red haired girl a gentle squeeze on her hand and flashing a smile at the rest of the girls who greeted her enthusiastically. They had convinced her to sit with them during classes this year instead of her usual spot at the back away from prying eyes.

As they continued their conversation, Y/N unpacked her quill, and parchment while waiting for the lesson to start. As she doodled a small picture of a cauldron, a cocky voice crooned out. ‘Ah, my sweet girl, how I’ve missed- Who are you and why are you in my seat?’, James Potter. Lily’s self proclaimed “sweetheart” word vomited at the poor girl.

Y/N gripped the desk tightly, her knuckles turning white. Confrontation, how lovely. As much of an amusing topic of complaint he was that she had heard from conversation with the girls. He was completely unfamiliar to her. She found a spot on the table and stared at it with the utmost concentration, unable to bring her eyes to meet the owner of the voice. Lily also ignored the voice. Instead opting to cover Y/N’s hand with her own, continuing her conversation with Marlene, and Dorcas about the importance of studying for their O.W.L’s

‘Ah, you’ll survive the lesson James, come on,’ a voice drawled, waving James away. A voice which Y/N immediately recognised as belonging to Sirius.

Y/N looked up and turned around, wanting to meet Sirius’s eyes to mouth a, “Thank you” but her eyes met hazel ones instead.

‘Oh.’ James mumbled with wide eyes. He was standing right behind her, not having moved back to his actual “spot”.

Y/N’s eyes darted away immediately before finding Sirius’s. His eyebrows were raised with mirth and he smiled, shrugging his shoulders. She flashed him a small smile before turning around, basically ignoring James Potter. This was new. People didn't usually ignore him. They would at least retort with something witty, but to be completely silent?

‘Mr Potter, I trust you will be able to find your seat?’ Professor Slughorn called out, striding into the classroom, his large belly preceding him through the door. He was Y/N's favourite professor. He was kind to Lily and Y/N. (Probably due to their prowess in potions but nonetheless!)

‘Yes sir.’ James sat down without protest, his gaze lingering on her before his thoughts were interrupted by Professor Slughorn. He hadn’t noticed her before. How had he not noticed someone for four years?

‘Today, we will be assigning our first assignment of the year. An essay on polyjuice potion. Four weeks sounds like ample time does it not?’

As the professor announced their first assignment. James couldn't help but notice how Y/N avoided looking in any direction that wasn't the front or her notes. He leaned in close to Sirius, whispering just loud enough for him to hear amongst the groans of the class,

‘What's her deal?’ He asked, glancing at Y/N again.

Y/N dutifully jotted down the specifics of the assignment, (unbeknownst to her) under James’s gaze, allowing Lily to periodically glance at her notes. She whispered something into Lily’s ear to which the redhead smiled at her and nodded.

‘What are they whispering about?’ James nudged Sirius again.

‘Y/N probably asked if Lily wanted to pair up.’ Remus interrupted. ‘She is rather shy.’

‘You know her?’ James gaped at the sandy haired boy.

‘James, Y/N has been in our classes since first year. She just doesn’t really talk.’

‘Besides, you’re too busy pining over your “Lilypad” to really notice any other women.’ Sirius mused with his arms crossed, feeling slightly protective of his little cousin.

‘And how do you know her?’ James retorted. Ignoring Sirius's quip, however true it could have been.

‘She’s my cousin.’

‘Huh.’ Remus blinked.

‘You didn't know that?’ James glanced at Remus ‘I thought you knew her?’

‘No, I just know she’s practically topping almost every class, she doesn’t really speak to-’

‘Now boys, would you like to share your conversation with the rest of Gryffindor and Slytherin?’ Slughorn called out to the boys, his large walrus moustache twitched above his lip, the man seemingly amused by their chattering.

‘No sir.’ Remus replied evenly.

‘Well then! I shall announce the pairings for the assignment!’ He smiled merrily, ignoring the cries of protest from the rest of the class.

Y/N’s face paled and she whipped her head to look at Lily. Usually they were paired off in their seats, not randomly. Y/N had truly enjoyed his classes up till now but this? Suddenly Slughorn was rapidly losing his status as favourite professor.

Lily looked at her worriedly, “Lets just hear who you have to pair with. If it's someone obnoxious, we’ll go speak to the professor or I’ll swap with you.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion at her friend's empathy.

‘I couldn’t ask that of you Lily.’ Y/N whispered, misty-eyed. Kindness was a luxury that Y/N had so often been not able to afford for so long. Seeing it up close and displayed just for her, she couldn't help but be slightly overwhelmed.

‘It’s okay, I’m the one who offered.’ Lily patted her arm, reassuring the fidgety girl.

‘If I could marry you Lily Evans, I would do it in a heartbeat.’ Y/N tugged at Lily’s sleeve, looking down bashfully.

‘Now if only you were into women.’ Lily grinned, squishing Y/N’s cheeks with her hands gently. ‘What a treat you would be.’

‘Lily!’ The shy girl pouted, batting away the other girl's hands playfully.

‘Ms Mckinnon, and Ms Meadowes,’ To which the couple let out a happy cheer.

‘James Potter, and Lily Evans,’ Lily slumped over immediately, letting her head rest onto the desk with a quite audible Thwump! To which Y/N giggled, at her sudden change in demeanour.

James was completely caught off guard when Professor Slughorn announced his partner for the assignment. He had been so preoccupied with the revelation of Y/N being related to Sirius and trying to figure her out that he hadn’t even been paying attention to the teacher. He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at Lily’s exaggerated head bang onto the desk after hearing her own partner. Before he could think of a witty comeback, he heard the next pairing.

‘Sirius Black, and Y/N Prewett.’ Y/N perked up, looking at Lily with bright eyes, shaking her head with a smile. This was one of the people she would be able to work with!

‘Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.’ The two boys subtly high fived. Strangely enough, James wasn’t making a huge fuss over being paired with Lily. Strange enough for even Y/N to take notice, though she refrained from commenting.

Remus took a side glance at James, he wasn't sure if he would regret asking his friend his question.

‘You're not ecstatic over being paired with Lily?’ Remus questioned.

‘I am, I just...’ James shook his head. At this point, he knew Lily wasn't into him. In fact, he wasn't even sure she liked men. He wasn't the only boy in Hogwarts to have ever asked her out. At this point, it was just a long bit and a way to keep other girls from approaching him.

Sirius smirked knowingly. He may have been a lazy student but he sure as hell wasn't stupid. He could tell that after third years incessant rejections, James had no desire to date LIly ever since.

‘Since you all feel the need to cheer at each pairing. I shall leave the list on the board and you can all cheer at the same time. Take this time to move into your pair and discuss your assignment. That'll be all for this lesson. Welcome back students.’ Slughorn's eyes glimmered with amusement, revealing the quip towards the class to be good natured. The professor sat back down at his seat as the class began to disperse once again into chatter and movement. He generously answered stray questions from the students who wandered to his desk in need of assistance.

Y/N stood up and walked over to Sirius’s desk and nudged his foot with her own. Grabbing his attention soundlessly.

Sirius gave her a genuine smile and shoved James with his shoulder.

‘Go over to your “Lily flower”. I’ve got to discuss the assignment with my partner.’

James blinked owlishly at Y/N, still taking in her very existence.

‘Sorry?’ Y/N whispered, looking at him hesitantly.

‘Quite alright,’ James nodded, standing up to walk towards Lily without his signature smirk.

Y/N sat down with Sirius and smiled shyly before asking, ‘Is Potter alright? I thought he would be thrilled to be up partnered with Lily?’

Sirius blinked, ‘You keep up with this stuff?’

Y/N tilted her head from side to side, ‘Not particularly, more like I listen to Lily complain in the dorms. It’s hard to miss. She says he's quite…’

‘Stubborn?’

‘We’ll go with that.’ She quickly agreed, not wanting to rat out her friend.

‘Hey so this means you finally have to talk to me outside of our house.’ Sirius teased.

Y/N grinned at him and retorted, ‘I’m not sharing my food with you here at home Sirius, we get plenty to eat here.’

They shared a smile. Knowing they had each other's backs even without constant catch ups was a good feeling. The unspoken bond they shared wasn’t obvious to outsiders, but Sirius and Y/N knew, and that was enough.

‘So, the assignment. We’re describing how to brew the potion, all the ingredients and for extra credit, we can list out the dangers of the potion such as the errors.’

Sirius sighed, ‘I’m not really good with the-’

‘You’re good at finding information, I’ll handle the writing, you just tell me the information and I’ll make it sound good!’ Y/N nodded excitedly.

‘What do you mean?’ Sirius stared blankly at the girl, completely unconvinced.

‘You always know where, how and who to prank! It's the same thing!’

‘It’s completely different.’ Sirius deadpanned.

‘Where did you learn the hair changing spell?’ Y/N crossed her arms.

‘In a transfiguration textbook. I was putting the books back in the library after Remus and oh-’ Sirius nodded slowly as he came to realise what the girl meant by being “good”.

‘See?’ Y/N smiled at him brilliantly, seeming proud of his (apparent) talent.

‘Y’know, this is nice, why don’t we do this more often.’

‘I don’t do-’

‘Crowds, yeah I know, and at the house, we’re too emotionally exhausted to talk.’

They both let out a heavy sigh before chuckling at their shared experience. Comfortable silences were rare, but with each other, the cousins were able to revel in each other's company. A truly unique connection formed by trauma. 'At least something good came out of it?' They had mused.

As the rest of the class chattered away, discussing the project or just gossiping, Y/N and Sirius decided to meet up after dinner that night and every wednesday. The pair knew they had Defence Against the Dark Arts next. Sirius offered to walk with her to class, to which she accepted gratefully, mentioning Lily and Alice would probably also be with her.

As the class began to filter out, Lily and Alice had walked over to Y/N to wait for her.

‘You’ve got DADA next, with us right?’ Alice beamed.

Y/N nodded, somewhat feeling excited to have people to walk to class with. Being with three people wouldn't be a crowd!

‘There's a new teacher this year!’ Lily supplied this new information.

‘Again?’ Y/N wrinkled her nose. It was rather strange actually, ever since professor Merrythought had retired, it seemed as if every Defence teacher had resigned after a year.

A rather strange situation, but, none of her concern.

‘Who is it?’ She asked as a passing question, not overly invested in the answer.

‘Some guy named Knittingley.’ Remus piped up from behind them, startling Y/N into almost dropping her books.

‘Sorry love,’ he grinned sheepishly, ‘you alright?’

‘Ah, you down right scared the poor thing, Remus. Now she won't ever talk to us again.’ Sirius whined before breaking into a cheeky smirk, waggling his eyebrows up and down.

Y/N considered throwing something at her relative but then decided it would be too much work and that her books weren’t made for throwing.

‘What’s the hold up?’ James questioned from the doorway, calling out to the group, ‘lets go, Peter’s already gone ahead.’

Suddenly it wasn’t only three people anymore.

Somehow, Y/N had been looped into walking to class with five other people. Technically five was a group, not really a crowd, right? Sirius had swung his arm over Y/N, as if preventing her from running away.

Lily and Alice were in the front, enthusiastically discussing the topics of the next class. They were fervently hoping that their first class wasn’t going to be a revision on Boggarts, as they knew it would be in the curriculum.

Meanwhile, in the back, James was asking Remus about something about mandrake leaves and cycles of the moon.

In the midst of her conversation with Sirius, their formation, Y/N noticed. It seemed like almost a barrier against other students? Y/N internally shook her head. Most likely a coincidence, right? Why would it be intentional?

Sirius was babbling on, about the effects of conditioner on hair and how he found it amusing that James would use one that had a charm to make his hair extra bouncy. Y/N had stiffened a chuckle at this while James whined as he heard this and protested that he needed the extra shine and bounce.

‘It makes me look nice!’

To which Y/N nodded along, looking at Sirius, not noticing that James had beamed when she seemingly agreed. Remus looked on with a rather pleased smile, his nose scrunching. He had always wanted to befriend the shy girl. Now that she had somehow mustered up the courage (been practically physically restrained) to keep up with their group. He, along with the rest of the group, was excited to witness this side of the girl they had never seen before.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, her fifth year would be the true beginning of her life at Hogwarts.

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

AND THATS CHAPTER 1 DONE! Lucky for you guys (all like 7 of you) I have the ENTIRE story planned out! All there is, is for me to flesh it out! Please like or comment if you'd like another part! (if not I'll still probably post it, I'm too excited about this!) This isn't inline with my Pethryn story line and I have taken some liberties! I'm sorry again if you don't particularly like this! We will be delving into Remus being a werewolf, the Marauders map and fleshing out Regulus and Snape's characters! (possibly Peter as well. I kinda hate that guy 🤬) ALSO YES THE TITLE IS LOOSELY INSPIRED BY THE HUNGER GAMES!

edit-

Okay, I changed my mind, I want this to be a long form fic- THIS IS NOW JUST THE TEASER

[quinnylouhughesx43]

Believe in Me — jh86

summary: in which the summer following Jack’s rookie year is coming to an end. Not only did his rookie year come with being shafted by the league as the biggest bust, but he managed to get painted as the biggest (and newest) playboy of the league. His personal management team, the team’s management, and PR step in to clear this all up, but it takes work from Jack.

warnings/points of importance: use of y/n, fem!reader x jack, use of nicknames for female character and for Jack, fake dating trope, oblivious pining trope(?), childhood friends, minor usage of foul language, creation of side original characters for plot, time jumps, memories inserted - tumblr’s intention and italics used to notate, inner thoughts marked with ‘..’ and italicized if they occur

word count: 4.32

notes: any names used for original characters that relate to someone’s name or closely relate to a person’s name is purely by happenstance. The names were rolled by random from a generator where I inserted random first and last names.

© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

Y/n sat cross-legged on the worn wooden planks of the back porch swing, her eyes following the lazy dance of the sunset as it descended behind the distant tree line. Her childhood home had changed so little over the years, the same comforting embrace of familiarity wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a chilly evening. The porch swing squeaked in a soothing rhythm as both her and Jack slowly swung, a nostalgic tune that had serenaded countless summer nights spent sharing secrets and laughter with Jack. The only other kid who had been in her grade when she moved in, well really one of the only other neighborhood children. The other two children in the neighborhood were his brothers. All three of which had become as much a part of her life as the very foundation of the house she grew up in.

She had spent all day out with his family by the pool, her mother insisted he come to their house for dinner though. Nothing to offer course for their life, well a year ago it wouldn’t have been.

"Do you want to talk about your new headline?" Y/n tried to hold back the hint of amusement in her tone but failed miserably. Jack's rookie season had just come to an end before the beginning of summer. In just a few months he had gone from the talk of the league as the number one draft pick to talk of the league as a "bust."

He was nothing close to a bust. It was just how the year fell.

Jack leaned back in the swing, the sun's final strokes of light for the day painting his cheekbones. He sighed; a heavy exhale filled with the weight of the rumors that had been following him like a dark shadow. "It's just how it's going to be now. You know how it is with the media. They're desperate to find a new angle to keep me going." There were a few moments of silence shared between them before he found the words to continue. "First, it's all about my game, how I'm not scoring enough or I'm not this hotshot star that every analyst built me up to be. Season ends and it's about my supposed love life." His voice was a mix of annoyance and defeat. He was used to being the center of attention, truthfully he strived to be in the center of attention. He just wasn't used to it always being negative attention.

"To be it all, I have this video chat meeting with public relations, franchise management, and my management team about some idea they have come up with to help bring attention away from everything." Jack groaned. "We have three days left of the summer before we drive back to Jersey, I don't want to spend one of them in meetings."

Y/n nodded sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his forearm and leaning herself over on him. "It's okay, bubs. Maybe it's nothing too serious." But she could tell from the furrow in his brow, the way his jaw clenched and the tension in his voice that he was already aware of what they had come up with. Or at least he had an idea. She didn't dare pry, they may be best friends, but Jack was clearly not ready to share his thoughts. "And... If it is serious I will be in Jersey this season to help you through it."

Jack gave her a grateful smile before standing up from the porch swing, stretching his arms out wide. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't worry about it tonight." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, a gesture that was as commonplace as breathing between the two of them. "Thanks for the pep talk, toots." He said, using the childhood nickname that never failed to make her smile despite the circumstances. "I should head back down the street to my parent's place. It's getting late."

As he turned to leave, the rising moon cast a cool glow over the yard, highlighting the tall blades of grass that danced with the intermittent breeze. Y/n watched him go, her mind racing with the implications of what might happen at that during his meeting tomorrow. Would they really suggest something so ridiculous? And if they did, how would Jack handle it?

Jack's footsteps grew fainter until they were swallowed by the night. The house, once alive with the echoes of their laughter, now felt eerily quiet. Y/n remained seated out on the swing, her thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of doubt and concern. She knew Jack was strong, capable of taking on any challenge thrown his way, but the thought of him being manipulated into some scheme to save the face of the Devils franchise made her sick. Then she thought, what if they didn't call a meeting to manipulate him into anything? What if it's simply to offer suggestions on what he can do differently going forward?

Y/n eventually shut that portion of her brain off and headed inside herself. A long hot shower and her bed was calling her name.

The next day Jack sat in his father's home office, the room smelling faintly of cologne and leather, waiting for the others to join the video call. The space was a testament to his father's success, filled with trophies and framed newspaper articles from his own days as a star player and coach. It was both inspiring and daunting, a constant reminder of the legacy he and his brothers were trying to live up to. The computer screen flickered to life, displaying a Zoom call with a row of faces, some familiar, some not. His management team, PR reps, and a couple of team officials stared back at him, all expectant and poised.

Jack leaned back in the chair, his casual attire feeling woefully inadequate among the suits and professional backgrounds of his callers. He had taken his mother's advice and dressed comfortably, but now he wished he had at least put on a button-up shirt. He glanced down at his New Jersey Devils t-shirt, the logo stretched slightly across his chest. It was a fan favorite, one that had been thrown at him in excitement by a young fan at a game. It felt like a piece of armor, a symbol of his pride and commitment to the team, but today it just made him feel like he was the kid, and he was playing dress-up in his dad's old gear.

The meeting began with a round of forced smiles and awkward greetings. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Y/n's words from the night before echoed in his mind, a comforting whisper amidst the storm of uncertainty. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for whoever their absurd suggestion be his girlfriend when they had conjured up the fake relationship idea to "fix" his image.

"Jack, before we start, do you remember the guidelines I told you for this relationship or should we go over them again with everyone here?" The voice was cold and calculated, belonging to one of the stern-faced PR reps. Her eyes bore into him through the screen, demanding his full attention.

Jack's stomach lurched. He had hoped they would just come right out with what was new, news. "I think everyone is aware of what we're trying to achieve here, but please go ahead," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm at bay.

The stern-faced public relations rep, Ms. Castellanos, nodded curtly. "Good. So, the first guideline is that you two must be seen together at least three times a week. This includes public appearances such as dates, her being seen attending your games, and even casual outings like grocery shopping or walking the dog. That is if you or her have one."

Jack's eyes widened slightly, glancing down at his half empty coffee mug. He didn't have a dog, but he still didn't know who this girl they paired him up with was. Plus, he didn't know if Y/n had picked up any new hobbies involving pets in her last year of college. It was never mentioned during their weekly calls or on visits. It would be important to know that since she’s going to be living with him.

"Jack, are you listening?" The voice brought him back to the present, the sternness of Ms. Castellanos' tone was unmistakable.

Jack swallowed down the anxiety that was bubbling up inside him and nodded in acknowledgement.

Ms. Castellanos continued, "Guideline two, and perhaps the most important one, is that the relationship must appear genuine. You must exhibit believable public affection and body language. This means holding hands, occasional kisses on the cheek, maybe a few on the lips if the situation calls for it. As for body language," the stone-cold lady stopped speaking, watching Jack carefully once more. "You're both young, attractive, and in the public eye. If you lean into each other, have your arms around each other's waist, or even occasionally rest your head on her shoulder, it'll look natural and convincing. The media will eat it up, and your image will be transformed from a lonely heartthrob to a lovestruck boyfriend in no time."

Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly, the thought of faking intimacy with someone he'd never met before was nerve-wracking, to say the least. He took another sip of his now lukewarm coffee, trying to imagine how awkward the first kiss would be. He had never been one for faking emotions, especially something as intimate as love.

Ms. Castellanos continued, her voice unforgiving. "Guideline four is critical. The relationship must end with your girlfriend, and I stress this, must be the one to initiate the breakup. It should be done publicly and dramatically enough to make headlines, but not so much that it causes a scandal." She paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in. "You cannot under any circumstances leave her. If it looks like you're the one who ended things, it'll only add fuel to the fire of your reputation. You need to be seen as the heartbroken party, the victim of a fickle heart. It'll humanize you, make you more relatable to the fans."

Jack felt his jaw clench at the coldness of the plan. He had agreed to a fake relationship to get the media off his back, but this was starting to feel like a script for a reality TV show gone wrong. "And what happens if we... I mean, if she gets tired of the whole thing?" He stumbled over his words, trying to maintain some semblance of respect for the stranger he was about to be romantically linked with.

"Ah, that's where guideline five comes into play," said Ms. Castellanos, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of her own cleverness. "We've prepared a non-disclosure agreement that she will be signing before the relationship begins. It's quite comprehensive and includes clauses for breaking it off in a controlled manner. She'll understand her role in this, Jack."

Jack's grip tightened around his coffee mug, the cheap porcelain feeling fragile under his thumb. "But who is she?" he repeated, his voice a little louder, a hint of frustration creeping in.

Ms. Castellanos' smile didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Her name is Elena Petrov," she said smoothly. "A local influencer with a clean reputation. She's been briefed on the situation and has agreed to help. She's a fan of the team and understands the importance of this for your career."

"No." Jack huffed out. gaining the attention of everyone on the call. Just the same as Jack, everyone else barely stayed tuned into her annoying voice. "She is the reason I am in this shit hole. Her friend is the last girl I was with. Elena took all the pictures. Maggie? A little help here." Jack pleaded with the IT media girl that for some miraculous reason was sitting in on the call.

"Oh. Uhm, yes. It took me days to get the pictures she put up taken down. And Mr. Hughes, we were able to prove they were edited after looking closer at them," Maggie spoke up, her voice shaky, probably from fear of interrupting the woman that could potentially ruin their lives with a tweet.

Ms. Castellanos' eyes darted from Jack to Maggie and back again, her displeasure clear. "Jack, this is non-negotiable. This is what's best for your career right now. You need to be seen as more than just a party boy. The sooner you start this relationship with Elena, the sooner we can start repairing your image," she said, her voice like a whip cracking through the tension in the room.

Jack's manager, Mr. Taylor, cleared his throat before speaking up, his tone measured and calm. "Perhaps there's another option we haven't considered. What about Y/n?" he suggested, glancing at Jack, who looked up at him, hope flickering in his eyes.

Ms. Castellanos raised an eyebrow. "Your childhood friend?" She sounded skeptical, but the video stream grew quiet, all eyes on Jack.

Jack nodded, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. "Yeah, Y/n. We've been best friends since middle school. Everyone already thinks we're together. It'll be believable, and she's... she's not in the spotlight like Elena is. It'll keep things more low-key." He swallowed, hoping he wasn't about to ruin their friendship.

Ms. Castellanos leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "Very well, Jack. We'll consider it. But you need to talk to her and make sure she's on board with this. The last thing we need is for her to spill the beans and ruin the whole charade."

Jack nodded, his heart racing. He knew Y/n would do anything for him but asking her to be his fake girlfriend was a big ask. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he was about to have. After the call ended, he let out a guttural groan due to frustration. He needed to go shoot some basketball or pucks before he talked Y/n, but he didn't have that time to waste. Instead of blowing off some of his stress he slipped on some shoes, kissed his momma goodbye, and headed out to the house he has visited time and time again.

The warm afternoon air was a major contrast to the coldness of the conversation he had just had. The streetlights flickered to life as Jack approached Y/n's house, the familiar path to her door as comforting as ever. He stopped in front of the door, the color of her door had changed since last summer, but the memories that lie behind it remained the same.

Jack took a deep breath before raising his hand to knock, the sound echoing through his head. Only thing on his mind was the conversation they were about to have. Jack flinched as he realized how hard and urgent he had beat on her mother’s front door. His heart thudded against his chest, partially with the anticipation of her reaction to the proposal and because of how quickly he had walked down the block. Jack took a deep breath in an urgent need to calm himself and appear as normal as possible before he was face to face with her.

Before he could finish his internal mantra of calming himself, the front door swung open in a rush. He was slightly hoping it would somehow be one of her relatives, but there she was, looking up at him with her soft, hopeful eyes. Her hair messily tossed into a messy bun atop her head and a sprinkle of fresh freckles danced across her nose from spending the day in the sun with his family yesterday. She was wearing the momentous hoodie that he had gifted her before leaving last summer. A hoodie that held a lot in its threads for the two of them. For her, it now held a lot of silent screams and wiped away tears from the last year, but it still held their joint memories.

‘It originally had become Jack’s superstitious hoodie for a while. The lucky hoodie he would wear all the way up to when he would change for warm ups, then she would wear it. This superstition developed during the years of world juniors. The year he brought home the Gold, the superstition shifted. Jack had a “girlfriend” that entire season and she wasn’t fond of the idea of Jack and Y/n swapping clothes like they did. The games with the development program were when she noticed this happening. She confronted Y/n about having a useless crush on her boyfriend and she would be taking over wearing his hoodie from then on. Jack didn’t take lightly to it, that was his best friend, his biggest non-family supporter. So, he decided y/n would wear the hoodie the entire time, from the time they all got dressed for the day to after the game. Now, it’s hers entirely, his decision since he couldn’t be here for her and live out his dream. He wanted her to have a piece of him, but if be a piece of them. Once again, it has become her comfort item as it has been back then.’

She fiddled with the stretched out sleeves hanging over left hand anxiously as her right hand was still grasping the door knob.

"How was your meeting?" The words fell from her lips so fast she hadn't taken a moment to invite him inside. Y/n had sat out on the porch swing all morning waiting to hear from him. Seeing him now ignited her anxiety and her need to know.

Jack let out a simple laugh at her eagerness to know. He softly touched her side, giving a slight nudge as if to signal her to walk backwards into the house.

The coolness of the air conditioning kissing his skin. "It was... interesting," he said, his voice a mix of relief and dread.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. She walked a few steps backwards with his guidance to allow him in, the old floorboards creaking under their weight. "Interesting as in good or interesting bad?"

Jack shrugged, his smile wavering as he let go of her and made his way into the living room. The same room where they had spent hours playing video games, watching movies, doing homework.

—Could he ask her to do this? What if it blows up in their faces and ruins everything. What if he ruins her? He’d never be able to live with himself for hurting her.

The couch looked inviting, but he knew better than to sit down without spilling his guts. "Well, it’s one of those ‘depends on how you take it’ interesting type situations..." he trailed off, his eyes wandering around the room.

Y/n looked at him, her eyebrows rising in a questioning manner. Her eyes were filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. She could read the hesitancy written all across him. Starting with wanting to open up about his meeting. Which is something he's never had an issue with, at least with her, to not wanting to sit down. Almost as if, if he got too comfortable he would tell too much.

Taking a hold of his hand, rubbing her thumb over his palm she leaned her head on his upper arm. A common gesture between them. “Jackers?” She whispered so softly, he nearly missed it. He hummed in response coming out from where he drifted off too. She took a hold of his hand and softly pulled him down to take a seat on the couch with her.

“Jackers, just tell me. Did they come up with something ridiculous?"

Jack let out a small laugh , the sound hollow and forced. "Ridiculous doesn't even begin to cover it," he whined, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "They want me to start a fake relationship with someone who I know is not going to help me. Then my manager suggested someone who would be great and I was for it because we already know each other but.." He took a deep breath, bracing himself for her reaction.

Y/n let go of his hand, in an unnatural reaction as they have been platonically physical since high school, "A fake relationship?" she echoed that one snippet. “With.. With who? Since I’ll be living with you I should be prepared for a new girl even if she is a fake girlfriend.”

Jack took a deep breath and looked up at her, his eyes filled with a desperation she had never seen before. "Toots, I really don't know what to do about this. PR decided on Elena Petrov. B—”

“You mean the friend of the bitch who started this mess? No I’m sorry the two who started this mess? You’re going to pounce around all lovey with the girl who put you here?!” Y/n’s chest heaved up and down heavily. She watched Jack’s face twist in annoyance then soften.

“If you had let me finish… I flat out said no. I will not and am not going to do this plan with her. When I told everyone on the call right then that I wouldn’t, my manager suggested someone else. But I don’t know if they’ll do it. They seem pretty disappointed in me…” Jack kept his voice even and didn’t raise it. He knew how you felt about being yelled at and he couldn’t be the one to cause a panic attack because he got a little upset.

“Well, who did they suggest? Maybe I can help. As long as it’s not Elena..”

“They suggested you. They asked me if I thought you would do it or if I would like you to do it with me. But if you're upset or disappointed, I'll tell them no right now," Jack explained, his voice a low rumble of uncertainty. He started fishing his phone out of his pocket in case he had to call his manager.

Y/n felt her throat tighten as a knot formed, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She had always been there for Jack, and he for her, but this was something entirely different. This was a line they hadn’t truly crossed, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to pretend to cross it again. "Jack, I..." she murmured looking down at her hands in her lap, her voice trembling slightly. "Yes, I'll do it."

Jack's head snapped to look at her, his eyes failing to meet hers as she’s staring down, though a spark of hope igniting within him still. "You will?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

Y/n nodded, her throat tight with unspoken emotions. "Yeah, I'll do it," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "For you, I'll do it."

Jack's shoulders slumped with relief. He reached out to lift her head hesitantly so that he could meet her eyes with his. His eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. "You don't have to if you don't want to, management can figure it out.”

Y/n forced a smile and nodding her head yes, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread. The thrill of being able to go and do things with Jack was nice, but the dread of being scrutinized by females she didn’t know was already gnawing at her. "Besides, it's only for a couple of months, right?"

Jack's smile didn't part to show his teeth, it stayed tight lipped, evident he wasn't as enthused as his tone of voice was letting on. "Yup! Just for a couple of months."

"Okay, we can totally pull this off. It will be like playing pretend, remember?" She nudged him with her elbow, trying to lighten the mood with a memory from their childhood. More so for herself than him.

"You mean like when we got married under that old oak tree at my grandparents' house in the summer between sixth and seventh grade?" Jack nudged her back.

"Yup when you only agreed to get pretend married so you could get your first kiss."

She let a little giggle slip out as she reminisced on the memory of her and Jack as kids under the oak tree.

A young Jack with his signature smirk standing at the ‘altar’ with the “preacher Luke”. Jack didn’t wait for Luke to do his part of the pretend wedding he skipped straight to the kiss. ‘Couldn’t wait tootsie I was just wanting my 1st’

"If I remember correctly that was your first kiss too, and you asked for another one because of the ‘belly flies’." Jack teased her enjoying seeing her cheeky smile and blush creeping up on to her cheeks.

Y/n’s laughter echoed loudly through the room. "Jack Hughes, you are such a jerk!" She said playfully, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Jack laughed echoing her laughter. "So, do we have an agreement? You'll be okay with fake dating me, even though we never got fake divorced?"

Y/n shook her head yes once again, while rolling her eyes at the boy next to her. “Yes, Jackers. Even though you never fake divorced me, I will fake date you.”

If she only knew that Jack was silently and brutally beating himself up for this. They were in for a roller coaster of chaos and changes.

Now that he had secured one portion of the agreement, he has footwork left in figuring out how to get out of the hoops and twists. Like how to get out of that very public break up after a few months into dating. He wasn’t going to make her out to be some bitch she’s not.

And if Jack has it his way, they won’t be breaking up and it won’t be a “fake” relationship for long either.

Because Jack Hughes is hopelessly in love with his best friend. If he has any luck, besides puck luck, she loves him too.

notes 2.0: hello! welcome to my newest mini series, believe in me i hope you enjoyed the first part of the series. i am always open to kindly put creative criticism. i truly appreciate all of the continued support by reading, liking, & reblogging! thank you thank you!

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Because I think I might get around writing for most of the men at some point for the future au I wanted to see or already arrange how many kids they would have

Jin would have two kids in complete accident, he was very happy by his father's discontent at his heir's lack of kids but things happened, the person who celebrated them the most was the grampa. Maybe two boys or a boy and a baby girl.

Thoma screams girl dad, doesn't he? Just imagine him braiding her hair for evening tea and being a menace to any boys she brings home with Alan if they break her heart, he is still a delinquent at heart.

For Luca I'm split between wanting him to have two boys to mirror him and his brother or a spoiled girl he plays knight for, sigh, such a hard decision...

Kaito, how did he reproduce?

Alan, two kids, one of each, no hesitation, he has a ‘little princess’ who he is nervous of hurting accidentally when he holds her but is as much of a wild beast as his brother. They like going hiking and getting chased by their dad when they get too close to a lake or too far away from the path.

In Leo’s scenario i see him with a daughter that managed to soften out his meanness (while she is around so she doesn't pick up on much of his sass, kids don't make miracles) and left him with another on the way that I also feel would be another girl. He is just a bit annoyed he doesn't have to redo the nursery for content but whatever.

Sho I KNOW that in his fic I said ‘nephew’ but imagine a baby girl that was playing with her family before she was even born and had you two scattering to find a girl's name at the hospital. It's just the beginning of her mischievous streak. Sho thinks it's his karma from being a thug as a teen.

I don't know why but I can see Romeo having three kids? Maybe because Gucci had like five kids or it's to a certain degree to assure himself the MC wants to stay with him and wouldn't leave out of the blue 💔 attachment issues bb.

Ritsu originally only wanted one child, he was an only child and was happy getting all the attention, but not everything went as he planned so he got twin boys.

Taiga, why would you do this to yourself??

Haru already has a son, peekaboo, but when he grows up he accidentally has a boy who he starts giving some minor tasks around, separating some leaves for the animals, brushing peekaboo’s hair, plucking weeds, etc etc. Don't look at him like that! He need all the help he can get.

Towa has girls! They like fairy tales with happy endings and always bother their dad to tell them your love story. When they become toddlers they go through a vegan phase to mimick him and will cry if they have meat or egg on their plate.

Ren was 99% sure he was going to die a virgin. He ends up with a girl he plays games with everyday after work. Borderline ipad kid.

Can grandpa Ed even have kids? Lol if he has I think I could see him with just one vampy baby that sits next to him and drinks tears off a sippy cup while his dad watches iceberg videos. Another ipad kid.

Rui (if somehow you broke his curse) is someone who I don't think would have kids, or at least not planned jajs but maybe one girl that he ends up overprotecting from playboy men like him in his youth.

Lyca I want to say they have a litter just for the joke of him being a werewolf but he doesn't seem to have any siblings so the joke doesn't get far :(

I see Subaru with only one child if any. He loves the little thing but feels he is intruding on their privacy, whenever he touches his preteen/teen kid he feels sorry enough to apologize.

I see Haku as someone who would be pretty chill with his life after Darkwick and go along with it as it happened. If you two had a child, great; if you didn't, great too. Very go with the flow parenting too.

Zenji he is dead wth jajajaj

Yuri NEEDS a little child that is always so impressed with their papa and he gets to brag about being the best or something. Please just don't let him be a strict teacher so your kid will follow his steps, he thinks it's for the best of their future but you can coerce him into just giving a very lengthy lecture about anomalous medicine without tests.

Jiro HAS to have a boy that is so similar to his uncle 🥹 always cooing since he is able to vocalize and chasing his dad around to get uppies while he tends to the backyard filled with herbs.

[flemingsgirl]

Enough pt. 3

Masterlist

For the opening ceremony you dress in the uniform you got before you left for Paris, personally you thought you were going back to school, but you kinda liked it, causal yet significant and holds bites of your nationality. With America being second last to be presented you had a long night however your time was spent valuable as you messaged back and forth with Jessie.

As the cameras were pointed on the American boat, you packed your phone into your bag, giving your attention to the crowd around you and the people in front of the television. Smiling, you wave to the viewer as you pass them, having an arm around your best friend and jumping up in your spot. Your phone was long forgotten, so when you hit the mattress as you were ready for the night, you had a glance at the device, flooded with several notifications from your family as well as from Jessie.

Tonight, I’m an American myself. GO USA! (and Canada ofc)

Oh, wow, they mixed up the names of north and south Korea…

Damn I see red, how could they. Relieved I’m not there it’s like much and roaring. Nvm go CANADA! #1

OMG!! Look who I spotted!!

Wow she’s kinda pretty, who’s that? Can you get me her number?

Don’t mind the Canadian athlete in the background with his outstanding tracksuit XD

Seems like you’re busy... :/ have fun and be careful. Let me now when you’re back so I know you’re safe! Good night beauty.

Here to say I’m back safe, already in my bed and ready to sleep. Nighty night.

Just moments later your phone rings and you’re quick to accept and stumble into the bathroom, not wanting to wake Avery. “Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey,” her voice raspy.

“Why’d you called?”

You could hear some rattling in the background, indicating that Jessie’s fidgeting with something. “Just checking in.”

“It’s late. I thought you were already asleep.”

“I know, but I wanted to hear your voice. Maybe I can sleep better or so I could even sleep at all.”

“Oh Jess. What’s wrong?”

The Canadian gulps. “I have troubles sleeping these past days. With all that happened. I can’t have a proper meal cause I don’t have that much appetite and I miss you like crazy and… and…” she rambles on.

“And what? Trust me, I’m on your side.”

“It’s way too soon.”

“About what? Jess, bebe talk to me.”

She stays silent a few seconds before she clears her throat. “I like you.”

“I like you too.”

Jessie tucks on her earlobe. “Like a lot.”

“Yeah, me too.” You lick your lips, rubbing your forehead. “Look, Jessie. I don’t mean it in any bad way or so. With those new standings maybe, we should wait until all the stressful and anxious days are over to take the next step.” You let Jessie assimilate the information. “Those games aren’t how you imagined them and it’s a hard pill to swallow. But I’m with you. You are enough just like you are, Jessie, don’t forget. You’re perfect in any way. If it gets too much call me, I’ll always be here. Okay?

“Yes,” she mumbles into the phone.

“I’ve got an offer.” You don’t hear any answer. “Jess?” a soft sob is audible. “Hey, hey, Jessie, it’s alright. I got you. Do you listen to me?” the line stays silent. “Jessie?” worry grows in the pit of your stomach. “Hey, hey, Fleming, you’re not ignoring me, you understand?” you chew on your bottom lip. “I suppose you lay in your bed… it’s okay if you fall asleep, yeah. I’ll take that credit. Close your eyes for me, would you?” you give her a second to adjust her position. Soft sobs still lingering in the air as she shuffles under her blanket. “I’ll lead you through the opening try to put your phone behind you at best next to your ear.” A moment passes. “Okay. So, before we were let onto the boat, we had a really dope kinda party in our village. Oh, your little shy self would’ve wanted to burry yourself in the ground. It was even too much for me,” you let out a laugh and one side of Jessie’s mouth turns up, her sobs dying. “It was so loud and there were so many people I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was there for like half an hour and it was scheduled for two hours,” your voice a soft whisper. “Fast forward to our boat tour it was so humid. I send you a pic from before, right? Five minutes later I put them into a ponytail cause they were clutched on my skin. I think we were like three hours on this boat and I’m glad we could message this time otherwise I would’ve died of boredom. I small talked with Simone Biles, LeBron James just to name some. yeah, it was great but a special someone has been missed.” Jessie doesn’t respond, the only sound audible are steady breaths. You wander back into your room and cover yourself with the blanket. “If it’s not clear. I’d like you to be here by my side. To see you and to hold you. I can’t wait to see you again Jessie. Good night until tomorrow.”

Three days later your first game in the tournament was scheduled. Your opponent was the Chinese team, a favoured aspirant for a medal. The start was rough the Chinese women pressured and lead the play. Roundabout an hour into the game your team was down two sets, only one set for the Chinese squad to win. In a matter of time the tables have turned, and the teams were tied, leading to a last set which decides the winner. At the score of 8:10 for the Chinese your coach had to switch you out. Five points before your opponent at the net crossed the foul line so that you landed on her feet and your knee twisted, a pain shot through your leg, but you kept playing. You communicated with your coach, and he took a time out for your team to discuss the matter and how you’ll switch on the field. Your heart scattered as you limp to the sideline where your roommate and best friend stepped up next to the referee and took your place. She gave you a quick hug and reassured you, drying a tear that left your eye. On your way to the bench, you exchange high-fives with the team officials. Taking a seat the physio makes his way over to you and kneels in front of you. By the time you shield your face with your hands and every now and then you dry some tears with the hem of your shirt. In the end your team is defeated which is another heartbreak for you and another wave of tears escape you. Teammates huddle around you and embrace your shaking body. Shortly after you find yourself in the changing room getting ready to shower and put on your comfy clothes for the night.

“What did they say about your knee?”

“It shouldn’t be something serious, but they want to give me a break the next game and maybe the one after.”

“That’s promising.”

“Kinda. Hopefully it works out. If not, they want me to get examined.”

“Reasonable.” You just nod too exhausted and gloomy, only wanting to be in your bed and talk with a special Canadian.

“Hey gorgeous, how are you? You played so well.” You burry your face into the cushion, hiding the blush that grows. “Hey, hey, no hiding here, show me your pretty face.” Her chuckles fill the air, and your heart skips a beat. The past days Jessie’s quite outgoing, charming and offensive.

“Thank you I tried my best, but it didn’t work for us. I’m okay, I think.”

“It’s the thought that counts. Next time will be better. Oh Y/N.” Jessie’s eyes dart over your face. “Tell me.”

“Yeah hopefully.” you stop, a shaky breath escapes your lips, “I... it’s…”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“It’s my knee.” You let out a sob. “It just happened and it.”

“But you played on. Were you already in pain?

“Not much, it was kinda unstable and stiff. I don’t know what you’ve seen.”

“At some point you were on the ground and then you stood up and played on. After a few points your trainer took the timeout.”

“For tactics. He sorted the team with the substitution he was going to make. The other player crossed the line and I landed on her foot and mine gave in twisting, and I fell, that was embarrassing.”

“Nothing about it is embarrassing. It’s not your fault and things like that can happen to anyone… I mean the falling, not the injury. How many times am I thrown to the floor or challenged?”

“But it’s part of your game.”

“Are you trying to make my argument unreasonable?” she lowers her eyebrows. “I dare you.”

“What if I do? Try me,” you giggle afterwards as she gives you an evil eye.

“You wouldn’t want that,” she winks at you while she licks her lips, a smug placing itself on them afterward. The heat creeps into her cheeks but Jessie ignores it, holding the stare at you.

You are the first to break the eye contact covering your face with your hands. A grunt finds its way out of your mouth, and you claps your pillow over your head. “Hey, hey, hey shooow youuurself,” the Canadian drags out and you can hear how she pokes her screen.

“Stop it,” you groan and roll your eyes when your face comes to display again as you set the pillow down.

She beams at you, eyes closed, and her nose scrunched. “What do you mean?”

“You being cheesy. A whole new side of you.”

“Oh, stop complaining. I know you like it.”

“How so?”

“Cause you’re still talking to me.”

“I really like this new confident, keep it Fleming.”

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

seeing spirit leading the story in the latest chapter was nice, will we learn more about her, backstory wise? afaik, all we know is she was captured by bandits and is repaying reader by helping her, and will eventually see reader as a sister figure. she doesn't speak monkey, so that most likely means she doesn't have a troop right? who did spirit grow up with?

Oho. Now this is fun! Spirit's backstory is mostly a mystery to most people because she is a lone monkey demoness. She does have family, but she never talks to them. (Mostly because she doesn't know most of them)

Spoilers below on her backstory. You know I probably should add these cuts for most questions... eh it's fine.

Spirit is the daughter of a monkey demon and a human woman. They weren't in love, far from it they simply wanted a one night stand (or rather they both got drunk and ended up having a one night stand). So after they were done the demon left and never came back.

The woman Chu Lin gave birth to a single monkey cub, whom she raised with love and care. Being human she had no idea about monkey customs, so she never taught her daughter about it since she didn't know about them. Like at all.

Which results in Spirit, not knowing how to speak monkey, 'properly groom' (she does it instinctively but was never taught so it's not proper) and she was shunned by the village along with her mother.

Because she and her mother were outcasted from their home, Spirit didn't like humans. Except when they traveled she met several who had no problems with her appearances and looks. So she saw people as just that people both good and bad. She knows you can't judge a book by it's cover ever.

Along their travel to find a new home, they came across a forest. One with a very playful six tailed fox demoness named Su. A demoness skilled in fire, lighting, and a few glamours. She lived in the forest for a long while before they traveled through. She played several pranks on the two as they passed through but decided just before they could leave to give Spirit a gift. She taught her how to use glamours, just enough to make her look human.

Because of this, her mother and her were finally able to settle down in a human village for a while. There, her mother met a man that she fell in love with. They got married rather quickly, and Spirit decided that it was then that she should leave. Her mother was safe and taken care of, she was now an adult and could take care of herself too.

She stayed for the wedding of course and got to see them after their honeymoon. After they saw each other one last time once their honey moon was over though, she left. She gave her mother a gift, a small Jade pin in the shape of a monkey and just left. (She did say goodbye and their were tears)

The reason she wanted to leave was to find her father, the man who helped give her life. She needed to learn more about her home and culture. So she set off to learn about her own kind, with a bow and her glamours she was she that she could do this.

However, there was an accident. She ran into a demon who was rather powerful. After fighting for a while, she got knocked out and lost most of her memories. So she doesn't remember anything about her Iife before the fight. All she remembers is that she got into a fight with a golden monkey demon.

She began to travel after she woke up. The demon was long gone by then. It's about two years before she gets ambushed by the bandits, and in that time, she learns several things about life. So that's why she's not running around trying to remember her life because she's already tried and failed. So she wanders the world searching for... something. What was she searching for?

Until she gets ambushed by bandits. She is pissed off by this, of course. They had ambushed her while she was sleeping and stole her bow! So now she has put her mission on hold to help a human. At least she's a very nice human, so she doesn't mind it too much.

Besides, maybe she'll be able to find her memories with the help of this human. After all, she did appear out of nowhere. Though she doesn't get her hopes up with this.

Of course that is until the monkeys cubs get involved. She doesn't mind cubs truly she doesn't. She normally likes them not quite love because she's not good with kids but she likes them. But something about these two... it's just so something... she can't quite put her finger on it. Especially with how they are getting clingyer and clingyer by the day.

She gets annoyed at the two often and at times wants to just toss them aside. Of course, they don't really give her that chance and try their best to hog reader all for themselves. Not that they'll try to do anything to Spirit, she is the provider that gets most of the food for Reader after all.

Eventually, she'll meet her dad (on a certain island) and learn he has a mate, who he got together with after the whole one night stand. And she'll learn that she has two siblings, who are very keen on the idea of a big sister. Her father's mate is even welcoming to her, much to her surprise.

After all if that was her dad, and that was his mate. But his mate isn't her mother than... who is her mother?

I loved this ask! Please send more my way if you want. No pressure it just helps me think on my stories and no I did not just come up with her backstory (I totally did, but I like it so meh!)

Also, if you wanna learn about Su, then send an ask. She's gonna be popping up in the story too later. @sleepingdramaqueen has heard about her before. Hehe~

And yes, I will add more to this backstory, but I just came up with it, so yeah. I'm debating on if I'm gonna mate her ace or give her a love interest. So far, she doesn't have one (if you have any suggestions for one, though send them my way!!)

[thevikingwoman]

written for @idrellegames Wayfarer’s 3rd anniversary!

Fandom: Wayfarer IF | Words: 740 | Read on Ao3

Illia Strand | before episode 1 | gen Rating: Teen. Illia receives bad news, contemplating your place in the world, spoilers for ep1, rough times, complicated family

Legacy

It’s beautiful weather when the news reach Illia Strand. The sun is out, but it’s not too hot and a pleasant breeze brings fresh air through the streets. The large port city is an oft used stopping spot for Wayfarers heading home – home to the Spire – so it’s not strange that Varyn’s letter finds her here. It takes her two times to understand the content of it.

The Spire is gone.

Her home is gone.

She’s numb. She stands there, in the street outside the apothecary that sometimes serves as a delivery hub for wayfarers. She has no idea how long time passes, or how many times she reads the letter. Illia doesn’t move until someone bumps into her, swearing and swearing again when they discover she’s magiani. She mumbles an excuse and puts the letter away, shoving it into her pack.

What if she’d received Sero’s summons in time? What if she’d been at the Spire?

She wanders aimlessly, cobblestone and dirt under her feet. The busy calls of the market, jumping aside for a noble in a carriage. She doesn’t really notice any of it.

It was too complicated getting out of Vestra. The civil war has ripped the country apart, people seeing enemies everywhere. The countryside torn up, dead cattle and fields burned or crops left to rot. It was a wonder she even got Sero’s letter at all. Varyn’s network is strong, though – but not strong enough to prevent an assault on their home. Is it burnt? Rubble? She wonders if her fellow wayfarers are dead, bloated corpses in the snow like those in war. Aeran… She balks at the thought, willing it away. It’s no use. Don’t dream up information you don’t have, Varyn always said. Illia sucks in air, attempting the calming breaths of her mentor. It doesn’t help much.

She finds herself at the harbor. The gulls scream and the port is bustling, busy sailors loading and unloading. Off-duty crew looking for entertainment, or just a nice meal and a change of view. It’s tedious to be at sea, she knows.

Of course, there’s a familiar flag on a large ship at the end of the dock. She knows her family has been busy. Her father keen on expanding his power, though for all she knows it’s Aristos who runs the business now. She has avoided the ships when she saw them, likely as she is to run into one of her siblings. Her parents’ legacy, a family trade empire, every child captain of their own ship if they should wish. All except one, of course.

Illia can’t help but walk closer, some sort of bitter curiosity perhaps. The ship is big, and must have been here long enough to trade, sailors bringing goods aboard. Familiar Coveran is barked out as orders and idle chit chat both. The captain is by the gangplank, arguing with an official. She freezes. The same brown hair and grey eyes as herself. Same freckles, just fewer of them, scattered across the bridge of their nose. Lorsan, their sibling.

To see them here, now –

Illia wonders what they would do if she went to them. Would she be welcomed or turned away? Would Lorsan even recognize her? She’s a far cry from the forgotten little sister who got shoved out of their life many years past. But, she’s alone now. The letter in her pack tells her so, tells her to run. And Tol Covere and the Strand fleet is one place to run. She imagines Lorsan, greeting her like the long lost sibling she is. Mother, tearfully hugging her. Her father, saying she did well for their name after all. Maybe that one is a stretch.

Lorsan opens their pack and draws out brass scale. The magic unfolds itself, the scale balancing in the air. Some last-minute haggling, spices probably. A simple instrument, easy to use, and every merchant’s stable if they can afford it. The Strand family can, but it’s not something she can use. She’d break the delicate magic with a simple careless touch.

No.

She does not belong in the Strand fleet. Their legacy is not hers.

She belongs with the Wayfarer Order, even if it no longer exists. Some were scatted, Varyn said. Perhaps she can find them. That is to be her legacy now, bitter as it is.

Illia turns from away the dock, her feet leading her back to the city.

[eggwishing]

neurotic pixie nightmare girl

[pears-trinkets]

.

[usuallydyinginside]

TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.

Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.

But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.

Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).

In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.

At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.

She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.

Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.

Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.

He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.

Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."

I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.

Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.

Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.

LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.

Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.

And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)

Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).

So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.

I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.

WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."

Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.

Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.

The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"

Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.

Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.

ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.

SO. MUCH. BETTER.

Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.

Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)

So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.

I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.

Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?

You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.

(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)

Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.

[lowkeyremi]

Arranged Marriage hcs with Toji (fem reader)

AU where Toji has cursed energy and was picked by the zenin clan. (he still hates them lol) also he doesn't meet mamagumi so megu is your biological son in this au :3

note: just some quick hcs cuz i couldn't get this thought out of my head. I've seen a bunch of arranged marriage satoru related things but I thought I'd switch it up. mentions of pregnancy

Arrangedhusband!Toji hates his family and refuses to get married just to fuck them over. (they want an heir)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who goes on a complete rampage when the news about his soon to be marriage finally reaches him through hushed whispers of some maids.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immediately goes to see Naobito, former head of the Zenin Clan to ask what the fuck is going on.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is enraged when he hears "you were given the opportunity to settle down yourself, but you didn't so we took matters into our own hands."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who requests to not have a wedding, he'll just sign the damn papers and get it over with.

Arrangedhusband!Toji doesn't visit you for at least a week upon your arrival. He's still pissed.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who finally decides to go visit you, he knocks on your door. You were given your own room to adjust to everything even though Naobito wanted you to be with Toji.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who's shocked when Mai opens the door and he sees you getting your hair done by Maki. The twins decorated your hair with a bunch of different flowers. (they're like maybe 10 in this)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who just stares at you. He doesn't say a word because he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't even know what you looked like until right now.

Arrangedhusband!Toji snaps out of his trance when you break the silence. "Good morning, Toji. It's nice to finally meet you." He catches on to your attitude at the end of your sentence and he doesn't even realize his lip quirking upward. Here he was thinking you'd be some damsel in distress, but it turns out you're pretty confident.

Arrangedhusband!Toji responds with "Uh, hey.." Is that the best he could come up with? You've left him at a loss for words.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who tries to get his shit together and deepens his voice to try and intimidate you a little. "Mornin', [name]. I'll send some maids over this way later. You are to accompany me for dinner tonight."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who hides a growing smile when you say, "Taking me on a first date after getting married? I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."

Arrangedhusband!Toji sits at the table waiting for your arrival. After seeing you he wanted to spend some alone time getting to know you, but his mother insisted on throwing a proper welcome dinner with the whole family.

Arrangedhusband!Toji requested that you sit right next to him. When you arrive someone ushers you to your seat. He whispers quietly enough for only you to hear, "being late to a family dinner isn't a good look for ya, pretty."

"well, excuse me for getting lost like three times." you say with a roll of your eyes. Naobito clears his throat, and Toji sighs.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who mumbles "thank you for the food." so everyone could start eating. He gets a little defensive when Naobito bombards you with questions, "I hope you are settling in well, but I'll get straight to business. When do you think you'll be ready to bear a child?"

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets ready to speak up for you but you quickly cut him off, "Not anytime soon, sir. No offense. I just met your nephew today. I did not come here to be bred like some dog. I came here to settle the dispute between our families." Everyone is shocked by your words. You just told off the former head of the clan..

Arrangedhusband!Toji is proud of you. "I agree with her." Naobito gives him a sour look before responding, "Toji, you need to get a better hold on your woman. She should have some manners."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets up from the table and hauls you over his shoulder. It's embarrassing to say the least but neither of you speak a word until you're far enough away.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who sets you down, a smirk prominent on his face, "That was so bad ass. No one's ever spoke to him that way."

"Really? Not even you? That's surprising, you seem like the rebellious type."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who really starts to grow on you. He follows you everywhere and he learns something new about you every day, as do you too. He never restricts your freedom and supports many of your actions.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who will even spar with you sometimes when you're looking to improve.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who feels his heart swell a little bit when you kiss him. He's never felt anything like this before, and he doesn't want to admit that he'll get used to it.

Arrangedhusband!Toji invites you to finally move into his own bedroom, since "we've been married for a few months now."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who likes seeing your stuff alongside his in his room.

Arrangedhusband!Toji feels happier than he has in years. All his family wanted to do was train him to perfection and treat 'worthless' women like shit. He didn't want any of that though. So he sees you as a blessing in disguise.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who itches to give you a baby after seeing how you are around his twin cousins. You're gentle, but you never forget to scold them when they get into trouble.

Arrangedhusband!Toji after your second year anniversary brings up the idea to you, "Not for the selfish reasons my uncle wants. Just for us. We could even live somewhere else." You two are sitting in your shared bedroom. His eyes tell no lies, "What do you mean by live somewhere else? I don't think it matters how far we go, baby. If Naobito catches wind of a potential Zenin heir he'll track us down."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who assures you he could take care of this situation, if you wanted to have a baby. He doesn't want his future child/children to have to go through the same abuse he went through.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who doesn't know that you're already a month or two pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who has one of his "friends" come get you to take you to your new home. "Toji, you should come with me. I don't think this is a good idea."

"I'll see you in a day or two. I love you, baby. Gojo, no funny business or I'll fuck you up." He threatens.

"Are you doubting me, my dear friend? I wouldn't let anything happen to your precious wife." Toji flip him off. You watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller until you can't see him anymore. (they're frenemies in this au)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immobilizes his uncle, which takes great effort. He doesn't come out fully unscathed. He's okay, though. He's doing it for his and your future.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who utters something to Naobito before leaving the Zenin clan, "I don't ever want to see your face again, you old geezer. Don't ever come looking for me or my wife, because the next time we meet, I'll kill you."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who knocks on the door of your new apartment and is relieved to see that you're just how he left you.

You gasp at his beat up stature and you sit him down to clean him up.

"They'll never bother us again." He mutters and he sees you smile a little bit.

"I'll miss the twins," you say with a little sigh. He moves his big hand to cup your face as you are trying to wipe the blood off of his, "You've taught them plenty. I'm sure they'll follow our path and make it out of the clan sooner or later."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is thrilled when you tell him you're pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji goes to extreme lengths to protect you and you have to remind him you can still accomplish things on your own.

Arrangedhusband!Toji Husband!Toji who has both your last names changed to Fushiguro to help hide his identity. You actually debated with him about this.

"Toji, you literally just chose the first name you saw on a site of Japanese last names. We need to put thought into it."

"Oh come on baby, you gotta admit Toji Fushiguro sounds better than Toji Zenin." He never fails to find a lazy way out of things.

Husband!Toji who lets a single tear fall from his eye when he sees you cradling your little boy.

"He looks just like you." You grumble playfully and his lips quirk up into a smirk, "Eh what can I say? He got the good genes."

You fight the urge to hit him with a pillow.

Husband!Toji tells the nurse the name you two agreed on for your son, "Megumi Fushiguro."

Husband!Toji who always gets scolded by you for using bad words around your son.

"Fuck!" Megumi yells when he colors outside of the line. Your head whips around so fast and Toji looks away.

"Gumi! Don't say that. That is a very bad word." You tell him. He tilts his head to the side, "Well Dad says them."

"Does he now? I'm pretty sure Dad knows he shouldn't say those words." After a minute Toji thinks he's in the clear so he turns his head back to see you glaring at him.

"I won't do it again." He hears you mumble 'liar.'

Husband!Toji who's mad that despite his looks, his son is a complete mama's boy. "Hey kid, wanna head to the park for a little 'while?"

"Can mama come?" Your husband grunts.

"Nah, it'll just be me and you. Father and son." He says with a grin hoping to bait him.

Megumi goes back to his video he's watching. With an uninterested tone he responds, "Oh, then I don't wanna go."

He rolls his eyes and walks away, "Well whatever."

Husband!Toji who decided he wants a do over, and gives you the proper wedding you deserve.

Husband!Toji who loves you and his son very much. He couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You are his blessing.

tagging @blkkizzat bc this is her man LMAO

[evergone]

Hypocrite

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: 18+ content (sex), swearing

Description: The reader is embarrassed by the hickies Theo left on her, but she's not one to speak.

Merlin, you were pissed. Or, maybe — maybe you were embarrassed. Afterall, there were purple and yellow bruises all over your breasts and along your collarbone and up the sides and back of your neck. Despite your best efforts, your makeup hadn’t covered them all, and the collar of your blouse kept smearing the foundation and exposing more of them to the entire student body. A student body who couldn’t stop talking about you.

“Trip down the stairs did you, Y/n?” Pansy teased.

“Our very own Slytherin slut,” Daphne laughed fondly.

“By the name of Salazar,” Blaise breathed heavily at the sight of them.

You could only sigh in frustration, your head in your palms, “Guys, stop, please. Everyone and their mothers are giving me shit about it, you don’t need to join in.”

You weren’t lying. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Snape had practically burnt a hole through your neck, and then, in Transfiguration, McGonagall had quietly asked if you needed to step out to touch up your makeup. The worst, however, was Potions with Slughorn. His opinion of you since the beginning of the year had been purely positive since your family were fairly wealthy and you achieved some of the highest grades in his class. When he saw the hickeys all over you, though, his bulbous nose had turned up in disgust and he made a most unpleasant grunt of disproval. You were sure you had made his blacklist.

“This warrants murder,” said Pansy.

“It does, doesn’t it?” You asked, “I am so fucking mad at him for this.”

Oh, but you could hardly speak.

You and Theo (your boyfriend and hickey-giver) both received invitations to a party that was held the night before, and despite knowing you had school the next day, you went. Once you were about ten drinks in, you were completed sloshed, and when you were completely sloshed, you got horny.

Though the crowd of party-goers stood between yourself and Theo, you could still see every part of him. He was just standing there, chatting with Blaise and Draco, a can of cheap beer held lazily in his right hand while his left was barely touching his hip. He was so, so hot. You bit your lip sexily then made your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the back of his white shirt, and leaving stains of red lipstick all over it.

“Hey, Y/n, baby,” he hummed, happy from all the drinks he’d downed in the three hours prior, “What’s up?”

“Teddyyy,” you mused and stared up at him as he looked over his shoulder at you, “I want sex.”

Blaise and Draco snickered and Theo shot them a glare. After that, you can imagine what happened. Lots of moaning, groaning, grunting, panting. Enough snogging to last you both a lifetime, but not really because there was no such thing as “enough snogging,” and love making that lasted well past the rise of the sun that peeked through the window to Theo’s dorm room and illuminated every gorgeous curve of your body.

While Theo was the kind of sexual partner to want to leave marks all over you — not because he was the jealous type, just the prideful type, he liked everyone to see that he’d won you — you were the kind of sexual partner who liked it rough. You liked to feel his dick more or less pounding against your womb, so close that it almost warranted a trip to Madame Pomfrey. You liked when he thrusted into you fast, but not sloppy, always obeying your comments of ‘faster, Theo’ and ‘honey, please, I need it faster.’ But he couldn’t obey too much, you were very particular about that. He had to make you feel good, but he still had to be in control. It was always best if he gave in to every third or fourth demand, so that you had to beg for it. But the best part about rough sex with Theo? Well, it was what made you such a hypocrite.

“Mate,” Draco gaped at Theo’s back in the locker rooms before quidditch practice, “Did you get into a fight with a werewolf or something?”

Theo frowned in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Draco motioned for Theo to move into view of the mirror and when he got a good look at his reflection he joined in the gaping. Long, red lines ran down his back like the British army at the Battle of Balaclava. He had become a canvas and you had painted him with your claws. He ought to have them clipped, Merlin’s beard.

The scratches were mostly up and down (go figure), but there were are couple that ran horizontally which Theo couldn’t place the origin of. You had torn him apart, you freak.

And that’s when you stormed into the locker room. Pucey had squealed, that was the first sign that you had entered. The second was the smart-ass warning that escaped Draco’s mouth ( “Look what the cat dragged in… or maybe she herself is the cat,” he said.

“She is the cat’s mother,” you responded, annoyed, and kicked him in the shin.

“My point still stands,” he laughed painfully).

Your hands were covering your eyes so as to not expose yourself to the privates of the entire Slytherin Quidditch team, and Theo thought you looked like a total dork in the cutest way. A pout had settled on your lips to make up for the fact that your frown was also hidden behind your hands.

“Theodore Nott!” You huffed and the locker room broke out into a chorus of ‘ooh’s, “Shut up, all of you — Theodore, look at what you’ve done to my neck.”

“I can’t really see behind your hands, lovey,” said Theo and you swore you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Use your imagination then, I’m sure you remember what you did to me last night — Oh, aren’t you all so mature,” you hissed as the boys erupted into laughter like little children.

You felt Theo’s hands settle on your hipbones as if they were arm rests. He pulled you in until your nose hit his chest and removed your hands from your face. So safe you were in his presence that you couldn’t see any of the other boys around you. With his big eyes that were more ocean-coloured than sky, he stared down at you, and flashed his brilliantly white grin.

“You aren’t much better, you know?” He said with a tone of question in his voice and continued to talk when he realised you didn’t know what he was talking about, “My back?”

He turned for you and upon seeing the mess you had evidently made on his back, you shut your mouth.

“Even?” Asked Theo.

“Even,” you nodded.

[luveline]

Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!

ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k

cw reader has a concussion

Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 

You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 

He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 

“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 

Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 

“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 

He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 

“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 

Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 

You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 

“Hi Hotch.” 

“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 

“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”

“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 

Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 

“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 

“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 

JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 

He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 

You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 

She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 

“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 

Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 

You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 

Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 

“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 

JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   

Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 

JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 

He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 

You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 

You nod into your rubbing. 

“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 

“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 

“Do you need help?” 

“Not for the fruit.” 

“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 

“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 

“You could be a doctor.” 

“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 

“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 

“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 

You stare up at him. “You want to?” 

“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“My boyfriend might not like it.” 

Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 

“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 

You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 

That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.

You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 

“Why not?” 

“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 

“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 

He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 

“Yes?” 

You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 

“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 

“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 

“Why?” 

“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 

You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 

Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 

“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 

“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 

“I’d like to go back.” 

“Home?” 

“For breakfast.” 

“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 

“What?” you ask. 

You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 

[yandere-wishes]

Alice in Marvel-land

𐙚Yandere! Deadpool (Wade Wilson) x Reader x Yandere Wolverine (Logan Howlett)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ In some worlds, you were Logan's little darling. In others, you were Wade's starry-eyed lover. But here in the void, there is only one of you and two of them.

⁀➷ GORE, yandere behavior, kidnapping, Deadpool being Deadpool.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ IDK, probs the Deadpool and Wolverine soundtrack

Logan feels the world slipping away.

Piece by piece, atom by atom.

In a blink, he's falling down darkness.

An endless rabbit hole.

What was the name of that fairy tale you liked so much?

The one with the girl who gets lost in splendor?

The dust is kicking up, framing the sunset portrait along the horizon.

The envoys are nearly home, this time they've brought someone back. The cage balls chime along the unsteady road. If you squint just far enough you can almost make out vibrant specks of red and yellow.

Strange, the void tends to wash out bright colors. Well, it tends to wash out just about everything.

You scrape your nails along the skeleton's sockets. Leave crescents in the decaying cartilage. "They're almost here" you call out awaiting Cassandra's next move. You watch dolefully as she's transfixed on a portal. The sparky thing unfurled like a fresh wound, strewing salt on persistent lacerations. She watches her brother, or well some variation of her brother. Surrounded by his new family, surrounded by those he loves. He's forgotten her, or maybe never even knew her. You think that the latter would hurt the most.

"Cassandra" Your voice rises in octave, this time getting her attention. "They're here".

"Coming" She sings, voice so chip it almost sounds like unshed tears. You send a final glare at the portal before it collapses on itself.

If you tried hard enough, maybe you could bring yourself to understand her pain. Those pesky notions of desperation for someone to love. But it

doesn't matter now everyone you've ever loved is dead anyway. And unlike Cassandra, you've long since given up on the childish dreams of being rescued by someone who would offer up love so freely.

"Maybe shut up now"

Logan's nerves are frying. Thin strings snapping with every syllable that leaves the red merc's mouth. He's starting to appreciate Stryker in a way he didn't even know he could. The man was a psychotic sadist but at least he knew when to sew someone's mouth shut. Maybe he can convince this Cassadra chick to do the same.

Logan's eyes are almost at 90 degrees of a roll when they stop. He stops, frozen. In the gaping mouth of the rotting skull, something all too familiar stands.

Or rather someone.

Someone he knew.

Someone he loved.

Your name tastes bitter on his tongue. All death and whisky.

Maybe cause it's been so long since the attack. Since he walked off for the night and left his family to die. Cause the last time he saw you, you were a mangled corpse laying in an open grave. Deadweight as he cradled you in his arms.

You walk closer. Face painted in too many shades of confusion.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Damn, he's started quoting that stupid book again.

"How do you know my name" You ask. You look just as beautiful as he remembers. Spine carved straight in pride with perfect lips, perfect eyes. His talons itch to glide across your soft skin, to feel you so intimately once more.

"LOOOGAN did you see what the bald chick just- HEY!!"

It takes too much effort to pull his gaze away. To stare at red and black and be reminded of cruel realities. But Wade has a tendency to be a persistent ache, some unwelcomed anchor to every problem he's ever had.

Only this time when he actually looks at him. Looks at the jittery body that's stilled abruptly. He can't help but be glad that he did. A bitter laugh bubbles in his throat. Maybe Wade's shut up for good this time.

He always knew you were special but this is truly a miracle.

"IT'S YOU!!"

Nope, didn't work. He knew he couldn't be that lucky.

Wade whispers your name, a forgotten prayer. Logan didn't even know the loudmouth knew how to pray. But he seems to almost soften when he sees you. That feral, cheeky killer, looks so so soft when he stares into your doe-eyes. Reaching out zealously to twirl a lock of your hair around his blood-soaked finger.

He can almost feel Wade choking on your essence, heart erratic, like a child finding a lost toy. He's drowning in ecstasy, and Logan is almost tempted to join him. You're here, a breath away. So close it's taking every ounce of self-control not to pull you to his chest and keep you locked between his arms until he finally dies too.

"Penunt look that's my girl!!"

"Your girl!?"

He had taken you for granted as he tends to do with most peaceful things. The realization had occurred a little too late. Right as he had been emptying a round into the target of the week's head.

He lands.

Arms high like an Olympian pleasing the crowd.

He wonders if he can make you cheer for him.

Clap and shout his name as he twirls around the mess he's made.

He wants to feel loved, although he'll never say it out loud. He's only ever been good with words when they're laced with sarcasm and profanity.

And maybe 'I love you' is just about the most obscene thing he can ever say to someone as sweet as you.

Wade plays the white rabbit, fluffy coat stained red from every kill. Tricking poor Alice into following him down cruel rabbit holes. Making you chase him through labyrinths then leaving you at every turn. He leads you to every kill, makes you watch as he dances in slaughter. He can even feel your eyes right now. Starlight slicing him open to quench vulgar interests.  

Alice always follows the rabbit.

He stalks closer, white eyes fixated on your deliciously bewildered expression. Precious thing caught in a warzone. He can almost taste you on his tongue, the sharp tip of a star slivering the inside of his mouth, soft hands painting crescent moons along the back of his neck. He needs to carve his essence across your lips, to pour the after-kill adrenaline into your soul. He needs you.

Only this time...

This time he'd been too distracted. So caught up in claiming you as his victory prize that he didn't notice the grizzled man clinging to life...

And a pistole.

The bullet punctures his shoulder. An afterthought.

But the lead keeps going.

Penetrating the air until it lands bunglingly between your eyes.

You fall into his arms.

Deadweight.

Did the white rabbit ever miss Alice?

Did he ever realize how truly special such a curious girl made him feel?

He doubts it.

Doubts that a stupid rodent would have better emotional stability than him.

He's been given a second chance. A whole plethora of them actually. He's been deemed holy, righteous. And aren't gifts of marvel bestowed upon the truly blessed? What better blessing than the sight of you standing amongst the sand and skulls?

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

He lets the blood trickle down his claws.

What else is there to do but dream of you?

It's the fourth day of his massacre and he's lost count of how many humans he's killed. Maybe cause after the first hundred the faces tend to blur.

He leaves your pleasants in between the rotting carcasses and broken glass. Only taking the torturous parts of you. The things that can hurt him. The sharp edges that he can slit his pulse point on, the vague memory of your glare before you cried. The soft skin of your neck between his jagged teeth.

Enough to keep the hate burning.

He wonders if the creatures of Wonderland wept after Alice left. He wonders if Wonderland lost its wonder.

But now you're standing here.

Alive.

And he wants so badly to remember the sweet taste of your lips. The soft push against his chapped lips as he swallows you whole. Even desperate rabbits can go a little feral. His eyes take in every breath, every scowl.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

Aliath skids forward, mystified in lightning and smoke. You feel your bones collapsing under the rugged man's, Logan's, vice grip. You thrash and scream trying to break free but he only barks out orders to his friend before they take off running.

"Your safe, don't worry we got you." There's a comedic cadence to every word Wade says. You can almost fool yourself into enjoying it if the two weren't actively attempting to defy Cassandra, to defy Aliath, to defy deities and absolutes. To ripe you away from the only semblance of opulence you've come to know.

"Let me go, you custome-wearing freaks." His gripe tenses. "Don't struggle so much, we said you're safe, now hold still" Logan's anger ripples through you. It's almost muscle memory to still, to obey.

Did you know him? Know them?

In some past life too out of reach?

The ground shutters to a jagged rhythm. You're flying up, escaping the misty horrors of the ground. Your head pounds with the force, air slapping across your body as you taste the cotton of the clouds between your teeth.

Is this how Alice felt as her head hit the roof?

Wade mutters about the stars and educated wishes. About people who live and matter. Logan slices through his thigh, the mercenary's optimism making his body ring with phantom pains.

No one matters.

And when they start to, they die.

There are cruel absolutes in this world. He's tasted them all. Let them slice his tongue and heart and danced to every tune they've sung. He rips his claws out and digs them into Wade's chest.

Again

And again.  

Wade savors the salty tang of blood inside his mouth.

Licks his teeth and runs his tongue over the gaping holes.

He's sitting in the front seat head rolled back.

High off the blood and adrenaline and the thought of having you so close.

"I take it all back, the Honda odysseys fucks hard"

Bones crack, interrupted mid-heal as Logan turns his head to glare. "Shut up" he rasps and Wade almost, almost, hears approval.

There's a low moan reverberating across the broken car. Late night sleepy mumble that's half 'I love you' and half 'I need you'. Neither one has heard it in such a long time.

"Finally awake sleeping beauty? Kinda surprised you could sleep through all of that" Wade shimmies to the back, only to be greeted by your foot smashing into his face, cracking his nose open, and sending a fresh wave of blood into his mouth. He pins your knee to the seat and wiggles himself between you. caging you with his elbows as he stares down at your pretty face. "Miss me, angel baby?"

"Wrong fairy tale" Logan turns around in his seat, claws out running them across your cheek "Please stop, just let me go" you've never begged before, never fallen so low. But these two things, mutants, mutates, or whatever they are, scare you. Reckless, suicidal, dangerous. You feel so helpless in their presence. Never knowing you're to be kissed or killed.

"You're as lovely as I remember" The melancholy colors him in a monochrome of sympathy. Here is a man who's gone through every horror and still gets out of bed. Or maybe he has to, maybe he can't quite die and can't quite reach heaven. So he gulps down his immortality with black coffee to at least pretend he's being buried six feet deep. "Even after all this time I still love you" You almost melt in his brown eyes. So lonely, so desperate.

Kill or kiss

You want him to do both. Want to kiss extinction on his lips while being impaled by the claws. Kill or kiss.

Both, both, both.

"You know~" Wade pushes himself up, "I think your dress should be red...and black. To match your favorite man."

"Who the hell said you were the favorite?" Wade leans forward, in a blink he's gripped Logan's wrist and lunged the Wolvarine's claws into your abdomen.

You writhe, the bones and metal feel almost heavenly inside of you. When he retracts the claws you moan out, it's too saccharine to hold back. Everything feels so much lighter, colorful. You feel your essence slipping out, gushing over the back seat.

Red waterfall, so pretty.

Dress stained red.

"Told ya so!"

Wade pulls you roughly by the shoulders and smashes his lips against yours. He's so cute, fickle Cheshire cat, tongue dancing across your mouth, slitting itself on your peaked teeth, and filling your mouth with thick red caterpillar smoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? You really are God's perfect idiot" Logan's anger is tangible, sweet, and bitter like hatter tea at midnight.

"S'okay Logan, it feels nice" Your words slur, slipping gauche from your tongue as you giggle profusely. You feel like Alice cracking open Wonderland's ribs, crawling inside, and smearing the wonder across your face.

"When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one" You've heard these words before, Alice's words. she's right. Your fairy tale is painted red with pretty, crazy, princes who think that slicing open a princess is easier than kissing her. You reach out for Logan, desperate for a kiss. "eat me" you mutter, and Logan's face morphs into pure terror "Wade what the hell have you done to her?".

"What? It's better this way trust me"

"I hate you"

Logan bends, meeting you halfway. He kisses you with all the wary of a dead man walking. All teeth and heart and bitter memories left to rot three lifetimes ago. He pushes himself between your bones, trying to carve out his ethos in your body. He'd burn the world so long as he gets to keep you.

You squeeze your thighs around Wade's muscular thighs and hips unlocking a gibby giggle from the man. His mask is half pulled up as he trails sloppy fervorous kisses across your neck and chest. The nostalgia slithering under your skin has you squirming, you've been through this all before. In a past life somewhere where storm monsters and voids don't exist. "Remember how good this feels?" Wade mumbles as his fingers dig into your puncture wounds, drawing slow, desperate moans from your puffy lips. You don't dare answer you don't know what would be worst admitting to liking the loudmouth ministrations or admitting there were other versions of you out there, other happy versions.

"Oh for hell's sake," Logan reclines the front seat and shuffles closer. Pulling down the back of your dress. His kisses are bite marks in disguise rabid and feral, the two things the man will never escape. His name rolls across your tongue, you let it slip in an airy moan. "No fair " Wade complains "I want you to say my name too." He pulls out his baby knife and etches the skin of your thighs. Scribbling doodles of stars and half hearts and the little symbol he wears on his belt. "W-wade" you gasp never knowing whether to scream in pain or giggle in bliss.

Logan laughs into your neck. You didn't even know he was capable of such a gentle thing. You bite his lip playfully. Dragging your fingers across his muscular arms. Your thumb pushes into the space between his knuckles asking for the claws. For the most macabre parts of him. You glide your tongue across the parish where flesh meets metal. Kissing the metal and bones and lapping at the blood. Watch curiously as he draws out a long airy sigh. "Good girl" he mumbles voice marred with ecstasy and you almost see the ghost of a smile smear across his pretty lips.

Wade's thumb gently rubs against your hips. Softly usering you into peace, tranquility. Your eyes get heavy, the car gets blurry. The grotesque realignment of their bones steering you into a deep, content sleep.

"Hey Peanut, you think Alice in Wonderland here would mind if we keep going? "  

"Shut it, moron "

"Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if only I knew how to begin.”

🎀Bonus

Deadpool: "Do you think the author's going to write about us again? Or is she planning to finally write that Dune fic she keeps talking about?

Wolverine: "I have no fucking idea what the hell you're even talking about.

🪐@yandere-romanticaa @bad4amficideas @sugarplumz100 @oscarissac2099 @facelessfionna @siphite @tocotuesday69 @linoleunm @mei-simp @shamelessdarkprince @gabriqllas @lovely-liliacs @shiroi-asashin17 @failinguniversity

[calypsocolada]

MISO SOUP AND SWEET POTATOES | g. tomioka

(click here for part two!)

synopsis: you're tasked with convinicing Giyu to join the Hashira Training author's note: hello. this was a days worth of writing. from 11 am to 3 am. i even wrote parts in my notepad at work. i really like how this turned out. i finished the hashira training arc last night and think that final episode might've been the best episode of anime i have actually ever seen. this is a whole ass story cw: slightly suggestive, major spoilers for rengoku and the hashira training arc, character death, gore, ANGST, fluff, happy ending, not proofread, fem reader, use of y/n a lil, lover!giyu, hardheaded!reader wc: 6.3k

click here for my masterlist

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“Would you mind talking to Giyu for me? So that Giyu, who tends to put himself into a negative frame of mind can start looking ahead again. Will you be persistent in your efforts to speak with him?” 

You stared at the letter. You reread it again and again and again. Your body still aches from the previous fight in the swordsmith village and you sort of hoped this was a hallucination. That you were still unconscious. But as your crow beside you squawked and you jumped you knew it was real. The paper crinkled beneath your hands. Kagaya’s handwriting is flawless and script. You followed the trail of his pen again. 

Would you mind speaking to Giyu for me?

You wondered if maybe this letter was accidentally sent to you. Even as your eyes wandered back up to the top of the paper that clearly said ‘Dear Y/n’. Even if it didn’t say your name there were no accidents with Kagaya. 

But… but there had to be. Out of everyone, all the Hashira that were certainly closer to Giyu. But you, the newest Hashira, had been chosen to speak with him? In what world did that make any sense? You barely knew the guy. Granted he had been the reason you joined the corp originally but he’d dodged your very presence the best he could ever since. 

Your village had been attacked about four years ago. Same old story for a lot of people victimized by demons. There was never a happy ending with those monsters involved. Always blood. Always loss. It was no different for you. Half of your family was slaughtered before you could even rouse yourself from sleep. But when you did all you saw was the inkblots of blood on your white walls, the color shining from being hit by the moonlight. You remembered sitting up and feeling numb as you heard someone screaming. The scream that never left you. Something you’d never be able to ingest for as long as you lived. 

When you got to your feet your mother had busted into your room. She looked pale, blood gushing from beneath her white nightgown. She scooped you up and kissed your head as she stuffed you into the closet. She shushed your cry’s and told you not to come out until the sun shone beneath the crack in the door. She gave you one last kiss. You didn’t know then it was the last. You reached for her but she pushed your hands back, silently shook her head then pressed the door closed. 

You’d always been a good kid. You stayed put exactly as you’d been told. Even as you heard more screams. Even as it went quiet. 

Only until that sun shone beneath your door did you move. You busted out of that closet. Your mother’s name is the first thing on your lips but she wasn’t the first person you saw. The scene in your house was horrific to say the least. The sights of the people you loved in multiple torn pieces is something that comes back to you in flashes when you fight demons. 

It spurs you on to do exactly what they did to your family back to them. To tear them to shreds. 

In the middle of it all was a boy. He was sitting so still that you didn’t even notice him amongst the slaughter. Your living room was still dark, dark enough that it kept this monster safe as it rose to its full height. No longer a boy but a creature from your deepest darkest nightmares. It had your family’s blood on its mouth as it smiled a wickedly devilish smile. 

“Hmm. Missed one.” It spoke in a gravelly tone as it swallowed whatever it was chewing on. You could guess what. You stepped back into your mother’s blood… or maybe your father’s? The blood, thick beneath your foot slid out from underneath you and you crashed into their bodies, something sharp sticking into your side as you gasped in sudden pain. Your mother’s hand still gripped a knife that had now lodged itself in your thigh. The demon only laughed. “Clumsy one aren’t you. Mother wasted her time hiding something so useless.” He growled, approaching with a predatory gleam in his dark eyes. 

When he pounced towards you something momentary took hold over you. You, a measly twelve years old, ripped that knife from your own leg and thrusted it into the demon's eye. The creature roared like nothing you’d heard before as it stumbled back away from you. You just blinked as you watched it, numbness contending with your fear. The creature yanked the knife out and tossed it angrily to the side. It growled, fuming as it charged back at you. You raised your hands to defend yourself, screwing your eyes shut. You heard the whoosh of something cutting through the air itself and when you opened your eyes the creature had halted its assault. It locked eyes with you moments before its head toppled right off its shoulder. You stared in abject horror as the creature's body started to burn a blood red color and you saw a figure behind it. You were as still as a statue as the figure behind  it took shape. 

The shape of a boy, he couldn’t have been much older than you. Eyes an indigo blue, dark and almost unfeeling as they met yours. You watched as he gave a quick swipe of his sword to rid it of the demons burning blood as he sheathed it back at his side. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice young like yours. You weren’t hurt. Somehow. And you couldn’t open your mouth to answer him, not with your body still on top of your parents. You just stared at him, even as your eyesight got cloudy and stinging tears slid down your cheeks. 

The boy walked towards you and remained still, unable to move as he bent down in front of you. He reached and clumsily brushed the tears from your face. It was as if he knew you wouldn’t part your lips to speak because wordlessly he, with immaculate ease, picked you up off the corpses and carried you out of the house. You moved for the first time in minutes as your head tilted to look back towards your family. 

“Eyes on me.” He said and sure enough your eyes snapped to him. To take in his face. Eyes endlessly dark blue as they stared forwards. He had to have been your age, maybe a year older. He had the shape of a young face, with full cheeks and raven black hair to the nape of his neck. You couldn’t look away, it had nothing to do with his looks but everything to do with his command. 

You were a good kid. When someone told you to do something you did it. Years later you would come to thank Giyu for that, for commanding you to look at him instead of glancing back at what remained of your family.

Everything after that was just sort of a blur. You stayed some place warm, a faint fire flickering and that boy with the sword stayed with you until some men in black uniforms found you. You remember not being able to walk, the shock and grief of the night not letting you. You’d held onto your saviors shirt, your fist balled. He let you, in fact he even came along with you and the men in black and when they asked you to let go you blinked at them. You hadn’t even noticed you were still holding on. You let go in an instant. Your hand is sore from how tightly you’d been clenching. The men in black’s hands were on your shoulders guiding you away and when you looked back your voice came to you. 

“What’s your name?” You asked, everything paused for you so you could hear his answer. 

“Giyu.” He answered. You put a name to his face. You parted your lips to thank him but nothing came out again. You couldn’t say thanks. Not when you were the only breathing because you cowardly hid in the closet. You felt you didn’t deserve to be thankful. You met his eyes again and something, somehow, told you he understood. He gave you the softest nod of his head and when he turned to leave you felt your heart drop. Like something had bonded you to this boy. But you turned and let yourself be whisked away. 

A year later you worked for the very same people as Giyu had. You were given a sword and trained thoroughly by a man with red and orange hair. You weren’t ever good with names but the fire in him fueled the fire in you. Which is why you eagerly learned that breathing style and trudged up that mountain to crush the selection test. 

A few years after that you ran into Giyu. You were sent on a mission to help the Water Hashira. You’d never met any other Hashira besides Rengoku so you were sort of apprehensive. You never liked meeting new people. All those years spent with Rengoku and his fiery personality you wished at least some of it had rubbed off on you but… you were still demure and quiet, quick to anger and prone to disappearing. You liked your alone time. You had all but begged Rengoku to let you go with him in his mission, apparently some demon had infested a train, that sounded far more exhilarating than helping some water Hashira you didn’t know. Rengoku did what he always did when you were disappointed. He gave you a sort of unwanted hug, though secretly you wanted and needed it, and ruffled your hair. 

“We’ll see each other in two weeks. Next mission is yours and mine.” He said and then he was gone and you were boarding a train going the opposite way. 

When you arrived, stepping off the train your eyes met the same indigo blue eyes from so many years ago. When you were both kids. Now both adults. You stopped where you stood, unable to walk any closer as everything fled back. Stuff you had managed to keep down deep for so many years. Memories you wanted to erase. All that time wasted and drudged back up in mere seconds. Giyu may have had those same eyes but he was grown now. His hair longer and tied back, his face had lost that boyish roundness. He looked tall and lean. Well at least taller than you. For a moment he looked just as surprised as you but he smoothed over that emotion into something practiced. 

“It’s you.” He said, his voice deep and soft. You swallowed, your hand resting on your sword. 

“You’re the water Hashira?” You asked and he nodded his head as the train behind you dinged and slowly pulled out of the stop, the wind brushing your hair over your shoulders. 

“You’re Rengoku’s tsuguko?” At that you nodded your head back at him. His eyes trailed to your sword, to your haori, and old one Rengoku had lent you. His eyes lingered on that fiery pattern.  

“I never learned your name.” He said and then his eyes flicked to yours. You swallowed dryly, you weren’t sure why he made you so nervous, why your heart was beating so fast. You wondered if he was a part of a life you wanted to die off. The scared girl in the closet was far from who you were now. Rengoku never got to meet that scared girl. No one had. Except Giyu. You told him your name and he repeated it, as if feeling how it felt on his own lips. Your heart skipped a traitorous beat at the way he spoke your name. It felt different coming from him. You grabbed ahold of yourself.

“Shall we?”

But your mission with Giyu was cut off with the sudden death of Rengoku. You and Giyu hadn’t made it back to the village before both of your crows had delivered the news. You still remembered everything about that moment. Giyu walking beside you, your haori catching a gust of wind, cold wind, as if winter was coming. You could replay your footsteps on the dirt road. The distant flapping of wings growing closer and closer and then stopping as they landed. Your initial glance over at the water Hashira before the delivering of the news. The ripple before the crack in your soul. Giyu had been present for the worst two days of your life. Something about losing someone again that felt like family irrevocably broke something in you all over again. This pain you felt before today you wondered for years if it would last. Rengoku had healed some of it. And begrudgingly and foolishly you let him in. But now you have your answer. This pain would last forever. You couldn’t even cry, you just stared blankly ahead, just as you had in your dark house wrecked with the stench of blood. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder, you didn’t want to look at him.

“Go, I’ll finish the mission.” He said, his voice different, there was a coldness before but now only warmth. You still didn’t look at him as you turned to leave.

“Be careful.” You choked out before taking off in a run back towards the train station. 

You’d seen Giyu a few times after that but only in passing, never long enough to start up a proper conversation though both of you hated talking. You never let anyone else in after that. You took up the position of Fire Hashira and the only thing fiery about you was your utter hatred for demons. The other Hashira were sort of weary of you and that kept them at a distance. You only talked when absolutely needed and was the first to leave after Hashira meetings. You liked that distance. You’d do anything to keep it. There was only so much heartbreak and loss you could take. You were at your limit. You didn’t have room for anyone in your scabbard dying heart. 

That’s why receiving that letter from Kagaya had caught you so off guard. He of all people knew who you were and still he asked you for a favor. Probably a dying wish. He had shown you kindness and since it was the only thing he’d ever asked you for, reluctantly, you found yourself at the front of Giyu’s home. It was cold out as your knuckles rapped against the wooden door. You waited, stepped back and looked off to the side, expecting to see Kagaya’s crow lingering around somewhere to report back to him. A minute had passed as you gave one more series of knocks. Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t home. You sighed and turned to leave just as the wooden door clicked and was pulled open. When you turned back those striking blue eyes met yours. There was skepticism on his face as you swallowed. That feeling that met you every time you saw Giyu never seemed to fade. That persistent speeding of your heart. That faltering of words. All highly inconvenient.

“Y/n?” Giyu spoke first, pulling the door open just a tad more. He was in casual clothing, he looked as though he may have just woken up.

“Giyu. I never knew you lived in this part of town.” You lied. You knew. 

“It’s quiet.”

“I can see.” The lack of noise was slightly unsettling, only the rustling of leaves in the wind could be heard. You swallowed. “May I come in?” Your voice was slightly strained and didn’t at all sound like you wanted to do that but to your detriment Giyu moved to the side. Giyu’s home was a reflection of himself. It was clean, almost sterile, with dark walnut furnishings and dark curtains. He really must’ve been sleeping because he reaches over and flicks on a few lanterns, casting an orange glow to his living room. 

“I wasn’t expecting company,” He says over his shoulder and you almost agree.

“Unwanted?” You ask and when he shakes his head ‘no’ you relax sort of. 

“I’ll make us some food. Did you travel long?” He asks as he leads you towards the kitchen. You take a seat at the kitchen island and watch him get to work. 

“Yeah. Long train ride.” You answer as Giyu nods his head. You know he’s probably dying to know why you’re here but you're sure if you told him things would turn sour. You watched Giyu gather ingredients and supplies, he was very orderly about things, kept things nice and clean as he prepared dinner for you both. You had a lot of experience cooking growing up with Rengoku, that man could eat and eat. Just at the thought you felt a pang and forced your face not to show it.

“Do you need help?” 

“That’s alright, you rest.” Giyu intones, setting a cup in front of you as he fills it with hot black tea. You thank him, wrapping your hands around the warm mug. You stare down into the tea for a moment and realize you had no idea how to go about this little favor Kagaya had asked of you. You barely spoke with anyone, you were well out of practice. How genuine would this ask even be coming from you? 

“How’re you?” You asked, not letting yourself be embarrassed by your lack of social skills. Giyu flicks on the stove.

“Do you really want to know?” He asked over his shoulder and stupidly, because he wasn’t even looking at you, you nodded your head before clearing your throat and speaking.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” You hoped that didn’t come out as sharp as it sounded.

“I’m… well. Thank you for asking.” Giyu answered, his monotone answer at war with the words he spoke. He sounded anything but well. You remembered the last Hashira meeting. You remembered Giyu’s back turned as he said, “I’m not like the rest of you.” Unlike Sanemi you didn’t feel angry at that. In fact you knew how that felt. To feel unwelcomed and wanting it to stay that way. 

“If you’re well then I’m well.” You said and when Giyu turned, his eyes meeting yours, you felt a flash of how you saw him that first time. You blinked it away as he turned back.

“I didn’t think… you of all the Hashira’s would be the first to visit.” Giyu said, turning back to the stove. You stared at the back of his head. 

“Me neither.” You said with a soft sigh. “But here I am.”

“Here you are.” He says, his voice soft again. It did funny things to you. Funny things that only he could elicit. It was frustrating.

“Giyu…” You trailed off, unsure how to broach the subject. “Did something happen? To make you not want to help out with the Hashira training?” Giyu was quiet for a long moment. You watched him stir some stuff into the pan and for a moment you thought he hadn’t heard you. 

“Can we not… talk about that?” He asks almost kindly. But that’s all you needed to talk about. If you didn’t stay on topic you’d be doing Kagaya a disservice, though could you count that as a hardy first try?

“Of course.” You answered, fiddling with your hands. You’d left your sword back at the inn you were staying at and wished you’d had it just so you could fiddle with something else. “Though, I apologize but, I almost wish I could sit it out too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Training a bunch of snot nosed kids sounds like hell to me.” You spoke truthfully and watched Giyu;s shoulders rise and fall quickly, almost like he was maybe laughing, but he still wasn't facing you so you wouldn’t know.

“Not a fan?”

“I had my fill with the three from the swordsmith village.” Tanjiro, his little demon sister, Nezuko and Sanemi’s little brother Genya. All a handful. But very capable in a fight. 

“How’re your wounds? I… never got to ask.” Giyu says as he reaches for some seasoning, finally turning to the side to face you.

“Scarring up.” You said and Giyu nodded his head, his eyes drifting to the scar on your cheek.

“Two upper ranks. If anyone could handle them I knew it’d be you.” He says with a sort of gleam in his eye. 

“Can’t take the credit. That red head kid killed one of ‘em while MItsuri and I held off its body. Muichiro took one by himself.” You recounted, the fight honestly felt like it would never end.

“You and Kanroji worked together?”

“Surprising, right?”

“Not at all.” Giyu answers. “You two are very alike.”

“In what way?” You almost laughed at that statement. 

“Strong, fierce, never quit.”

“I think we all have that in common.” You say and Giyu gets this look in his eyes as he turns back away. You feel as though you lost some ground. You chew the inside of your lip. Clearly Giyu doesn’t feel as though he had that in common with you. Something ignited in you. A need to say something on your mind. “Giyu… I-- I never thanked you.”

“Thanked me?”

“I’ve… wrestled with it for a long time. How to… go about it. Kyojuro used to tell me to practice with all the people we met. To thank them for stupid things, like holding the door open or bringing me food. Just so the words didn’t feel so foreign. But I never really felt thankful for you saving me. I lived because my whole family died. Because I hid.” You take in a shaky breath. You’d never talked about this stuff out loud, not even with Rengoku. You felt embarrassed suddenly, shaking your head, you forced out a choked laugh. “Nevermind. I don’t know what I’m saying.” You felt his eyes on you but you forced yourself to keep looking down at your warm tea. As long as you stayed like this maybe he’d move the conversation along to something else. You cursed yourself for ruining the mood, if there even was one to begin with.

“You don’t have to stop. I… I would like to know more about you. I… always have.” Your eyes shot to his like a gun hitting its mark. Those dark eyes, you could swim in them. Get lost in them. Those eyes… could make you feel something. That made you shoot to your feet, your tea spilling over. Giyu didn’t startle, he just turned to grab a rag but when he turned back you were halfway to the front door. He dropped the towel on the table. “W-wait, Y/N,” He called to you but when he rounded into the living room the front door slammed closed. 

You fumbled outside, steps clumsy as you started to run and run. You didn’t want to think about it. You had to get away, as far as those legs of yours could take you. You could run to the next town over, retrieve your sword in the morning and never speak to the water hashira again. Never again. Favor be damned. What you felt was dangerous. That kind of thing left you the hollow husk you were today. You preferred this safe loneliness. You couldn’t ever be hurt again. You stopped for a moment, the cold air tough to run in as you huffed and puffed out condensation clouds.

“You’re fast.” You hadn’t even heard his approach. You didn’t turn, just swallowed.

“I- realized I have something to do in the morning. Can’t stay out late.”

“Come back, Y/n. Please.” His voice was doing that soft thing you body liked so much. You clenched your jaw, if you could stab your heart you would.

“Can’t.”

“Why? And… tell me the truth.” You heard him walk a bit closer. Please, you thought, just go back home.

“Maybe you’re right. What you said at the last meeting, that you’re not like us other Hashira. Maybe I just realized it.” You wanted to hurt him, it was a common defense you used quite often. 

“And?”

“And I’m wasting my time speaking with someone who’d rather sit on the sidelines.” You spat over your shoulder. That’ll do it, you thought, that’ll get him to leave. It was quiet, heartbreakingly quiet and you were too much of a coward to see the hurt you caused so you started to walk away towards your inn.

“I… don’t care if you hate me.” You stopped walking instantly and turned, Giyu looked stricken, as if you slapped him. You regretted turning around. “You can hate me all you want. Yell at me, hit me, whatever you want to do. But I need you to know… you might regret me saving you but I have never regretted saving you…”

“Giyu,”

“Please… let me.” He straightened slightly. “I… am amazed by you.” His words hit you like the sharpest sting. Like a knife in the gut that slowly twists. “You’re incredible, nothing ever could rival you. You… lost so many yet you fight with purpose. I could never be like you.” You tense your jaw, eyes sharp. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You take a step towards him. “I am hateful. I don’t have a purpose to fight anymore I just do it because it needs to be done. You don’t know me at all.”

“Maybe I don’t. But… I want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m not succinct.” Giyu sighs, as if tired. “I just do.” Want to know you. You stared at him and that traitorous heart of yours, that naive heart did another flip. You shook your head. 

“You don’t. No one does.”

“Rengoku did.” Your eyes lit like fire, some heat filling your soul. You wanted to yell at him for saying his name. For bringing him into this. But you’d done it first. 

“He’s dead. They all are. My whole family. I don’t want to know you. I don’t want you to know me. I want you to go back home and let me be.” 

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Maybe for the same reason your eyes find mine every time we're in the same room.” Giyu took a step closer, you watched him move as though he was going to strike you down. LIke he was going for a killing blow.

“I… I don’t do that.” The lie was so obvious to your ears it almost made you cringe outwardly. 

“I’m not trying to embarrass you because… I look for you in every room. I… I lied to you the second time we saw each other so many years ago I… I knew you were Rengoku’s tsuguko because he’d written to me. He… sensed something and told me he was sending you to me for that mission. I was so… so damn nervous to see you again after so many years. So curious about how you were faring and I couldn’t even get more than fifteen words out. And when Rengoku passed I would write Kagaya, ask him how you were because I was too much of a coward to ask you myself.” That’s why Kagaya wrote to you. Your heart still beat, skipped a beat then beat again. Everything was falling into place. Why Rengoku had sent you away when you had always gone on his missions with him. The scheming man was playing matchmaker. And even Kagaya was playing the same damn game. 

“Don’t say anything else, Giyu. Please.”

“I won’t speak the rest of the night if you come back. You can even leave at first light. Just please… let me feed you and give you a place to sleep.”

“My inn isn’t too far.”

“Please.” The emotion in his voice was staggering. It was a plea. It had sounded like something he needed even more than breathing. You stared at him. If you went with him now that would be the very first crack in your walls. You never gave an inch away since Rengoku died and if you started now everything would crumble.

“No. I’m going back to my inn.”

“I’ll join the hashira training.” He said and your lips parted in silent surprise. “That’s why you came tonight wasn’t it? You’d never do it alone so Kagaya must’ve written to you? Am I right?” Your face must’ve given away the answer because Giyu continued and you realized right here and now this is the most you two have ever talked. An hour together had more dialogue than almost eight years. And this was why you kept your distance all these years. Because if anyone knew you it was Giyu, he’d seen you at your lowest yet here he was… begging you to stay for just a few hours. “Come back and I’ll join. You can consider your favor a success.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’d do it for you.”

“Be serious.” You growled and Giyu took another step forward. You hadn’t noticed him getting so close but suddenly he was close enough to touch. You stepped back. 

“Come back. Please.”

“You’re annoyingly persistent.”

“I just want you safe. That’s all.”

“You already saved me once. That’s enough.” You condemned with a shake of your head. Giyu looked doubtful for a moment, unsure of how to convince you to come back. But if you made good on Kaguya's favor this could be the end of it. “I’ll come back.” His eyes shot up to yours. “But I’m gone first light.” He nodded his head at that. 

Giyu finished up dinner as you set the table. It was quiet between you two after everything. Giyu had all but confessed the real depth of his feelings but you had an idea and it wasn’t something you’d let yourself dwell on. That idea was something close to hope. Something close to the degree of happiness. That’s not something you wanted. Not something you’d let yourself have. If there was one thing you were truly good at, it was self destruction. 

You took your seat as Giyu placed down the food. Miso soup with sweet potatoes. You stared at it, stricken. Rengoku’s favorite meal. 

“Y/n? Are you alright?” 

“Seriously? That was at least your sixth bowl.” You huffed as Rengoku smirked as he pulled the bowl to his lips, slurping down the rest of its contents. He placed it down and reached for the ladle again. You watched him in amused surprise as he dulled out a seventh bowl. “You’re overgorging yourself.”

“It’s too good. Who taught you to cook, kid?” 

“You did.” You sighed with an eyeroll as Rengoku laughed heartily.

“Ah! That’s right I did.”

You blinked a few times and suddenly your face felt wet. You pressed a hand to your cheek. You hadn’t cried since losing your parents. You thought you were incapable, that you had exhausted your tear ducts at night. You hadn’t cried when you lost Rengoku and you always felt inhuman because of it. You looked across the table and met Giyu’s wide eyed stare, he looked startled at your tears.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and you couldn’t stop the tears now. They fell so fluidly, so overwhelmingly. You tried to apologize but your words just came out in stuttered croaks in your throat. Giyu stood so fast he knocked his chair over as he crossed to the other side of the table. He dropped to his knees beside you and pulled you to him. Rengoku hugged you a lot. You’d say it was unwanted but it was something you needed. Giyu’s arms around you felt different. He hugged you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair as you fell prey to your emotions. But startlingly so… it felt nice. Bottling things up for so long had very nearly ended you and you might’ve been able to really shut off your humanity if it hadn't been for that damned letter. If it hadn't been for Rengoku’s unending kindness. If it hadn't been for Giyu’s persistence. You could’ve nearly ended up as black hearted as the demon that flipped your life upside down. That was the most startling revelation of them all.

Giyu hugged you tight as you fell to pieces. He didn’t let go, never even loosened his arms a little bit around you. He just held you and let you cry and cry. It should’ve been embarrassing but as he pulled your hair back out of your face and wiped your wet cheeks there wasn’t an ounce of that annoying sympathy in his eyes. Just utter understanding. And this was the most inopportune time, seeing as your eyes were probably bloodshot, nose probably running like crazy, but without thinking you sucked in a ragged breath and then pressed your mouth to his.

Giyu made a sound low in his throat, you felt his arms around you tighten, drawing you in, deepening the kiss. This wasn’t something you knew of. Your parent’s pecked each other’s lips and cheeks but this… no this was something for behind closed doors. For just you two. That fire that pooled in your stomach upon seeing Giyu had heightened at least tenfold when he pulled you into his lap. Your bodies pressed against one anothers, no room, not even a milimeter’s length of space. He kissed you softly, but you kissed him back hard. That chasm of loneliness in you had reached its peak and you wanted it gone. He gently ran his hand through your hair and you balled your fist in his shirt. He gently lowered you back and kissed you against the hardwood flooring of his kitchen. 

You shoved your chair away from you both and hooked your legs around his hips. He made another sound and you found that you liked it so you tightened your hold and slid your hand in his hair. That awarded you another sound, like a whimper. When he pulled back for air you yanked him by the hair back to your lips. Fuck air. You didn’t need that. You’d rather breathe him in. He whimpered again, his hips mindlessly moving, sending a wave of heat through you and this time it was your turn to groan. He hooked an arm around your back and with strength and swiftness, he hoisted you up off the floor without even breaking the kiss. You gasped in surprise and he walked you through the hallway. Kissing you against the wall and the door and the dresser before he finally made it to his bed. 

You two fell into the softness of his covers, his body trapping you beneath him. He trailed his lips away from yours and whimpered at the loss of contact. But he kissed both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and to your jaw. He paid extra attention to your neck before kissing your collar bones. He kissed his way back down your body. Kissing your scars that had once been an eyesore to you. Ever so gently tracing some absentmindedly with his other hand. Whatever growing between you two was something to be earned. Sure you loved Giyu but you needed more time with him. You spent eight years barely speaking. You could tell Giyu felt that too because when his lips met yours again and pulled back you both blinked tiredly at one another. 

Astonishingly you watched the softest of smiles spread across Giyu’s face. You wanted to catalog this moment forever. To remember it till the day you died. Giyu pressed one last kiss to your forehead and then dropped beside you on the bed. He pulled you to him, your back pressed to his front. Your legs tangled as his hand reached across you and intertwined with yours. You blushed but settled against him. The dregs of sleep calling for you. You two didn’t need to speak another word.  

You watched the first light roll in through Giyu’s curtains. It shone like blades across his room. Giyu softly snored beside you, arms still around your body. You’d never kissed a single soul before but you knew what a kiss meant. You knew whenever your dad kissed your mom or the other way around that it was an unspoken way to say I love you. But it was a different kind of love your parents shared. You loved your family. You loved Rengoku. 

But you loved Giyu. 

You loved him as you clamped your fist in his shirt the night he saved you. You loved him when you stepped off that train. You loved him at every hashira meeting and every stolen glance. You loved him as you read Kagaya’s letter and loved him when he opened the door. As he chased you down in the street and begged you to come back to his home. So many problems never go away, some pain felt as though it would last forever and you never thought you could break through. You never thought you could just grow around it, because nothing was more persistent than a plant in the presence of the sun. You never told Rengoku you loved him, never told him how much he meant to you and that his kindness never fell to deaf ears. You had spent eight years loving Giyu and not letting yourself know it.

And all it took was some miso soup and sweet potatoes.