#our mother is coming back to stay with us too *larger sigh*

[whoslai]

seventy two hours - l. heeseung 📓🧑🏻‍🎓

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

↣ lee heeseung x fem!reader (both are 18)

↣ it’s the summer after high school; heeseung has been in love with his childhood friend, y/n. despite his efforts to make her see how he feels, she remains oblivious. with only three days left before they both go off to college, he must find a way to win her heart before it's too late. will he succeed, or will he have to let go of his love and move on?

↣ warnings: MDNI! making out, cunnilingus, fingering, jerking off, voyeurism, unprotected sex, overstimulation, love confessions, creampie, explicit sex, teasing, dirty talk, body marking, & more.

↣ genre: fluff, angst, smut, slice of life au

↣ wc: 4.1k

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

“lee heeseung,” you called, poking your head out of your window to look down at the sweaty boy who just so happened to live next door to you. he’d been bouncing a basketball in his driveway all night and it was driving you nuts!

to your incredulity, heeseung cocked his head to look up at you, smiling from ear to ear as he saw you. “y/n.” he sighed, holding his basketball to his chest. “have you been standing there the whole time?”

“no! unlike you, i’m trying to get some sleep. it’s 2 in the morning and you’ve been bouncing that ball since 7.” you whined, leaning against the window seal as you rubbed your sleepy eyes.

“oh? so you’re keeping track of how long i’ve been out here..?” he smugly remarked, dropping the ball into his yard as he wiped sweat from his forehead. “do i interest you that much, y/n?”

“heeseung.” you glared at him, “please let me sleep.”

he smiled, “you should come out here with me. i can show you how to shoot a 3 pointer.”

shaking your head, you closed your window. you huffed as you laid back in your bed, tiredly sighing as you heard him pick his ball up and bounce it against the pavement again. another day, another night spent trying to drown out heeseung.

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

your next few days were spent dorm shopping with your mother; you’d been accepted into northwestern university to study journalism on a full scholarship. you truly were excited to start a new chapter of your life and explore yourself and the environment around you.

you’d be even happier if you didn’t have a little baby whining in your ear every day about the fact that you were moving across the country. of course, living next to heeseung meant you two were very close, almost too close. it got to the point of him being immensely comfortable with complaining about how it was “odd” if you to look forward to moving away from everyone you’ve ever known.

while yes, moving from a small town in virginia to a larger city in illinois would take some time getting used to, but that didn’t mean it would justify you being fearful. what was there to be afraid of? people move all the time, it wasn’t as though you’d be the first person to leave family for college. heeseung was just being dramatic, per usual.

“you really should just stay here, i don’t see why you can’t just go to school online.” heeseung shrugged, holding his knees to his chest as he sat on your bed, watching you take down the polaroids of you and friends from your walk to pack away for your dorm.

you smiled, shaking your head at him. “heeseung, you’re acting like i’m not going to come back on breaks. it’s not my fault you chose to stay here for college.”

“you’re right, i DID choose to stay here. wanna know why?” he asked.

you propped your hand on your hip and raised your eyebrow at him. “i know you want to tell me, so just go ahead and say it.”

“because…” he trailed off, anxiously biting his lip as he began again. “because everything i’ll ever need is here, virginia is my home; our home. why would you leave all this behind when everything you need is right here?”

you shrugged, “i don’t see what’s here in virginia that i can’t find in illinois. my parents plan to travel while i’m gone so there’s not much keeping me here.”

heeseung pouted. “ouch.”

“aw.” you laughed, “you know im going to miss you when i leave. how could i forget you and that stupid basketball you keep me awake with…”

heeseung smiled a bit, but you could tell there was some sadness behind it. “maybe we could play together?”

“hmmm…” you hummed. “we could, but i’d rather do something else. why don’t we do like a sleepover and binge on a bunch of movies? pull an all nighter or something.”

“a sleepover?” heeseung asked, sitting up and licking his lips. “as in…like me sleeping over here or…you sleeping at my house?”

“either. it doesn’t matter to me.” you smiled, grabbing some tape to close the box of pictures and placed it to the side. “but, you and i both know how strict my mom is about you being over. she would make you sleep on the couch downstairs.”

he slowly nodded, “true…”

“so we should probably just go to your place, yeah?” you asked him, glancing back at him. “i’m assuming you want me in the same bed as you, so we’re better off just doing it over at yours.”

he scoffed, “what?! who says i want you to sleep in my bed?”

“me.” you smiled, tossing the box off to the side. “like helloooo, look at me. who wouldn’t want me to sleep in their bed?”

heeseung married his eyes at you. “you are so…”

“i’m kidding~” you laughed, taking a seat at your desk. “i’d only get in your bed anyway.”

“wait really?” heeseung asked you, his ears perking up. “why only mine?”

“because you’re my bestie. now, go clean your room. i’ll be over in a few hours.” you told him, spinning around to organize the papers on your desk.

he laughed a bit before kicking the back of your seat as he made his way out.

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

a few hours after heeseung had left, you’d found yourself drying your hair after taking a quick shower. you slipped on some shorts and a tee whilst grabbing your bag full of sleepover essentials.

making your way over to his house, you caught sight of his bedroom light being on and reflecting a shadow; a figure all too similar to his own. squinting your eyes up at him, you began to make sense of what you were seeing.

he stood near the window, head lowered while his arm appeared to repeatedly move in a swift motion….was he jerking off?

your heart skipped a beat when his head fell back and you looked down at the ground, contemplating whether or not you could simply walk in and face him after watching his shadow through his bedroom window.

biting your lip, you slowly turned to walk back to your house, his front door opened.

“y/n!!” his mothers voice rang in your ears from behind. you quickly turned back, being met by his mother waving for you to come. “i saw you standing out here! come on in, heeseung told me you were sleeping over…?”

you nodded, walking over to her. “um yeah! that’s um…that’s the plan.”

she closed the door behind you as you stepped in and slipped your shoes off. “well, that’s cute. i’m happy to see you two spend more and more time together, especially with you leaving in a few days.” she sighed, clasping her hands together. “i’ve always adored your friendship.”

“ahhh..” you smiled, nodding your head. “yeah, just a few more days.”

she frowned, “we’re all going to miss you very much!”

“i’ll come back and visit!” you exclaimed. she smiled, patting your shoulder as she signaled for the stairs.

“heeseung is up in his room. i’m not quite sure what he’s doing but he’s expecting you so just feel free to knock. i’ve got food in the kitchen and his father is down in the basement. if you guys need anything, just let me know. okay?”

“yes ma’am, and thank you!” you nodded at her, hurrying up the stairs.

as you stood in front of his closed bedroom door, you inhaled a deep breath, nervous to step in.

after standing there for a while, you brought your hand up to the door and knocked. “hey, heeseung. it’s me.”

you waited a while, hearing him reply, “kay, one sec…”

you rested your back against the wall opposite of his door, placing your hand over your chest as your heart rate began to increase. you wondered if you truly saw what you thought you saw outside or if you were just reading the situation wrong. you wondered if he was done shooting his hot load onto the nearest surface. you wondered if his cock was still twitching in his hand as he helped himself ride out his high by teasing his tip or even continuing to stroke his shaft.

“hey,” he said as he greeted you. his hair was damp and his shirt hung low off his collar bone, exposing some of his chest.

“took you long enough.” you scoffed, brushing past him as you attempted to play it cool, not wanting him to suspect anything.

he closed the door behind you and you sat on his bed, tossing your bag on the ground as you laid back and took your phone out.

“i didn’t prepare anything.” he said, “i’ve been laying in bed since i left your house.”

you looked at him as he sat beside you, awkwardly bringing his knees to his chest. “are you sure about that?”

“sure about what? laying in bed…?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

you nodded, “surely you haven’t been in bed for the past 5 hours.”

“i mean, for the most part.” he shrugged. “what does it matter?”

“it doesn’t…i was just being nosey.” you said, looking away from him and sighing. “it’s hot in here.”

“it’s like 70 degrees…” he trailed off.

you sat up quickly, facing him. “we should play a game, you down?”

“yeah.” he said, “go for it.”

you smiled, “truth or dare?”

he rolled his eyes and leaned back against his wall. “truth.”

“is it true that you’re going to be a big cry baby and have a tantrum on my last day here?” you teased, pushing him.

“bold of you to assume i’m even going to your send off.” he scoffed.

your smile fell, “wait, you aren’t coming?”

“if i go, i’ll miss you too much while you’re gone.” he pouted.

you smiled again, “awwww…stop flirting with me.”

he shrugged, “truth or dare?”

“dare, of course.” you said. “give me the best you’ve got.”

his eyes glanced to the side, then back at you. “mmm, i dare you to tell me one of your biggest fears.”

you flared your nose. “that’s the lamest dare. that’s all you could come up with? make it fun!”

“i don’t know…um…do a handstand or something.” he shrugged once again.

you titled your head to the side, shifting your hips on his bed. “are you okay?”

“uh..why?” he asked you. it was obvious that something was off with him, anybody who knew heeseung could tell that his body language was different than his normal; he was being awkward and he wasn’t talking as much as he usually did. the fact that he wasn’t even making an effort to flirt with you in the grossest ways possible was throwing you off.

not to say you LIKED being flirted with but…come on, you kind of missed it.

“you’re being so weird.” you told him, glancing down at his shirt again.

he sighed. “i’m a bit tired, that’s all.”

you were quiet for a bit. was he tired from cumming a few minutes before? could his orgasm have been so intense that it made him groggy? reserved?

“truth or dare?” you asked him, your eyes fixated on your own. you wanted to know why he picked right before you came over to touch himself. why he’d do it right in front of his window, and most of all, why he was trying to pretend like he wasn’t just making a mess in his room before you came?

“truth.” he said.

“what are you tired from?” you asked him, intensely gazing into his eyes.

he smiled a little, “basketball practice this morning. just the usual.”

“that’s all?” you asked him once again, feeling a bit antsy from the smile that was plastered on his face.

“is there something else you’re thinking i did?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

your tongue slid over your lower lip, feeling a wave of heat fall over your head. “i…”

his eyebrow raised. “you..?”

“i saw you.” you admitted, feeling your once assertive demeanor fade into a timid one.

he bit his lip, attempting to hold back his smile from growing wider. as his eyes trailed down, he leaned his head back against the wall. “saw me doing what?” you looked away from him, reaching back to grab your phone but his hand grabbed your arm. “no, say it. don’t start something if you can’t finish it…”

“dude, i didn’t see anything. i don’t know what i’m talking about.” you told him, pulling your arm away from him and crossing your legs, hoping that he didn’t the arousal that was seeping through your gray shorts.

he stood up, walking over to his window and opening the curtains. “saw me standing here earlier, right?”

you ignored him, staring down at your phone and scrolled through your instagram. before you realized it, heeseung was standing in front of you. he slid his index finger underneath your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. “saw me hand fucking myself, yeah?”

you slowly nodded, entranced at his intense eye contact.

“ah ah ah,” he tsked in a disapproving manner. “use your words, you’re a big girl.”

“yes..” you whispered, feeling small underneath his gaze.

“there you go,” he cooed. “that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“no. i just…why did you do that…right in front of your window? right before i came over?” you asked him.

“why do you think?” he asked, sighing. “isn’t it obvious?”

“no?” you replied, “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

he dropped his hand to his side. “y/n, i like you. i’ve liked you since you moved next door to me.” he admitted, breaking eye contact to look down at your phone that still rested in your hand. “i couldn’t go a whole night stuck in my room with you with a straight face. it would’ve been harder than you think.”

“you like me?” you asked him, shocked.

“you’re so oblivious, i swear..” he scoffed, walking away from you and closed his curtains. “anyway, it’s not like it matters now anyway. you’re leaving in a few days.”

you scooted forwards a bit, “w-why would you just now tell me? i had no idea, heeseung. you couldn’t have told me like…freaking years ago?!”

“i told you because i wouldn’t have to face you when you rejected me. duh.” he weakly laughed, turning away from you and shuffling through some of his clothing.

you held onto the sheets underneath you, feeling completely at a loss at his words.

“i wouldn’t reject you, heeseung.” you told him.

“yeah you would, no need to lie about it.” he shrugged. “i’ve already coke to terms with it, it’s over with.”

tears began to pool in your eyes. you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that your best friend, neighbor, childhood crush was admitting his feelings to you 72 hours before you moved across the country. “heeseung, i…”

“you don’t have to let me down lightly, y/n. it’s cool, don’t worry.” he sighed, sitting down back beside you as he rubbed his arms. “are you hungry? there’s some f-“

you cut him off with a kiss, holding his face against your own. he was stiff at first, shocked. but soon, he kissed you back and pulled you onto his lap. his hands roamed over your curves, from your waist down to your ass.

but then, he pulled away and held your wrists. “y/n, why…why are you doing this?

tears fell from your eyes as you looked ahead at him, feeling your heart sadden at him; heeseung was so perfect. he had the cutest pair of large brown eyes along with a beautiful smile and a soothing voice. how could you have been so blind before? he was all you could ask for in a guy. he never made you feel uncomfortable, he was sweet, and he went above and beyond when doing things for you. how could you leave him in 3 days?

“because i like you too, heeseung.” you told him. “please don’t push me away. please.”

he looked at you, his eyes reflecting the same sadness you’d felt. he pressed his lips back to your own, holding your chest against his as he gently mended his lips with yours.

he let go of your wrists, using his hand to lay you flat on your back and lay atop of you. your hands caressed his cheeks, melting into the feeling of him. as the kiss deepened, you felt his hands moving up from your waist to your breasts, massaging your erect areola through your shirt. you moaned into his mouth, feeling a wave of arousal wash over you. heeseung pulled away, looking into your eyes.

“do you want this?” he asked, his eyes searching for any doubt or hesitation in your expression.

you nodded, “so bad.”

with that, he leaned back down to kiss you again, this time with more passion and intensity. you felt his hands moving down to your shorts, slipping them off along with your panties. he broke the kiss to look at you, taking in your naked form beneath him.

“you’re so perfect,” he whispered, before leaning down to kiss your neck. “so beautiful, so pretty.”

you whined his name, feeling his lips and tongue working their way down your body. heeseung spent a long time exploring every inch of your skin, eliciting moans and gasps from you with every touch.

he left wet kisses down your stomach down to your thighs, laying between your legs and propping them onto his shoulders. “y/n,” he whispered, “has anyone ever…done this to you before?”

you shook your head, “no, heeseung. no one has.”

he licked his lips, sucking on your dripping outer labia, sticking his tongue inside to flick his wet muscle against your achining clit.

“oh!” you squealed, arching your back at the surge of pleasure that rolled through your pelvis. “heeseung, oh my..”

he continued to pleasure you with his mouth, soon slipping in a finger to add to your pleasure. you gripped onto the sheets underneath you as you felt his rough fingertips rubbing against your convulsing walls, feeling a knot build up in your stomach.

“oh shit, heeseung….” you cried, throwing your head back as he held onto your thighs, forcing you down harder against his mouth. “i think i’m gonna…i think i’m gonna..”

he lifted his head up, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he kissed your thighs. “cum for me, baby.”

you squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm ripped through your body, making your hips sputter. essense dripped out of your tender pussy as you moaned, closing your thighs over his hand.

he kept rubbing his thumb over your sensitive clit, “heeseung, stop. please, please, i can’t. it hurts…please…”

he crawled back up to kiss you, running his fingers through your hair. “we can stop now, if you want.”

you held his face, caressing his cheek. “no, i..i want to go all the way.”

“have you had sex before?” he asked.

you shook your head, “i’ve only…done other stuff. never went all the way.”

he kissed you once before sitting up. “before we do this, i just want you to know that i’ve liked you for…a very, very long time. even on the days where we wouldn’t talk, all i thought about was you. i couldn’t bring myself to date anyone else throughout highschool when i would go home and see you through your window, looking as pretty as ever. my heart has always belonged to you, and i hope that even when you go off work college, you always remember that i’ll always hold tight onto the thought of you, keeping you close to my heart. forever and always.”

you felt tears welling up in your eyes at his words, knowing how much courage it must have taken for him to say them. you took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“i will always remember, heeseung,” you said, your voice filled with emotion. “and i will always hold onto the memories we’ve made together.”

he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips conveying all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. you felt his hands moving down to pull his pants down and he tightly held your hand within his, signaling that he was going to begin.

you felt the his cock poke against your pussy, making you gasp when you felt how hot and wet his tip was.

“squeeze my hand if it hurts and i’ll stop right away. sound good, pretty girl?” he asked, looking into your eyes.

“okay, i’m ready…” you told him, glancing down at his length prodding against your entrance. slowly but surely, you felt him slowly begin to push himself into your tight hole, stirring when you subconsciously clenched at the stretch. “y/n,” he huffed half laughed, “don’t squeeze like that. you’re gonna make me cum.”

you smiled a bit, “sorry..”

he kissed you again, glancing down and applying pressure to your tummy. “just relax, let me do the work.”

you complied, biting your lip as he bottomed out inside of you, not moving. you felt stuffed, one wrong move and he would impale your cervix. but something about the whole ordeal was turning you on so much, you could cum again without him even moving.

“feel okay?” he asked.

you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him down to kiss you. you rolled your hips against his own, itching for some type of stimulation.

he thrusted his hips into your own, starting at a slow pace as he reached down to being your leg over his back.

you moaned with pleasure, feeling a sense of euphoria wash over you as he brought you closer to another orgasm. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you as you met his thrusts with your own.

heeseung picked up the pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. you moaned into his mouth, your fingers scratching at his back as you held on for dear life.

heeseung pulled back, breaking the kiss to look down. "shit, your pussy is squeezing me," he moaned. “i’m gonna cum…”

you could feel his cock twitching inside you, signaling his impending release. the mere thought of him coming inside you sent you over the edge, your own orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave.

you cried out his name, your body convulsing with pleasure as he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm. heeseung finally slowed down, his movements becoming more gentle as he rode out his own release.

with a final thrust, you felt his hot load shoot deep inside of your walls, panting the pink walls a tinge of white.

heeseung propped himself up, pulling his sensitive cock out of you and taking a deep breath.

he slipped his boxers back on and you claimed your breathing as you heard him walk away, coming back with a damp towel. you felt him wipe down your most sensitive areas and finish off with your face.

he tossed the towel to the side and helped you slip your panties back on along with your top. without a second thought, you held onto him, cuddling into the warmth of his exposed chest.

heeseung cuddled you back, laying beside you as he pulled his covers over the both of you.

“you did so well, y/n.” he whispered, planting a soft kiss against your nose. “was it okay?”

“more than okay…” you told him, closing your eyes and yawning. “thank you..for everything. for confessing to me and for making me cum twice in one night.”

he awkwardly laughed, shifting against you. “yeah…sure. are you sleepy?”

you order, “super sleepy.”

“sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”

and with that, you fell asleep. you weren’t sure what the future held for you and heeseungs relationship. all you knew was that you loved him for him. he was your friend, your first time, and now your first love. only time would tell for your relationship.

• ₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

authors note: here’s another lil fic! got bored and wanted to do a cute lil heeseung story, hope u liked it! 😊

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Coriolanus Snow might be a heartless monster, but he'll always be yours. You'll always be his obsession. And that was one thing that Dr. Gaul underestimated her protege about: his obsession with you.

Masterlist here

Heartless Pt. 2

Coriolanus always thought that if he ever laid eyes on you again that he'd kill you. Wrap his hands around your neck, squeeze, and watch your life force drain out of you. He always thought that he'd look deep into your eyes until they glazed over with the death that he brought you.

But Coriolanus never thought that when he saw you again that he'd be keeping vigil at your bedside, watching your ashen form weak and in an endless sleep, while rocking your- his newborn son in his arms.

A son that he only found out about when your older brother called him up, frantic.

That call changed everything. It replayed in his mind on an endless loop as he stared at you, hopelessly willing you to open your eyes.

Coriolanus was sitting in his office in the lab. He finally got promoted from intern to assistant. Coriolanus was right underneath Dr.Gaul; he was proud of how quickly he was promoted.

7 months of hard work had paid off. He now had power, authorization to top secret projects and documents, and a large say so when it came to gamemaker duties. His work was very important to him; he had the steel spine that it took to make the hard decisions that some other game make s and interns turned green about.

Coriolanus Snow was rewarded because he was a heartless monster that did anything to get the result that he needed. That he wanted. He would do anything to see the games remain a success, even if that meant proposing some measures that would make the game a total spectucal.

Dr. Gaul approved of all of his ideas and suggestions. And the one that she pushed for, well he approved of and pressured the other low level gamemakers into approving it too.

It was genius, his mentor’s idea.

Having all children born on District Peacekeeper Bases be registered as a district citizen belong to the district of their birth instead of being granted automatic Capitol citizenship would ensure that their was a larger participation pool for the games; it also prevented too many officers from muddying their Capitol blood with that of district scum.

Coriolanus was looking over a chart for a mutt experiment whenever his private office phone started to ring.

Ring, ring ring…Ring, ring, ring…Ring, ring, ring…

Oh no, was Grandma'am’s memory worsening? Was she giving Ma Plinth a hard time? God, he hopes not.

Ring, ring, ring…

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a deep sigh before picking up the phone. “Assistant Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow. Whom may I be speaking with?”

“Snow, it’s Officer Rein Halvir, Y/N’s older brother. I'm calling because I need you to get to the base in District 12 right away. Y/N’s been in labor for nearly 36 hours, the doctor won't do a cesarean because Dr. Gaul put into effect a new policy that surgical resources can only be used for peacekeepers and not any civilians living on base, and it's not looking good, Coriolanus.”

“What?...” Was all Coriolanus could say. He was stunned. You could possibly be dying in childbirth? With a child he didn't know about? And on a district base.

On a district base.

Oh no! Not that!

“She was afraid to tell you, Snow. You had her terrified with the stalking: nonstop roses and jewelry. Our mother sent her to stay with me. Once it was announced that children born on district bases would be district citizens and eligible for the games, I tried to get her to go back to the Capitol, but mother refused to let her come back. I even told Y/N to call you; try to work things out with you, but she refused. Said that you never loved her; wouldn't care what happened to her or the baby.”

“I’ll talk to Dr. Gaul about approving a cesarean for Y/N right away.” Coriolanus told Rein as his dead heart started to bleed.

“Thank you, Snow.” Rein replied, a hint of gratefulness in his normally stern tone. “Will you be coming to the base? To see-” your brother began to ask, only for your ex to cut him off with, “I’ll be there, but only because I don't want my child raised in such a filthy, mud hole of a district as 12.”

Coriolanus didn't say another word. Just hung up his phone.

Machines beeped, monitoring you as you slept. Coriolanus felt that you looked dead, not asleep. He was so angry. You weren't supposed to be unconscious in your bed. You were supposed to be up, sitting in bed, holding your baby. You were supposed to scream and cry at him when he walked into your room. You weren't supposed to be just lying there, hanging in-between life and death.

Not when he had faxed the paperwork with Dr. Gaul's signature for the approval of your emergency cesarean.

You were supposed to be okay. You and the baby both. Not just the baby.

As Coriolanus watched you, waiting for a sign of life, he got lost in the recent memory of when he first saw you again.

When Coriolanus got off the train at the District 12 depot, he thought your brother would be there to greet him, but he was wrong. Instead, he had to make his own way to the District 12 base. Thank God he knew where it was, from his short stint as a peacekeeper, otherwise he'd be lost.

The walk to the base was long and grueling. He’d forgotten how far off the base was from the train depot. From the main part of the district itself.

Once he reached the on base hospital, he inquired about your whereabouts and was told where to find you. When he walked into your room, he was expecting you to be tired, but conscious. He even thought you'd be holding or nursing the baby.

Coriolanus never thought he'd walk into your room only to see you hooked up to a machine with your brother’s girlfriend (some district trash he picked up at the hob) by your side. A baby bassinet between your bed and her chair.

She introduced herself as Ashlie (didn't give a surname, not like he cared) and gestured to the bassinet, only to tell him, “That's your son, Cassian Xandros.”

Cassian Xandros.

A name befitting a Snow heir.

“You may go now. I'll watch over her.” Coriolanus told the skinny girl, who looked to be from the Seam. He didn't even bother to introduce himself. He just wanted her to go so he could- hell he didn't know, he guessed sit by your bedside until you woke up, but he didn't want some district whore watching him as he sat by your bedside with your son.

His son.

Cassian Xandros.

Ashlie nodded, a pitiful look in her eyes. She felt bad for both you and Coriolanus, but was too afraid to voice her opinion. The Seam girl just scurried out of the room, leaving Coriolanus alone with you and your son.

She didn't know much about what happened between the two of you, just what Rein told her. And your brother didn't share much since he only knew the handful of facts that you shared with him.

What both Rein and Ashlie knew for certain was that your son with his pure Capitol blood and fine Snow linage was doomed for a chance to fight for his life in the infamous death battle royale known as the Hunger Games all because he was born on Peacekeeper Base-12.

Her heart broke for you, Coriolanus, and your son because no matter if you lived or died, well the platinum blonde father would never be able to bring his son home to the Capitol with him. District born citizens of Panem were forbidden to travel outside of their district of birth unless it was to be delivered to the Capitol as a tribute for the annual Hunger Games. Due to the new rules and laws put into place regarding children born on bases being registered at birth as a citizen of the district of the base, your son was forbidden to leave District 12.

If you die, well, Coriolanus will have to give Cassian Xandros up to Rein (and Ashlie) to raise. That subject’s the reason why your brother’s avoiding Snow.

Once your brother's girlfriend had left, Coriolanus sat down in the chair she had once been occupying. He sadly sighed as he took in your condition.

When his eyes landed on his son, he felt pride well up in his chest. The boy, Cassian Xandros, had his natural platinum blonde hair.

He looked just like him.

Was his little mini me.

He gently picked up his baby boy and cradled him to his chest. When Cassian began to stir Coriolanus rocked him. “Don't worry, son, I got rid of the evil lady that tried to take you and your mother away from me.”

Cassian blinked his eyes open, revealing them to be blue. Coriolanus smiled at his son, seeing that he had striking blue eyes, and told his son, “You're mine and your mother's mine. Nobody ever takes what's mine and gets away with it.”

The baby just blinked at his father, not understanding anything he was saying since, after all, he was just a newborn, and then scrunched his nose. He then closed his eyes and went to sleep in his father's arms.

His father's murderous, monstrous arms.

When your eyes fluttered open, Coriolanus felt a sense of relief he didn't know possible. After not knowing if you'd ever wake up, seeing your beautiful eyes again was like heaven.

And to think that he had once vowed to kill you if he ever crossed your path again. But that was when he thought you gave up on him.

No, things changed when he realized that you were trying to protect the Snow heir because you felt unsafe after that package you recieved.

That damn package Dr. Gaul, his mentor, had sent you. A tape with a letter persuading you that he was incapable of loving you.

A letter he didn't know about until Dr. Gaul let it slip when he approached her about signing off on your emergency cesarean forms.

Too bad she let it slip…Well, too bad for her since it ended her career. And ended her too, by the hands of her most prized prodigy.

The memory makes Coriolanus smile as it washed over him like a warm waterfall.

Coriolanus strode into Dr. Gaul's private lab, where she had her latest deadly mutt experiment in a terrarium, with one mission in mind. To get Dr. Gaul's approval for your cesarean.

He might hate you for leaving, but he didn't want you to die in childbirth with his baby. He didn't want you and your child to succumb to the same fate as his mother and baby sister.

Not when he could help it.

He was a child when his mother and baby sister died during child birth in the Dark Days, he was helpless when it came to their fate.

But now Coriolanus was a man, a very successful one that had cunning, wits, and charm to carry him far. He had an endless supply of money too. He was no longer helpless when it came to the fate of his- well his heir and it's mother during a deadly childbirth.

Coriolanus now has the means to beat fate when it came to death in the birthing bed; he was going to make sure that you and his heir did not share the same fate his mother and baby sister all those years ago during the war.

“Dr. Gaul, I need you to sign off on an emergency cesarean for Miss Y/N Halvir. She's at the military hospital ob Peacekeeper Base-12.”

“Hippity, hoppity, looks like Snow's melting for a baby boppity.” Dr. Gaul sing-songed in a mocking cackle as she watched the mutts moving around in their tank.

They looked agitated, starved even, as their colorful bodies slithered around, sharp claws scratching their glass enclosure, and sharp teeth gnashing and snapping.

The mad scientist was teasing them by holding a bucket full of food, pulling a rodent from it and dangling it by the glass terrarium. She was teasing them, gauging their reaction to her lunchtime torture.

She had snatched away her most successful experiment’s most desperately wanted meal before he could eat; Dr. Gaul had even spoon fed him a meal that was just as good, but not what he wanted. It was what he needed, what she needed him to have to be the monstrous creature she wanted by her side to do her bidding.

She enjoyed teasing and taunting her experiments.

The only creatures of hers that she actually fed were her eels. But…they were more like beloved, dangerous, pets then mutts at this point since Dr. Gaul's had them for so many years.

Dr. Gaul placed the squirming mouse back into the bucket, turning away from the glass tank to look at Coriolanus. “No.” She simply said before walking across the lab to shelf the bucket of rodents.

She'd have an assistant feed the baby anthropomorphic reptiles in the terrarium later, after she shooed away her favorite creation, Mr. Snow, and had her milk and crackers.

“No?” Coriolanus parroted, his tone full of disbelief.

How dare she tell him no? He wasn't asking her to authorize a procedure on anyone, but the mother of his child.

“But, Dr. Gaul, without the procedure Y/N and the baby might die.”

“If they die then they die, Coriolanus.” The mad scientist shrugged nonchalantly. “Death is a natural part of life. If someone weaker or lesser than is removed from the cycle of life then it just proves that their contribution to the ecosystem would not have mattered. Death is the natural way of purging those creatures that are useless in the world.”

Coriolanus could not believe what he was hearing. His mentor was giving him a lecture on why he needed to let the mother of his child and his heir die.

Was he supposed to agree with her?

Well, he couldn't do that.

He didn't want his heir to die.

And you…well…he wanted to be the one that killed you. For leaving him, of course.

“I'm not talking about weak helpless creatures, I'm talking about-” Coriolanus began to say, only for the mad scientist to cut him off with a scoff.

“The little girl that left you over a few words of warning penned in a letter and your damning tape of your best friend Sejanus’ rebel plot. Her bastard offspring that’ll be as weak hearted as its mother. That's who you're talking about, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul told, not asked, Coriolanus as she crossed her lab. Going over to where she had a small table with crackers and milk set up for her snack.

A letter? What letter? He knew about the tape, but not a letter. You never told him about the letter.

“Might as well be weak helpless creatures, considering their dire circumstances and the lowly district they're in.” The mad woman added in as a slight after thought.

“I never told you she received a letter.” Coriolanus, who had figured out what Dr. Gaul has done, told the scientist while following her. His floor shines clicked heavily against the linoleum floor as he told her, “The only way you'd know would be if you sent it.”

Taking a seat at her small snack table, the scientist with wild, frizzy hair, giggled, “Oh, yes, you see, it was indeed me that sent the weak little girl that care package.” Reaching for her napkin and snapping it open, she evilly grinned, “Miss Y/N Halvir and the bastard she carries would only have held you back.” Setting her napkin on her lap, she explained, “The feelings they would have invoked in you would only make you weak.” Giving her protege a proud smile, she giddily announced, “I only made you stronger by removing an element not needed in your life at the moment.” Reaching for a cracker that was on a plate, Dr. Gaul failed to see the rage in Coriolanus' blue eyes. Perhaps if she did, she wouldn't have said, “You should be thanking me, for making you stronger and more powerful then you could have been months ago with the weakness of that stupid girl and the vile creature she's incubating.”

Hearing Dr. Gaul calling you stupid and calling his child a vile creature was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Coriolanus was barely hanging onto his sanity when he realized that Dr. Gaul made you leave him, made you want to protect his child from any dangers (including him) because of a letter and a tape she sent you. But the moment she insulted you, the woman that has consumed his thoughts and has been his obsession since his freshman year in the Academy, and his child in a way that made you seem inhuman, well, he snapped.

He was blinded with rage as he pounced on the mad scientist, catching her off guard and causing her to fall backwards; off her chair.

Coriolanus kneeled over her while wrapping his hands around her throat.

“Y/N was mine, you knew she was mine, and you took her from me! You took her and our child from me when you knew all I wanted was a life with her!” Coriolanus wildly exclaimed as he choked the life out of Dr. Gaul.

“Everything I've ever done was all for her! I needed to win the Plinth prize for her, for our life together, and I had to find a way out of the Peacekeepers, out of 12, for her! You knew that and still, you made her think she meant nothing to me; made her view me as a monster and leave me!” The platinum blonde ranted as his long fingers pressed so hard into the dark skinned woman’s neck that the bones began to crack.

Dr. Gaul gasped for air as her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her eyes were wide and frenzied with the horrific realization that her favorite mutt, the monster she molded and shaped, had turned on her all because somewhere deep down inside of his black, dead heart, he still had a space reserved for his childhood sweetheart.

The blood vessels in Dr. Gaul's eyes burst due to the pressure Coriolanus was applying to her airway. He smirked wickedly as he watched the life drain from her.

“Snow lands on top.” Was the last thing Dr. Gaul heard before she died and went straight to hell.

Coriolanus, upon seeing that the evil scientist was dead, quickly tossed her into the pool of eels to cover up the crime.

Then he forged her signature on the documents needed for your cesarean; faxed them to the hospital on the base in District 12. He also made a quick note in her desk planner stating that he had to take an emergency family leave due to the birth of his first child. It was the perfect alibi to cover his tracks. Nobody would question his whereabouts if they thought Dr. Gaul herself authorized your emergency cesarean, authorized his family leave as well.

You were weak as you took in the bright artificial lights of your hospital room. When you tried to sit up, you were gently stopped by a large hand you hadn't seen in months. “You need to rest, darling. You're still weak.” A baritone you never thought you'd ever hear again told you.

Looking towards the voice, you saw Coriolanus sitting by your bedside with your baby in his arms. Your heart stopped beating and all you could say was, “My baby.”

You didn't know if you were afraid that your ex was holding your son or overwhelmed with a sick sense of joy, but all you knew was that you wanted your baby.

“Our baby, Y/N.” Coriolanus corrected you before standing and placing the newborn into your awaiting arms.

As you held your son to your chest, you shuddered and began crying. The last thing you remember was passing out and when you woke up…well…you had no idea what happened to the baby.

“Did my brother call you?” You asked, realizing that's the only way Coriolanus would know where to find you. Honestly, you were shocked he even came when Rein called.

“Yes.” The platinum blonde nodded. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he wrapped an arm around your back and promised, “As soon as your cleared to leave, I'm bringing you and Cassian Xandros home with me, to the Capitol.”

Looking between your son, nestled soundly in your arms, and his father, you sadly sighed, “Cassian's district, Coriolanus. He was born on base; he won't be allowed on the train.”

“Don't worry about that, my darling rose. I promise, our son will be allowed to return to the Capitol with us.”

You doubted your ex’s words, but nodded anyways.

Little did you know that Coriolanus threatened to kill the nurse’s family who gave him the registration papers for your son if he was marked down as anything, but born in Capitol General.

Like hell was his son, his heir, going to be district. His son wasn't going to grow up in a filthy mud hole. And he sure as hell wasn't going to be fighting for his life in the games.

Coriolanus kills so that his son, Cassian, doesn't have to.

So, folded up neatly in his pocket was a birth certificate that falsely states that Cassian Xandros Snow was born at Capitol General, in Capitol City, Panem.

Even tho Coriolanus Snow was a heartless monster, he was yours. He’s always been obsessed with you and now that you share a child with him, well, even the devil couldn't keep you and your son from him.

After all, he did send the wicked witch of the Citadel to hell for you and his son.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons , @qoopeeya , @mfnqueen1

[b7ngt4n]

The Last Remaining | Part 05

-> South Korea was left abandoned after a 'zombie' virus sweeps the nation. Left to save themselves, Y/N and a group of seven men, who she's found safety in, rely on each other to stay alive as they travel to the south side of the country on the hunt for a rumoured 'z-free' haven. But nothing is ever easy. Especially when they find it's not only just zombies they need to watch their backs for.

-> A female reader x BTS zombie apocalypse AU

-> Genre: Post-apocalyptic, action

-> Warnings for Part 5: swearing, violence, gore

-> Word count: 5,357 words

-> Interactions are greatly appreciated xoxo 💖

Part 05: Code Purple 🧟

The sky was painted a pretty ombré of yellow, orange, dark blue and purple. If it weren’t for the circumstances you were in, you would’ve definitely taken a photo and stayed to watch the sun set. But the sun setting was your number one problem at the moment as you hadn’t found shelter yet. Who knows what kinds of things could go wrong at night. Or what could kill you. Eat you.

Suwon was your average zombie-town. Not a single living thing lurking around apart from zombies. But there was something off about them.

They were more slower and less aggressive. Compared to Seoul Z’s, Suwon Z’s were angels. They were a breeze to get rid of, which was very fortunate for you guys as the only weapons on you were yours and Yoongi’s pocket knives. Other than that, it was up to everyone to go old school with their good ol’ fists.

But you noticed something very odd about these zombies. Something that couldn’t just be a weird coincidence.

“Namjoon,” you stopped the person closest to you. He was confused, about to ask why you stopped him in his tracks as you both fell to the back of the group. But he noticed the slight frown on your face, and that you weren’t looking at him but something behind him.

He followed your gaze, finding himself looking down a narrow and dim alleyway. He didn’t see it at first but when he saw it, he finally understood why it had your attention.

There on the ground was the upper body of an alive zombie crawling your way with one arm. There was no lower body. It had been cut off from the hip down, leaving its pelvic bone horrifically exposed. It was using its hand to drag itself across the pavement. But it was very gradual. Like it was trying so hard to get to where it wanted to go but was on the verge of giving up. There was just something so miserable about watching it struggle.

But the pity party wasn't the problem. Ever since you arrived, every zombie you’ve come across had some parts of it missing. It could be something small like an ear or an eye or something larger like two arms or a foot.

“Tell me you’ve noticed it too, how all these zombies are missing body parts,” you remarked, glancing at him.

“Yeah I noticed,” he sighed heavily, crossing his arms as he watched the hopeless half of a zombie slowly crawl its way to you, centimetre at a time.

“It can’t just be a coincidence, right?” you speculated, sharing your thoughts with him. He agreed with you, but it was difficult to find a reasonable explanation to this.

“Maybe they started eating each other? Ran out of humans?” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders. But you weren’t convinced.

“There’s no way,” you denied, pointing at the legless and single-armed zombie as you inspected it closer, “that doesn’t look like a bite mark to me.”

Namjoon had to admit you were right. The cut was too clean to have been bitten off, which completely crosses off his assumption. Could it have been a bear? A rabid mutated bear that feeds off of zombies? Or a gigantic mother zombie who is much more ruthless compared to normal ones? Many questions were raised that he honestly didn’t want to know the answer to.

“It’s suspicious, yes,” he admitted, “but let’s not focus too much on it. We still need to find a place to spend the night. Not to mention, food, water, and weapons. These guys are somehow the least of our problems right now,” he referred to the crawling zombie who was still somehow nowhere close to you. It barely made any progress.

“Okay, yeah, you’re right, let’s go,” you sighed, agreeing with him that you did have more important things to worry about. He patted you on the shoulder as you both rejoined the group further down the street. But your suspicions still weighed in your mind.

“Joon, we found a supermarket with food, water, torches, bandages, pain-killers, and other useful supplies like that. It was unlocked but we checked and it doesn’t seem like anyone’s inside,” Hoseok informed Namjoon as soon as he arrived. He nodded, observing the supermarket’s store front before giving it the all clear.

“Good job guys. Let’s stay here for tonight and make a move tomorrow morning,” Namjoon instructed, giving Jin and Hoseok beside him a pat on the back.

Everyone settled in very easily. You tried to as well, but the odd feeling in your gut made it difficult. It just wouldn’t go away. You felt uncomfortable in this city, like something was off about this place. You didn’t know if it was because of the zombies or something else about the town was bothering you. But it was strong enough that it affected you and the way you acted. And enough for the boys to notice too.

“You’ve been quiet,” Jungkook spoke from behind you as you were mindlessly browsing the crisps aisle. You jumped, glancing back to find Jungkook’s familiar face as you held your chest in an effort to calm your racing heart. He noticed you were badly shaken by his sudden appearance, something he did not intend to do.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmured in a gentle voice, placing his hands on your shoulders to turn you around, “it’s just me.”

You made eye contact with him. His frantic eyes and pinched eyebrows made you realise just how much this zombie mess was getting to your head.

“Sorry,” you apologised, embarrassed he had to see you like that, “I’m going crazy,” you shook your head, burying your face into your hands.

Jungkook breathed out, chuckling to himself, “We all are Y/N. It’s what the apocalypse does to you.”

You lifted your head up to see a small grin had appeared on his face. He grabbed a large packet of Doritos from the shelf behind you (your favourite flavour too), ripped it open, and settled down on the floor, “so I’m guessing this is somehow connected to whatever Namjoon and you were talking about earlier.”

You joined him on the floor, sitting opposite him as you both shared the packet of chips, “Yeah, but it’s kinda stupid now that I think about it,” you reflected your honest thoughts out loud to him.

“Nothing you think or say is stupid,” Jungkook replied, staring at you.

A shy smile appeared on your face as you looked away, unable to hold eye contact as you felt your cheeks heating up.

"Come on, let me know what's going on in that pretty head of yours," he said with handsome and intriguing eyes you just couldn't say no to.

You giggled at his smooth words and the cheeky smirk he had on his face, "I just thought it was weird how every zombie here was missing body parts, that's all."

He didn't say anything, just stared at you. A sour smile appeared on your face, "I told you it was stupid."

"No, I noticed it too," he admitted, you glanced at him, "and I think it's weird too. It doesn't seem like a coincidence to me."

You sighed in content, "right? I just know there's something more to it. Just have no idea what," you quietly trailed off, eyebrows furrowing together as you still couldn't think of a reasonable explanation to your theories.

"And I'm sure we'll find out when the time's right," Jungkook assured you, reaching out to cup your hand between his, "but you will not put yourself in harms way, I won't let you."

You frowned at him but continued to listen to him as he spoke, "I know we just met, but I really like you alive Y/N. I just want you to be safe. Whatever happened to those zombies, I don't want happening to you."

Your heart may have skipped a beat or two. Did he just confess he liked you? It was like a scene from a romance movie you would watch on TV. You just never knew how much butterflies it could give you in real life.

"Okay," you nodded, frown instantly melting away as a soft smile appeared on your lips, "I understand."

"Your hands are cold. Come here," he whispered tenderly, arms outstretching towards you. You didn't really need to move as Jungkook used his muscles to bring you himself. He turned you around, pulling you close so you rested nicely on his chest. He wrapped an arm around you to keep you warm and close.

"I heard skin on skin contact can help raise body temperature," he muttered an excuse against your head, you could feel his lips touching your hair.

Just as you were about to look up at him and say something, he stopped you, "Don't move or it won't work."

It was no use arguing with Jungkook when he was like a big fluffy bunny that had wrapped you up into his own personal pillow- burrito. Not that you were against it anyways. You were so close to him that you could hear his heart pounding against his hard chest. It was beating fast, like he'd just gone for a run even though you guys have been sitting here for the past 10 minutes. You nearly burst out laughing right then and there at his cuteness. Jeon Jungkook, you're not slick.

You woke up to chatter between Namjoon and what sounded like a woman. You were in a different spot from where you last remembered, which was against Jungkook's chest. Your head was resting on towels, ones you previously saw on the shelf, and a thin blanket had been placed on top of you. The sky was no longer a pitch black but the sun shine was up and shining from the east, indicating it was the next morning.

"Yes Dr Baek, your hospitality is much appreciated but we're just about to head off-" you heard Namjoon say before being abruptly cut off.

"-Nonsense. We have showers, fresh clothes, and I will cook up a fresh soup for you all," she interrupted him, insisting him to take up her offers.

You looked around to find everyone mostly awake. You nudged the closest person next to you, Hoseok, and whispered discreetly to him, "what's going on?"

"Not that sure, I woke up to Namjoon talking to her too," he informed you, nodding toward the short, hunched-back black-and-grey-haired woman when he said 'her', "she's been telling him she and the remaining survivors of Suwon are in the city hall. And has been asking Namjoon and us to have a rest there."

You liked the sound of having a rest despite having a 5 hour sleep (which was the most you'd ever get in the apocalypse), "sounds nice. I could use a shower right now," you admitted, disliking how you've been sitting in your own dirt for a couple days now.

"Yeah, me too," Hoseok agreed quietly.

"Okay Doctor, we will stay until the afternoon. After that we will be on our way," Namjoon suggested a compromise to her. The Doctor's saggy cheeks and wrinkle lines lifted as she grinned, showing off what looked like dentures.

"Oh, everyone back at the hall will be so happy to have guests over," she gleamed, wrapping a hand around Namjoon's arm to help guide her out, taking him with her.

"Follow me, chop chop, this way!" she called behind her as Namjoon beckoned Jin to follow behind him closely. Jin was out the door as soon as he signalled for Hoseok to pack things up quickly and join them. Everything moved so fast and it didn't feel like any one of you had a choice. It was only when you counted five other heads, you noticed there were two missing.

"Jimin," you two were the last in the supermarket as Hoseok and Taehyung had already left with your bag freshly packed of supplies, "where's Jungkook and Yoongi?"

Jimin glanced behind him, as if to check there wasn't anybody around to listen, "they left earlier in the morning to see if they could find any weapons."

You nodded, unsure as to why that would be much of a secret, "okay, well we have to go find them to tell them we're going to the city hall." But Jimin gave you a 'not so sure that's going to happen' look.

"I think it's best they join us later," he told you, an evident frown appearing on your face that he cannot ignore, "let's check the hall out first. And if it's safe, we'll go get them."

You crossed your arms and sighed, "we can't just leave them," your disappointment doesn't go unnoticed by him.

He placed an arm on your shoulder to assure you, looking you dead in the eyes, "trust me I'd never leave my brothers behind," he promised you.

"Look," he revealed a permanent marker hiding in his hands. You watched as he wrote the letters 'CP' on the wall next to the door. It was small enough to not attract attention but big enough to see if you looked from the right angle.

"What does that mean?" you questioned, staring at it and thinking of all the possible meanings behind it. But Jimin shook his head with a smile as he dragged you out the store to quickly catch up with the others.

But not before he quietly whispered into your ear, "it stands for 'Code Purple'. It means trust."

Jungkook and Yoongi were happy to have successfully found handguns and rifles at the local police station. They were lucky to find all the goods in there: loaded magazines, radios, walkie talkies, and a paper map. Just about all you guys needed to get back on your feet, literally. But Jungkook's smile immediately faded when he came back to an empty supermarket.

He couldn't help but think and worry about you first before his best friends who are like family to him. Was it selfish? Probably. Did he betray bro code? Probably. He felt like shit not thinking of his bros first. Like he was betraying his family for a girl he just met. He didn't want to feel this way towards his brothers, but there was no avoiding the way his heart felt about you.

The moment he first saw you wasn't even when he first met you. No. Jimin and him had been watching you since Kang very loudly pulled up to the gas station. The two of them were just about to scavenge it out for supplies when you made a very grand and unique entrance. Jimin insisted on waiting for you all to leave to check out the gas station like planned, but Jungkook had forgotten all about the plan the moment he laid eyes on you. He thought you looked so beautiful and so graceful. But what boiled his blood was when he saw the way Kang treated you. He saw your hands tied up and him pushing you around like you were a rag doll. He was so pissed off that he was just getting away with this in broad daylight because it was the fucking apocalypse. He took his opportunity to save you when he saw Kang running towards the back of the store. He knew you were trying to make an escape. He couldn't just stand by and let you lose an unfair battle. He was up and moving before he realised it, giving Jimin no choice but to follow and help out the youngest one save you.

"Where the fuck did they go?" Jungkook exclaimed, quickly browsing down the aisles only to find it was only him and Yoongi there. He was panicking, losing his mind, while Yoongi quietly stood there examining the store.

"Relax Jungkook, they're fine," Yoongi tried to calm him while Jungkook paced around. He turned to glare at him, flames of rage in his eyes that Yoongi had never seen before in him.

"You don't know that," he said harshly, clenching his jaw as he leaned against the shelf to try and think more clearer. Yoongi knew the reason he was so worked up was because of you. Jungkook was anxious for you. He noticed Jungkook picking at the skin of his finger, a habit of his when he's anxious.

"But I do," Yoongi replied, pointing at the wall before Jungkook could ask questions. Jungkook had to pause, squint, and look closer to notice the letters 'CP' written in permanent marker. He glanced at Yoongi, unsure what happened while he was gone but knowing he just had to trust you all. But one thing's for sure, they knew they had to find you guys.

"Look," Yoongi pointed outside through the window to a street pole across the supermarket. Jungkook listened, looking closely to see the letters 'CP' written again in marker.

Yoongi heard the sound of Jungkook's boots clunking against the floor before hearing him say, "let's go."

Jimin's words had been repeating in your head ever since you left the supermarket. Trust. Trust was such a powerful thing. So powerful it could make or break something or someone. In times of uncertainty, trust was the most valuable thing a person could have. It all just came down to whether that person chooses it, or not.

Along the way, Dr Baek told you guys all about life in the city hall since the apocalypse. The communal system she had set up, led by herself, seemed to work very well for her and those living in the hall. They had assigned each other different roles, each proving its own use to their way of life. Watch guards who kept the building perimeter secure of zombies, gardeners who produced fresh greenery in their own makeshift indoor garden, radio comms who had goals of repairing their battered radio signal, the maids who assisted Dr Baek with every task she gave, and Dr Baek being the only chef of the house who prepped everyone's meals. You had to admit it was very impressive what the Dr had set up.

As soon as you had arrived, the Dr ordered the maids to take you to get cleaned up. You enjoyed a cold but refreshing shower. The feeling of water and soap running down your hair and body was all you had been yearning for. They also gave you a plain t-shirt and skinny jeans while they took your clothes for washing, which you never consented to but thanked them for anyway.

The maids took you to the entrance of the main meeting hall when you finished. You found the others to already be waiting for you, all freshly showered and newly dressed too. Nobody seemed to understand what was happening as the maids quietly gathered you all. Once you were all there, they opened the doors to the hall. Inside revealed Dr Baek who stood on the small stage, in front of a podium, and every other survivor was seated in the front row chairs facing her. Everyone's attention turned to you all, the strangers on their door step.

"Here they come now everyone," Dr Baek announced as the maids ushered the group of you down the aisle. You all listened, awkwardly making eye contact with all the survivors as you walked past them. You swiftly counted about twelve heads, thirteen if you included Dr Baek. They watched you with blank faces and black pupils that never left you for a second. You were unsure whether they were happy, scared, sad, or angry. One thing's for sure their stares made you feel uncomfortable.

"Give a round of applause for our newcomers," Dr Baek shared excitedly into the microphone as you all stood in front of her, facing the crowd. The survivors began to clap all at once, and managed to stop all at once too, something that kind of creeped you out.

"They will be staying in the east wing-" the Dr began her speech, but Namjoon stopped her.

"Um, we aren't staying," he clarified to her, glancing at the very unwelcoming crowd, "we're just passing by, like I told you before," he gently reminded the old woman.

Dr Baek tilted her head, silently thinking to herself before she let out a chuckle, "silly me, how could I forget?"

There was something suspiciously fake sounding about her voice, like she was lying straight to your faces. Even Jimin had the same odd feeling as you caught his gaze from the corner of your eye.

"Well, everyone, it's quite sad our new friends cannot stay with us for long. Hence why we shall hold a special lunch in the dining hall now to send our beloved friends off," she declared to everyone. It was silent as the crowd blankly stared at you all as usual. You all exchanged glances between each other.

"You wouldn't leave with an empty stomache now, would you dear?" Dr Baek asked Namjoon in a way that he felt like he didn't have a choice.

He mustered a smile, "of course not Dr Baek," he glanced at you all, "we'd love to have lunch with you." You could see the message in his eyes: we're leaving straight after this.

"Brilliant," she smiled with her fake teeth, "everyone please make your way to the dining hall. Maids, please escort our friends," she ordered, before disappearing into another room with the assistance of two maids.

Her maids silently took you all to the dining hall before everyone else left. They took you around the east side of the building. You glanced outside the windows, finding the sun well above your heads. It was already midday, and you all were still stuck here. Jungkook and Yoongi crossed your mind in that instant. You wondered if they were okay, if they got Jimin's message, and if you'd ever see them again. Especially Jungkook.

Speaking of Jungkook, the duo had followed the clever trail of CP's left behind. They easily recognised it to be Jimin's handwriting. When the trail stopped, they found themselves looking at Suwon City Hall. Both men were confused. Why the city hall?

That was until they spotted movement from inside through the windows. Yoongi used binoculars he found at the police station to get a closer look. And just as he had hoped, he saw you all. Namjoon, Jin, Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, and you. He confirmed it to Jungkook who practically snatched the binoculars out his hands to catch a glimpse of you before you disappeared again. You appeared calm, not afraid, but you were surrounded by unfamiliar people, people dressed in the same maid's uniform. There had to be about four leading the six of you. They didn't look like they've caused trouble. But the two also knew they would've been searched for to make a move all together. Obviously, they were left out the picture for a good reason. And both of them knew the reason.

They explored the perimeter from a distance, conducting their safest bet at sneaking in was through the back door. Jungkook and Yoongi were not exactly sure what they were doing. All they knew was that you all were heading to the east side of the building and right now the pair were at the south-west side.

They agreed to move to the east, mostly because Jungkook persisted and Yoongi wasn't one to say no to him. Jungkook needed his eyes on you. He had to make sure you were okay and not hurt.

They snuck between hallways, checking every corner they turned at to make sure the coast was clear. They would provide no help to you guys if they got caught. They didn't know how dangerous these people were. They had to assume the worst.

After entering and exiting out of similar hallways, Yoongi and Jungkook found themselves in what seemed like an industrial kitchen. But the first thing they both noticed was the horrid stench hitting their noses.

"What the fuck is that smell?" Jungkook cursed under his breath to Yoongi as he plugged his nose and glanced back at his older brother.

"No idea," Yoongi whispered back, his face scrunching in disapproval. Just as Jungkook saw the exit and was going to make a beeline for it, Yoongi tugged on his shirt sleeve.

"What?" he asked, turning back to find Yoongi staring in horror at the kitchen bench. Jungkook followed his gaze, and nearly threw up the instant noodles he ate before.

There on the metal table was the body of a zombie that had been violently mangled and sliced. The eyes rested on a plate, its limbs were crushed and put inside a bowl, and its legs were brutally cut up into slices and chunks.

Jungkook felt the noodles coming up, finding the nearest pot to let it out, only to find a mutated zombie boiling in water. And he swore the pupils on its eyes looked up at him. He ended up vomiting in the corner.

"We need to find them now," Yoongi told him after he finished, drawing out his gun from its holster.

Somehow, when you made it into the dining hall everybody was already seated. You noticed seating was separated by gender, boys sitting on the left side and girls sitting on the right side. The dining hall consisted of a long rectangular table facing vertically in the middle of the room. It was decorated in a classic gold table cloth with candlesticks lined down the middle. The maids sat you down in a velvet cushioned chair. You hated every awkward second that passed.

The main doors opened to reveal Dr Baek. Followed behind her was a maid pushing a tray cart filled with bowls of what appeared to be soup. A wicked stench hit your nose as the cart passed by, causing your face to scrunch up as the maid served everyone's bowls. Glancing across at the boys, they seemed to have smelt the stench too. And by glancing at everyone else and judging by their blank faces, this might just be weirdly normal to them.

Dr Baek sat at the head of the table. Unfortunately, you had the blessing of having the seat right next to her. She gave you a wide smile, showing off her dentures. You forced a smile back before looking down at your food, uninterested in making small talk. You inspected it and it did not smell or look appetizing whatsoever. The soup juice was a transparent dark green colour while there were small chunks of what looked like brown beef. You wanted to be grateful for having food during the apocalypse, but you would rather starve than eat whatever was in that bowl. No offence to the Dr but you literally felt like throwing up.

"You may all eat," the old woman announced. At that moment, all the survivors dug into their bowls, slurping up the entire thing like it was their last meal. On the other hand, you and the boys were struggling to even breathe near the food.

The old woman glanced at you, sensing how tense you were, "I made this soup myself. It's a beef soup. It's not the best but I'm just using whatever I have," she sighed, making you feel a bit bad.

Jin poked at the beef with his spoon, "and where'd you get the beef from?"

She glanced at him, hesitating before she answered, "from a can."

"This," you frowned, holding up a chunk of beef in your spoon to eye level, "is from a can?" you asked in disbelief, eyebrows raised. It looked like it had been expired, eaten, thrown up, run over, and then put into your bowl.

"Yes, it's very delicious and good for health my dear. I think you should have a bite," the Dr insisted you, "it would make me very happy. And then you're free to leave."

You fought everything inside you to not roll your eyes. Fine, you thought, if it means we finally get to leave.

But just as you were about to suck it up and take a spoonful in your mouth, the main doors burst open.

"Jungkook? Yoongi?" you exclaimed in disbelief at the two men reappearance. They stood in the doorway, pointing guns at everyone.

"Don't eat the food!" he yelled at the same time as you spoke, pointing his gun at the unfamiliar faces, unsure who his target should be, "it's made of zombies!"

You pushed the bowl away in disgust, nearly hurling right then and there. The boys did the same, quickly getting out their seats. This was your cue to leave. The survivors all crawled underneath the table, shaking in fear from Yoongi pointing a gun at them. This was your first time seeing their faces move a muscle.

Just as you were about to get up, an old flabby arm wrapped around your neck, pulling you back into Dr Baek's chest. She had you in a headlock, but you couldn't fight back when you felt the tip of a sharp knife pressed against your cheek.

"I'll rip this girls face off and make a soup out of it!" she screamed, bursting your eardrums as you flailed about in her arm. She was surprisingly strong for someone her age.

"No!" you cried, fingers trying to make room between your neck and her arm. She was going to strangle you to death before she peeled your face off.

"Get the fuck away from her!" Jungkook demanded her, aiming his gun straight at her. But there was no way he could get a clean shot without risking hitting you. And the Dr knew that.

"You seem to care about this girl a lot, young man," she noticed, her voice hiding sinister intentions you would've never expected from a small elderly woman like her, "eat my soup and I'll let your doll run free."

Jungkook glanced between the crazy woman, the soup, and you. He knew he'd reached another level of insanity when he genuinely started considering her offer. He would do anything for you and he meant it. And if that meant eating zombie chow to make sure you were safe, he'd do it.

"Okay," he muttered, lowering his gun as he stared at a bowl full of zombie soup. He felt round two of vomit coming up. But he had to do this. He had to. For you.

"No! Don't!" you yelled at him. You bit down with your teeth as hard as you could on Dr Baek's flabby wrinkly arms. Luckily it did not take much for her to pull away shrieking. At that moment you heard a gun shot. It rung in your ears. You dived to the floor, unsure where that shot hit, but the adrenaline pumping through you had you quickly crawling away.

Chaos erupted in the dining hall again as the survivors quivered in fear from the gunshot while Dr Baek screamed in agonizing pain. You found Jungkook kneel down in front of you, the same sight you saw when you first met him, giving you a sense of deja vu. He pulled you up to your feet, instructing you that you needed to go. But you were so happy to see him. You started tearing up as you pulled him into a hug. You inhaled his soft scent of cologne and men's deodorant, something that would only remind you of him. He hugged you back only tighter. But it was only a couple seconds long before you both pulled back. Jungkook's hand found yours as he quickly led you out.

You spared a quick glance back to find Dr Baek slumped over unconscious in her chair. Her entire upper body was covered in crimson red and you noticed a small bullet-shaped hole in her shirt. But what creeped you out the most was the way the survivors had crowded around her in a circle. Their creepy black pupils stared at her, not in grief or sorrow, but in hunger. The last thing you saw was the circle slowly closing in before they sunk their teeth into her raw flesh.

(a/n: well 😀 so that’s that! BAHAHA this part took a few days hope you guys didn’t mind too much 💙 but i’m so incredibly happy and proud i finally get to share this part w my beautiful readers 🫶🏽 hope it wasn’t too gross n u managed to get thru it 😭 n honestly didn’t expect the story to take such a romantic turn w y/n & jk so fast 😭😭 really it js happened n i liked the flavour it bought to the story so yeah their relationship changed a bit too fast for my liking but i think it’s cute yk hope yous like it 😊👍

and wow i js want to say props to those writers who b writing a whole as 15k wc chapter like how tf. 2000+ is good for me but WOW 5000+ took me out like i srsly thought i wrote double what i wrote 😭 IDK HOW PPL MANAGE TO WRITE SO MUCH BUT SHOUTOUTS TO YOUS 😀👍 anyways love u all so much thank u so much for the love on this series xoxo 😘)

[damn-stark]

Hi, i know that you're currently hiatus on aot fanfic but can i have more backstory about Cherry and Levi in No Regret arc? Cant help but thinkin 'bout soft levi taking care of us, Levi need more huggies. Gonna sobbing myself at the corner while waiting for the final season to be released.

Psst sorry for the bad english and grammar

TAKES PLACE DURING CHAPTER 1 OF CHERRY

———————————————————

Our little life

A/N- so Bella’s back? (Tell me that you know where that’s from)

Warning- FLUFF

Pairing- Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

Takes place- Before No Regrets Arc

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

It’s been what? A few weeks since you came into his life—or since he’s let you stay in his life.

He can’t say you’ve changed much, you’re still just as quiet with most of the words that come out of you being ‘yes’ and ‘no’. It’s like you're almost scared to say too much. You also still don’t seem to know your own name, nor do you utter your parent's names, or actually ask for them. You don’t move much which was good for him.

You do eat though, everything he served you you ate quickly, which kept him busy because he needed to remind you to eat slower or you’d choke and die.

He also bought you a cheap doll but you hardly paid any mind to it, instead you passed your time watching the window as if you were waiting for someone to come. Probably you’re good for nothing father.

Oftentimes Levi will find himself worrying about you, but he tries not to. Life underground is hard, especially for children, there might be a chance you don’t survive past a certain age so he’s trying to keep his distance, but he does worry that you might really hate living here. Furlan says to give you time to adjust, but it’s been weeks.

Maybe he should leave you an orphanage, at least there will be more kids your age there. You’d have friends, and who knows there might be some super slight chance that you’d get adopted by some nice family trying to stroke their ego, or you can even get picked up by the military above ground so you can die for them when you’re older. You’d be better off in either setting.

Then again…

Those chances are slim and you were left for him to take care of. And he doesn’t owe Kenny any favors, he isn’t taking care of you because of him, but…he can’t show Kenny that he couldn’t take care of a kid, he needs to prove to Kenny that he can be what Kenny never was.

Plus his mother would've taken you in without a doubt…

But! This raising a kid thing is harder than he thought.

“Damn,” he sighs and lolls his head to the side to ponder when he should be sleeping.

Nevertheless, a few minutes later the door to the room creaks open, and out you come dragging along the blanket on the ground, and your eyes droopy.

You stop past the door and rub your eyes before they adjust on Levi. “Dark,” you mutter and catch him by surprise.

That’s the only thing you say before you slowly walk over and climb on the couch to lay beside him with your head close to his lap.

That catches Levi by surprise too, but soon he feels discomfort that you were…finding comfort so close to him. It’s weird. Plus you took over his room, why aren’t you there?

“Go back,” Levi commands as he scoots away so you won’t touch him.

You drag yourself up like a worm to be closer to him and you talk back. “No. It’s dark.”

You’re talking. He just heard you talk!

It’s weird.

Thus he gets up instead and walks into his room to finally lay on his bed after days of abandonment all so you could be comfortable. But now he’s on it again and he missed it. He likes his bed, as hard and thin as it is, he likes his bed and not the couch.

However, before Levi can close his eyes the light coming from the living room casts a larger light as sees you walking in.

“Uh.”

You hop on your feet and cling onto the sheets to climb up.

“What are you doing?” Levi asks with what was almost disgust in his voice.

Albeit you don’t answer now, you lay beside him and throw the blanket over you.

“It’s not dark out there,” he sasses you. But again you ignore him and close your eyes, so now Levi slides himself off the bed and once again walks away to leave you be. He even leaves the door open this time hoping that would be enough light for you.

Now perhaps he can finally get some fucking sleep? It’s been a long day especially because he hasn’t slept in a while.

So he closes his eyes and lets out an exhausted sigh. Nevertheless, only moments later the patter of feet against the wooden panels approaches the couch, so he opens his eyes and there you are once again climbing up on the couch next to him.

There’s so much space on the other side of the couch but, no, you lay your head by his lap and quickly throw your blanket over yourself. So now what can he do? It doesn’t seem like you listen.

This is why instead of spending more time walking off he reaches over for the top of your head and pushes you away. You snap your eyes open and look up at him as you’re being easily pushed away and can’t help but laugh.

You laugh for the first time since you were left at his doorstep. It’s short since you quickly cut yourself off to fall asleep as if you had been knocked out, but you laughed.

It’s such a simple thing. So mundane…

Yet when he leans his head back and closes his eyes he can’t help but let a faint smile tug on his lips because he made you laugh.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @expectoscamander @greenygreenland @that-soft-lesbian-friend @dai-tsukki-desu @usernamehere91 @avocadopoosae @romancried @victor-criss-bish @moo-moo-meadow @stareatceiling @padfootii @ravensleepyeyes @thanosisadilf @dawneee @babyyblueey @leahseclipse @ifimnotabushimnoone @luvelyxp @ameliabs-world

[mamirhodessxox]

Hi loves! So I’m gonna start posting prompts from stories that I decided to not Include, This one is gonna be a good chunk of reading since in a few chapters it was supposed to go into the final part of “I Hate You More” with the major possibility that our main character Sasha would die but I decided to not include that but i’m still not sure since I like to have heartbreaking endings or happy endings.

Enjoy <3

🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤���🖤✨🖤

Seth searched throughout the parking garage that was a mess of blown up cars & dust followed with ashes & chunks of concrete everywhere, the team had gotten into a large altercation with Roman & his men but he didn’t expect things to end like this.

Cody sat up slowly wiping any blood off of his face while coughing as he accidentally inhaled smoke before looking around “Sasha..?” Seth turned to him & furrowed his brow noticing Sasha was no longer by Cody’s side, Marianna’s face dropped along with Barbra & Randy’s as they all stood up to their feet. Marianna immediately searched around even cutting her palm as she lifted & threw concrete across the ground “Where is she?!” She shouted while Cody rushed moving any sort of damaged object out of the way as he helped Marianna search for Sasha but found no luck.

Barbra searched through any car that was flipped upside down or on their side but didn’t get a sprinkle of a hint where her daughter could possibly be. Randy checked one specific spot & eventually found a leather jacket in between the larger chunks of concrete making Seth look towards his direction and shake his head in disbelief until he saw a figure lie underneath a car, immediately Marianna saw & started tearing up before running towards the car “Marianna No!” Randy shouted out as he didn’t know if it were a trap or actually Sasha but either way Mari didn’t listen, as soon as she dropped down to the ground and pull what seemed to be Sasha out from under the car she sighed in relief “She’s breathing!” Cody rushed towards the two and got on the ground but soon noticed a pool of blood underneath Sasha’s hand while she came back to consciousness & let out a grunt of discomfort, as Seth made his way towards them he felt a lump in his throat the moment he’d notice his little sister had been shot.

Barbra stood behind Marianna as she covered her mouth as a tear trickled down her face, Cody shook his head as he moved her hand away from the wound & pulled her shirt up to the slightest only to see the gunshot right in the side of her stomach “w-well she’s still breathing! There’s time to bring her to the hospital right?!” Marianna blurted out before coming undone into a mess of emotions “R-Right guys?! It’s n-“ Sasha shook her head as it laid in her bestfriends lap before placing her bloody hand against Marianna’s as she grew the courage to talk “It’s too late for me Mari, I- I already lost enough b-blood.” Cody shook his head but Seth immediately took her away from Mari & held her in his arms “Nonono- It’s not too late! You can’t l-leave me yet damnit, Y-You were supposed to live longer, c’mon just hang tight and let us ta-“ sasha weakly shook her head before turning her attention towards her lover while she somehow stayed composed despite her dying, “I’m sorry Cody, for everything, I—You deserved better, I don’t- I don’t h-hate you.” He shook her head as he came closer to Sasha & Seth while his hands held her face “Your killin’ me sweetheart, I know you don’t hate me, But I should be the one who’s sorry.” He muttered before Barbra finally kneeled down.

“My baby..” she choked out as she stared at the child she gave birth to many years ago die slowly, Randy held Marianna in his arms as he started shedding tears as he watched the girl who thought of him as a father figure suffer. “Mama please don’t..” Sasha frowned before feeling her mother press her head against hers. Everyone Sasha ever loved & cared for was there as she took her last few breaths, She gave Cody one final kiss, Randy one final pat on the back, Seth one final smack upside the head like she used to do when they were kids, Call her mother ‘Mama’ one last time & finally tell Marianna how proud of her she was for being a badass.

Eventually Seth felt his little sister go limp while her eyes were shut, Cody felt his heart completely shatter as he knew nobody could replace his love for Sasha.

8 Months Later

Cody visited Sasha’s grave with a bouquet of flowers that he knew were her favorite & a necklace he got her way back in college. He cleared his throat as he kneeled down into the grass & place the two items down against the stone. He stared at the picture of her that was framed into the grave before huffing.

“How’re you doing doll? Resting easy I hope” he spoke “We miss you like hell, I do, Seth got married, remember Becky? His girlfriend? She’s his wife now, he honored you at the wedding, had a whole speech and everything just for you doll. Marianna isn’t taking it too well, she’s been sitting in your room sometimes, your mom, she’s taking it the worst, but she got you justice, Your guys’ dad went to prison. For good.” He sighed out as he updated the woman on what life was like despite her not even being able to be present to hear him.

“I think about you. A lot, I keep having dreams about what life could have been like if you were still here, Goddamn Sash’ this wasn’t supposed to happen, we were supposed to move away from Miami, get married, live a nice secluded life & I’m so sorry Roman took that chance away from you.” He choked on his words & shook his head “I have somethin’ for you, had it for awhile now..I was gonna give it to you but then..y’know.” He sighed before placing a small box right against the stone & flipping it open showing a custom made engagement ring made just for her.

An engagement ring that was supposed to tie the knot between them forever.

Like I said, not all fairytales have happy endings..

🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤✨🖤

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

[whatisreggieshortfor]

Voyage Stand In

A member of his crew can’t make the voyage. So he send a cousin as a filler. It shouldn’t be a problem that it’s a girl, right?

Graham x MC

Graham was used to his boat running the way he wanted.

Even as his small crew grew with his business and he had to shift to larger vessels, he was used to it running his way.

But when a member of his screw had to stay ashore for the delivery on his baby girl, the crew mate offered a cousin to replace him.

Graham had sighed, figuring that if his mate trusted they’d do the job well then he could, too.

So he waited at the docks for Joey, unsure what the man looked liked, but figuring he looked like the ginger lad Graham had been working with for years.

And then a woman stopped in front of him. Her red waves were wrapped up in a loose braid, strays flying about her face in the morning wind, her green eyes sparkling like morning dew in the grass and freckles dotting her skin like constellations.

Holy mother of god, she was beautiful.

Graham belatedly realized her lips were moving. “Sorry- what?”

She laughed, the sound was so lovely it made the air feel like it was twinkling in his ears, “I said you’re Graham, yeah?”

“Yeah,” He nodded dazedly for a moment, “I don’t have anything to sell just yet, but if ya come back later-“

“What? No-“ she shook her head, “My cousin, Lawson? He said you needed a filler.”

“And he sent a lass?”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow, “What’s that mean, laddie? Think just cause I’m a lady I won’t be able to keep up?”

“Mean no offense,” her beautiful face was already shifting into a scowl as he continued, “Just can’t risk ya getting hurt out there.”

“Right, yeah, well my cousin called in the favor, so I’m here.” She shoulder checked his much larger frame, managing to knock him back a few steps as she shoved past and up the gangway.

Great start to the trip.

Graham kept an eye on Joey, this woman he hadn’t been expecting, to make sure she wouldn’t get hurt. There was absolutely no ulterior motive in keeping her in his periphery. It was unthinkable to believe he just wanted to see her as much as he could.

Joey wasn’t a fan of him, it was clear. One thoughtless comment landed him in the perpetual doghouse. She called him captain sarcastically, rolled her eyes more than any other crew member when he spoke, ignored him if he spoke about anything unrelated to the job they were doing.

She was the first worker he ever had that hated him.

And he felt worse, because every day she showed him how poorly he judged her based on a misogynistic thought.

She never asked for help to pull up the crab traps. Never shied away from the dirtier jobs on deck, never cared about the lads being lads like more feminine types would’ve, unphased that they all slept in the same bunk room.

But what really turned the table in his thoughts was the day the crab trap got stuck in the middle of a storm.

The lads Graham had working for him took turns, hanging each other off the side with the hook as the rain and wind raged on, but for the life of them they couldn’t get it.

Joey walked over, handing Graham the end of a rope, “Hold tight, big guy.”

Before he could ask what he needed the rope for, she had strapped a pair of goggles onto her head and dove off the side of the ship.

“JOEY!!” Graham held tight to the rope as threatened to burn through his grip, pulling back on it as he edged to the port side and looked for her.

Just to see her treading water, “Give it a tug now, you daft tossers!” The crew began hoisting the newly freed traps up, Graham tugging Joey back on deck.

“Have you gone mad!?” He snapped as he helped her to her feet, checking for injuries, “That was the most bloody moronic thing I’ve ever seen!”

She shoved his hands off her, “I get it! You think I’m a proper idiot. Just leave it and when this blimey voyage is over we can go our own ways!” She marched off, presumably to change from her soaked clothes before she could catch hypothermia.

But Graham couldn’t believe she thought he actually believed she was stupid.

Was it stupid? Absolutely.

But was it brave? More than anything Graham had ever seen from his crew.

As most of the crew headed to a late night’s rest, Graham found himself wandering rooms on the ship until he came to the usually crowded mess hall.

It was empty save for her.

Clearing his throat, he expected the daggers she always seemed to shoot his way, but instead she looked miserable. Her nose was red, sniffles emitting as she tightened the blanket around her shoulders, “Say I told you so.” She muttered, he could hear the congestion, “You were right. I shouldn’ta come here.”

“I was-“ He snorted, “Lass, if you thought I was right then you’ve got an emptier head than I do.” Graham moved past her, clicking the kettle on before grabbing a spare blanket from the galley’s storage and wrapping it around her. He ignored the way she shivered as his calloused fingers accidentally brushed her neck, she must’ve been colder than he thought.

When he set the mug in front of her, Joey took it in her hands, “You didn’t think I belonged here when I got here.”

He huffed at himself, knowing she was right, “Yeah. But you’re worth more than half my crew. Shoulda given ya a fair shout to begin with.”

“Thanks.” She sniffled again, but this time she shot him a smile for the first time since he had opened his mouth on shore, “Traps didn’t get damaged, did they?”

“No, they-“ Graham stopped, looking at Joey in the moonlight through the porthole and the strung lights around the room, “Is that why you jumped in? You were worried they’d break?”

“Course.” She blinked, like she was stating the obvious, “Can’t go breaking your equipment, we’d be at a loss out here to fix it.”

Graham huffed an incredulous laugh, shaking his head as he busied himself making her another tea, “Come on, lass, you can rest up for the night in my cabin with my gran’s special sick tea. I’ll head to the bunk room for the night.”

By the time they made it back to the harbor with their haul, Graham was thinking he needed to send Lawson’s wife a thank you card for pulling him away because he had to send Joey in his place.

Heading down the gangway, he asked her to join his crew for the next voyage.

And she agreed, but she winked as she added the condition that he needed to take her for a pint as an apology for his assumptions.

The two of them ignored the comments when she started sharing his cabin on the voyages to come.

Masterlist

[faux-fires]

From the "40 Questions — Meme for Fic Writers": 7, 28 and one of your choice!

Thanks Holly! For the 40 questions for fic writers meme:

#7: Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

this dumb fucking joke from my dragon!fai/kurogane fic, Your Princess is in Another Castle. it's like 10 years old and I don't think anybody following this blog (except my fav scrublord, @mikkeneko) was in it with me, but i still smile to myself reading this fic and if u can't smile at ur own fic, what else is it FOR:

"Oh my god," Kurogane said, automatically, because like most dragons Ashura wasn't wearing any clothes. His knees suddenly felt very weak. "Um," said Fai, his glib tongue seeming to have deserted him. "Hello?" "Can I go?" Yuui asked Ashura. Despairing it was, then. At least he wasn't naked. It was a low bar to meet in terms of presentation, but so far two of the six people in this room weren't making it.

#28: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Easy peasy! #1, montparnasse, because i adore their poetic prose (as exemplified by the intro to my fav of their fics, the Hawkebella On Southerly Winds):

Once, lost-but-not-lost on a windless night at sea, Isabela told a young sailor, “You’ve got to live like everything can hurt you.” The sailor, new and green as a beansprout, said it was sound advice. She didn’t understand that it was not. It was fact, like iron in the blood.

#2, Spicyshimmy - handers fandom will know why, but i love their clever playing around with tone, their Hawke characterisation is so fun and sad, and Fareweel Regality remains one of my fav unreliable narrator stories. I also enjoy their larger ensemble pieces particularly in the Mass Effect fandom.

It didn’t take Bethany long to corner Garrett in the den, after he’d seen both the seneschal and Saemus out with a wink and a nod and a sigh of relief. ‘What on earth was that all about?’ she demanded, eyes alight with pure irritation, the mark of a truly loving sister. ‘Do you want the viscount’s son to think there’s madness in our family? Because that’s certainly how you were acting tonight.’ ‘Better madness than magic, I’d think,’ Garrett said.

And last but not least, #3, mikkeneko, my favourite scrublord. she can be ur angle:

"Hawke, what's going on here?" Merrill took in the scene with wide green eyes. "What did you do?" Hawke's expression was insufferably smug. "I found out how to use the Mirror of Transformation to make extra copies of myself," he said. "And... viola!" "That's the instrument," Varric muttered out of the side of his mouth.

... she can be ur deville....

"Promise me," Kurogane insisted. "I promise," he said. "I'll... do what I have to, to stay alive." So that you'll have something to come back to.

... but mostly, she's ur mikke.

Somewhere lost in the clouded annals of myth, in the vague spaces beyond the edges of the map where only dragons lie, in places unknown and untread by mortal feet, (do not pass Go, do not collect $200), in just such a dim and murky place, resides a tavern. This mysterious inn can only be reached by -- "How did you lot all get here, anyway?" Wei Wuxian asked. "Unmapped tributary of the River of Souls," mumbled Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Ninth Saint to the Serve the King Undying, the Reverend Daughter of Drearburh and Heir to the House of the Ninth. "Secret paths of Yggdrasil," murmured Loki Laufeyson, Shape-Changer, Sly-One, Wizard of Lies, Thief of Giants, Foe of the Gods and Forger of Evil. "Experimental portals powered by the Elder Blood," said Yennefer of Vengerberg, court mage of Aedirn, hero of Sodden, refugee of Nilfgaard, mother of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Lady of Space and Time. "I mean I came here on a donkey, but your things are cool too," said Wei Wuxian.

And ladies' choice, #1: Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

happy endings. eventually. 😎

[geisthouse]

"PTOLEMAEA"

Inspired by Ethel Cain's song Ptolemaea and very loosely follows PD's lore.

CW: Violence, Murder

  I watched a bird fly from one side of the window to the other, landing on a thin tree branch, it bobbed slightly under its weight and then balanced out as the bird hopped closer to the base of the tree. 

I stared out the window from the floorbound mattress. He wrapped me in blankets before he left but the attic was more stuffy than drafty so, I ended up pulling them off of me in my sleep.

It had been a few days since we got there, he didn’t want me going outside but I could leave the attic if I needed to. He hid my shoes on the first day and I haven’t had any luck finding them– I suspect they’re in his truck. I was mad at him for taking them from me but, I guessed we’d be on our way out of this state sooner or later and I could have them back.  My stomach grumbled for the second time since I woke up, but sleep weighed so heavily on my body that I just couldn’t get out of bed. He kept me up half the night ranting about how his business here was taking too long to end and we should’ve been out of here a while ago. I tried to calm him down, but I realized I just had to let him get it out of his system.  When he left he said he’d come back with food, though, it had been hours since then. I sat up too quickly and felt woozy— Fuck, I need food. 

I slowly got up but swayed a bit on my feet and lumbered to the ladder. I had been scared of going up and down it, it was creaky, unfinished wood that’s probably been untouched for years. Somehow, I got down without falling and headed to the kitchen.

The fridge was empty except for a stack of American cheese slices, lunch meat, and two six-packs of beer. I pulled a can from the ring and took the ham and cheese from the shelf. The bread was on the counter and I grabbed one of the three plates from the cabinet. The kitchen was joined with the living room and there were two windows on either side of the wall and a fireplace built into the wall. This would’ve been a nice place for an average person to live if it wasn’t so removed. I made my sandwich, grabbed my beer, and headed out of the kitchen. 

Back upstairs, I sat on the mattress and ate. The attic was a fair size, there was a big dark wooden dresser next to the head of the mattress, and boxes were stacked against the wall closest to the far window. My attic back home was around the same size but it was filled to the brim with my grandmother’s old stuff. My mother never had the time to go through it and the rest of the family (the ones that talked to us, anyway) didn’t think she had anything precious to take. I used to go up there and rifle through her old letters, clothes, and jewelry. I stole one of her lockets when I was about twelve and my father yelled at me for wearing it but, when he died, I wore it to his funeral and every day afterward.

During our stay here, we littered the ground with pill bottles, take-out containers, cigarette butts— all of that bullshit. I realized I didn’t know what time it was. I judged by the shadows on the ground that it would have been around mid-afternoon, the fact that I hadn’t been sure put me on edge. 

I finished my sandwich and put the plate on the floor. I stood, walked to the window, and looked out of it, down at the ground. The tree mostly obscured it, but the sliver of the world I could see wasn’t much of anything: dirt and patches of grass led to a larger woodland. I sighed, leaning my forehead against the glass, it was cool on my skin— a fairly pleasant sensation. My eyes trailed down to the hardwood floor; maybe I’ll go back to sleep. There was a stray pill bottle at my feet, separate from the others in the pile across the room. The label was ripped off but whatever it said before probably wasn’t what was in there anymore. I plucked it from the ground and it gave a low rattle as I opened it. A few pills were left in there, all uniform: white and ovalish. I poured two out and I took it— whatever it was— and washed it down with the rest of the beer. I closed the cap and lay back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling until I drifted off again.

I woke up to the sound of shuffling. He was back. The sun had almost completely set but the remnants of fading blue light would hold on for at least another couple of minutes. I rolled over in bed to see what he was doing; the light coming from the stairs below was just enough to illuminate him, he was looking through one of the boxes.

“Goddammit!” He threw something back into the box.

I shot right up, fighting the fact that my head was spinning,  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He jerked at the sound of my voice but waved me off seconds later, “It’s nothing.”

I put my head in my lap to recoup, “It’s dark out,” I said looking back up, “Where have you been all day?”

“You ask too many questions, you know that?”

“I was just making conversation.”

“Well, don’t.”

“Fine.” I groped in the dark for the little lamp I plugged in at the foot of the bed. My hands found the embossed brass base and clicked it on. I could see his face now, he looked…different. Harsher. Something was behind his eyes and it made him even more guarded than usual. He loomed at the other end of the room, glaring at me. I sank into myself, pulling my knees up to my chest. His frown deepened and his expression turned to obvious anger. He stepped forward. 

“I thought I told you not to go outside.”

“You did…”

“So why’d you do it?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Your feet are dirty.”

I checked the soles of my feet and they were blackened with grime, “My feet are dirty because the floor is dirty.” 

“You’re such a little liar! You could mess up this whole plan– our plan, remember?” He pointed at me, “You’re considered a missing person, they’re saying I kidnapped you– do you want me to go to jail?”

“No, I don’t! Even if I did go out, we’re in the middle of the woods, there’s no one around more miles!”

“Get up.” He demanded.

“What?”

“Stand up.”

I scrambled to my feet, he closed the gap between us and got up in my face. His forehead was uncomfortably sweaty and his pupils were dilated like saucers. I tried softening my tone, “Hey, maybe you should lay down, you don’t look–”

“No,” he lowered his voice but kept the same intensity, “If you wanna leave so bad then do it.”

“What?”

“Do it. Run. Run back to your mama and your piece of shit town where they can laugh and beat the shit out of you for being a fucking freak. I accepted you, I wanted you to come with me because I knew you wouldn’t survive there!”

I could only stutter, trying to tell him that I didn’t want to go. 

“Run, or I’ll fucking kill you!” He yelled, pushing me back onto the mattress. I didn’t know if he was serious or not and I didn’t want to find out. I bolted back up and rushed to the ladder behind him. I didn’t know how I climbed down that thing so fast but I hit the floor in no time and started down the other set of stairs. 

That’s when I heard him following me.

He was shouting my name along with every epithet he could call me. I stumbled to the kitchen in hopes of finding his keys. I thanked God for the first time in a while because there they were sitting on the countertop. I grabbed them and headed in the opposite direction towards the door. 

He was at the bottom of the stairs. I undid the deadbolt and the lock and swung open the door. The cool night breeze cut through me and I felt a swell of ecstasy, but it came as soon as it went, his truck wasn’t anywhere to be seen. It was dead black out there at night and he usually parked in front of the door just in case we had to make a quick exit. I was about to book it to the road on the slim chance I’d run into another car, but I felt his big arms wrap around my middle and hoist me up. I started to scream and I couldn’t stop. I dropped the keys on the porch as he dragged me back inside.

I wriggled in his grasp as he carried me into the kitchen. He let go suddenly and I dropped to the floor with a hard thud. I struggled back up and tried to run passed him but he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to the ground. Before I could get up again, he knelt over top of me, ‘Stay down’ he kept saying. I thrashed and kicked but he got my arms under him. I whined out a series of ‘Please’, ‘Don’t do this’, and ‘I love you’. He barked at me to shut up and, when I wouldn’t, he put his hands around my neck. I pleaded with him but he squeezed his hands tight. I couldn’t breathe– I couldn’t speak– I couldn’t think. It couldn’t have been for more than two minutes but it felt truly infinite.  

And then, he let up. He took all of his weight off me and got up from the floor. The sudden rush of air and lightness was a shock to my system; I knew I needed to move but my body and my brain weren’t working in tandem anymore. He wasn’t far away, I heard drawers open and shut. I was able to sit up on my elbows but the clanging stopped and his shadow bore over me. I braced myself to look up– he gripped a kitchen knife. I screamed no and he dropped back to his knees, held me to the floor, and thrust the knife down.

It pierced my stomach. The obtrusion stung– almost burned. He left it there for a moment as if he was unsure of what he was doing. 

There is a knife in me. 

He tightened his grip on it and pulled it out; blood came with it. I groaned. He brought it up…and down again. Warm blood filled my throat and mouth and I spewed it out. I couldn’t lift my head. I felt the knife everywhere on my torso, and then the feeling faded away– it stopped at some point but I didn’t know when. Either way, it was done, I wasn’t breathing, I was still, I was dead. My eyes, however, were open. The ceiling and part of the counter was all there was for me. 

An hour passed and nothing else happened.

He reappeared over me, covered in blood from his face to his shirt. He had a ghastly look on his face. He kneeled to the ground and was struggling with something around me. He pulled off my shirt and did the same with my jeans and underwear. He left and took my clothes with him. And, again, that was it for a while. 

The next time he came back, he looked considerably filthier. His nails were caked in black dirt and there was a large patch of sweat on the front of his shirt. He lifted me and brought me outside. 

There was a fire going, orange light flickered off the trees, making living shadows on the ground. He put me down a ways away from the flame, my head lolled to the side, facing it. There was a shovel lodged in the ground next to a pile of dirt. He picked up my clothes which were lying in a heap on the ground and tossed them into the fire. He watched them burn.

He didn’t notice my eyes on him. 

He pulled up the shovel and began to dig again however, gave up after a short while. 

He came to me, gawking like he noticed something strange. He moved his hand just below my collar and tore my locket from me, examining then pocketing it.

He took me up and placed me in my grave. The sun was starting to come up, it was as blue-gray as the sunset before. He began to shovel dirt over me, all without closing my eyes.

[latte-to-go]

the art of loving you [alcina dimitrescu]

summary ━━━ sometimes, it was difficult for you to tell if what you and lady dimitrescu, or alcina as she has allowed you to call her, had was love. it remained a lingering thought in your mind as her daughters continued to call you their mother’s ‘human play-thing’ and most days, you let it not get to you. but, it was difficult to ignore that fateful night and the lady of the house had easily noticed something was upsetting her little pet.

pairing ━━━ alcina dimitrescu x reader.

words ━━━ 1612

fandom ━━━ resident evil.

warnings ━━━ pure fluff, honestly. but, it has some hints of nsfw vibes but it doesn't go into them.

author's note ━━━ lady dimitrescu owns my heart and I have spent so much time reading fanfics about her that I just needed to write one of my own. who knew a tall sexy vampire lady would be what broke my hiatus and brought me back to tumblr? but, I am here to stay and I am so excited to write more reader inserts! and to continue to fill requests! for now, my requests are open! but, I will probably write a lot more for alcina as well! so, I haven't finished resident evil village yet because of how busy I am with work and that might make the characters a little out of character! but I couldn't wait to write about alcina! hopefully, I will have the game finished soon! some things have been spoiled for me already, but a lot of the game is still unknown because I am still in the very beginning of the game where ethan just gets to the village. but, I still hope you all enjoy this one-shot! it's just fluff between the reader and our lady!

DARK CLOUDS LOOMED AGAINST THE HORIZON, matching the catastrophic thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind as you numbly flipped the pages to the book you had tried so hard to distract yourself with. But, your mind had not retained any of the words written on the yellowed pages as your mind stayed on the woman that held every inch of your heart. With a sigh, you turned your gaze out the window instead. The window pane was cold to the touch, courtesy of the snow that remained a constant of the land.

It had only been two years since you had arrived at Castle Dimitrescu ━━ a mistake, truly. At least, at first, it had been as you stumbled across the maidens that the grandiose home belonged to. It should have been the last night of your life, but the lady of the house had taken a keen interest in you. You had not understood it at first, but you had grown attached to Alcina Dimitrescu and her… mysterious ways. Perhaps, you would even go as far as to call it love at first sight. And, you had thought she had felt the same way with her sweet words and burning touches. But, then doubt had become to creep into the dark crevices of your relationship with the woman.

It was often her daughters teased you, complaining about how they couldn’t stand to hear the beat of your heart. But, their mother had explicitly forbidden them from touching you. Though, you did not feel unsafe around them and had grown to trust and like each of them. But, their words tended to hurt whenever they referred to you as their mother’s play-thing. It was as if there was a timer on your life and it wouldn’t be long till Alcina grew bored of your presence and decided it was your time to join the dead.

“The day has come and gone and you have yet to leave our bedroom,” the regal voice belonging to Alcina echoed throughout the room, startling you at your spot in the window sill. She stood tall with her golden eyes watching your every move, making you hold your breath as you waited for her to speak. With long strides, she quickly reached the window as she looked down at you with an unreadable expression. Regardless of your height, you always dwarfed in comparison to her as she stood taller than most she came across. But, she looked even taller whilst you sat. She leaned down, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. When she pulled back, her gaze met yours. “Has something happened?”

“No,” the word quickly left your lips as your felt your cheeks burn at the sudden closeness. Her scent of her old vintage lavender perfume with hints of blood filled your nose ━━ the old mixture had become a comfort for you. With a clear of your throat, you continued to speak. “Everything is fine.”

A hum left her red lips, seemingly vibrating every sense of your being. With two fingers, she trailed against your jaw as she continued to stare at your parted lips. “You should know better than to lie to me, my darling.”

“I do not wish to bother you with my human problems,” you muttered bitterly, pushing her fingers off your skin. For a moment, her eyes flashed with an unknown emotion but she did not utter a word as she took a step back to create space between the two of you.

“So, something has happened,” Alcina commented, standing to her feet as she towered over you again. It made you feel small in every sense as a wave of tears made their presence known. Hiding them from her was futile as she continued to watch, making you sniffle as you tried to wipe them away. “Tell me, who has hurt you?”

“No one.” It wasn’t like you to throw her daughters underneath the bus because of some harsh words. After all, you needed to be stronger than that.

Her hand reached forward, wiping away the stray tear with her thumb before she caressed your cheek. It took everything in you to not lean into her touch, refusing to place a kiss against her tender skin. Despite your lack of reaction, Alcina moved closer as she took a seat on the window sill. It was difficult due to her size, but she made it work as she continued to run her thumb against your cheek. “Then, why the tears?”

She waited for you to speak, listening to the shaky breaths that left your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I’ve been having doubts,” you confessed, biting the inside of your cheek as you met the woman’s eyes. “About… us.”

“What do you doubt about us?” She asked softly. And, for the first time, you could hear worry in her tone as she slowed her movements. Her sharp gaze had softened, lingering on your saddened expression.

With a deep breath, you took her hand off your cheek as you held it close. Her hands were larger than an average person’s, but you still fit perfectly in them. “I fear that you do not love me the way that I love you,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on your interlocked hands. “I feel as if I am something that you use to pass the time. Someone to warm your bed at night for the time being before you get bored and move to the next.”

“People say I’m heartless,” she started off slowly, taking your words deep into her heart as her gaze flickering to your hands as well. “They call me a monster ━━ a frightening legend that mothers tell their misbehaving children. And, for a long time, I believed in those legends that painted me as a cruel vicious beast. That is, until I met you, my darling.”

Her words made you look up, daring to meet her eyes as she stared at you unblinking. Her beauty had always taken your breath away, making her perfect to you at anything that matters. Still, you remained quiet.

“Perhaps, I did not love you at first,” Alcina confessed, ever so slightly tightening her grip on your hand as she let out a heavy sigh. “But, you came into my life like a storm and I had learned how to dance in the rain. Regardless of what you think, my love for you is true. My darling, you make me feel whole ━━ the missing piece I had unknowingly been searching for.”

“Do you really mean that?” you asked softly, barely finding your voice as you faced the woman. Her words were like honey, dripping sweetness onto your tongue as you tried your hardest to believe her.

Her free hand caressed your cheek, moving closer to you before she left a chaste kiss against your forehead. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No, but…”

“Cease your doubts, my love,” Alcina said, staying inches away from your lips as her breath fanned against your cheeks. She whispered your name, letting out a deep sigh as she took in your scent. “What can I do to convince you that my love for you is true? To convince you that I want to spend the rest of our days together? To convince you that my heart yearns for you and only you?”

"Alcina…” you whispered softly, closing your eyes as her lips hovered over the skin of your neck. She didn’t move, waiting for some indication from you. “I love you more than anything in this world and… I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. If you would have me, that is.”

The soft words caused Alcina to open her eyes as she faced you, showing no emotion as usual. It made it hard for you to predict her next move as you waited for her to say anything. But, then a soft smile presented itself to you as she leaned in close. “Of course I would have you, my darling,” she whispered, meeting your eyes. “I would do anything for you.”

Her words brought a smile to your lips, pushing you forward as you engulfed her lips with your own. She was quick to pull you into her lap as she held you close, kissing back with the same intensity that you gave her. It made you feel warm with her love as any doubts you had begun to vanish as she held you. There was no doubt that Alcina Dimitrescu was hopelessly in love with you as you were with her. Yet, the sweet moment had ended too soon.

There was a knock at the door, causing a deep growl to leave Alcina’s lips as she pulled away from yours. It left you breathless as the two of you looked to the door to see Cassandra. She wore a sadistic grin, moving deeper into the room as she regarded the two of you. “Forgive me for interrupting,” she cooed, stealing a glance at your flushed expression with playful vice. “But, he’s back.”

A frown marred your features, causing you to glance back at Alcina and see the irritation blooming. “Who is back?”

With a sigh, Alcina looked to you as she forced a smile to her lips. She moved forward, leaving a chaste kiss against your lips that had become stained the same color as hers. “Only a nuisance that you needn’t worry about,” she whispered softly, moving to stand to her feet. “I shall be back soon, my love.”

At her words, you smiled. “I will be here waiting for your return.”

[jasontoddswhitestreak]

something more

(originally posted by alpha-bug)

summary: where pietro confesses his feelings to you without actually confessing them to you, through a necklace. inspired by this prompt list.

content warning: pietro maximoff x fem!reader (i’ll try to write more gender neutral fics in the future!) obviously set in a world where he survives and civil war doesn’t happen. (friends to lovers, mutual pining and pietro being a sap.)

note: okay so this is my first fic in a while so i’m sorry if this sucks </3 i want to write more pietro/peter fics so please send requests ! (also lemme know if you can guess the movie bucky was confused about !)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

masterlist

"You're staring." Wanda points out, idly watching the older twin stare at the person who clouded his thoughts, not that Wanda needed to read his mind to know that.

"Don't you have something better to do?" Pietro scoffed, unwillingly looking away to glance at his sister. She chuckled, turning away from her brother to check on the pot on the stove, before continuing to chop the vegetables scattered on the chopping board.

"Don't you?" She simply asked, humming to the song playing out loud from her phone, Pietro's eyes were drawn back to you.

You were explaining the plot of a movie to Bucky who stared at the screen in pure confusion. "I don't get it? He killed her but he loved her?" Bucky asked you, in response you shook your head exasperated. "You saw her give birth right after, how could she be dead if she was naming her kids Buck?" You asked, glancing up when you heard the footsteps of someone approaching you.

"You're not replacing me with this old man, right?" Pietro teased, moving to sit next to you, reclining back on the couch, arm around your waist. You rolled your eyes at what he said, automatically leaning into him as the three of you continued to watch the movie playing on the big screen in front of you. The two of you barely noticed when Bucky decided to leave, too caught up with one another to bother caring about what's going on in your surroundings. You pushed him away from you when he tried to steal the m&ms you were currently snacking on only for him to pour most of the packet into his mouth.

"You disgust me Maximoff." You scoffed, biting back the smile forcing its way up. "And you love it Prinţesă." Pietro retorts, his eyes meeting yours. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing could come to mind, it was common for Pietro to randomly call you nicknames but that doesn't mean you were used to it, especially when he'd use pet-names.

Your friendship with Pietro came as a surprise to the rest of the Avengers years ago due to the differences in your personality but if you asked any of them what they thought about your friendship now they'd complain about how clueless the two of you are to the other person's feelings.

Somehow in the chaos that the two of you called your 'friendship', the line between platonic feelings and romantic feelings blurred. Pietro isn't the type of guy to steer away from romance but this situation was entirely different to anything he experienced. He cant just tell his closest friend that he loved you, he couldn't tell you how when he holds you in his arms it pains him to let go. How could he tell you that? After everything that happened to him in the past, the wall he built around his emotions to protect himself began to crumble and you were the cause of it. Pietro always struggled to talk about his feelings, his past. He felt the urge to protect himself and his twin from anything that could hurt them, he didn't want to make the same mistake again.

The unintentional movie night led to the two of you continuing to hanging out in Pietro's room hours later. It was your nightly ritual to watch an episode or two of a show that Pietro usually wouldn't want to watch before the two of you go to bed. Pietro was in the far end of his room, fumbling with something in the palm of his hand while you sat comfortably in the middle of his bed, head resting on one of his pillows as you set up the show on the laptop.

"For someone as quick as you, you sure are taking your sweet time doing whatever it is you're doing."

Pietro glanced back at you in surprise, almost like he forgot what he was supposed to be doing, too busy staring at the dainty chain tangled in the palm of his hands, with a small engagement ring at the end, in place of a pendant capturing all of Pietro's attention. It was fit for a petite woman. The silver was slightly scratched. Two slightly larger silver stones surrounded a slightly larger stone, although quite dull at first glance the engraving on the inside showed was still noticeable.

"I'm in no rush, dragoste mea." He chuckles, shoving the necklace into his pocket before moving to take his shirt off to put on a different one while continuing to speak. Your eyes followed his movements, subtly admiring his body as his muscles unintentionally flexed which resulted in you feeling your cheeks heat up, quickly looking away to not get caught checking out one of your best friends.

"You know I still don't know how I feel about Vision hanging around my sister." Pietro confesses, his overprotectiveness towards his younger sister evident as he continues to replay what occurred during dinner hours ago, Wanda confessing she wouldn't mind moving to a rural neighbourhood with Vision instead of staying at the Avengers Headquarters.

"People can't control who they fall in love with Pietro." You sighed tiredly not realising the irony behind your words, it wasn't the first time Pietro mentioned his hesitation towards the Android.

"People can't, robots can." He scoffed, walking to the dresser to put away his shirt, now wearing a pale blue shirt instead of the charcoal grey T-shirt he was previously wearing.

He moved to the bed, sitting beside you before shifting around to get comfortable. Your hand reaches out to the laptop to begin the episode only for Pietro's hand to place his above yours, stopping you.

"Since we're on this subject..." he paused to pull the necklace from his pockets before holding the necklace out towards you, letting the ring dangle from the chain between the two of you, twisting and turning because of the sudden movements.

You glanced at Pietro in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. He then pulls the hand that was covered by his own and turning it so your palm faced upwards, dropping the necklace in your hand. You held the necklace between your fingers, admiring the gems on the ring before noticing the engraving etched on the inside of the engagement band.

"I+O?" You read out the engraving in confusion, eyes meeting Pietro's soft gaze. He paused for a bit, struggling to put together a sentence that wouldn't cause the wall he created to completely collapse.

"Irina and Oleg, my parents. This was my mother's engagement ring. It was apart of the few belongings they've managed to find after what happened." He gently takes the necklace from you, signalling you to turn away from him so he can put it around your neck. Gently pushing all your hair to the side you felt goosebumps rise wherever Pietro's fingers grazed on your skin, the familiar heat rising in your cheeks once again.

You were secretly relieved that he couldn't see your reaction, the unspoken tension between the two of you currently was unbearable. You looked down at the ring, twirling it around with ur fingers while Pietro continued to speak.

"We decided that Wanda should keep our father's ring since he barely acknowledged me as his son, let alone a person." Pietro chuckles dryly.

Pietro turns you to face him, palm resting on your left cheek. "It looks good on you Draga Mea." He compliments you, eyes glancing down to your lips ever so often. "Why did you decide to give it to me?" You whispered, struggling to find your own voice.

Pietro's mouth curved into a smile, his thumb gently stroking your face

"Can't you tell?" He asked.

"Hmmm i think I'm going to have to hear you say it." You teased, smiling up at him, arms sliding around his neck pulling him closer towards you. He rolled his eyes feigning annoyance before telling you what you wanted to hear.

The next morning Wanda lightly knocked on her brother's door, wondering why he wasn't at breakfast. Waiting a couple moments for a response Wanda slowly opened the door only to be met with with the two of you lying in bed in each other’s arms,  the laptop ended up at the edge of the bed as you completely forgot about it after the events of last night. Pietro had his arms tightly wrapped around your waist while your head rested on his chest, the two of you smiling contently.

"They're good for each-other." Wanda whispers to her partner who stood beside her.

"They are indeed."

[night-market-if]

Paper Lanterns Part 25

Paper Lanterns is a community based IF game here on Tumblr.  I need something to fuel the creative fires while I chip away at The Night Market demo, and I want to give you all a little something in the meantime.  Here’s how it will work.

I will post a snipped under the cut every few days.  At the end of the post will be three options.  Comment below or send me an ask if you would rather be anonymous, over which route you would like to see.  I will tally them up and write the majority option and post it in the following days. From there, we repeat the process until we, as a community, have crafted our story.

Please reblog and share this with others.  The more people we have participating, the more fun I think this can be for us.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 under the cut

Winner of the last vote: Let Malcolm take care of you.

You felt yourself relax against the pillows, your own hand coming up to ensure that he kept his placed on your cheek.  “I mean,” you grin, “It was pretty impressive.  The way I handled myself in there.”

Malcolm snorted. “Oh, I’m sure.  Heroic, even. Rushing in there with absolutely no plan and, I would like to add, no money even if they did have a bail set for her.”  Sighing, Malcolm pulled away, but just as you were about to protest at the lack of contact, he picked up your hand and pressed your knuckles to his lips.  “Seriously, what did you hope for with that?”

“That my natural charm would see me through.”

“I’ve known you for quite a few years, Button.  You’re not as charming as you think you are.”

You grin at the light jab. It was something he used to tell you all the time.  Back in the early days before you two were together.  Back when he still thought you had no interest in him and was trying his hardest to play it cool.  Malcolm had been less confident then.  Still trapped in a body that he didn’t claim as his own. Still dealing with a mother who never wanted a son.

“Is Hazel really okay?” you ask after a moment.  You didn’t think the image of her being led out of the shop by the Velvet Guards was one you would ever forget. The fear in her eyes had been potent. It reminded you too heavily of the night her mother died.

He nodded. “She is.  A little rattled, I think, but dealing.  I told her to stay here for a bit. Everything is sorted and Tandri shouldn’t be a problem, nor the Velvet Guard but…” he shrugged.

“How did you do it? Honestly.”

Something flickered across Malcolm’s eyes.  It was a spark you had seen a few times before. One that always let you know you were getting too close.  Usually, you pressed.  You pressed and pressed until a fight broke out between you two, and it left both of you as nothing more than a festering ball of anger.  It was the initial response you had in the moment but maybe you were too tired for the fight. Or maybe everything else finally won out, and you just wanted to pretend for a while.

Holding your hand tightly, he looked down at you. “I love you.’

You startled a little at the admission.  Not because you thought he no longer did, but because it felt heavier this time. As if he needed you to know. That it was more important than anything.

“What did you do?” your eyes narrow.

Sighing, Malcolm tapped your hip and helped you scoot over in the cramped bed.  So many nights had been spent practically on top of each other, snoring in each other's ear because he didn’t want to spend the money on something bigger. That, and neither of you could figure out how to haul a larger mattress through the tiny front door.

Settling in beside you, Malcolm wraps one arm around your shoulder, curling your sore body into his until your head rests just below his chin.  His sweater was soft as you tug at it idly.  Hazel must have whipped something up for you to take because you knew you should be in a bit more pain than you were, given that you were stabbed.  But here, lying in his arms, you couldn’t imagine why you would even complain.

“What happened to the guy?” you ask.  There was no need to reference which one.  You wondered if Malcolm had seen the guard stab you or had just found your body crumpled on the floor.

Carding his fingers through your hair, Malcolm turned his lips towards you, pressing them against your temple and holding you tight.  “Did I ever tell you why I fell in love with you?” You couldn’t help notice how he hadn’t answered.  You didn’t care either.

“No,” you whisper.

“It was stupid,” he said, his chest rumbling with laughter.  “It was when you were trying to quit smoking.  I think it was day three or four and you were pacing the back halls of that shitty little tavern you like.  The Terrible Clam?”

“Pathetic Clam,” you correct. Though saying it out loud you realized how not better that was.

“Right,” he snickered. “Anyway, you were pacing the back halls, running a hole in the damn floor.  I remember wandering back there, and you were mumbling to yourself, pulling at your hair and tapping your lips.  And I just stood there. Watching you.  And I realized, I love this idiot.  You looked crazed, but you were trying so damn hard not to walk out and take the cigarette some random guy offered you, and I just felt so fucking proud of you for holding out.  You looked beautiful in that moment.”

Turning, you lift your eyes to him, watching as his own gaze was far off. Lost in a memory of a much younger you, going through a smoke withdrawal that would haunt you to this day.  “If I remember correctly, later that night you got pissed at me, took a cigarette and threw it at my feet and told me to fucking blacken my lungs.”

Malcolm smirked. “You can get rather annoying when you’re in the throes of one of your dramas. And I more than made up for it later.”

“Only because you felt bad that Hazel’s fucking cat had shredded the shit out of my leg.”

Flopping your head back onto his chest, you settle against him.  The setting sun came in from the large windows, drifting across the two of you in amber light.  The rich smell of kafe drifted from his kitchens and somewhere, you could hear the familiar sounds of Hazel humming.  It was perfect.  Absolutely perfect.  And sent a lump careening up your throat.

“Malcolm, I’m in over my head,” you choke out, feeling what you knew was on the horizon began to shake through you.

“I know.”

“What am I going to do?”

He held you impossibly tighter.  “What we always do in these situations. Survive.”

“I didn’t get the key. The Baron is going to…” he kisses you then.  Twisting around, he kisses you, pressing you back into the pillows and pinning you to the bed. Desperately, you reached out for him, tugging him close and feeling the way his hips slot against your own.  It was messy, full of teeth and tears you hadn’t realized you had been crying and every inch of you aches with fear and uncertainty and the overwhelming need to just beg him to be in your life again. Beg yourself to let it all happen.

When he pulls away, he cupped your face between his palms.  “We are going to get through this,” he whispers.  “I’m not letting you do this alone anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that for tonight, I want you here. I want you in my bed. I want to have dinner with Hazel and I want us to be a family again. And then I want to send her to the the guest room, pin you to the nearest surface, and worship every damn inch of your body because I’ve missed it more than anything else in this world. I’m done with this, Button.  I let you go once and I don’t want to do it again.”

Voting closed! Part 26 here

Yes. Yes to all of it.

Gently tell him no. You need to go fix things with the Baron of the Mists.

Tell him there will be plenty of time for that.  Both of you need to go deal with the key and the Baron of the Mists.

If you haven't seen, Chapter Two of the Night Market is now out! It is linked below if you're interested. Reblogs and feedback are also love! Also, there is a Paper Lanterns discord now. Click the link below to join.

Patreon || Ko-fi || Demo || Discord

[quicksilverrwrites]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you can’t sleep and neither can peter, but at least you both know exactly how to comfort one another. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, fluff, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: y/n is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.

It’s eleven-thirty, and you can’t sleep.

Your thoughts shift to your lessons in the morning; to how tired you’re going to be; to that iced coffee you’d had while getting your assignment done after class; about how that drink was definitely a bad idea considering how you’re lying awake now. It had tasted good then, and it had given you the energy you needed to fire out five thousand words in the span of a few hours… but now you regret it.

Sighing, you roll over. Your eyes glaze over the objects on the nightstand beside your bed. Your alarm clock, rectangular in size and wooden in material, glares at you. Eleven thirty six. Eleven thirty seven. The time seems to spiral, and you realise that you might as well do something with yourself if you’re awake.

You eye the books stacked on top of the alarm clock; you’d been reading one before and it had bored you half to death, so you can’t bring yourself to pick up any again. What else? What else?

Your gaze settles upon the picture frame on the dresser next to your nightstand, and you let out a sigh as you settle upon the silver-haired speedster within it. You’re next to him, a mere blur since he’d sneakily taken the camera from your hand and taken a picture with an expression that radiates cheekiness, but you’d liked the picture enough to keep it.

You’ve got a few more picture frames scattered around your room—photos of you with Scott, Jean, Jubilee and Kurt. Even some of Charles. You might not be close, but he is your uncle, after all. He’s still family.

And yet it’s Peter you keep your eyes on. It’s Peter's mischievous aura which calls to you across the room.

What would he be doing right now? He’s probably playing video games or practicing on one of his guitars. You’d been surprised to see him play well; you’d been surprised to see that he actually had the attention span it takes to successfully learn an instrument. You would know: your mother used to nag you about practicing the piano to perfection. Practice makes perfect, she’d always said, and yet she’d always left out how much energy it took to practice in the first place.

Is it too late to reach out to him? The two of you have a specific way of speaking to one another across distances by now, although even the thought of doing such a thing due to the time seems rude. Your mother had always told you that it was your duty to be polite, and your father had by example. You think you picked it up from him rather than her, but—

Don’t think of him right now. Don’t think of what happened. Don’t.

As if in an effort to push the memory of that night from your head, you move. You pull the drawer attached to your nightstand open to reveal a mess of junk inside, but what you need—and what you spy—is a pen and paper. You pull it from the drawer and slam the nightstand drawer shut quietly, and after, you get to work writing:

Are you up? Can I come over?

Your fingers buzz with azure energy as you feel your mutation working in your favour. A tiny portal of blue opens before you, one you could make larger if you wished but one which you keep small for now. It’s no larger than a letterbox would be, and the faint sound of music from the other side tells you that Peter is very much awake.

You slip the note through the portal, and then you leave it open as you wait.

When you receive no response for a solid fifteen seconds but can hear movement on the other side, you wonder if this was a mistake after all. It’s too late, you scold yourself, mentally preparing for rejection. Oh, god, this is going to be awkward. What if he—

An empty Twinkie box falls at your feet.

You blink at it, momentarily confused, and then you pick it up. You glance about the dessert’s display as you begin to turn the box over in your hands. Nothing on the front, but on the back—

Scrawled in pink glitter pen—probably his sister’s—, the box reads on the back: Yeah. Come through.

You grin lazily as you set the box down on your bed and extend the portal with your fingers like you’re prying open a heavy door. The orange light from Peter’s basement slips through and becomes one with the light of your dorm, which is yellow and warm with your room’s wooden accented walls and flooring. And as you slip through the portal and your bare feet touch the soft tartan carpet of his room, you let the portal shut with a soft shum behind you—

But Peter Maximoff does not look his best. In fact, he looks downright miserable.

His eyes are red as if he’s been crying, his hair is messy—messier than usual, at least—and he’s wearing a band tee and some tartan pajama bottoms that look intended for comfort rather than style. You were about to say hey, but you stop in your tracks. You tilt your head as you look at him.

Peter is still. It’s strange, especially since he’s usually so eccentric. He blurts out, “What?”

You frown, momentarily stuck for what to say. “Nothing,” you respond, but it doesn’t seem right.

Peter stares at you. You stare at him. You’re both quite similar, so it strikes you then that you both know that you’re each not telling each other something.

“You okay?” You ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

Peter shrugs nonchalantly. It’s a rigid movement. “Yeah,” he says, far too confidently to be true. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You narrow your eyes on him. His tone of voice has all but solidified your suspicions. “Okay, first of all,” you say, crossing the small space of the room between you and the sofa, “you use a very distinctive tone when you lie.” You settle down on the sofa as you cross your legs under you. “Second, your eyes are really red. Have you been—?”

“No.”

Crying, you were about to ask, but he cut you off. You narrow your eyes again.

Peter sighs and averts his gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Tonight’s just… not a good night.”

You press your lips together as sympathy wells in your eyes. “Why not?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“That makes two of us."

Peter inhales deeply, and before you know it, he’s sitting on the sofa next to you. You’re used to how fast he moves by now. Something warms your heart in the way he sits with his body angled towards you. Like he’s opening himself up to you.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He asks.

You glance at the other end of the sofa and then back to him. You’re reminded of how he took the sofa to sleep on that night after you guys got caught in the rain. “Here?”

Peter’s brows rise. “Is my basement not fancy enough for you?”

You know he’s joking even despite the lack of humour in his tone, and you let out a small huff of laughter as you flash him a lazy smile. You sit back on the sofa, reaching out your hand to intertwine it with his. Things between you are still blooming after your first date, but you both feel comfortable enough to do this. Peter’s fingers wrap around yours as he starts drawing patterns on the back of your hand with his free one.

“I just mean,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the backdrop of quiet music, “won’t your mom mind?”

“She didn’t mind when you stayed over last time.”

Your lips quirk upwards in gentle amusement. “That time you slept on the couch. This time I was thinking, I mean, if you want to, then maybe—”

“Oh,” Peter murmurs. His head lifts upwards in a sort of understanding motion. “Yeah, I mean… ah, I can deal with whatever safe sex talk she wants to give me in the morning.”

Your cheeks flush red. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant maybe we could…” Oh, god, embarrassment— “cuddle.”

Peter grins. “Cuddle, huh?” He pauses, until— “Okay,” he murmurs, reaching an arm around the back of the couch to wrap around you. “I guess I could be down for cuddling.”

You snicker softly as you lean into his touch, your head resting against his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me why you looked so upset when I arrived?”

Peter tenses. “It wasn’t because of you, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Mm,” you murmur, “I think I’m confident enough in our relationship to know that your reaction when seeing me is generally excitement rather than the dread that accompanies sad under eyes and red markings around them.”

He pauses for a few seconds before he lets out a long breath of defeat. “That obvious, huh?”

“Mm,” you murmur, looking up at him. “A little.”

His lips twist to the side as he lowers his gaze. “I was thinking about my dad.”

It’s your turn to pause now, looking up at him in a way you didn’t before. You assess every detail of his body again: the way his shoulders slump, the way his head hangs low, the way his hair falls in the way of his view and his eyes are heavy with something you haven’t seen in him before. He’s usually so full of life.

Is this what he’s hiding deep down?

“Tell me about it,” you say softly.

Peter grimaces. “It’s a long story, and the stupid thing is it’s mostly my fault.”

Frowning, you sit up and face him. “I don’t believe that.”

Peter lets out a humourless laugh that might be bitter if he showed a hint of anger, but he doesn’t. “It’s true. The only time I’ve ever been too slow and it’s in finding the most…”

He trails off, pulling his arm away from around you so that they both now rest in his lap. He continues, “It’s a mess.”

“Start from the beginning."

So he explains, if not vaguely: about trying to find his father, about finding a house empty and police arriving on the scene. Peter had fled at the sight of them, and—

“His name’s Magneto,” he admits. “Erik Lehnsherr. You’ve probably… seen him on TV or something."

Suddenly, it all adds up. You weren’t at school to see what happened with Apocalypse, but you’ve heard about it from your friend group. Peter doesn’t talk about it very much, and now you know why; had he been part of that whole adventure because of his father? He hadn’t been involved with Xavier’s School before, that much you know.

You suck in a breath. Okay, Y/N, push the fact that his dad’s a known terrorist aside— “Does he know?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I had the chance to tell him and I didn’t. I screwed it up. And now I’m right back where I was before all of it, because I have no clue where he is and no way of telling him the truth. I couldn’t even do it for Wanda.”

“Hey,” you murmur, your fingers moving to cup his cheeks. “Fight or flight, right? It’s normal. To see him right in front of you—to have to muster up the courage to tell him? Knowing what a change that would be for you? Peter, that’s normal.”

Peter’s eyes well with softness as he listens to you, gazes upon you, and you think you’ve never seen him look so vulnerable as he lowers his head to your shoulder. He takes in a shaky breath; wraps his arms around you; pulls you into his lap—

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your shirt. It’s not his shirt this time; you’re wearing a pyjama set that consists of blue silk shorts and a top. “Not sure I believe you, but thanks, Y/N.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you believe me?”

Peter takes a deep breath. “Aside from mind control? Not sure.”

You press your lips together and begin to stroke his hair. “To be honest,” you murmur, “I’m not sure I’d believe you if you tried to tell me something similar about my father, either.”

Peter lets out a choked laugh. “Maybe that’s why we work together.”

Your lips curve upwards, still stroking his hair. His face is still buried in your shoulder. “Maybe,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head.

Peter shifts so that he’s leaning against the back of the sofa and you’re in his lap again. You turn so that you’re straddling his waist, but your fingers find his jaw to cup the skin there. Your thumb brushes soothingly against his skin.

“You mean a lot to me,” Peter murmurs, staring up at you. It’s almost as if the music in the room has stopped; it’s almost as if the two of you are the only souls left in existence. His brows are slightly raised and there is awe in his voice as he says, “I don’t really believe you’re real half the time.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Definitely real, Peter. Definitely here.”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone riddled with amusement, “and here of all places. You could be anywhere. You’re like, perfect and—”

“Ssh,” you murmur, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you.”

Peter tilts his head up towards you, a silent request for consent, and you kiss him in answer.

He wraps his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss, your tongue slipping out to meet his own. He makes a low, guttural noise between pleasure and content at the feeling of it, and your free hand clutches at his shirt as your other hand remains at his jaw.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, whether it's on the sofa or in his bed, but in those moments together there’s nothing carnal about it. Your touches are soft and comforting rather than lustful and yearning, and as much as you’ve thought about him that way before, you know that now’s not the time.

Tonight, you both need this. Tonight, your sole purpose is to be there for one another.

“And for the record,” Peter murmurs between kisses, his words random and uncalculated, “I think your tragic backstory’s way worse than mine.”

[coffee--writes]

The Message on the Wall

Pairing: James Potter x gn!Reader - Marauders x Reader Content

Word Count: 5.9k (jdklfdh im sorry) 

Warnings: Underage Drinking, Implications of... yeah. I think that’s about it. 

Requested: Yes, a long time (i feel bad for only getting to it but i hope the nonnie stuck around to see this piece) by an anon who asked for James x Reader with childhood best friends to lovers trope. 

Summary: In which, James Potter was busy writing himself a message on the wall but was too blind to read what he had to say. 

Pictures. 

In actuality they were only images. For Muggles, they stood stagnant, for James Potter they moved slightly. 

But in deeper meaning pictures were moments in time captured in a frame. They were a personal reminder of things that were, things that used to be and anything else that didn’t fall into one of the other two categories. 

James Potter adored pictures. His room was littered with them. A handful were of Quidditch players and Tutshill Tornados merchandise. One picture of him and his parents sat on the nightstand beside his bed. But adjourned on the wall to the left was a mostly blank wall. One small Tornados banner was pinned against the soft red paint and in the middle a picture he was particularly fond of. 

The film captured James at the age of four. A broom was clutched in his left hand and a toothy smile on his face as the wind rustled his hair causing it to stick up more than it already did. Beside him was you, your eyes crossed and your tongue licking a swirled lolly. 

When his mother had shown him the picture you had just left for home, making a young James quite sad that his friend couldn’t stay just a little longer. Euphemia Potter had smiled, handing the picture to her son. “It’s okay, my love. Now you have a piece of Y/N with you.” 

“How?” James had asked, his lower lip jutting out in a frown. 

Euphemia laughed. “The picture captures you together. Look how happy the two of you look!” she points at her son’s smile in the photo. “You can do whatever you’d like with it.” 

James grinned, his eyes lighting up once more. “I want to hang it, mum!” he dragged her hand into the bedroom with him, climbing on top of his bedsheets and pressing the picture to the wall. “Here. That way I can say goodnight to them even when they're not here.” 

Euphemia Potter smiled watching as her son tucked himself under the covers. “That’s a brilliant idea, James.” With a wave of her wand, two pins fastened themself to the wall, the photo beneath. 

That was the beginning of James’s love for pictures. More pictures would accumulate such as the one of him and his father at a Tornados game. Drawings you would give him of flowers and Kneazles. The pictures would come and go but yours stayed the same. An additional picture of you and James would later be added three years later when the two of you were seven. James’s broom no longer sat in one hand, instead was gripped with two and hovering five feet off the ground. He had a wicked smile on his face, his glasses slightly falling down his nose. You sat behind him, your small fingers clutching to his waist as the picture captured you mid-squeal. 

Time went on yet the pictures of the two of you stayed the same. Along with your drawings, which had improved dramatically since you were seven, he’d occasionally find a Hollyhead Harpies banner plastered to his wall. When he came to scold you, pink banners adjourned in his hand, you’d laugh at the pout on his lips. He could never stay angry at you and always joined in on your laughter. 

The final year before things would slightly change was the year before going to Hogwarts.  A third picture was added at the age of ten. The Potter family had accompanied your family on a trip to Diagon Alley in which you had bought your screech owl, Juniper. James had one arm wrapped around you. His hair was untidy and a goofy smile was on his face as his other hand flicked your forehead. Your eyes were closed mid-laugh as one hand pushed his face away and the other perched with Juniper who screeched happily on your available arm. 

Again, time went on quickly and changes were made in James Potter’s room but you were not one of them. He packed up his Hogwarts things the night of August 31st, leaving his room full of pictures with a soft smile. 

You rode on the train with him, both of you waving goodbye to your loved ones. You grinned at him wickedly, “Excited?” you ask. 

“Definitely.” he responded. “Do you have money for the trolley?” 

You slide into a train compartment, one small boy already sitting there. “Yeah. Do you need to borrow some?” 

James nodded and you rolled your eyes, handing money over to the kind witch who passed by, grabbing pumpkin pasties for you and Bertie Botts for James. 

The ride was life-changing as you made acquaintances with similar mindsets. Two more boys entered your compartment and along with the scrawny boy from before, all of you made it to Gryffindor. “Where dwell the brave at heart” as James liked to put it. 

First year was an interesting feat with James quickly falling head over heels for Lily Evans. Your friendship never faltered although the thought of her in his life made you feel odd. However, you were sure she wouldn’t be in his life for quite some time seeing as his persistent efforts were met with an equally stubborn rejection. 

“She’s a firecracker, that one.” he sighed, walking beside you down the hall after another devastating encounter with Lily. 

“You’re just embarrassing yourself now, my boy.” you reply, dubbing his nickname to ease the comment. 

He smirked. “Then why do you hang out with me?” 

“Because, I’m the one who makes sure you don’t cross the line from embarrassing to mortifying.” 

He shakes his head with a silly grin. “I doubt that. You love me. That’s why.” 

You laugh, an effective way of avoiding the curious ideas that ran through your young mind. “Don’t throw around the l- word so quickly! You’ve got to mean it.” 

James bumped your side. “But I’ve known you for years.” 

You ruffle his hair, making it messier than it already was. “Save it for Evans.” 

---

The year ended and the two of you went home to Northern England hands overflowing with Gryffindor red, spirits high with a drive for Quidditch practice and addresses from Remus, Peter, and Sirius tucked away in your pockets. 

James’s room changed tremendously that first year. Alongside the Tutshill Tornados merchandise were small Gryffindor banners, lions enchanted to roar at the touch. You had given him one of your sketches from the school year, one of Sirius and him laughing in Transfiguration, another of him and Peter skipping stones. The pictures of the two of you still remained, a small collection of dust coating the edges which he wiped away with a smile. 

Second year was merry and full of high spirits. James had acquired his father’s invisibility cloak which gave cause to a number of nighttime rendezvous and adventures in the kitchens. Suspicion arose on Remus, whose monthly disappearances came to your attention. With the help of Sirius and Peter, the group soon discovered Remus’s guarded secret and accepted the furry little problem with open arms. 

The Lily Evans situation did not get any better with James’s persistence holding up fiercely and her hatred toward him even more harsh. As Sirius had dubbed it, “Mate, at this point you’re never getting married.” Remus and Peter whole-heartedly agreed, sending James into an adolescent spiral. 

“What if I don’t get married, Y/N/N?” he confided in you by the shores of the Black Lake. 

You chuckled, his delirium quite adorable. “You’re going to get married, James. Trust me.” 

He sighed, snapping a twig between his fingers. “It’s not definite.” 

“Nothing is.” you counter. 

James groaned. “I know. I know. But I would like it to be. Wouldn’t you?” 

You contemplated the idea, a thought coming to your head. “What if it could be?” 

He stared at you curiously. Your eyes lit up and James grinned. “Hit me.” 

“If by the time we are thirty neither of us are married then we should get married to each other.” you propose, a proud smile on your face. “That way we can have a definite of our own.” 

James grinned. “I like that idea. But what if one of us gets married before that?”

You frown. “Then I guess it’d be a flop. But it’s better than nothing, right?” 

He agreed quickly. The sun was setting into a pond of pink. The wind rustled and birds chirped and the moment seemed picture perfect and James wished a camera would magically pop up and capture the moment so he’d be able to hang it on his wall for years to come. It did not work that way, instead, he turned to you with a smirk. “I don’t have anything to propose with.” 

You looked down in embarrassment and gave him a shove. “We’re not getting married yet! It’s just a deal not the real thing.” 

He rolled his eyes at you. “I know but it feels as though something special should happen. How about we seal with a spit swear?” 

You stick your tongue out and pretend to gag. “Ew! No.” you flick his forehead causing him to wince. He grins before flicking you back, watching as you fall back onto the grass. 

“I guess a flick works as well.” he sighs. “Y/N Potter has a nice ring to it.” 

Your head falls against his shoulder. “I can’t believe I might be a Potter one day. Sounds disgusting.” 

James laughs, the weight of your head feeling oddly familiar against his shoulder. “Oh, shut it!” 

--- 

The years came and went. Third year, James made the Quidditch team and he quickly became a ladies man despite his obvious pining over Evans. You made sure to keep his feet on the ground as you didn’t want his ego to get larger than it already was. You came to all his games, occasionally bringing a camera so that James could add his moments of glory onto his beloved room wall. There was the time he tried dedicating a shot to you and ended up getting knocked off his broom by a Beater. 

He made the next one thankfully. 

On the other hand, you had earned the title of master dueler amongst the third years for your quick arm and sharp spellcasting. While James was at Quidditch practice: you, Peter, Remus, and Sirius would practice in empty classrooms although after a while they became rather bored as you would always win. James would cheer you on, even when you beat him there was a compliment of your skill and he was more than anything, proud. 

The summer between third and fourth year was the year the Marauders got their first group picture together. Everyone had met up at the Potter residence, Euphemia Potter snapping the photo with Sirius and James to the left, Peter and Remus on the right, and you in the middle. James hung the picture on his wall as it was routine by now. The whole gang got to see his famous wall of pictures, his life an open storybook to anyone who looked closely. 

Fourth year sparked love, pranks, and new ideas. Peter went on his first date, flaming at the cheeks as his friends waved him off embarrassingly. Group pranks ensued upon Snape whose oily hair was dyed all colors of the rainbow by the end of the first semester. You had gone on your first date as well, Steven Goldstein from Hufflepuff whom James threatened to beat up and Sirius who gave him “a talk”. 

Most importantly, the group addressed Remus’s furry little problem seeing as each year he came back with more and more scars than before. Two ideas sparked up from the meeting and both were large feats that every member of the group was willing to take. 

“So wait..” Peter asked. “You want to make a map… that tracks everyone in Hogwarts?” 

James nodded and Remus shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t look at me that way, Remus.” 

Remus shoved him lightly. “How would that even work though? Isn’t it a little invasive?” 

You smiled. “It most certainly is invasive but think about how awesome it’d be to have something like that. All we would need is…” 

“A complex locator spell.” you and Sirius said together. 

Everyone grinned. “Pete can do the drawing and sketching. He’s good at that stuff. We should check for secret passageways. All of us could do the magic. We’ve got the brains.” 

“I don’t think someone with brilliant magic technique would use the word brain to describe their intelligence.” you point out. James simply flicked you in the head. 

“And there’s the Animagi thing…” Sirius added. 

“That’s a reach.” Remus replied. 

“More than the map?” Peter questioned. 

Remus sighed. “You guys don’t have to do that for me. I’ve been transforming on my own for years. No need to have buddies now.” 

“Nonsense.” you say. “Anything for you, Rem. This is what you deserve.” 

The friends looked at each other silently. “Are we ready to pull off the biggest student feat in Hogwarts history?” Sirius whispered. 

“Aye, aye.” Everyone cheered. 

Peter grinned. “We’re up to no good.” 

James smiled back. “Then let us manage our mischief well.” 

WIth that the group commenced, exiting the abandoned classroom they used and taking off to class. James walked by your side as you headed to astronomy together. 

“I can’t wait till we pin this down. It’s going to be an epic year.” he grinned. 

You chuckle. “I know you’ll end up stalking someone, Potter. Evans by the looks of it.” 

He shook his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Nope. I’m gonna stalk you instead. See if you’re hiding any secrets from me.” 

You smile. “What secrets could I possibly be hiding from you, my boy?” 

James nudged your side with a smirk. “You’re telling me a good-looking fellow like yourself isn’t sneaking off with some other lad other than their best friends.” 

You shook your head, the word “good-looking” repeating itself in your mind. “No. If I did I would tell you.” 

“Good.” he said, starting up the stairs to the Astronomy tower. “I don’t need some arsehole stealing you away from me.” 

You roll your eyes. “No one could ever steal me from you, James. I’m not a Quaffle.” 

He nods with a grin. “Yeah. I suppose you’re more of a Snitch.” 

You laugh, dashing up the stairs in hopes that you wouldn’t be late for your Astronomy lesson.

--- 

As one could guess more pictures and sketches made their home on James Potter’s wall. It was a cluttered mess but beautiful nonetheless. It was as though the wall had an expression of its own with its array of Quidditch jerseys, photographs, art, and ticket stubs. Nobody touched the wall except James as he liked having every picture in place. His wall organized the way he liked it best… messy. 

Fifth year was the first year you didn’t see James every week. He had eagerly signed up for Quidditch camp and had left for Wales with promises that’d you write about the boys and the progress on the map and Animagi projects. The projects went well with Peter completing the outline sketches of the maps, Remus filling piles of papers on Animagi transformations and finally Sirius and you gathering the needed ingredients for the Animagi process. 

You had grown taller over the summer, hair lightening and your features more accentuated. Eagerly you awaited James’s return and when the time did come you had woken up early in the morning to see him arrive by Portkey on the hill. The second he appeared you had rushed over, engulfing him in a hug. You had missed his touch, his constant nagging and overall  the James Potterness that followed him around that would never fade with time. 

Meanwhile, he was left out of breath, a couple of inches taller and a smile on his face as he squeezed you back. “Y/N/N! I missed you, you lazy hag.” 

You laughed, messing up his hair that sat more neatly than in previous years. “And I missed you, my boy.” 

The next days before school were spent catching him up on the map and at the pond by your house. With each swim you noticed the changes in James such as the six-pack the tedious trials at Quidditch camp had given him. 

“Oi!” you shouted, splashing him in the face. “Whatever happened to the skinny twig that was my friend?” 

He smirked. “Oi! Why are you looking?” 

You bit your lip, not allowing him to see you flustered. “I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and it’s a very noticeable change!” you pointed at his toned stomach. 

James tapped your nose and you stared at him in annoyance. “It��s only noticeable if you want to notice it.” 

He turned around, making to walk back to the shore of the pond. You didn’t remember when James had gotten so cheeky although he’d always been that way, just never with you. Wickedly, you took the bucket that floated beside you and dunked it in the water. With a mischievous grin, you snuck up behind him, dumping the bucket of water on his head. 

James turned around with a gasp, jaw dropped. You laughed, a wide smile on your lips at the sight of him drenched in his swim trunks. It wasn’t until his arms tucked along your waist, dragging you to the deeper ends of the pond did the smile drop and his return. 

“Why you little…” you seethed. “James Fleamont Potter if you-” 

It was too late by then, your body submerged in the water and you swam up, his laughter the first noticeable sound. You scowled as he doubled over with laughter on the shore. “I’m never letting you go to Quidditch camp again.” 

The two of you walked home as the sun set, many flicks to the forehead ensuing as you did. 

---

Fifth year was by far the most epic year of your Hogwarts experience. Everything was prepared for the Animagi transformation and phase two of the map project was ready to launch with Remus having gained access to the restricted section of the library. 

It seemed as though the whole student body had recognized the change in James’s physique which only led to an inflation of his ego. The worst part was that Lily Evans just so happened to be one of those said noticers and while her defiance toward him was still strong, she could be caught staring in class much to James’s delight. 

The Animagi process began as soon as the September full moon. While Remus suffered in the Shrieking Shack, the four other Marauders set their Mandrake leaves into their mouths preparing for an uncomfortable month of bitterness on their tongues. The leaves were held under their tongues when talking in class and for the rest of the time they resorted to note passing leaving the entirety of Hogwarts wondering why the Marauders went quiet so suddenly. 

During the period between moons, they worked on their map. Stacks of books, both regular and restricted, lay among them. Each had a quill and parchment used to take note of spells or pass messages back and forth. As you worked you received a message from James in the form of a crumpled ball of parchment. You smoothed it out with a sigh. 

I hate this thing. It tastes like piss and lime. 

You held back a chuckle, writing your own message next to his. 

You’re not backing out of this, Potter. It’s for Remus. 

He stuck the leaf under his tongue in order to stick it out at you and you rolled your eyes. He scribbled a message back. 

I know. I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it. 

You smirked, tossing the parchment back to him. 

If your scrawny arse can come back from Quidditch camp with abs then you can stomach keeping a leaf in your mouth for a month. 

He smoothed it out and you went back to your work only getting in a minute's reading before the parchment bounced off your head. You scowled at his antics but he only looked at his book with a smirk. Unfolding the paper, James’s messy handwriting took up the last blank space on the parchment. 

Nice to know you still think about my abs. 

Your stomach squirmed at the feeling that inflamed from his words and the smirk that was on his face. You flicked him on the head, throwing the parchment into the fire before Sirius could ask what it was. 

--- 

It took moon soaked leaves, untouched morning dew and a lightning storm to finally complete the transformations. It was on a late November night that a lightning storm finally struck and in the fifth corridor bathroom the Marauders made their first transformations. For Peter, a small rat with a wriggling tail. For Sirius, a pure black dog. For James, a large stag with mighty horns. For you, a sly fox with sleek orange fur. 

Thus that night began the use of the nicknames: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Dubbed by James and agreed upon all around. The final full moons of fifth year were spent prancing around Hogsmeade alongside Remus whose scars diminished with each transformation spent with his friends. 

The downside of it all was the building tension in the school. With Lord Voldemort on the rise, more and more of your classmates were showing their true colors. Select Slytherins no longer wore short sleeves, their wrists always covered even in the heat of summer. Watchful eyes and protective glares, you went home for summer in worry. 

Over the summer, Prongs lost his Pronginess. He wrote to Lily Evans most days of the week and now the things she sent him hung on his wall alongside you and the Marauders. An anticipated change but a scary one still. Every outing with James became more about Lily and less about anything else. You could feel your best friend slipping away and you told him so the night before the start of sixth year. 

The two of you sat together in the branches of a tree. The sun hit your skin in rays and clouds passed by over your heads. James’s voice droned on about his darling Lily flower and with an unknowing malice you snapped at him. “Shut it!” you groaned. 

His eyes looked over at you, hands holding your head in remorse. “Aren’t you happy for me? You’ve been acting off all summer.” 

“I’ve been acting off because you’ve been acting off. I am happy for you but Evans is the only thing you talk about these days. What happened to talking about the Tornados or sneaking out together for milkshakes?” 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s different now.” 

“Well, it shouldn’t be.” you exclaim. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t grow up. I support the idea of you no longer being a cheeky bastard. If you’re happy with Evans then I am happy for you. But being with Evans doesn’t mean you have to forget about me or the Marauders or everything else.” 

James nodded, a leaf spinning between his fingers as he frowned. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N.” 

You shake your head. “I am too. Sorry I snapped at you, my boy.” your head fell onto his shoulder the same way it had done for years only this time things had changed. The weight still felt perfect on his shoulder but now his stomach turned and his breath hitched at the close proximity. Things were indeed changing although the two of you only danced around it, not wanting to address the mess you two had made. 

Your head was still against his shoulder as you spoke quietly. “Just remember you’re not a Quaffle.” 

He chuckled, stroking your hair affectionately. “I guess I’ll be the snitch then.” 

You smiled, swimming in the feel of the James Potter you knew so well. Later that night, the two of you snuck out like old times, sharing a chocolate milkshake and sending each other glances the whole way home. 

--- 

Sixth year was a rollercoaster. The map was finished, all the efforts poured out finally receiving an equally impressive outcome with the parchment branded with the names of the Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Remus had his first kiss and Sirius decided on leaving home and James welcomed him with open arms. 

The other Marauders were not impartial to the changes in your and James’s behavior. The miniscule changes in his face when you napped on his lap or the flush of your skin when he rustled your hair. In all honesty, it was as though the two of you were finally waking up and seeing what they’d been seeing all along. However, your own defiance was strong and love wasn’t simple. James was still under the impression that his heart beat for Lily Evans and you flirted around your feelings as opposed to finally confronting them. 

When Gryffindor won the Quidditch season, you were the first one in James’s arms to congratulate him. He spun you around, a large grin on his face. “We won!” 

You smiled. “That you did, my boy. Celebration calls and are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Hmm? Let me guess… Firewhiskey?” 

“That’s my boy.” you cheer, linking your arm in his and dragging him off the field as Lily Evans watched the boy she had taken a chance on run off with someone else.

---

Firewhiskey made for a fine celebration and resulted in James and you collapsed on the floor of the Gryffindor common room at two in the morning. His glasses were crooked as he stared up at the ceiling and your hair fell in waves on the floorboards. 

“Blimey, I can’t believe we won.” James chuckled, his words slurring together slightly. 

“You deserve it, my boy.” you say, lightly punching his arm. “How are you feeling on this fine evening?” 

His cheeks went pink but a smile overtook his features making for a hilarious expression when he shouted out. “Randy!”  

You doubled over with laughter. “Gosh, James. I don’t need to hear about this.” you shove his grinning face with your palm. 

“What, you've never felt randy before?” he asked, a childlike expression on his face juxtaposing such an intrusive question. 

You hide your embarrassment behind a grin. “Yes, but I’m not going around telling you about it.” 

He tapped your nose with the tip of his finger and your stomach swirled. “And why not?” 

You turned over to your side. “I’m not sure best friends tell each other about being randy, Prongs.” 

James sighed. “I guess not. But how are you feeling, my little vixen?” 

With a swig of your drink and a grin you reply. “Randy.” 

The two of you erupt into fits of laughter. James pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I suppose it’s the whiskey then.” 

You stare up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.” 

Both of you knew that wasn’t the case. You knew that despite the whiskey slowing the gears of your mind you still noticed James’s hand laying by your waist. You could still trace the outline of his chin and the bridge of his nose. James could still see the curve of your lips and the rise of your chest. Firewhiskey was most definitely not the cause of your randiness. 

But it was the easiest thing to blame. 

--- 

Your birthday came soon after with the Marauders celebrating in joy. Presents were exchanged with Remus giving you some books, Peter knitted (with the help of his mother) a pair of mittens for you and Sirius had gifted you a record to play on your stereo. 

But James had to be extravagant. It wasn’t everyday his best friend turned seventeen and he marked the occasion with something expensive yet meaningful. When you opened the small box inside had been a silver fox ring. It’s eyes sparkling gems that twinkled as if blinking. 

“James, I’m going to kill you.” you seethed. “This is way too expensive. I’m turning seventeen not fifty.” 

He laughed. “Oi, woman! It’s fine. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, only the best for you.” 

You stared at it once more before engulfing him in a hug. “It’s beautiful, my boy. Thank you.” 

His arms squeezed your waist, breathing you in and remembering the sweet smells of childhood and friendship rolled into one. His eyes closed and it was as if he had drifted off into a pleasant dream. “Of course, my little vixen.”

You made certain to flick his head after. 

He was starting to regret giving it to you already. 

---

Sixth year came to a close with an even more devastating end than the last. The war only continued to rage with Muggles being murdered miles away from the school, Muggle-borns driving into hiding. Sirius’s brother was slowly falling into line with the other Slytherins, devoting their hours to the torture of Muggleborns, Lord Voldemort and the likes. 

James left Hogwarts heart-broken when Lily Evans broke up with him on the last day of term. “Look around!” Lily had told him. “You’re blind, James. I’m not the person you want and it’d be clear if you’d stop and take a look.” 

He hadn’t known what she meant and the first week of summer was spent crying and eating ice cream on the sofa with you by his side. His room had become a mess and Lily’s letters no longer remained on the wall instead crumbled up in a ball in the trash. 

Euphemia Potter couldn’t dread to see her son in the dumps any longer and she made sure to tell him so one evening after you had left. 

“James, you need to get your life together, my love.” she whispered, rubbing her sons back reassuringly. 

His words came out muffled into her neck. “It’s hard.” 

“I know.” she soothed. “And I’m always going to be there for you.” 

“Promise?” he asked. 

“Promise.” she smiled. “Now how about you go clean your room. It’s become quite dirty.” 

He nodded, trudging to his room with a broom. Lily’s words repeated in his mind as he entered. “You’re blind, James. Look around!” But there was nothing to look for. All he saw was his wall and a soft smile came to his face as he approached it. The Tutshill Tornado banners clung loosely to the paint and drawings of Kneazles and landscapes and trees. Pictures of the Marauders and Gryffindor lions. 

And finally the ones of you. 

His fingers ran across the picture in the middle. Four-year old James grinning and you licking a lolly. His eyes moved to the next one, seven years old and flying together on a broomstick. A grin broke out on his face as he saw the one with your owl in Diagon Alley, his fingers flicking your forehead. James’s mind was on hyperdrive as he examined each picture, one common factor in almost all of them. 

You. 

You were in many of the photos, a smile adorned on your face. If you weren’t in the photos you were the one taking them, knowing how much he adored them. Any pictures that hung were sketched by your hands. Here was James Potter’s open story, the story of his life all plastered to the wall as though it was an empty canvas. Present in every moment, every aspect, had been you. You had been the start of his book, the picture of the two of you as tots still smacked in the middle of the wall. Yes, he realized. You had started his book and had remained in it for quite some time. 

Lily Evans must’ve noticed and maybe everyone else had too. 

James had been blind to the message that was sprawled across his wall. He had been the one writing it, maybe not knowingly but writing it out all the same. Everyone had seen it except the writer and his subject, the message painstakingly clear years prior to its conception. 

He quickly removed all the pictures from the wall, grabbing each one that hung and piling them up in his hand. The door swung open as he dashed out of his room yelling, “I’ve got to go, mum!” before running out the front door. The hills of green were illuminated by the night sky, the stars burned for James as he hopped over branches and boulders to get to you. 

Your house was in the distance, your figure standing a few feet away from the home. He called out to you, your eyes turned to meet his. When he reached you, he paused, catching his breath. 

“James, what on Earth are you doing here?” you laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder as he breathed. 

He stood up straight, panting as he held up a photo. “This is us when we were four. The first photo we ever took together.” 

You squinted at him. “Right?” 

He shuffled through the pictures, fingers tracing each one. “And this is from when we were seven. That one from when we were ten. You gave me this drawing when we were six because you loved Kneazles and wanted one as a pet. That drawing was from the first year when we went skipping stones at the Black Lake and you sketched me and Peter.” 

Your face melts slowly. “James, I don’t understand. You’ve had these for years.” 

He exhaled, his eyes lighting up. “That’s the thing. I never saw it till now but Lily said I was blind and that she wasn’t the person I wanted.” You nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead with your sleeve and he grinned. “See that right there. That’s what I want.” 

The night air bit at your spine. “You want me to wipe the sweat from your forehead?” 

He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Not exactly. I want you to wipe the sweat from my forehead for the next year and the next ten and then the next fifty. You’ve been doing it for years already and the thing is… I don’t think I want anyone else doing it for me.” 

You blinked as he came closer, his palms cradling your cheek as you gazed into his eyes. “You’ve been in my life for as long as I could remember and I want you to stay in it for as long as I live. You told me once to not throw around the l-word and I said…” 

“But I’ve known you my whole life.” you mutter. 

“I think I’ve loved you for a while. I just didn’t know it yet.” 

You shook your head as the wind rustled the branches, the windchime on your porch creating soft melodies. A large grin spread across your lips yet you continued to shake your head. “There’s a war, James.” 

He smiled. “Only more the reason to be with me.” 

“But I’ve been with you my whole life.” you tease. 

“Oh, shut up!” he chuckles, before leaning down to capture your lips. At that moment everything made sense. All the pieces of the puzzle sifted into place and the stars applauded you from the sky and the night gale created a ruckus at your shed blindfold. 

“Be my Snitch?” he asked. 

You rolled your eyes, “That’s the cringiest thing you’ve ever said, my boy.” 

He smirked. “Oh, but you love it.” 

“Perhaps I do.” you replied, flicking his forehead for good measure. 

---

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[holylulusworld]

Two Barbarians (3)

Title: Two Barbarians (3)

Square Filled for @spnabobingo​​​​​ (Round 6): Overprotective alpha

Ship: Alpha(Prince)!Dean Winchester x Omega(Princess)!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Grandmother Millie

Rating: Mature

Summary: Dean is determined to make you see you’re his omega.

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, scenting, true mates, comforting, fluff, overprotective alpha, light oral (fem rec), mentions of oral (male rec), implied smut, mentions of knotting, implied claiming, cuddling & snuggling, possessive alpha, coming in pants (untouched)

Word Count: 2,2k

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​​​​

<< Part 2

One week before the wedding, …

“Dean, it feels odd,” you whimper, feeling his tongue lap at your exposed sex. He moans against you, smirking when your hands snap toward his head to tug at his hair. “My Prince, are you sure we are allowed to do this before our wedding night?”

“My love, you are so sweet down there,” he purrs. “You taste like heaven, sweetheart. Now let me touch you again. I want to make you feel so good. Don’t you like it?”

“I like it a lot,” you bite your lower lip. “It feels so good when you touch my petals,” heat creeps into your cheeks when Dean’s tongue flick your sensitive nub. “But I don’t want anyone else to touch me like that.”

“No one will dare to touch my omega,” Dean’s head snaps upward and you can see possessiveness in his emerald orbs. “Only I can touch you down there or anywhere, my little skunk.”

“Please, don’t stop,” whining you look down your body. “Dean, can I touch you too tonight? I want to touch your manhood, please.”

“Sweetheart,” he purrs, slowly crawling up your body. You can feel his arousal press against your slicked sex, and you know, he wants you as much as you yearn to give yourself to him. “Only one week left. You can touch me as much as you want to in not a week.”

“One of the ladies said I should take your knot in my mouth,” you blur out. “Do you want me to?” innocently glancing at Dean you move your hand to his swelling length. “This feels so hard, my prince. I could help you and use my tongue and lips.”

“My love,” a throaty purr leaves your lips when Dean burrows his face in your neck to inhale your scent. “Please don’t make me weak. If you don’t stop, I claim and knot you tonight and no one is going to stop me.”

“Why didn’t you claim me during my heat?” you whisper. “Why giving me herbs to suppress it? I wanted you to make me yours.”

“Rowena offered her help, and I took the chance to get to know you better before I knot, claim and make love to you,” Dean nuzzles your cheek, moaning when you grasp for him, roughly pressing the alpha to your heated body, hips rocking against Dean’s crotch.

“My prince, uh—your pants are wet,” you giggle. “Is this normal, Dean? I mean, are you hurt or sick?”

“I just came in my pants,” he sighs deeply. His cheeks shades of pink he looks down at you. “I couldn’t stop my manhood from wanting you.”

“OH! Did you knot your pants?” he laughs, shaking his head at your question. “What? Don’t you knot an omega all the time?”

“Most of the time we only use our manhood, my little skunk,” Dean pecks your lips, nibbling at your lower lip. “Alphas knot their omega during heats, our ruts, or when we mate for the first time.”

“Not for fun?”

“Naughty little skunk,” pressing his lips to your mating gland he moans. “You taste so good, Y/N. One more week and I’ll show you my knot.”

“Is it big? Lady Lisa said an alpha must have a big knot to satisfy his omega,” you shyly glance at Dean, chewing on your lower lip.

“I got the biggest knot you’ll ever see,” nodding you smile up at your alpha. “I’m gonna fill you with my pups and show everyone I stole my arch-nemesis daughter’s heart.”

“Slow, sweetheart,” Dean holds your hand, carefully helps you move down the stairs. “We don’t want you to stumble and fall again. My little skunk is a clumsy omega.”

“I’m not clumsy,” you protest. “I was in a hurry, scared and heartbroken.” You sniffle, looking around the throne room. “Is she really gone? I don’t want to see her again.”

“No one is going to hurt you,” he whispers in your ear. “Everyone knows you are my chosen omega. You believe me, right.”

“You didn’t threaten to put me in the dungeon lately,” Dean smirks when you squeeze his hand a little tighter. “And you didn’t yell at me.”

“I tried to tame my temper for you, sweetheart. I can’t promise to always be patient, but I’ll try my best. Promised.”

“Will you,” leaning closer to Dean to whisper the words you press his hand to your heart, “do this thing with your tongue again too? I like it a lot, my prince.”

“Son, we need to talk about a few things before the wedding,” John whispers, jabbing his thumb over his left shoulder. “Your grandmother is about to change everything again. Please, help your king out.”

“I can’t leave my omega all alone,” Dean wraps his arm tightly around your shoulders. “She could get hurt again! I need to stay by her side all the time.”

“Dean, you didn’t leave your bride’s side for over a month. She can barely breathe without you worrying,” laughing at your pained expression John looks you all over. “She looks healthy and happy. Let your grandmother tell her about the new musicians and food. We can talk about the hunt to honor your wedding.”

“I can’t—” Dean snarls at his father, immediately shoving you behind his back. “No one is getting close to my omega. Stay away from Y/N.”

“Something wrong?” Sam cocks his head to glance at you behind his brother’s back. “Why are you hiding Y/N behind your back? Is she sick or scared?”

“Hands off my omega, Sammy,” Dean threatens, finger poking his brother’s chest. “You looked at her too often for my liking. She’s my omega, my chosen bride.”

“Dean, I was just worried about her. Did you forget you threatened to put her in the dungeon?” furrowing his brows Sam looks at his brother. “What? Got nothing to say?”

“Back then she was just the enemy’s daughter,” Dean growls when Sam dares to get closer to you. “Now she’s my bride and omega. Don’t get any closer.”

“Sam,” John holds his youngest son back. “Dean’s scent just got stronger. I think he’s close to his rut and it’s not a good idea to get too close to his omega right now. Give him a bit of time.”

“She’s mine,” before you can protest Dean scoops you into his arms to run away with you. “I dare you to even look at her!”

Three days before the wedding,…

“Son, this is not—” watching Dean cover your body with his larger frame John sighs deeply. Your alpha placed almost all of his clothes on the bed, wrapped you into a warm blanket before he caged you with his body. “Don’t suffocate your omega.”

“I need to keep her save,” Dean grumbles. He looks you all over again, checks every part of you before he lies on the bed, waiting for you to curl in his side. “I don’t want you to get closer. This is my omega and our nest.”

“He’s so protective,” you purr, nuzzling your alpha’s neck, rubbing his scent onto your skin. “My king, you should leave us alone. I’ll try to calm him down, but I’m afraid it’s no use.”

“I got a sword and a dagger,” threatening his father Dean whips his head toward John. “She’s mine and I must keep close to me.”

“Dean, you got it bad for her,” laughing John slowly steps backward. “I just wanted to tell you everything is prepared for your wedding. You only need to attend the wedding.”

“We will,” one strong arm slings around your waistline and you squeak when Dean burrows his face in your neck to positively lick your mating gland.

“Dean, my prince,” you push against how shoulder feeling his erection press against your thigh. “ALPHA!”

“Soon you are mine,” he hums to himself, licking your untouched mating gland. “I won’t let anyone get close to you ever again. My omega, my princess.”

“Maybe I should hide in the dungeon for the time being,” sighing deeply you rest your head against Dean’s shoulder. “I will sleep now, alpha. I promise to not run away.”

“If you hide in the dungeon, I’ll follow you,” Dean states, kissing your neck. “Sleep, I’ll watch over you and make sure no one touches what’s mine.”

“Goodnight, Dean,” pressing your lips to his chin you smile. “I feel safe with you, alpha. But you need sleep to my prince. Promise to sleep a bit.”

“Promised,” Dean lies but you are too tired to argue tonight. “Maybe in the morning after you woke.”

Wedding Day, ...

Dean circles his father and brother like prey snarls now and then before he starts to pace around the altar. “What if anything happens to her while I’m not with her? I will kill anyone touching her!”

“Son, that is enough!” John’s voice echoes through the church. “Your chosen bride is safe with the maids. Three knights guard the room and will accompany her to the church. Nothing is going to happen to her.”

“Brother, look—” Dean stops in his tracks when the doors to the church opens and everyone gets up from their seats to watch you walk down the aisle.

Grandmother Millie, John’s mother, leads you down the aisle, smiling wildly when Dean purrs low in his throat the moment you take his offered hand.

“You look beautiful, my little skunk,” you giggle when Dean whispers the words in your ear before he pecks your cheek.

“It’s your grandmother’s dress,” smiling at your groom you let him hold your hand tightly. Dean breaks all rules. He doesn’t follow the protocol for a royal wedding. He simply holds your hand, not wanting to let go of you.

“Only your beauty makes it look like a dream,” Dean roams your body with his eyes, smiling at you. You are wearing Millie’s wedding gown. It’s a ruby, long, form-fitting gown with a wide neckline, long sleeves, and gold embroidery.

You wish you could listen to the priest’s words, but all you can do is to look into Dean’s eyes. There is adoration and love in those mysterious orbs, and you wonder if he looked a girl like that before.

While your heart beats faster the longer you look at Dean, you forget about the wedding and that people are watching you and the prince.

“My prince, you must take your vows now,” the priest tuts, and Grandmother Millie chuckles. “We are all waiting for you.”

Listening to Dean’s vows you whimper silently. Instead of facing the priest, he looks at you all the time.

“—for better or worse, in sickness and in health, to death us depart,” he ends, looking at you, expectantly. “Your turn,” Dean whispers and you try to remember the words. “I’m here with you my love.”

Dean couldn’t leave the feast fast enough. He almost ran toward the chamber the maids prepared for your wedding night.

“Dean, slow down!”

“I finally got permission to touch you,” he purrs, smirking when you start to squirm in his hold. “Lemme bring you to our chamber and make you my omega. That’s all I want, my little skunk.”

“No more dungeon?”

“No more dungeon, sweetheart. Only our chamber and later, a warm and safe nest,” he kisses you softly, moaning when you wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, my barbarian. Now make me yours...”

“How does it feel?” Dean licks over the mark he left on your neck. “Does it hurt? Do you need anything?”

“It feels odd,” you feel the heat creep into your cheeks again when Dean shifts his hips and his knot twitches deep inside of you. “I read the books but didn’t think it will stay inside almost all night.”

“Did I hurt you? You felt pleasure…right?” worriedly kissing your hair Dean sighs when you do not answer his questions.

“Twice—” whispering the words you look over your shoulder to face your alpha. “At least I think it was twice. It could’ve been more.”

“That’s good,” puffing his chest Dean gives you a dirty grin. “My knot will fade soon, and we can sleep a bit. I don’t want you to be tired in the morning.”

“I liked it, my prince. Can we do this more often?” a deep growl leaves Dean’s throat and you squeak when he buries his face in your neck to bite you playfully. “Your knot, it’s big.”

“We will do it every night if you want us to,” he smirks when you squirm in his hold. “Or more often.”

“Every night,” Dean wraps his arms tightly around your body to keep you warm.

The winter is close and he feels it in his bones, it will be a dark and cold time. But with you by his side, he’ll never be cold again.

“Everyone waits for us to confirm we are expecting my heir, Y/N. I must knot and make love to you every night.”

“You are a liar,” you tut. “I know you only want to lie with me again. I see the hunger in your eyes, alpha.”

“Well, my love,” he nips at your neck, “I’m a barbarian after all. And now that you are in my arms and wear my mark. You are a barbarian too…”

“I love being yours, Dean. I love you, my barbarian…”

“I love you too, my little skunk.”

THE END...

Tags in reblog.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E2; Chapter Two, The Weirdo On Maple Street - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘠/𝘯, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Lucas, Dustin and I take our seats once we get to class.

"Oh, that can't be good." I sigh, gesturing to Mike's empty seat.

"Yeah, he's never this late," Dustin added.

"I'm telling you, his stupid plan failed," Lucas stated.

"I thought you liked his plan?"

"Yeah, but obviously it's stupid, or he'd be here."

"If his mom found out a girl spent the night—" Dustin began.

"He's in deep shit right about now."

Dustin shifted in his seat, and leaned forward, whispering loud enough for us to hear. "Hey, what if she slept naked?"

"Ugh!" My face screws into a sour, disgusted look aimed at my brother, unintentionally speaking at the same time as Lucas. "Why would she do that, Dustin?"

"Oh, my God, she didn't."

"Oh, if Mrs. Wheeler tells our parents..."

The thought of Mom finding out was enough to elicit an anxious groan from me, and I let my forehead fall against desk where I buried my face.

"No way. Mike would never rat us out."

I hesitantly looked up, making eye contact with Lucas. He gave me a reassuring smile, knowing I worry easily.

"I don't know." Dustin said warily.

"All that matters is, after school, the freak will be back in the loony bin, and we can focus on what really matters, finding Will." I frown at his specific choice of words for El, thinking back on how scared she seemed last night. I desperately want to say something, but decided against it, not wanting to get in a fight. Fighting won't get us any closer to finding Will.

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Mike Wheeler rides his bike down the small slope of grass towards his front yard. When El refused to let Mike's mom know she was there, Mike had no choice but to resort to plan b. He had led his mom to believe that he had ridden to school when in reality he had stopped around the corner until both his parents were gone.

When he got to the driveway, he dismounted his bike and led it into the garage, however something caught his eye. He stared in awe as the once withered and frankly the most miserable looking plant he had ever seen in his life, was now a beautiful lush green and stood as tall his knees. 'How had Y/n done it?'

It took a solid moment for Mike to gather his thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He parked his bike and made his way inside.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"You want anything to drink?" Mike decided to take advantage of the empty house so that he could show El around. "We have OJ, skim milk... What else? Um, we have..."

Mike trailed off when he saw that El was more fascinated with the things in his living room, mostly his TV set.

"Oh, this is my living room. It's mostly just for watching TV."

El lightly traced her fingers around the frame of the TV as she examined it.

"Nice, right? It's a 22-inch.

That's, like, ten times bigger than Dustin's."

El turned her head and said quietly.

"Y/n."

"Well, yeah of course. Y/n too."

"Y/n. Brother?" She asked, making sure she remembered correctly.

"Yeah!" Mike smiled, then lightly shrugged. "Well, technically adopted. But yeah, they're still brothers."

El's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Ad-adopted?"

"Yeah, um, it means that he came from different parents. Mrs. Henderson adopted him because his parents were unable to take care of him. It's funny actually, Y/n is from Hawkins. Or at least that's where they found him. They didn't used to live in Hawkins; I don't know much about it cause Dustin was so young he doesn't remember any of it, but I think him and his mom were visiting family here and they just... found him, I think? I'm pretty sure that's why they moved here, or something."

El seemed to understand as she thought about it. She then turned to look at the all the pictures on top of the fireplace. She slowly walks to the fireplace and steps up onto the brick platform. She gazes at all the family photos. Particularly, the photo beside the one of Mike; of a smiling girl, a little older than herself, with long brown hair and a pink sweater.

She smiles longingly and speaks in a soft voice. "Pretty."

"I guess." Mike's face is contorted in confusion and a little in disgust.

"That's my sister Nancy. And that's baby Holly." He said as she moved to the slightly larger photo of a young baby. She then moved along to a photo with Mike, Nancy, and Holly, along with two other people she didn't recognize.

"And those are my parents. What are your parents like?" As usual, El says nothing and she steps down from the fireplace and walks up to a large green chair.

"Do they live close?" Mike continued. He notices El run her hand along the top of the plush green chair. "That's our La-Z-Boy. It's where my dad sleeps. You can try it if you want." He offers. El looked up at him, intrigued. "Yeah." He assured her, with a warm smile on his face. She cautiously sits down as Mike kneels down beside the chair. "It's fun!"

She looked to Mike, wondering what he is up to.

"Just trust me, okay?" She gives a quick nod, and braces herself, not knowing what to expect. She is taken aback by the sudden collapse of the chair, she is now laying down and the chair is rocking back and forth. She lets out a gasp, and then a nervous chuckle.

"See? Fun, right?"

With one hand on the back of the chair, and the other on the front, he brings the chair back into its default position. "Now you try."

With a small smile on her face, and feeling more confident she leans over the side and pulls the handle, letting her entire body go flying backward into a slow rock. Mike and El both look at each other and laugh gleefully.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Some random rock song on the radio that Jonathan barely recognized came to an end as Jonathan Byers drove to his dad's house. His eyes darted to the radio unit in his car for a moment as his heart fell when the familiar sound of "Should I Stay or Should I Go" rang throughout the car.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Darlin', you got to let me know"

Jonathan is sat on the edge of the bed next to his younger brother Will. The two of them are in Will's room, bobbing their heads along to 'Should I Stay or Should I Go' by The Clash.

"Should I stay or should I go?"

"You like it?" Jonathan had to raise his voice so he could be heard over the loud song. Will looks to his older brother and grins.

"Yeah, it's cool!"

"All right, you can keep the mix if you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. All the best stuff's on there. Joy Division, Bowie, Television, The Smith's... It'll totally change your life."

"Yeah, totally," Will says with a smile. However, the smile is quick to leave when the two boys hear their mother yelling on the phone.

"Where the hell are you, Lonnie?"

Will slowly turns his head to the door, listening to his mother yell at his absent father.

"I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear it." Jonathan mimics his brother's actions and looks to the door. Finally, he gets up and walks towards the door.

"This is ridiculous! I'm so sick of your excuses.

"One day is fine and next is black"

Before Jonathan sits down, he lowers the volume on the stereo.

"He's not coming, is he?"

"Do you even like baseball?" Jonathan asks softly.

"No, but... I don't know." He shrugs sadly. "It's fun to go with him sometimes."

"Come on. Has he ever done anything with you that you actually like? You know, like the arcade or something?"

Will shrugs his shoulders weakly. "I don't know."

"No, all right? He hasn't. He's trying to force you to like normal things. And you shouldn't like things because people tell you you're supposed to. Okay?"

Will only looks down at his feet sadly.

"Especially not him."

Will silently nods his head in understanding.

Jonathan decided to change the subject.

"But you like The Clash? For real?"

Will nods his head eagerly with a smile. "For real. Definitely."

"So... is Y/n a fan of The Clash?" Jonathan asks, genuinely curious.

A faint blush dusts Will's cheeks as he looks down at his hands. "Um, yeah, I think so."

"Maybe you should show this to him. I bet he'll like it."

"Maybe. You think?"

"Yeah, from what I know, he has great taste. He's pretty cool."

A loving smile spreads across Will's face. "Yeah, he is pretty cool."

There's a small pause filled only with the now dulled melody of drums and guitar drifting through the air. They had talked about it before, but only vaguely, never fully addressing it and it dawned on Jonathan that there was probably still loads of fear for Will because of it. He looks down at his brother who he loved more than anything and sent him an encouraging, honest smile.

"Will, you guys are best friends. You two are just too close to ruin the friendship. Why don't you think about asking him to the arcade or something? Just the two of you, maybe come back here for some mac and cheese or something if that'd make you feel safer, and you could " he shrugs. "let him know how you feel?"

Will looked up at his brother, shocked. But his body was flushed with relief, he could feel the air in the room hitting his sweaty and clammey skin giving him chills. Not quite knowing how to handle his brothers reaction, his eyes simply fall to his hands where they fidgeting in his lap.

"But what if that does ruin the friendship? What if he doesn't feel the same way, and decides to stop hanging out with me. Or if someone finds out- I just- I just can't. I'm not ready."

"That's okay. All I'm saying is, he is way too nice to be the kind of person who would do that. And you are way too important to him. And hey, if you ever do feel ready, or you guys do go out in the future..." Jonathan trails off, sensing the awkwardness creep up. He chuckles and looks back to his brother.

"All I'm trying to say is, I'm here for you. Always."

Will smiles gratefully and Jonathan leans forward to the volume back up.

"Should I stay or should I go? So you gotta let me know, should I stay or should I go?"

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

[juniorgman187]

Any Day Now (Reid Fic)

A/N: Plz imagine being impregnated by season 10 Spencer Reid. WHEWW CHILE

Summary: Reader’s pregnancy finally takes its toll on her, leaving both Spencer and Reader to navigate through rough waters from miles away.  Category: Fluff, Soft-soft-soft angst, One-Shot Pairing: (POV)Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Content Warning: Pregnancy Word Count: 3.2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

At first, it was nothing I couldn’t handle.

Multiplied mood swings? Understandable, her hormones were everywhere. 

An ever-changing appetite? Great, at least now it wasn’t such a hassle for her to decide where to eat. 

A suddenly much tighter FBI vest? Well, that’s what the adjustable velcro straps were for. 

Again, nothing that I hadn’t already planned for. Even before I delved into parenting books galore, I had a pretty good general idea of what to expect. Not only because of JJ’s earlier pregnancy or Kate’s recent one, but more so because of my extensive knowledge of the human anatomy. This made riding the storm of (y/n)’s pregnancy easier ... until it didn’t. 

It was somewhere in her 35th week that things finally got the best of her. 

There was a linear increase of events that suggested things were taking a turn for the worse, so I slightly anticipated a steep decline to occur at any moment. For instance, soon after (y/n) started showing, I began to lose count of how many times I had to insert my hand between her seatbelt and her bump to create a gap just big enough so that the belt wouldn’t have such a suffocating restriction on her. Nor could I fully account for all the hours of sleep she’d lost tossing and turning, just trying to find a comfortable position where she wouldn’t be crushed by her own weight. And I certainly couldn’t remember, not even with my eidetic memory, how many times she’s almost walked out of the house completely barefoot after getting frustrated with her inability to put shoes on by herself. 

In some sad way, I knew she wished to regain some normalcy in her life. Not that she regretted motherhood, but that she wished she didn’t have to experience so many small inconveniences that summed up to something larger than the life she was helping come into fruition.

She just wanted to drink coffee again without running the risk of a miscarriage. She wanted to climb up a flight of stairs without getting winded by the first few steps. She wanted to put on a tight shirt without looking exceptionally overweight. And most of all, she just wanted to keep working.

If she had to go to hell and back to stay in the BAU while pregnant, then to hell and back she went. 

My wife, as stubborn as ever, had made me - and the entire team - promise not to baby her as soon as we revealed that we were expecting. 

“I don’t want any of that ‘but you’re pregnant’ crap, got it?” She narrowed her eyes darkly at all of us, pointing an accusatory finger. “Anything you can do, I can do pregnant.”

And from that day on, she did what she vowed to do, what I knew she could do. She still chased after unsubs, shot all the bad guys, arrested the felons, but eventually - inevitably - it wore down on her. 

The easiest effect I could identify was her drowsiness. It used to take her a while to fall asleep on the jet, and sometimes, she’d stay awake the entire flight. But after the grueling hours she’d endured during her pregnancy, we would barely board the plane before she knocked out. I think falling asleep in the seats gave her the comfort she couldn’t find lying horizontally in a bed. No one said anything, though, because she’d already made it explicitly clear that she didn’t want us to pay her any special treatment, which I understood. Nobody likes to be pitied, but after today’s incident, this went far beyond pity. 

It was just plain concern. 

“The doctor said I’ll be fine.” She grumbled, waving me away with a flick of her hand. However, seeing as she was currently lying in a hospital bed, donning a gown that only partially hid from me all the wires and pads that stuck to her body to monitor her health and relay it to the machines - she wasn’t fine. And I needed her to know that I wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was the team. (I didn’t tell her this because she would’ve quite literally took my head off, but they were all out there in the waiting room instead of working on the case). 

“Emphasis on the future tense ‘will.’ You will be fine, but right now, you’re not.” I prepared myself to deliver the news I knew she didn’t want to hear. My voice became significantly quieter, reaching such a low decibel I wasn’t sure she’d even hear it, but maybe that was by design. She didn’t want to hear it as much as I hated to say it. “Maybe you should consider going on maternity leave now.”

Immediately, my wife shook her head with the biggest pout I’d ever seen. I could see it in the way her lip quivered that she was about to cry, no doubt because of the hormones, but especially because this job was her last piece of normality. She clung to it because it was all she had left to remind herself that she was still, in some capacity, the woman she was before. 

“Spencer, please.” She begged, as if I could do anything. “I’m not ready to leave yet.” 

I pursed my lips and looked away for a second to hide my own emotions. Seeing her cry was never easy, but being the cause for it made this even harder. I felt the formation of a lump in my throat and the pricking of tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I croaked. “But I can’t let you keep risking your health,” I explained, neglecting to voice the final part of that sentence. ‘Or our baby’s.’ But I didn’t say that. How could I? It would’ve only guilted her further. 

“Your blood pressure’s getting higher,” I explained, keeping my eyes steady on hers, not letting them stray to the machine that she clearly didn’t know how to read. But with one glance at the numbers, I already knew they weren’t good. I didn’t lead on just how bad they were, though. “You fainted today, and if you’d landed even a little bit differently, you would’ve ended up with a lot more than just a few scratches on your stomach.” That was the extent of my guilt-tripping. It didn’t feel right coming out of my mouth, but it was the only way I knew she would understand the severity of the situation. 

“You were already planning on going on maternity leave next week, what’s a few days earlier?” I asked, briefly referring back to her obstetrician’s recommendation of not flying after her 36th week. 

We both agreed that after week 36, she’d take her leave of absence since she couldn’t join us on the jet anyway. It was our ‘compromise.’ If she insisted on still going in the field, then she had to listen to the doctor’s orders and not fly for the last month. 

“Spencer,” She whispered again, this time with tears running down her cheeks at the bat of her eyes. With the pad of my thumb, I gently wiped them away, wishing I’d never caused them to be there in the first place. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

She never let on how difficult things had become for her. She never said it’s too much (and it must be too much some of the time). So when she finally admitted the burden her pregnancy had created, I could already sense its arrival. So without a second wasted, I pulled the guest chair right up next to her bed and sat in it while reaching for her hand. Despite the presence of the pulse oximetry on her index finger, I still took her hand between both of my own, not minding the gap that the device created. 

“You are the strongest woman I know. There aren’t many pregnant women out there who can do what you’ve done these past eight months. They wouldn’t even think of it.” We shared a brief laugh, which lightened the atmosphere enough to encourage me to continue. “You are bearing our child, (y/n). Nobody else gets to do that. Not me. Not another girl. Just you. It’s only you who can truly give for our baby right now and you’re -you’re my girl ... and right now, I need you to take care of our girl, okay?”

She nodded rapidly with still glistening eyes. For the first time, that day, she stopped thinking her job was as an agent and started knowing her job was as a mother. 

And a damn good one at that. 

_ _ _

If there was anything I’d learned over the past years, it was that I should never expect my wife to follow the rules. Today was no exception. 

She should’ve been in bed right now, taking it easy, but instead, she was standing right beside the jet, saying goodbye to each and every one of us before we boarded. 

This would be our first flight without her. 

“You take care, mama, okay?” Morgan told her, kissing her cheek before waving goodbye. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Kate sighed, engulfing (y/n) in a hug that I knew couldn’t have been comfortable with each of their bumps in the way, but they relished in it anyway. If I didn’t know any better, it looked like Kate was about to cry. Maybe that’s because their dynamic was different than any other. Their simultaneous pregnancies meant that they knew one another’s struggles far better than any of us could, so granted, it would be hard for Kate and (y/n) to be away from each other. They’d been in this journey together after all, in a way I couldn’t have been.

“Oh,” JJ sighed happily, taking (y/n) in her arms and swaying gently from side to side. “You are going to be the best mother ever.” 

“Said the best mother ever.” (Y/n) remarked, laughing bittersweetly. It was something in her smile that let me know it was just for show. 

Then, in one of the rarest moments of history, Hotch hugged (y/n), earning a slightly more real smile from her.

“Get some rest. You deserve it.” He whispered. 

Not even a second after they pulled away did Rossi wait to take (y/n)’s face in his hands and plant two kisses, one on either cheek. 

“If you need anything, you call us.” He ordered, mimicking a drill sergeant.

And though, I wasn’t ready, I found myself making my way to her, getting ready for one of the hardest goodbyes. 

She wrapped her arms around my torso and let her head press against my heart. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without you.” 

For the first time that night, she wasn’t faking a smile or putting on a face. I knew when she was saying goodbye that she was only laughing and grinning for everyone else, but underneath it all, she was experiencing a great sadness that no one else could understand. Everyone was just as excited as we were for this baby, if for no other reason than I was finally going to have a family of my own. That I’d finally found the people who were going to be there for me forever. And maybe it was that knowledge, the knowledge of how happy this baby made others, was the reason she never let it show just how hard it was for her. Otherwise, it’d ruin the fantasy. And so she wore happiness like a mask to hide the profound pain that would’ve wounded our spirits. 

“Hey, I’m not leaving you forever,” I whispered somberly, hugging her a little tighter. “And if anything happens, I’m just a phone call away.” As much as I tried to believe my words, neither of us could find the truth in it. Even I knew I wasn’t just a phone call away. I’d be miles and miles and miles away from two of the best things that have ever happened from me. 

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from me, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the hope that I hadn’t already seen them. “I should probably let you go now.” She laughed lightly. 

Our bodies parted, but I had yet to let go of her hand. I shook it up and down gently as I told her, “I love you.”

She shook my hand back in just the same manner. “We love you, too.” 

A smile crept onto my face after the immediate realization of what she meant. 

My girls.

At last, when I walked up the steps to the jet, I finally let go of her hand at the last moment possible, and even after we released hands, our arms stayed outstretched for a passing second as the distance between them got further and further. With the warmth of her hand leaving mine vacantly cold, I watched as she replaced it on the very top of her stomach, as if to say, “We’ll be okay.” 

_ _ _

“Reid?” 

I refocused my vision to Morgan who was calling my name. From the look on his face, I realized he probably tried to get my attention multiple times before this. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” I shook my head to clear my mind, but it didn’t work. A part of me was still in another world, lingering in thought. 

My mind would never shut up about her, but it seemed like today, it was firing all these things at me at 2x speed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact event that I felt guilty for, but really - take your pick. It could’ve been anything, it could’ve been everything. 

It could’ve been the fact that I was here and she wasn’t. It could’ve been the fact that in those last moments I saw her, I realized just how strong she was being this entire time, and how I was asking her to be even stronger, as if the weight of the world wasn’t enough. It could’ve been the realization that she was struggling this entire time, but never asked for help, thinking that she’d be a burden - the very thing she made us promise not to let her be. That is the reason after all, that she told us not to let her pregnancy be an excuse for anything. Because if she didn’t contribute anything, then she’d be holding us back - she’d be dead weight. I knew that, and yet, what did I do?

Nothing. I walked away and boarded that fucking jet like a brainless idiot.

I should’ve stayed with her. 

Morgan’s eyes turned to slits while he tossed the manila folder onto the table, seemingly setting it aside so it wouldn’t be a distraction from his question. “What’s going on, man?” 

I shrugged, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just zoned out, that’s all.” 

Clearly exasperated, he said, “Come on, man. Don’t do that. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

Whether it was defeat or a sweet surrender, I tucked my hands in my pockets and let my head hang low, eyes glued to the ground. Unexpectedly, I was sniffling and wiping my nose before I could register that tears were already coming. “I’m just worried about her.” 

It felt stupid to admit, especially considering I saw her only 8 hours, 37 minutes, and 12 seconds ago. But the absence of her and our baby was growing more and more apparent with every passing moment I spent in this office without her. Usually, she would be here to keep me company, bothering me while I located the comfort zone - not that she ever really did bother me. I quite liked her presence. 

Sometimes, when I was left alone, the room would get too quiet, and it’d just be me and my thoughts. And maybe she knew how scared of my own mind I was when it wandered, so she never let me be alone with it - never let the room get too quiet. She would talk and talk and talk, and I could never get tired of listening. Her voice was like white noise. If she was here, things would be as they always were. I would be standing at the map, and she’d no doubt be sitting in a chair, rubbing gentle circles around her protruding stomach as I felt her watching me intently. 

“Found it.” I would say, drawing a big red circle around the zone. 

To which she would say, “You’re a genius.” 

Sure, I’ve been called ‘genius’ a million times before, but it never felt the same as when she said it. 

Morgan could see the invisible pain in my chest, and he pulled me in by my shoulder to wrap his arm around me. It might not have looked like it, but it was the most reassuring hug he could’ve given me. I can’t explain it, but it felt like (y/n)’s warmth and love had possessed his body and he was radiating it now. 

“I know it’s scary, man, and honestly, we all wish we could be with her right now. But trust me when I tell you she’s not alone.” He treaded carefully with his words, and I could tell there was something he wasn’t saying but that wanted me to figure out.

I didn’t even have to verbalize my question because soon enough, when Morgan pulled back, his phone began to ring.

“It’s Garcia.” He told me, though he didn’t answer the call, which was weird enough. But then he gestured to the computer on the table, and so I half-heartedly watched as the screen changed from the blue background to a video call with Garcia. 

And who else would be sitting beside her but my wife?

“Look who I’ve got with me!” Garcia squealed, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“You’re supposed to be on bedrest.” I playfully scolded her.

“I was! I was, I promise. But after I said goodbye to you guys, I went home and got four hours of sleep, and then I went to my doctors appointment, but then when I was driving home, I thought why would I go back there when I’ve got everything I need right here?” She motioned around Garcia’s lair, even lifting up a hospital-go bag that Penelope no doubt compiled just for her. If there was anyone I trusted to take good care of her, it was Garcia. 

Like I said before, I learned to expect (y/n) not to follow the rules. So naturally, she found a way to still work even on maternity leave. 

At this point, the rest of the team neatly filed into the room, erupting in cheers of excitement at the sight of (y/n) in the bat cave. 

“Is everything okay?” JJ worriedly asked. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine! Baby looks good, my blood pressure’s getting better, so we’re doing okay.” She smiled proudly, and so did I. That was her first appointment on her own, and though it couldn’t have been easy, especially this late in her term, she did it anyway. Because that’s my girl.  

“When are you due, again?” Kate asked (y/n), earning an enthusiastic, “Doctor says if she’s on time, New Year’s Eve!” 

It never failed to make me smile whenever she brought up her due date. She was always excited to proclaim that our daughter might be brought into the world at the exact time we brought in the new year. 

“But if I’m early, it could be any day now.” She explained. 

Here’s where I had to cut in. “Hopefully not any day now! I don’t wanna miss it.” 

“You won’t!” She promised through a wide grin.

Something else you should know about my girl? She always keeps her promises. 

And on January 1, at exactly 12:00 - just as promised - I had the privilege of watching (y/n) deliver a healthy 6 pound and 9 ounce baby girl.

The weight of my whole world.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Can you tell I love it when someone says “my girl”? I think that’s my favorite pet name ever. 

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