#thank you again for the request!! hope you dont mind double fics

[waterfallofspace]

Another one for @onetrickponi's lovely ask

The second idea I had for this request! from ~this list~ In celebration of you starting B/uddy D/addies, here is a little R/ei content! (Featuring K/azuki, he's the other buddy after all!) Bit of a shorter one, so hopefully you can forgive two fics for the one request (and two tags haha sorry <3) There isn't anything spoiler-wise in this, just basic knowledge of the characters, though maybe a touch of implication you'll understand after watching more of it! 1.6k words, prompt #17, story under cut! 17. "What did you do to your nose to piss it off like this?" (References to swearing, and mild violence, in case anyone doesn't like those!)

~~~~~~~

“hahh’gnnt-! eh’knngt-!uhhh” 

“Bless you.”

“hihh- dntsh’uh-! ah’gnxt-!” 

“And again.”

“knndt-ingxt-hh’enDGT’uhh-!”

“Christ, Rei.” 

Kazuki lifts his eyes from the meal he’s preparing to stare at the figure on the couch. Each burst has Rei ducking into his chest, controller never leaving his hands. Despite the onslaught, he’s maintaining a solid lead in the race he’s playing. ‘It would be impressive if it wasn’t so concerning.’ 

“htxxgt-! ingdt’uh-!”

“Are you gonna live?”

“I’m f- huhh’knGDT’guhh-! fine.” 

Rolling his eyes pointedly, Kazuki lets a huff fall from his throat. Rei responds by attempting to rub his nose on his shoulder without looking away from the screen. ‘Honestly a little pathetic… Man, I wish I had my phone on me. This would look great as my new wallpaper.’ 

“Maybe I’d believe you if-”

“hh’dznxt’huhh-!”

“-You could get through the word fine-”

“aH’INdxxt’uhh-!” 

“-without sneezing. Or let me get through it for that matter.”

“That’s not a g- ih’gnxxt’huhh-! good system.”  

“Jeez, you sound awful.”

“Thanks.” 

The silence resumes its place over the room, Kazuki trying to focus on his steak as the strangled noises from Rei carry on. ‘At this rate he’s gonna pass out. I’ve never heard him go at it this much… sure, he has a few allergies, maybe the odd sneeze here or there, but nothing like this…’

Kazuki yelps as the smell of smoke pulls him from his thoughts. He turns the stove off with a hiss, pouring the steak onto a plate. Over on the couch, Rei turns his gaze towards the noise.

“You knxgt’uhh-! burnt it.” 

“Yeah I know! I was a little distracted by your-”

“eh’dngt-! knnxxt’huh-!”

“Exactly. This is your fault, you hear me! You’re eating the burnt one!”

“No I’m not. heh’dnNT’uhh-!”

“You- Fine! But I’m not eating it either!” 

“Okay.” 

“I really hate you sometimes, have I mentioned that?”

“eh’gznGT-! Yes.” 

Rei faces back towards the game, muttering to himself as the character on screen takes a sharp turn. Kazuki feels his eyebrow twitch, his mouth hanging open at the outright disregard for his food.

‘I work all day to make a nice meal, but does he appreciate it? No! No he does not! I’ll give him the burnt one- not like he was gonna compliment my food anyways… but maybe he’ll just not eat it… then it goes to waste… what a-’ 

“------- Kazuki?” 

“Huh?”

Pulling his attention back into the room, Kazuki attempts to decode the nonsense Rei just threw his direction in his mind. ‘Something something my name… Uh… Something about food maybe… Damn I wasn’t listening.’ His hands idly continue plating the food as he tries to recall the words.

“hh’knGT’uh-!”

“Bless you.”

“You didn’t hear me.”

It’s not a question, more of a statement. Feeling a heat rise into his face, Kazuki considers lying to save his pride. ‘As if there’s any left to save anyways…’ Curiosity wins in the end, and he brings a hand to the back of his neck, offering a sheepish smile. 

“No, I didn’t. Can you repeat it?”

“I asked if- hh’enDT-! eh’dxNGT’shoo-! heh’knTISH’iew-!” 

Rei brings a hand to his face as the third one breaks through, both wincing at the loss of control. He pinches his nose, Kazuki flinching again at the harsh nature of the action. With a small shudder, Rei attempts to speak again, keeping his fingers gripping his nose. ‘That’s gotta be painful-’ 

“I asked if the food was ready.” 

“Uh… Y- yeah…”

“Okay.”

Kazuki finds himself setting the table, mind still focused on the way Rei’s nose is shivering behind his hand. ‘He should just let it out… but it’s not really my place to tell him that. I know it’s a ‘thing’ with him.’ Still, as Rei sits down and Kazuki notices the water lingering in his eyes, it’s too much for him to ignore. 

“Why are you doing that?”

“Doihhng what? nnGt-! knxt-!”

“Doing that. Stopping them like that.”

“Oh. Habit, I suppose.”

“It can’t be good for you. It’s giving me a headache, and I’m not even the one sneezing!”

“I’m not- ihh’gnt-! hH’gNxxt-! in pain.”

“Oh really? Because the way you just winced says you’re lying.” 

There’s no answer, but Rei does drop his hand, starting to cut his steak into smaller pieces. ‘Not admittance, but maybe as close as I’m gonna get with him. I’ll accept it.’ Starting to eat his own, Kazuki groans as the burnt taste invades his mouth. Across from him Rei ducks into his shoulder with a smile that gets Kazuki’s blood boiling.

“And what’s so funny?! This is your fault after all. You should be thanking me for giving you the good one! Even though I know you’re not gonna appreciate all the effort that it took.” 

“ih’tischhiew-! heh’kieshh’tiew-!” 

“Bless you.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t think this means we’re through! Just because I still have manners, unlike some people, doesn’t mean I’m forgiving you for ruining my beautiful creation.”

“Okay. hh’keshh’tiew-!”

“I gotta ask… what’s up with that?” 

Rei gives him a measured look, raising his napkin to scrub at his nose. ‘Mental note: wash that one separately.’ Opening his mouth, likely with the intention to reply, Rei suddenly freezes, bringing his wrist up and flinching delicately in it with another round. 

“eh’tishhiew-! heh’kieshh’tiew-! ashhh’iew-!”

“Seriously Rei, what did you do to your nose to piss it off like this?”

“I don’t- ah’tishhiew-! heHh-! ih’keschh’tiew-! know.”

“What?! How do you not know?”

“I haven’t done- huh’teAZSHH’kiew-! Oh-”

“Bless you.”

“-Haven’t done anything different today.” 

As Rei pauses to scrub at his face, with his hands this time, Kazuki feels his mind start to race through the day. ‘I woke up early, Rei was still asleep in the tub. I made breakfast, everything was fine. He woke up, he was fine, we ate. He played games, I did laundry, then he chang-’ A realization dawns in Kazuki’s eyes as they widen and begin to scan Rei. In return he pauses the attack on his sinuses to meet the stare being thrown his way.

“What..?” 

“I uh… I think this might be my fault…” 

“How? hh’keZZShh’tiew-! knnt’shiew-! ihh’nnGT’iew-!”

“Bless you. W- well, I bought this new detergent, it was on sale ‘buy one get two free’, I couldn’t pass up that offer!”

“Okay?”

“And so I used it for the first time today… including when I washed your clothes, like the hoodie you put on about halfway through the day.”

“Oh. hH’DNtzshh’kiew-!”

“Bless you- I’m sorry, if I knew you were so allergic I never would have-”

“I’m not.”

Kazuki feels his eye start to twitch again. He tries to form words, but only succeeds in gaping in Rei’s direction, mouth opening and shutting silently. ‘He’s… is he actually… It wouldn’t be wrong to punch him, would it? Maybe just knock him on the back of the head? He’s a tough assassin, he could take it, right?’ Instead of following through, Kazuki finds himself simply staring at Rei until the other man starts to shift nervously under his gaze.

“You’re making me uncomfortable. eh’kZSHhh’tiew-!”  

“What. The hell. Do you mean. ‘You’re not’.” 

“I’m not allergic.” 

“You’re messing with me, right? Hilarious, Rei.”

“It’s not a joke. I d- heh’knNGt-! don’t have allergies.”

Standing slowly, Kazuki makes his way around the table, a smile void of any emotion starting to form across his face. Rei watches vaguely as he resumes picking at his food, until a slap to the back of his head brings his focus squarely onto Kazuki.

“Ow. What wa-”

“What the shit do you mean you ‘don’t have allergies’? Have you heard yourself? You think this is just how normal people sneeze? It’s not!”

“I’ve never been allergic hH’KEShhh’tiew-! to anything before.” 

“Are- Do you not remember the time we had that job where you had to wait in the garden? By the time we’d got the information we needed you could barely open your eyes they were so swollen.”

A faint blush starts to show across Rei’s face as he attempts to hide behind his hair, bringing his hands up again to scrub at his rapidly pinkening nose. Deciding not to wait for the inevitable denial, Kazuki stands and heads to the kitchen. Rummaging through a drawer he grabs the allergy meds, making another mental note to return the detergent and rewash Rei’s clothes. 

Returning to the table he hands Rei the pills, chuckling at the confused look he’s met with. ‘For a trained assassin who’s practically a master at his craft, man he can be dumb when it comes to… well… anything else.’ He grabs a glass of water, popping out a couple from the blister pack and grabbing Rei’s hand, placing them in it.

“You swallow those.”

“Why?”

“They will help with the allergies that you refuse to acknowledge.”

“I don-”

“Predictable as ever, Rei. I don’t care if you admit it or not, I’m not eager for you to disrupt the rest of the day with that constant-”

“heH’TISHhh’kiew-!”

“Exactly. You also need to change out of that hoodie. You’re literally just soaking in your ‘non allergen’. Though, the sneezes have slowed down a bit. Maybe that’s from not suppressing them into oblivion constantly!”

“Maybe.”

“You sure are a man of few words, aren’t you?” 

Rei simply grunts in response, swallowing the pills with a grimace ‘Such a child-’ before pulling off the hoodie and tossing it on the floor ‘Are you serious?!’ and curling back up on the couch. Kazuki lets out a deep sigh, grabbing the hoodie and throwing it into the laundry room before starting to clean up the plates. 

“hH’kesschh’tiew-!”

“Bless you, Rei.”

“Th- thanks…”

The response shakes Kazuki to his core, a dramatic tear starting to form in his eye. ‘He thanked me… I’m so proud! Still can’t clean up after himself… but I’ll fix that too.’ Casting his gaze back over to Rei, Kazuki allows himself to pause and for a moment, just a moment, feel content.

I’ll fix him. And maybe doing that… maybe that’ll fix me too. 

[halfmoondaze]

Can I request a Jack Harlow fic angst filled pls.. I’m thinking Jack and reader have a child together but after months of Jack promising he would never put anything above you both Jack is back hanging in the club and just getting really busy with his career. So you end things with him and decide it’s time to co parent so you can move on and find someone to settle down with.

Jack is so upset and every time he comes to pick up your kid he lingers to try and have a chat and find out how your doing but your not saying much at all. You then see on your phone that Jack has been pictured out with a new woman AND your kid and you lose it because Jack never even told you about this woman. So next time Jack comes round to visit your in full glam getting ready for a double date with your best friend. But maybe the reader rings Jack at like 2am because the blind date has gone wrong and Jack comes to help? Idk maybe a silly idea lol thanks if you do write it

author's note: thanks for requesting. i hope you dont mind me making a few changes to it. but I hope you like it

"Fuck" Jack sighed when he saw the 7 missed texts and 3 missed calls on his phone from Y/N.

He said he'll be here this time. One of the many empty promises he did, and Y/N wasn't sure why she still expect him to change.

It seemed like Y/N and Jack had this conversation over and over again. At first, it was always these explosive arguments where Y/N would grow frustrated at Jack. And he knew better than to say something, so he would just bite his tongue to avoid saying something he'll regret afterward. But he knew she was right.

As he entered their shared apartment, he glanced at the clock on the wall. 4 am. As he walked through the house he found a note on the kitchen counter. dinner is in the microwave.

He sighed in frustration as he ran his hands through his curls. He wished Y/N would give him a sign that she still wanted to fight for their relationship, but I guess he couldn't blame her because is not like he's been keeping his promises for a while now.

He quietly walked to their shared bedroom and crept inside to find y/n opening her eyes as soon as she felt his presence.

He walked to the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry I woke you" he whispered.

"It's ok, I was waiting for you"

"I'm sorry, I lost track of time"

Y/N just sighed as she sat on the bed.

"Look, I don't want to fight. I don't think I even have the energy to do so anymore. But I think we should take a break"

"What?" he said taken back by what she was saying.

"Jack, we're clearly not on the same page here. I've been waiting for the past six months for you to change. For things to get better and for you to be more present. And to be honest, I feel like I'm running in circles in here"

"Y/N-"

"Wait, please let me finish" she said calmly. "I love you, I really do, and I always will. But we continue like this I'm afraid I would grow to hate you and I don't want to do that"

She choked on her words as tears started falling from her eyes.

Jack took her hand and gently stroked it.

"I would always love you. You gave me a beautiful daughter which is the most perfect thing I've ever done. But I can't carry on like this, I really can't"

"Y/N, it doesn’t have to be this way. I can change, I promise things would get better, I just need to-"

"Jack, I got tired of fighting and you got tired of trying. It's just not working anymore. We have to face reality. It's too late" she said stroking his cheek.

It was over.

The following months were hard, but you and Jack were finally at a point in your relationship where the two of you were civil with each other, which made co-parenting very easy and smooth. He would come to pick up Aitana on the weekends, with exceptions when he was on tour obviously, while she would stay with you during weekdays.

You answer the doorbell to find Jack standing at the other side of the door.

"Hey Jack, Aitana should be down any minute"

"Yeah" he said. "So, how you've been?"

You were taken back by his sudden interest in your life.

"I've been good, thanks for asking"

"So is there a lucky guy-"

"Daddy!"

Y/N sighed in relief.

Aitana came running to Jack's arms.

"Hey bubs, ready for a long weekend just the two of us?"

"Yeah" she squealed in excitement.

"Ok, say goodbye to your mom"

"Bye mommy" Aitana said leaning into Y/N and kissing her on the cheek.

"Goodbye sweetie, have fun"

"Y/N"

"Jack"

Then she closed the door behind her.

That night, Y/N invited her best friend, Rowan, to stay over. They ordered Thai food and watched re-runs of Sex & the City while catching up.

"Wait, so you got tickets to see Hamilton?"

"Yeah, Norman surprised me with them over dinner last night"

"That's nice, where did he take you?"

"Redbird. By the way, I'm glad you and Jack are on good terms. I saw him with a woman and Aitana, sitting a few tables away from me. I didn't know you were all on such good terms, I could never-"

"What? What woman?"

"A red-haired girl, she seemed close to Aitana. Wait, I thought you knew…"

Y/N was beyond pissed. They had finally reached a point where Aitana was just getting used to her parents being divorced, and he was already introducing their daughter to some woman. Without consulting her first…

Friday night came faster than you expected. You were currently putting on your earrings when you heard the doorbell.

"Coming" you said while walking to the door.

You opened the door to find Jack standing by the other side of the door, stunned by seeing Y/N all dolled up.

"Aitana would be down in a few seconds"

"You look great, any special occasion?"

"Oh, I'm going on a double date"

"A date? with who?"

Y/N arched her brow not expecting him to be so interested in your dating life.

"His name is Craig, we've been on a few dates. Why the sudden interest?"

"Because I would like to know the person you're dating before I let you introduce him to my daughter?"

"Your daughter?" you asked in disbelief crossing your arms.

"Y/N, you know what I mean"

"No, I don't. In fact, I don't think you are one to make that decision considering you being going around with your girlfriend and our daughter without consulting me first"

"What are you talking about?"

"Rowan saw you on Redbird, with a redhaired woman and Aitana"

Jack looked at Y/N like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Y/N, I can explain-"

"I don't wanna hear it Jack, I'-"

At that moment, you got a text from Craig.

"I have to go, they are already here. The door key is below the plant pot. Make sure to close when you leave"

Before he could say something, she was gone.

It was 2 am when Jack's phone went off.

He glanced at the screen to see it was Y/N.

"Y/N is everything ok"

Y/N immediately started silently crying when she heard the concern in his voice.

"Jack, um… I'm sorry I know I shouldn't be calling this late"

"No, no, no, it's ok. What happened?"

"It's Craig. After Rowan left with her date, this random guy that was passing by made a flirty comment about me and he got pissed at me for not saying anything and humiliated me in front of the whole restaurant"

Jack was fuming at what he just heard but remained composed to avoid unsettling her.

"Where are you?"

"I'm outside the restaurant"

"I'll come and get you"

"What about Aitana?"

“She’s asleep. I’ll just bring her along in the car”

She could hear the keys through the phone.

“Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in a few”

After that, Y/N hung up.

When Jack pulled into the restaurant, he saw Y/N standing alone outside like a lost puppy.

“Hey” he said in a tender tone of voice as soon as she climbed to the passenger seat.

The shift of energy and Jack’s act of kindness triggered her because at that moment she broke into tears.

Jack wasted no time and pulled her into his embrace and let her cry on his shoulder.

After a few minutes, she calmed down and Jack proceeded to drive back to his apartment.

“Jack, I thought you were taking me home”

“I didn’t want you to be by yourself, just because we are not together anymore doesn’t mean I don’t care about you” he said before opening the door and taking Aitana into his arms.

When you got inside, Jack put Aitana to bed, while you stood by the doorway.

“I’ll get you some clothes for you to change, you can sleep in my room”

“No, that won’t be necessary, I can sleep on the couch”

“No, of course not. I can’t have you sleeping on the couch. Just take my bed. Is ok, really” he said kissing the top of her head before heading to his room to get some clothes for Y/N.

The following morning Y/N got up early after taking a shower. She walked through the living room, only to find Jack making breakfast.

“Hey”

“Hey”

“Leaving so soon?” he asked softly with a hint of hurt in his voice.

“I don’t want to confuse Aitana, and get her hopes up”

“Then it shouldn’t be that way. We can give it another try”

“Jack, you’re dating someone”

“I’m not. Well, not anymore. You were right, I should’ve never introduced her to Aitana without your knowledge, that was fucked up. When she started pressuring me about putting her needs above Aitana’s, I knew I needed to put an end to it. Besides, I only did that because I was trying to get over you” he sighed. “I know I fucked everything up when I let you leave. You just wanted me to be more present and I couldn’t even do that. And I know you have given me countless chances to prove myself and even though I don’t deserve any of them, would you consider giving us another chance?”

Y/N couldn’t even lie to herself. She wanted this as much as he did.

“Ok” she softly said.

“Serious?”

Y/N nodded in response smiling from ear to ear.

Jack close the gap between them and cupped her face with his hands and pulled her into a kiss.

And just like that, they were together again. The way it was always meant to be.

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Meeting the Family // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hello there, could I please request Anthony bridgerton and reader fic where hes introducing the reader to his family for the first time and shes really nervous but the family ends up loving her more than him? Thanks, I absolutely love your work!! Please dont overwork yourself darling❤ - @lespaceboi

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun with this request, I love it so so much. I only hope you do too! Lowkey posting this early bc I’m watching the euros final tonight and I won’t have time. 

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, light angst, some worries, lots of fluff, family fluff, Anthony being cute, dialogue heavy, declarations of love.

Word count: 3.6k

Her hands shake uncontrollably as the carriage clatters through London. Taking calming breaths, (Y/N) does her best to stop her shaking hands by gripping her shawl tightly. Her maid, Jayne, looks over at her in concern. “We can always turn back, my lady,” Jayne whispers, “I’m sure Viscount Bridgerton won’t mind postponing to another day.”

(Y/N) smiles warmly at her maid; grateful for the care in her voice. However, she shakes her head. “I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer, Jayne. Anthony’s sister and her husband have travelled all the way from Scotland.”

Jayne sits back against the carriage bench, nodding her head understandingly. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” She offers in comfort.

“I can only hope,” (Y/N) whispers, casting her gaze out of window and into the London streets.

She had met Anthony Bridgerton when shopping for ribbons. An unusual time and place to meet anyone, but Anthony had strolled into the shop and asked to see the best ribbons in the place as nothing would be better than the absolute best for his nieces. (Y/N) had giggled at the tone of his voice; unused to seeing such a powerful figure in such intimate settings. Her laughter had drawn his attention to which a conversation began. By the end of the Viscount’s visit to the ribbon shop, he had asked to see her again.

The visits continued in secrecy, or in as much secrecy as one could afford when holding a peerage. The relationship blossomed; what was once considered a friendship was turning romantic, and (Y/N) could not help her feelings for the Viscount. He had captured her, body and soul. She counted every blessing that Anthony felt the same.

The first glimpse of Bridgerton House steals her breath away. The red brick stands out amongst the paler buildings; Anthony’s wealth already obvious but further personified by the sheer scale of his home. The sweet scent of the violet hyacinths perfume (Y/N)’s carriage; their aroma bringing a small smile to her face as she remembers a masquerade party in Chiswick, a balcony and Anthony’s hands on her waist.

Her carriage rolls to a natural stop; (Y/N)’s heart in her throat as she tears her inquiring gaze from Bridgerton House to Jayne. Jayne smiles and squeezes her lady’s hand, a silent offer of support for the afternoon.

“They’re going to love you,” Jayne whispers, bolstering (Y/N) as best she could as the door to the carriage is opened by (Y/N)’s footman.

Now closer, Bridgerton House is much grander. The deep green iron gates pronounce the family’s wealth further. (Y/N) gulps as she takes step after step down the path to already open front door. Her steps falter slightly as she catches sight of Anthony waiting in the entrance; his hair the usual untameable mess that endears her so.

“You came,” Anthony breathes in greeting; his eyes wide with barely concealed surprise as he takes in the sight of her on his doorstep.

“I came,” (Y/N) answers just as breathlessly. Even the sight of him was enough to leave her gasping for breath; there were moments in their prolonged courtship that she couldn’t quite believe he had chosen her, that he wanted her. As Anthony stands there, his white shirt unbuttoned from the collar with his waistcoat undone, she realises that this is the most casual she had ever seen him. His outfit wasn’t proper, but she doesn’t want it to be. She wants to see him from every angle; she wants to know every Anthony there is. So far, she had found herself besotted with each and every one.

Both remain silent as Anthony offers his arm to her. (Y/N) uses the silence to quash the nerves rioting in her gut; she had never been this nervous, not when she was presented in front of the monarch for her season, and not when she danced with the Prince of Wales at his birthday celebrations two years ago. Now, however, her nerves were beginning to get the better of her.

Anthony pauses their journey. “Are you okay?” He asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“I’m nervous,” (Y/N) confesses bashfully, “What if they don’t like me? What if they hate me so much that you end things? I’m having so much fun with you, Anthony. I don’t want this to end.”

“Hey,” Anthony whispers, taking her face in his hands, urging her to look at him, “You’re going to be fine. They’re going to love you, I know it. I’ve spoken about you so much they feel they already know you.”

“You talk about me?” (Y/N) asks, her voice small.

Anthony presses a kiss to her forehead. “Constantly. I’m surprised they haven’t kicked me out with how much I talk about you.”

“You’re really very sweet.”

“Only because of you,” He flirts, pushing his luck by kissing her quickly.

(Y/N) laughs softly against his mouth. “You’re incorrigible.”

Anthony laughs gently, pulling away from her lips but keeping hold of her hands. “I’m as nervous as you,” He confesses, “But I have you by my side to help me get through just as you have me through this too. Any time you want to go, let me know and I’ll call your carriage back round.”

“Thank you,” She whispers before Anthony continues on down the hall, his hand squeezing hers tightly.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Anthony asks, double checking, voice wavering as they stand outside the door to the drawing room. “My family can be a bit much to meet all at once.”

“We’re nothing of the sort!” A masculine voice shouts from behind the door.

A surprised laugh leaves (Y/N) lips. She covers her mouth to bring back the mask of perfect decorum, not wanting to insult a member of Anthony’s family. “I’m ready when you are,” She whispers, smiling at the eldest Bridgerton.

“Sooner rather than later,” Anthony whispers before opening the door, giving her the first glimpse at his family.

The Bridgerton brood sit around the large drawing room. Sisters and brothers, husbands and wives – they all mix together as they wait for Anthony and his new beau. Each all fall silent as Anthony and (Y/N) enters the room; their first glimpse of her, their first conversation with her. Anthony had spoken about her constantly but refused to let any family meet her until they were both ready.

Now that moment had arrived.

“Mother,” Anthony introduces to the silent room, “This is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) exclaims, smiling at the Bridgerton matriarch. “I’ve heard so much about you all,” She continues, casting her gaze around the room.

“It’s a pleasure for us too, dear (Y/N),” Violet announces, “Anthony has been nothing but a ball of nerves since he announced you would be joining us.”

(Y/N) nods at the matriarch, feeling herself become speechless as she takes in the sheer size of Anthony’s family. It isn’t hard to tell who the Bridgertons are among the group are; they each have the same eyes and smile. “It’s lovely to meet you all,” (Y/N) announces, repeating her earlier words, unable to keep the nerves from entering her voice this time.

“I’m Benedict,” The second eldest introduces, jumping up from his seat on the couch, holding his hand out for her to take.

“The artist!” (Y/N) gasps, “I’ve seen some of your work. You’re exceptionally talented.”

“Thank you,” Benedict blushes, excusing himself with a pat to Anthony’s shoulder, a silent sign that Benedict already approves.

“Help yourself to some tea,” A younger woman exclaims in the brief silence between conversations, “I’d get up to greet you, but it would take twice as long as the conversation itself.”

“Please don’t strain yourself,” (Y/N) offers graciously, “Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Thank you, dear. I’m Daphne, and this is my husband, Simon.” Daphne introduces, her hand landing on the thigh of a handsome man.

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) greets, making her way to an empty seat at a nearby table. There she pours two cups of tea, one for her and one for Anthony, knowing he would be dropping by in a minute or two. The tea steeps as (Y/N) helps herself to one of the many biscuits, taking a small bite of the buttery concoction before reaching for the milk and sugar. This is a routine she has practiced many times before, knowing exactly how long to stir her tea so it wouldn’t burn the tip of her tongue with every sip.

It’s takes less than two minutes for someone to join her at the table. (Y/N) offers the young woman a polite smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Eloise Bridgerton,” introduces the young woman.

“A pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) repeats, feeling herself already grow tired of the words.

“Are you educated, (Y/N)?” Eloise enquires; her keen blue gaze dancing over the young woman.

(Y/N) finishes her sip of tea before nodding at Anthony’s younger sister. “I am,” She answers, “I studied under a very thorough governess, and I am fluent in French and Latin, but I’ve also been fortunate enough to sit in on some lectures at Oxford and Edinburgh.”

“How?” Eloise all but demands, ignoring the stern stare of her mother as she leans forward, elbows on the table. “You must teach me your ways.”

(Y/N) represses an amused smile at Eloise’s antics. “My favourite cousin, Sylvester, was a student at both. I often annoyed him into letting me attend in secret whenever I visited.”

“Did you attend any interesting lectures?”

(Y/N) nods, happy to further indulge the brunette. “Sylvester was a student of medicine, beginning his education at Oxford before continuing on to Edinburgh where he lives now. I’ve attended a few medical lectures, but I pressured him into letting me attend a philosophical debate surrounding Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman.” (Y/N) shakes her head, amused at the memory, “Sylvester didn’t find that one nearly as thrilling as his medical lectures.”

“Anthony!” Eloise calls, gathering the attention of all her brothers, “I’m keeping (Y/N) for myself. You’re going to have to find a new beau, I’m afraid.”

Anthony chuckles, leaving his brothers to their own conversation. “Pray,” He begins, “Just what are the two of you talking about.”

“(Y/N)’s education. Did you know she’s sat in lectures at both Oxford and Edinburgh? I daresay I might attend a few myself.”

Anthony’s hand lands on your shoulder; a warm squeeze has you turning to meet his stare. His smile is fond; his eyes are bright with happiness. “Are you inciting further rebellion in my little sister?”

“Of course not,” (Y/N) playfully scoffs, “Just letting her know that should she want to attend any lectures, I have a connection for her.”

A laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he catches sight of Eloise’s excited wiggle in her chair. “I’m glad you’re getting along,” He murmurs to (Y/N) quietly, dropping an unexpected kiss to her hair before entering a debate with Eloise, explaining why she cannot go about interrupting lectures at prestigious universities.

Leaving the siblings to their bickering, (Y/N) stands from table, wanting to stretch her legs and discover more to the drawing room. By this point in the afternoon, the appeal of company has worn off. The large family now broken off into their own conversations; Francesca and Michael remain sat close together on the couch under the window, Lady Violet remains sat by her eldest daughter – the matriarch keeping a weather eye on her pregnant daughter.

(Y/N) smiles fondly at the scene before turning to one of the many fixed bookshelves in the room; leather bound volumes line the shelves. There wasn’t much for light reading, she thinks to herself as she reads the spines. Much about the War of the Roses and the subsequent Tudor reign, not much in the way of Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron.

“You’re very pretty,” A young girl announces from behind (Y/N). She turns to find two girls, both no older than four or five, their hair matching pigtails, curled into ringlets.

(Y/N) kneels to their height, ignoring the pinching of her corset as she smiles at the young children. “Why thank you,” She states gratefully, “But you know what I would really like?”

“What?” The eldest of the two asks, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Gorgeous pigtails like yours,” (Y/N) smiles, gesturing to their hair.

Both girls break into wide smiles, already won over. “What are your names?” (Y/N) asks.

“I’m Amelia,” The eldest states proudly, “I’m five and a half.”

“I’m Belinda,” The second girl introduces, “I’m four.”

“Well it is lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) compliments, “My name is (Y/N).”

“We know,” Belinda chimes. “Uncle Tony talks about you all the time.”

“He does, does he?” She murmurs amused; catching sight of the brunette doing his best not to intervene on the conversation taking place with his nieces.

Amelia nods. “All the time!” She cries happily. “He talks about your hair, your eyes, your smile.” She breaks off, leaning towards (Y/N) to whisper in her ear. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“Do you think?” (Y/N) questions, unable to keep the eager hope from her voice.

“I know,” Amelia nods sagely, “I heard Uncle Tony tell Mama and Papa.”

(Y/N) presses her lips together to keep the wide smile from growing across her face. She had known that Anthony felt very deeply for her though he had never uttered a word. With a quick glance in Anthony’s direction, she gestures for the two girls to come closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

Amelia and Belinda nod silently; too excited to hear what (Y/N) has to say. “It just so happens,” (Y/N) whispers to the two girls, “That I also love your Uncle Tony.”

“You do?” Belinda squeaks.

“I do,” (Y/N) nods seriously, “I love him very much.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Amelia asks; her blue eyes wide with burning curiosity.

“I think on some level he already knows, but I plan on telling him very soon.”

Both girls squeal in happiness, leaving (Y/N) behind as they run towards their parents. Daphne and Simon greet their children with open arms, wide eyed at their level of noise as they demand their voices to be heard over the hubbub of the rest of the family.

“I don’t suppose you’d enlighten me to this particular conversation,” A warm voice sounds from behind her. The way his arm slips around her waist, as if it were his home, tells (Y/N) that Anthony has found her once more.

“A secret for another day,” (Y/N) teases, turning to face the man that had captured her heart so wholly.

“Will you tell me later?” He asks, pushing out his bottom lip in a pout that has her giggling.

“Perhaps,” She whispers, leaning ever closer to the Bridgerton. “Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” He whispers seriously, “I’d give you the world if I could.”

“I know you would,” She murmurs, “But all I’m asking for is for you to not pester your nieces over what I told them.”

“How did you know?” Anthony asks, voice glum.

(Y/N) brings a gloved hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Because I know you, my dear.”

Anthony leans into the touch, turning his face slightly to press a kiss to her wrist. “I like being your dear.”

“I like being yours too,” She replies earnestly. “Now, I’ve spoken to most of your siblings. Do me the honour of introducing me to Francesca, she came all the way from Scotland, it’s rude that I’ve neglected her.”

“Yes, my darling,” Anthony responds, taking her hand and leading her to the couch where Francesca sits with her husband, Michael.

The day continues in a similar fashion. Bridgerton House had never been quiet when the whole family was in attendance; raucous laughter and loving bickering filled its many corners with noise. The life and laughter of the family bringing the house to life.

As the grandfather clock ticks closer and closer to the evening, (Y/N) finds herself lamenting the fact that she must leave the Bridgerton family so soon.

“I must take my leave,” She announces to sad cries to Amelia and Belinda, already so attached.

“So soon?” Benedict asks, frowning as he wonders when he’ll get to continues his conversation with her. So few wanted to talk about art nowadays.

(Y/N) meets Anthony’s gaze, hating how sad he looks. “I’m having dinner with my parents and their friends. An occasion I simply cannot miss, I’m afraid.”

“Do we know them?” Violet asks in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She had grown fond of the young woman over the course of the afternoon, seeing how perfectly she fit amongst her family, how she brought out the best in her eldest son.

“The St. Clair’s?” (Y/N) enquires, drawing her shawl around her shoulders. “My father has worked with Lady Danbury’s family for a long time. Gareth and I are old friends.”

“Have a wonderful time,” Violet announces, “But please visit us soon.”

“I would love to,” (Y/N) smiles, crossing the room to be by Anthony’s side.

Offering her goodbyes to the large family, (Y/N) takes Anthony’s offered arm, hooking hers through his as they descend the grand marble staircase to the foyer. “Your family are lovely,” (Y/N) compliments as she takes care not to trip over her skirts on the stairs. “You all care for each so much, it’s clear the moment you enter the room.”

“My mother and siblings are the best people I know,” Anthony murmurs, walking beside (Y/N) at a steady pace in order to delay her departure by a minute.

“I can only hope they liked me,” She worries, her teeth biting into her bottom lip in a way that has Anthony restraining himself by gripping her arm tighter.

“You were wonderful,” Anthony murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheekbone before helping her into her carriage.

“Thank you for today,” (Y/N) calls, sticking her hand from the window to prolong the contact between Anthony and herself. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye; wasn’t quite ready to leave him.

“Thank you for coming,” Anthony answers, kissing her hand before tucking it back through the window of her carriage. If they didn’t say goodbye now, they wouldn’t say goodbye at all. If she didn’t leave, he would most likely offer marriage on the pavement than somewhere proper.

Nodding to her footman, Anthony watches her carriage leave. He stands on the doorstep to Bridgerton House until her carriage is no longer in sight. Only then does he let himself release the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Weariness washes over him as he turns to face his childhood home. Inside, in his mother’s drawing room, await his family. Each one ready to give their verdict on the woman he has had the good fortune to fall in love with.

Sighing, he kicks at the ground, knowing he cannot delay this any longer.

His mother and siblings are where he left them; his mother’s drawing room. They fall silent at the sight of him; each clearly unwilling to make the leap and be the first to broach the elephant in the room.

“What do you think of (Y/N)?” Anthony asks; voice loud in the ever so silent room. He meets the eyes of each of his siblings, not missing the way Daphne leans into Simon or the way Michael reaches for Francesca’s hand. They’ve all found their love matches; it was now Anthony’s turn.

Colin takes the fall for his family, standing to face his eldest brother and titled peer. He clears his throat, fidgeting on the spot before he eventually pauses all movement, breaking into a smile to declare, “We all loved her!”

“You do?” Anthony asks, falling onto a nearby couch in shock.

Violet smiles at her eldest son. “We do. (Y/N) is a sweetheart and looks to be just as taken with you as you are with her.”

Blush begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. “I can only hope, dear mother.”

“It’s true,” Amelia chimes, her young face bright with joy. “She told Belinda and I.”

“You have found your love match, my darling boy,” Violet states warmly.

“It does help that (Y/N) is a trifle more tolerable than you, dear brother,” Benedict teases, laughter bright in his Bridgerton blue eyes.

“And so educated!” Eloise gasps, “We had an enlightening conversation about Wollstonecraft’s Vindication on the Rights of Women.”

“She was wonderful with Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne murmurs, her hand falling protectively over her pregnant stomach.

“Why do I get the feeling that you prefer (Y/N) to me?” Anthony murmurs, mischief bright in his eyes and evident in his voice.

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Gregory points out, “I only hope (Y/N) can keep up with your obsession with Pall Mall.”

“A worthy obsession,” Anthony argues, mind wandering to the games he could play with (Y/N).

“She’s wonderful,” Violet interrupts, a large smile on her face as she takes the final say.

Anthony smiles widely at his mother; constantly grateful for her love and care throughout his life. She had been lost after the death of his father, as had Anthony, but Anthony had never truly understood what it would feel like to lose someone you love as wholeheartedly as his mother loved his father.

Until now, that is. The mere thought of losing her sends a lance of pain through his chest, cutting short his breath and increasing his panic. Anthony shakes his head to rid himself of such thoughts and feelings.

Calm enough, he faces his family once more. “I plan on proposing to (Y/N),” He announces, showing his family the ring box that has been sitting heavily in his trouser pocket all day.

“Thank goodness,” Francesca murmurs, smiling indulgently at her big brother. “I cannot wait to call her sister.”

“Indeed,” Anthony murmurs, a loving smile on his face, “I cannot wait to call her my wife.”

******

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @sexysirius @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz​ @iammirrorball​ @writeroutoftime​ @joyfullymulti​ @nuttytani​ @multifandomfix​ @freyathehuntress​ @lespaceboi​

Taglists are open! Drop me an ask if you would like to be added!

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ Red Pyjama ~

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵; Changbin x gn!reader. fluff! use of nicknames, kissing, swearing

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵; 0.7 k words

𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥; yes!~ thank you baby!!

𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦; im gonna do some “regular” requests and some from the prompt list as well as make sure that there is not one member thats in two fics right after each other,,, ya know need some variation so the requests dont go in an order really,,, hope you guys can understand!! <33

oh and also dont mind the header pictures being odd sizes, im just testing out what i like but i think ive set on a certain layout,,, i think heheh

2. “They don’t love you like I do” ; Moe Shop - Love Taste

32. “Say you want me” ; 5 Seconds Of Summer - Youngblood

"binnie? changbin? you need to get up now"

Early mornings were Changbin's worst nightmare, he wanted to stay close to your warm body in the comforting space underneath the covers but unfortunatly you wouldn't allow that. You gently put your hand on his shoulder, shaking him in an attempt to bring the boy to consciousness but failing as he rubbed his face against your pillow, taking in your scent.

You sighed, looking at your boyfriend that seemed so small in the double bed, wearing his red checkered pyjama pants and displaying his defined abs as he somehow during the night managed to undress his upperbody in his sleep, a wellknown habit of his. The fact that the sun shone through the blinds and reflected on his toned body didn't make it easier for you to leave either, wanting to cuddle him all day but knowing you couldn't.

"binnie, come on! i need to go to work soon and you're gonna be late for dance practice,,, again"

Not even a budge. Having no better ideas you decided to lay down next to him, crawling under the covers and wrapping your arms around his buff figure. He replied with a lazy smile that faded as he slowly fell back into his slumber.

"please wake up, i need to go to work baby~" you said again but in a more whiny voice, trying to catch his attention and cringing at your own antics.

"why do you need work? i love you , they don't love you like i do"

Scoffing, you poked his sides causing him to squirm around and laugh, his eyes still closed with short wispy lashes softly covering them.

"you are such a baby, i can't even go to work without you being a tiny baby!" you laugh, teasing him by rubbing the tip of your nose against his slightly flushed cheek, not giving him an actual peck. He tsked, slowly opening his eyes and squinting as the sun blinded him. After yawning he gazed at you that was already dressed to go to the office job that Changbin hated. 

“yeah, i’m a baby, what about it?” he grinned, pulling you closer to him and softly kissing you on the lips, feeling the warmth radiating off his body. Changbin’s kisses were always soft, filled with nothing but adoration and love. His hands cupped your cheeks to which you chuckled into the kiss, hair falling in your face. You pulled away for a moment, a string of saliva seperating you, feeling Changbin’s hot breath near your swollen lips. 

“you don’t want me” he pouted, eyes glossy like a puppy as you smiled, “say you want me, y/n. say it!”

“of course i want you baby but work wants me too and besides, you have stuff to do as well so move.” you said sweetly to which Changbin gave out a annoyed whimper, not wanting to leave the bed that was a thousand times cozier with you in it. You wrapped your hand around his jaw, rubbing his cheekbone with the rough pad of your thumb. He smiled at you, blinking slowly like a cat signaling it’s love to it’s owner. 

“How much is the time?” he whispered and you pulled away from his snuggly figure, searching your phone beneath the covers by tapping your hand around, bringing it closer to your face and seeing the digits light up, your pupils dilating in panic.

“fuck! i’m late!” you say, pushing the covers towards your sleepy boyfriend that got startled by your loud voice so early in the morning.

“how much is it?” he asked again to which you replied “8:15″ causing Changbin to fly up out of bed, only then noticing that his pyjama top was on the slightly dusty bedroom floor.

“i’m late because of you y/n” he says with a teasing laughter, running to the bathroom before you tickle him. You sighed, knocking on the bathroom door before leaving the shared apartment.

“breakfast is on the table, love you binnie!” you shouted. 

“love you baby!” Changbin shouted back from the other side of the white wooden door of the bathroom. A shy smile creeped up on your lips, heart fluttering at his words as you put the key in the lock, turning and locking the door before leaving. You really loved him and he loved you back. 

[bibbawrites]

Beach Baby - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 4 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES YOU CAN READ PART 1 HERE , THE PREQUEL (PART 2) HERE AND PART 3 HERE 

Request: none

Word Count: 3907 words 😳

Summary: Part 4 of Single Dad!Charlie, Margaux and Charlie reunite with Owen in Hawaii after months apart due to lockdown, just in time for Margaux’s fourth birthday 

Warnings: technically underage drinking, i guess technically i have to warn that this is implied mutual crushing between owen and charlie, if you dont feel comfortable with romantic chowen do not read 

A/N: i couldn’t get this out of my head so i had to write it, and boy did i write it this is the longest non-chaptered fic ive ever written and honestly i could have made it longer but i didnt want it to drag on any more that it already did this is literally more than double the length of my normal fics, i got very carried away

also just a note that i’m not trying to be rude about the fans who met the boys at the airport and i’m sure in real life the boys were happy to stop and chat, but from a parents perspective charlie’s first instinct would be to protect his daughter so i just thought i’d add that. please don’t get upset for that part!

sorry for any mistakes, its 4am and im half asleep trying to read through this to post lol anyways, hope you enjoy! 

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ @littlemissaddict​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic​ @headheartbellarke​ @lovesanimals​ @bartok-the-magnificent​ @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @katrina765​ @fandomxreaders​​ @ifilwtmfc

“Papa!” Margaux screamed, racing across the airport to Owen, the blond boy scooping up the nearly four year old and spinning her around when she reached him. 

“Maggie! I’ve missed you so much.” Owen exclaimed, pulling his mask down to pepper her cheeks with kisses, causing Margaux to giggle loudly. “Where’s your Daddy?” 

“Right behind you.” Owen spun around to find Charlie standing there, clearly smiling at him despite the bandana that covered his mouth, and Owen’s heart skipped a beat at how good Charlie looked in the early morning sun streaming through the airport windows. 

Meanwhile Charlie was thinking the exact same thing, admiring how attractive Owen was, especially when he was in his dad mode. He really understood why girls had such a weakness for cute boys with cute kids when he saw Owen with Margaux. 

Charlie stepped forward, pulling Owen into a tight hug and Margaux whined in complaint at being squished between her dad and her self declared papa. They pulled away from each other, both boys fighting to hide their slightly flushed cheeks. 

“I’m hungry.” Margaux whined, and Charlie was snapped out of his heart eyes daze, his whole focus back on his daughter. 

“Let’s get some food into you before our plane leaves then eh.” He replied, and Margaux nodded happily. 

Feeling bold Owen grabbed onto Charlie’s hand, lacing their fingers together. It wasn’t unusual for them to do this but it was the first time doing it when they were well known enough that someone might recognise them. But neither of them really cared. They were just happy to be back together again. 

- 

The minute they arrived in Hawaii they were met with fans. As much as he loved meeting the fans Charlie couldn’t help but sigh slightly as he tried to protect Margaux as much as he could.

It wasn’t that the fans didn’t know about Margaux, because it was a well known fact that he was a single dad, it was more that he wanted to keep her away from the spotlight. She hadn’t asked for her dad to become a well known actor, and she didn’t deserve to have her life changed because of it. He was determined to give her the most normal life possible. 

Eventually they made it to the villa house that they were staying in while in Hawaii, and after throwing their bags into their rooms it was time to have a bit of fun. 

“Swim time swim time!” Margaux sung, running laps around the living room. Kenny chuckled at the small girl, looking up at Charlie who was following closely behind her. 

“It seems like only yesterday she was a tiny two year old who cried every time you left her side.” He said, and Charlie smiled fondly, sitting down on the chair next to Kenny. 

“She’s growing up too fast.” He agreed. “I can’t believe in less than 24 hours time I’ll be a dad to a four year old.” 

Margaux tripped on the tiles, landing with a clatter, her bottom lip jutting out. Charlie jumped up, but before he could even think about moving across the room Owen was by Margaux’s side, helping her up and pulling her into a tight hug. He whispered something in her ear and Margaux giggled loudly, her fall already forgotten.

Charlie smiled softly at the scene, his heart filled with love for both the blond boy and his little princess. 

“Daddy.” Margaux called, snapping Charlie out of his daze. 

“Yeah baby?” He answered, finally making his way across the room. 

“Can we swim now?” She asked, grabbing onto his leg. Charlie subconsciously ran his hand through her soft curls.  

“Of course we can.” He replied. Margaux glanced up at Owen. 

“Papa too?” She questioned. 

“Papa too.” Charlie agreed. Margaux peered past him, her gaze landing on Kenny.

“Coming Uncle Kenny?” She asked, and Kenny laughed, standing up. 

“Coming Little Gillespie.” He replied. 

Margaux smiled contently, taking both Charlie and Owen’s hands to pull them outside towards the pool. 

She really did have every single one of them wrapped around her little finger. 

- 

Dinner that night was special, as it was supposed to be Carolynn’s last day on the island. They decided on a joint party for her last night, as well as celebrating Margaux’s birthday a day early. 

They had headed to a tiny restaurant near their villa, and Charlie had allowed Margaux to pick whatever she wanted from the menu, not that it mattered because she chose chicken nuggets and chips anyways.

The meal was nice, and before they knew it they were arriving back at the villa. Jeremy, Carolynn and Kenny all excused themselves for bed, and Tori settled into the couch, flicking the TV on. 

“Bath and bed time baby.” Charlie told Margaux, and she pouted but obeyed, following him into the hallway. 

“Hey Char, can I ask you something?” Owen asked, trailing behind the father daughter duo, and Charlie stopped, letting Margaux run ahead to their room. 

“Anything.” He smiled. 

“Do you mind if I share your room? I know the other bed was meant to be for Margaux but-” Owen started, playing with his fingers slightly. 

“She can share with me.” Charlie cut him off. “Bed’s all yours.” Owen looked up, his eyes widening. 

“Really?” He checked. 

“Of course.” Charlie smiled. Owen grinned, throwing his arms around Charlie’s neck. 

“Thanks Char. I just didn’t really want to sleep alone.” He admitted, and Charlie squeezed him tight. 

“Any time.” He told Owen, and the blond boy pulled away with a smile, before heading off to the room he was originally going to stay in to collect his bags. 

Charlie entered the room that he and Margaux, and now Owen, were sharing, finding his daughter already snuggled into one of the beds, still wearing her dinner clothes. Charlie sighed, moving to pull her out of the bed. Owen entered the room, bags in tow, and Margaux looked up at him excitedly. 

“Papa! Are you sleeping here?” She questioned. Owen placed his bags in the corner before answering. 

“I am Miss Maggie.” He said, and Margaux cheered. 

“You don’t mind sleeping with Daddy?” Charlie checked, and Margaux shook her head, jumping up to throw her arms around Charlie’s neck. 

“Nope! More cuddles!” She stated. Charlie laughed, picking her up. 

“Exactly right. Now, it’s bath time.” He said, grabbing Margaux’s pyjamas as she clung to him. 

“Bye Papa!” Margaux called as Charlie moved to leave the room. Owen waved. 

“Bye Maggie!” He replied, matching her enthusiasm. Charlie couldn’t help but smile. 

Margaux was so lucky to have someone like Owen in her life. They both were. 

- 

“Daddy! Wake up!” Margaux screamed, jumping on top of Charlie. He groaned, squinting as he looked up at his daughter. 

“What time is it?” He mumbled. Owen sat up in his own bed, grabbing his phone to check the time. 

“4:47am.” He informed Charlie, his voice thick with sleep. Charlie tried to ignore how sexy Owen’s morning voice was, instead focusing on his daughter. 

“Mags it’s too early to be awake.” He told her. Margaux pouted, flopping down on top of him. 

“Daddy, it’s my birthday!” She exclaimed. Charlie smiled, kissing her cheek. 

“I know baby, happy birthday. Now can we sleep for a little bit?” He tried. Margaux thought for a moment. 

“Only if Papa comes here too.” She decided. 

Charlie’s eyes widened slightly, eyes fixed on Owen as the younger boy sleepily slid out of his bed with no hesitation, and into Charlie’s, snuggling into Charlie’s side the minute he laid down. Margaux squirmed her way under the covers, squishing herself in between the two of them. 

Charlie shut his eyes in an attempt to get back to sleep, but it was no use. He opened his eyes again, staring up at the ceiling, as Margaux slept soundly next to him.

His mind was racing, noticing every single little place where Owen’s warm skin was in contact with his. It felt like he was on fire.

“Stop thinking.” Owen mumbled, and Charlie turned his head to see Owen staring at him, his eyes half shut with sleep.

“How did you know?” He questioned. Owen gave him a small smile. 

“I always know. Whatever it is, just ignore it for now. Get some sleep, it’s gonna be a big day.” Owen whispered. Charlie paused for a moment, just staring at Owen in the dim light from Margaux’s nightlight. Even half asleep in the almost complete darkness of the room Owen still looked gorgeous. Charlie swallowed. 

“You’re right. Thanks O.” He replied. 

“Love you.” Owen yawned in response, his eyes shutting again. Charlie smiled softly, moving his hand to brush a bit of Owen’s hair off his face.

“I love you too Owen.” He replied, despite the fact that the younger boy was already asleep. He pressed a soft kiss to Owen’s head, and lowered his voice to no more than a whisper.

“More than I probably should.”

- 

After what felt like no time at all Charlie was being shaken awake again. 

“Daddy is it time to get up now?” Margaux questioned, sitting on his chest. Charlie yawned. 

He reached over and checked his phone. It was just after 6:30am. 

“Okay we can get up. But we’re gonna leave Papa to sleep a little bit more, okay?” Charlie compromised. Margaux thought for a moment before agreeing. Charlie grinned, sliding the both of them out of the bed careful not to wake Owen. Once they were out of the bed Charlie lifted Margaux up, placing her on his hip. He pressed a soft kiss to her temple.  

“Now. Let’s go make some birthday pancakes.” 

- 

“Happy birthday Little Gillespie.” Jeremy sung, entering the kitchen with Carolynn close behind him.

Margaux grinned, her mouth full of pancake. 

“Thank you!” She exclaimed, her words muffled by her food. Carolynn stepped past Jeremy, moving to place a gentle kiss on Margaux’s head and whisper to her. Margaux grinned before looking up at her father.

“Hey Daddy?” She spoke. Charlie made a noise in response.

“Yeah?” He said, flipping pancakes onto a plate for both Jeremy and Carolynn.

“Do you think the birthday fairy could found me here?” Margaux questioned, her eyes full of hope. Charlie couldn’t help but smile, not even bothering to correct her words, as he placed the pan down.

“Should we go find out?” He asked. Margaux’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Yeah! But first we have to get Papa.” She decided. Charlie nodded.

“You wanna go wake him up? Tell him we made him some pancakes?” He asked, and Margaux grinned, already sliding out of her chair.

“Okay Daddy!” She replied, before rushing out of the room. The room fell silent for a few moments before Carolynn cleared her throat.

“So Charlie...” She raised an eyebrow. “How long have you been in love with Owen?” 

Charlie choked on his coffee. 

“I’m sorry, what?” He spluttered. Carolynn grinned. 

“You heard me.” She said. Charlie hesitated. 

“I’m not-” He stopped. “I-” 

He groaned. There was no use denying it if clearly he was obvious enough that his friends had figured him out.

“Since filming.” He admitted. Carolynn cheered. 

“You owe me $20.” She told her husband, who glared at Charlie. 

“You just had to admit it, huh?” Jeremy shook his head, and Charlie shrugged, a small smile on his face.

“Admit what?” Owen’s voice came from behind them, deep from sleep, and Charlie took a sip of his coffee to try to distract himself. Owen always looked good but in the early morning light, his hair still a mess from sleeping, he looked ethereal. Charlie bit his lip to stop himself from staring.

“Nothing important.” Carolynn replied, and Charlie shot her a thankful look. 

“Can we see if the birthday fairy visited now?” Margaux sighed, clearly impatient. They all laughed. 

“Of course baby.” Charlie told her, standing up. He grabbed the plate of pancakes he had made for Owen, handing them to the younger boy as he passed him. 

Margaux lead the way to the living area where Kenny and Tori were already sat waiting, squealing with excitement when she saw the small pile of presents on the table.

“They came!” She exclaimed, and Charlie couldn’t help but smile, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Margaux settled down on the couch as everyone spread out around the room, and one by one she opened the presents, eyes widening with excitement at every single one. 

Charlie had gotten her a few dolls that he knew she had been wanting, plus some new clothes, books and other toys. 

Jeremy and Carolynn had gotten her a small paint set with a Frozen paint by numbers. 

Kenny had gotten her a tiny version of the Sunset Curve shirt that the cast had all received. 

Tori had gotten her a little lilac tutu. 

Madi, Jadah and Savannah had sent their presents, some handmade earrings, little stud versions of the ghost drawings that Carolynn had created from Madi, a small pair of overalls from Savannah, and a colouring book from Jadah.

But her absolute favourite gift had come from Owen, a tan coloured bear from Build-A-Bear that he had dressed like Luke, and the clothes to change the bear into Reggie, Alex and Julie if she wanted to. 

After hugs all round the group decided to go their own ways, with Kenny heading off to spend the day relaxing, and Tori, Jeremy and Carolynn going to the beach to sunbathe since Carolynn’s flight had been delayed. 

“Where do you want to go today birthday girl?” Charlie asked, as he and Owen collected the pile of gifts to move them back to their room.

Margaux frowned in thought, the bear still grasped in her arms.

“Hiking.” She decided, and Charlie laughed. She was definitely his daughter.

“You sure? We can do whatever you want to do.” He checked. Margaux nodded, her attention focused on her new clothes that Charlie had placed on the bed to fold later. 

“I’m sure.” She said, reaching for the Sunset Curve shirt and overalls. “Can I wear this?”

“Of course you can.” Charlie agreed. 

“I’m gonna have a quick shower.” Owen said, grabbing some clothes out of his bag. Charlie nodded, focused on helping Margaux change out of her pyjamas into her new clothes.

“Do you think we can have some time tonight just you and me?” Charlie asked once Margaux was dressed, moving to grab her hairbrush and some hair ties.

“Yes please Daddy.” Margaux agreed, sitting on the edge of the bed as Charlie sat behind her.

“We could go get dinner just the two of us, and then come back here for birthday cake.” He suggested. Margaux frowned, clearly thinking. 

“Is it chocolate cake?” She asked after a moment, and Charlie paused from brushing her hair to kiss the top of her head. 

“You’ll have to wait and see.” He teased. Charlie finished tying her hair up into two little space buns, not quite proper buns but as close as he could get with her shortish hair.

“I hope it’s chocolate cake. I love chocolate cake.” She giggled, standing up on the bed and turning around to hug her father. Charlie wrapped his arms around her, a gesture that was so safe and familiar. 

“Me too baby, me too.” He agreed. Margaux snuggled her head into his shoulder. 

“Is Papa coming hiking?” She questioned. Charlie grinned to himself. 

“Do you want him to come?” He asked. Margaux didn’t even hesitate. 

“Yes.”

“Then I’m sure he’d love to come.” Charlie assured her. She pulled away. looking him in the eyes. Charlie had always loved that she had gotten his eyes. 

“Do I ask him?” She said, eyes wide. Charlie struggled to contain a laugh at how serious she looked. 

“When he comes back, yeah.” He nodded. 

“When who comes back?” Owen asked, re-entering the room. Margaux jumped up, throwing herself at the 20 year old. He lifted her up with no hesitation. 

“Are you gonna come hiking?” Margaux asked, her bottom lip jutting out in a pleading way. 

“Of course I am. Wouldn’t want to miss spending time with my two favourite people.” Owen grinned, kissing her nose causing her to giggle. Charlie’s heart skipped a beat at the declaration that he was one of Owen’s favourite people. 

“Yay! Can we go now?” Margaux turned in Owen’s arms to face her father. He nodded, standing up from the bed. 

“Shoes, and then we can go.” He said, and Margaux squirmed her way out of Owen’s arms to go find her running shoes. 

Charlie exchanged a look with Owen, the both of them thinking the same thing. 

It was going to be a long day. 

- 

Hiking with a just turned four year old was exhausting, even despite them choosing the easiest possible trail so that she wouldn’t have any issues.

It was fine at first, Margaux excitedly looking at the plants and trying to spot any animals in the trees, but after about twenty minutes she got bored and tired, and Charlie and Owen spent the rest of the hike passing her back and forth between the two of them.

Finally they made it back to the villa, and after a quick stop for lunch Margaux was recharged and ready for the rest of the day.

“Can we swim?” She asked. Charlie nodded.

“We’ll go and get changed, and then we can go in the pool for a while until we have to get ready for dinner, okay?” He suggested. 

“Okay Daddy.” Margaux smiled sweetly. 

-

After quickly changing into their swimmers, Charlie, Margaux and Owen ended up in the pool, Jeremy and Carolynn lounging nearby. 

They swam for a few hours until Margaux got thirsty, and with a promise of apple juice she and Charlie climbed out of the pool leaving Owen to go sit with the Shada’s. 

Charlie walked inside the villa, finding Kenny sat at the kitchen bench reading while Tori lounged on one of the couches, staring at her phone. 

“Why don’t we do cake now, so that you don’t have to worry about rushing home?” Kenny spoke up, as Charlie manoeuvred through the kitchen to get the apple juice out, Margaux clinging to his chest like a baby koala. 

“That’s a good idea. Do you want to do your birthday cake now Mags?” Charlie asked his daughter, pouring her some apple juice. She sipped on the juice, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Yeah!” She exclaimed. Charlie smiled. 

“Okay, can you go get Papa, Aunty Care and Uncle Jer for me?” He asked, placing her down. She nodded eagerly, handing her cup of juice to him before rushing outside to where Owen, Jeremy and Carolynn were still sat.

Charlie grabbed the cake out of the fridge and placed it on the bench, before putting the four candles in, and grabbing a lighter.

“Have you seen my camera Kenny?” He asked, and Kenny just pointed to the end of the bench where the camera was sitting. Charlie smiled gratefully, grabbing the camera.

“Want me to take photos?” Tori offered, and Charlie nodded, handing her the camera. 

Margaux re-entered the room, Owen and the Shada’s following close behind her, and when she reached her father he lifted her up. Kenny took the lighter, lighting the candles on the cake and together they sung Happy Birthday to Margaux, Tori snapping photos as the four year old blew out her candles. 

Charlie held Margaux close to him as Kenny divided the cake up, thankful that he had such an amazing family to spend his little girl’s birthday with. 

-

When Charlie and Margaux made it back to the villa after their dinner that night, the newly four year old was ready to fall asleep. Charlie carried her to bed, silently thanking his past self for deciding to give her a bath and do her birthday cake before they went to dinner because now all he had to do was change her into her pyjamas. 

He changed her quickly seeing that she was almost asleep, and tucked her into the bed. 

“Did you have a good birthday baby?” Charlie asked softly, settling down next to his daughter.

Margaux just nodded in response. 

“That’s good.” Charlie ran a hand through her curls. “Goodnight baby girl.” 

“Big girl.” Margaux mumbled sleepily. Charlie smiled, leaning down and kissing her head. 

“You might be a big girl now but you’ll always be my baby girl.” He whispered. “I love you.” 

“I love you too Daddy.” Margaux replied, her eyes already shut and her arms wrapped tightly around her new bear. Charlie stood up slowly and headed to the door, leaving it open a crack for a little bit of light to shine in. 

He paused for a moment, just taking in the reality that Margaux was already four years old, and that she was growing up too fast. With one last look at the door he made his way down the hallway and outside to where he knew Owen was waiting. 

“She’s asleep.” He announced, flopping down on the outdoor sofa next to Owen. 

“I’m not shocked, she’s had a big day.” Owen replied, handing Charlie a cold beer that he had clearly gotten for him. Charlie took it thankfully, taking a large swig. 

“Can you believe that she’s four already? It feels like she was only just born and I was waking up to find out that her mother was gone and that it was only me and her. It was terrifying at the time, but looking back I wouldn’t change it for the world.” He rambled. Owen rested his head on Charlie’s shoulder and Charlie wrapped his arm around the younger boy, pulling him closer.

“You should be proud of yourself Char. You’ve done an amazing job.” Owen complimented, snuggling closer to Charlie as he took a mouthful of his beer.

“You think so?” Charlie questioned. Owen nodded against his shoulder.

“I know so.” He sat up. “Margaux is the most well behaved kid I’ve ever met, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her misbehave once in all the time I’ve known her. She’s an amazing kid and it’s all because she has the most amazing father.”

“Thank you.” Charlie whispered, suddenly realising how close Owen was to him. He could feel Owen’s warm breath on his lips, and he found himself leaning in, the urge to kiss Owen overtaking his entire being. His lips brushed against Owen’s ever so slightly, but before they could properly commit to the kiss they were interrupted. 

“Hey, we’re gonna play...” Tori’s voice came and they jumped apart quickly. She trailed off, eyeing them carefully. “Were you two about to kiss?”

Charlie cleared his throat. Owen’s eyes widened.

“Uh... no?” Owen lied. Tori shot them a suspicious look but clearly decided against pushing.

“Right... well we’re gonna play Cards Against Humanity if you want to join us.” She told them, before turning and heading back inside. Neither Charlie nor Owen moved, the silence was deafening. Finally Owen spoke.

“Sorry.” He muttered quickly, before standing up and rushing inside. Charlie groaned, watching him leave, the feeling of Owen’s lips still lingering on his own.

“Fuck.” He sighed, downing the last of his beer before standing up to join the rest of the group inside.

He would have to deal with the Owen situation later.

[soulwillower]

heat waves • stanley uris

(stanley uris x reader smut)  

requested: stanley uris fic where he plays baseball and she plays softball please? best friends to lovers if you can! (bonus for borrowing each other's clothes) 

warnings: softball player! reader, swearing, smut at the end sorry, oral (male receiving), fluff mostly though, i promise, unedited as fuck i wrote this all in the last few hours LOL

i hope u dont mind i added smut at the end

(this was inspired partly by the song heat waves by glass animals but just a bit idk) 

[losers + reader are 18+.]

3.2k words i think

♡

it was hot.

in fact it was boiling fucking hot, in stan's opinion, and despite loving nearly everything about summer, the heat was the absolute worst of those characteristics by far. 

he sighs as he flies down the backroads, away from the baseball fields and towards his house. he's pushing his curls back from his face and groaning as he feels sweat beads on his forehead, his eyes catching the dying sunlight and making him itch to wash his hands.

it's june, and there's a deep heatwave that hit derry that's caused all the a/c units at the store richie works at to disappear from the shelves, the public pool that bill and eddie work at the become overcrowded with kids and families escaping the heat, and the baseball fields to be extremely blistering as mike, stan, and you had to stand under the sun all day the last two days.

his lips twitch up faintly at the thought of earlier today, when he'd had a ten minute break and had ran over in his spikes with mike to catch an inning of the softball game on the fields adjacent to theirs. 

the only reason they'd gone was to see you play, of course - and to your embarrassment, they'd caught right when you'd stepped to the plate and had hollered "yeah, baby! y/n/n!" loud enough to make everybody in the stands' head turn and embarrassing enough to make you giggle as you waited for the pitch. 

you'd hit a double then, which had also scored in two runs and stan had seen your smile as you stood out at second base, breathing hard and brushing the dirt off your pants. and when he'd waved to you, you waved back with so much pride and excitement that he'd felt his heart skip a beat.

he smiles to himself as he turns the corner into his neighborhood, squinting slightly as the air moves in squiggles feet above the pavement. he swears with a shake of his head - he fucking hates the heat, but the double edged sword of baseball season in the summer makes it worth it. 

his phone buzzes from where it's placed in his cup holder and he grabs it, smiling at the y/n y/l/n !!!!! that pops up at the top. he rolls his eyes as he answers, remembering the time when you'd called him a psychopath for having your full name in his phone contact, claiming you knew for a fact he somehow didn't know any other y/n's, so you’d added the exclamation points ‘just for flare.’ 

he answers, "hey, how was the last game?" he asks as he pulls into his driveway. "we lost." you grumble and he hums as he pulls himself out of the car, leaving his bat bag in the trunk since he's got practice tomorrow. "i'm sorry to hear that. d'you want to come over?" he asks casually as he makes his way inside and sighs at the relief of the air conditioning. "yes, yeah. i do." you say and stan smiles down to the ground at your goofiness. as he enters the kitchen he realizes his parents are out, so he asks, "can you bring food?"

you sigh and he can imagine your grin as you say, "god, the shit i do for you, uris. why can't we go together?" you whine. he snorts, "but i have to shower." he tries to reason, but you retort, "i just spend thirteen hours in the heat too, stan, i need to shower as well."

he smiles, walking up the stairs towards his room. "alright, alright. we can go together, just come over and you can shower here."

"did i mention i love you?" you sigh, almost dreamily. stan stops in his tracks, heart stopping and mouth going dry but still grinning as he hears his name yelled by a voice in the background of your line and you hiss back a muffled, "shut up!"

his face is red as he mutters, "yeah, yeah. love you too, y/n/n. i'll see you soon."

your voice echoes in his head as he stares at the tiles of his shower the entire time he's showering. did i mention i love you? as the ice cold water cascades over his sore muscles, relaxing him and breathing energy back into his tired body, he can't get you out of his head. 

your voice, your hair, the way you have so much confidence on the field and yet are the sweetest and funniest person he's every met. as his mind wanders, he thanks god that his shower is freezing and he groans, trying to stop imagining his best friend while he's in the shower.

did i mention i love you?

he steps out soon after that, feeling like a bit of a creep. as he ruffles his towel-dry hair, he hears his front door open. opening the door to the bathroom, he's suddenly facing you, clad in your dirty uniform, your visor still on your head and a tired but happy smile on your face. "where's donny and andrea?" you ask and stan shrugs, chuckling a bit at your dumb nickname for his father, "think they had some meeting and went out after." he's not really focused though, because he's aware that he is standing with only a red towel hanging low on his hips as you stand in front of him, your cheeks red and eyes wide, bouncing around him and avoiding eye contact, flustered as you clear your throat.

did i mention i love you?

he grabs his dirty uniform to sweep into the laundry and gets you a fresh towel, gathering clothes for you to change into before residing to his own bedroom. the shower turns on right as he pulls on his shirt and flops back onto his mattress.

he can't get you off his mind, which isn't necessarily a new development, but ever since the heat wave, his mind has been stuck in a loop that's never ending. y/n, baseball, y/n, baseball, y/n, y/n, y/n....

did i mention i love you?

it's hot in his room and he stares at the patterns in his ceiling, lifting a brow as the spots morph in and out of shapes and suddenly it's back to you, your angelic face in his vision and he almost groans. he loves you way too much, he thinks. 

he knows every single feature about you; enough so that your face, beautiful and clear as always, appears in his vision and he's fucked because he knows he’s still be able to remember where every feature, mark or blemish on your face is, even when you're not with him.

even though he knows that your relationship is just platonic, he still finds himself imagining his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and he yearns to touch every part of you, to be touched by you. he can't get you out of his mind.

the shower shuts off so he sits up and rubs his eyes - the danger and power the you have over him almost makes him laugh, especially because if you knew half the things he thought about you, you'd probably kill him.

he's smiling dumbly, thinking about the time you and bill got caught sneaking onto the derry golf course and made richie and stan pick you two up, right as you pad into his room.

"i look like a dumbass, stan!" you groan, lifting your arms as you spin a bit, and he almost dies. he has to shake his head to avoid you seeing his blush because you're standing in front of him, wearing his baseball team practice shirt that has his last name on it and his gym shorts, cinched at the waist to keep them on you and neither things fit you very well but he thinks he's going to lose it because his heart feels so warm. 

your hair is wet and making the shirt totally wet where the ends of the strands touch, your skin bright from washing off the eyeblack you'd worn all day. he's so lost in the image of you that you have to repeat yourself.

"stan! stop looking at me, oh my god i want to die." you shove your face into your hands and laugh. he shakes his head rid of his stupor and stands from his bed, laying a hand on your shoulder. "you look incredible right now, y/n. let's go, i'm hungry."

he grabs the hoodie he'd insisted you order for him early last year - with your club team's logo on it and a big, white #2 and your last name on the back. he knows it's too hot to actually wear it, but he's going to take it because you always get cold under his car's a/c.

he's not always the best at approaching you in a way that is comforting, but you beam at him as you follow him out towards his car. you're both walking slowly through the hot nighttime air, half because the air is so thick it feels like you're wading, but half from the exhausting day you'd both had. 

every muscle in stan's body aches as he pulls himself into the driver's seat, making sure everything was straight and in place. he doesn't even blush when he turns the key twice before starting the ignition, knowing that you don't mind and even show affection towards his compulsions after all this time. his heart thumps at the thought.

"where to?" you yawn as you ask and he can feel your eyes on him as he's leaning back, backing his car out of the driveway. he flushes once again under your beautiful gaze.

stan then finds himself in the back of his trunk at the quarry, the windows still up because you insisted it'd be too hot with the door open. he'd listened to you because you're you - but if it had been bill, or eddie, or ben, or mike or bev or especially richie he would have groaned and complained about how bad it was for his battery to keep the a/c running.

but it was you, so he did it with a smile on his face and a thump in his heart. you're sitting with your knees touching, stomachs full of fries, burgers, and vanilla milkshakes.

you're still working on your milkshake, spooning it into your mouth slowly as you tell stan a story about your day. "-and she slid under the tag - no, don't look at me like that, she was under it! - and the fucking ump called her out." you grumble, glaring into your milkshake. stan just grins, taking in your natural hair and how it's framing your face, the way your legs gleam in the moonlight and showcase the random bruises you have from taking pitches to the legs.

he forgets to respond and you look up at him, lifting a brow. "oh, yeah, i got a few bruises." you mutter, examining your leg yourself. you perk up, "look at this one! it's got stitch marks!" you say enthusiastically, pulling your bare thigh up so it's across stan's lap, scooting closer to him. he gulps, the proximity of you to him making it hard to focus as you run your fingers over the skin.

"shit." he mutters, hingers falling to touch the purple skin that was blossoming in a faint circle, red and purple stitch marks from the softball etching their way onto your skin. "that must've stung." he adds, eyes glued to your bare leg. you hum in agreement and suddenly your eyes are meeting his and he can't breathe at all.

you're closer than he'd expected as you straighten up, leg falling flat against his lap as you stare deep into each other's eyes. yours are swimming with wonder as you watch him, and he almost jumps when your hand lands on his shoulder. "what're you thinking? you're in your head a lot tonight, stan." you say gently, with all the care in the world and he doesn't really feel the usual twinge of guilt he feels for being more reserved than usual - instead he just feels like he may explode if he doesn't just tell you.

"y/n." he says it so quietly that all he can hear is the first part of your name. "uh-i... uh, maybe it's the heat wave, but..." he shakes his head, knowing that excuse with not work. you're too smart to believe a fib that simple. he sighs.

"no. no, i just- sometimes all that i think about is you." he says, his hand falling to rub over your bare thigh. he feels your muscles tense under his palm and he searches your eyes, his stomach tying itself into knots of anxiety as he waits patiently.

"what-what do you mean?" you ask softly, eyes flickering between his and he bites his lips, looking out to the quarry quickly before looking at you. he thinks about the days you've spent together with the others down at the water, all the drunken nights where you find your way to the clubhouse you'd all built in middle school.

he thinks about how you always, always make it to his games when you're not also playing; how you always sit at the far top right of the bleachers and scream his name loud enough that he can hear you even when he's way out in center field, how you always wear his away uniform jersey and give it back to him with a hug after the games. he thinks about all the hours the two of you have spent together at derry's batting cages, competitively keeping tallies of how many line drives you can each hit.

"stan?" you ask again softly, biting your lip. "i think about you too." you tell him, and he shakes his head, knowing that you aren't totally understanding him (but that's definitely not your fault).

"i think i love you."

he says it louder than intended, and it slices through the midnight air in a way that makes the world stagnant. he swears, even the frogs stop croaking, the cicadas stop buzzing, the wind stops blowing through the leaves in the forest.

"like... like you love me?" you ask, your leg still across his lap, hand still on his shoulder reassuring him that you at least weren't completely disgusted by his admission.

"like i'm in love with you." he reiterates, looking straight into your apprehensive eyes as he says it. it takes barely a split second before you're smiling at him in a grin that knocks the wind right out of stan's chest again. 

"what made you decide that?" you ask with a huge, breathtakingly sweet smile as your hands slide to hold his neck. he huffs a laugh, unsure still, "dunno. lots of things - everything about you, really." he mumbles, feeling slightly stupid but still incredibly giddy as you lean closer.

"well i'm in love with you, stan." you say, lips ghosting over his. he grins, the feeling of you so close to him making his fingers tingle as one hand stays on your thigh, the other falling to your hip.

he can't speak, so instead he closes the gap. your lips are warm against him - your whole body is - as you come to life, kissing him like you've been doing it your whole life. you whimper lightly and it makes him sigh with pleasure, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, tasting the vanilla of your milkshake on your tongue.

slowly, you slide onto his lap and his hands move up your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him, his tongue swiping against your plush lips. you're straddling him, cupping his jaw with both hands as you accept his tongue, yours caressing his sweetly and he wonders why you haven't been doing this your whole life.

he pushes against you, pulling you closer to him as you pull back for breath. "i've wanted to do that for so long." you mutter lowly as his lips immediately attach to the soft expanse of your skin, his fingers tickling down your bare thighs. he grins as he feels goosebumps form under his palms, biting down and sucking the soft skin on your throat, eliciting a moan from you. 

he pulls back a bit, "me too." he says, lips peppering kisses all the way up to your lips and catching them again, your hand sliding into his har and tugging on the strands.

you slowly grind against him and he groans at the feeling of you around him, the pleasure making his mind fuzzy as all he can think about it you. 

and then he’s dying because you’re trailing a hand down to palm him through his pants and all he can do is groan a bit against your chest and look at you because holy shit.

 you slide off his lap and down on to your knees in the small space between his legs, watching him with those beautiful doe eyes as you slide down his shorts slowly. 

he’s watching, lip caught between his teeth as you pull him free from where he strains against his boxers, licking your lips and pumping his base a few times. he grunts as your hand moves, the feeling making him twitch in pleasure. his cock is dripping precum and you slowly reach your tongue out, swirling around his tip. he lets out a dejected moan and grips your shoulders as you slowly take him into your mouth, wet and warm and perfect.”good girl.” he mutters quietly through his bliss and he notices how you flush under the praise, your tongue flattening as you take him further in. 

 as you bob your head down and try to take as much of him as you can, you look up through your lashes to watch him, the eye contact making his legs weak.

 his lips are parted, watching as you suck him off as his hips twitch, hands playing with your hair through his pleasure. "fuck, y/n..." he moans as you start to bob your head quicker, lifting one of your hands to grab his own. he lets you guide his hand to the back of your head and you gently put pressure on it.

he thinks he might faint as he realizes what you want. slowly, he pushes you further down on his cock and he gasps at the tight feeling of you gagging around him. 

 he groans, “you like that, hm?” quietly as you whimper around his cock, the vibrations nearing him to his high. “holy shit.” he mutters to himself as he moves your head, the lewd noises of his cock in your mouth and his moans filling up the car. 

you take him as far into your mouth as you can and he feels you try to relax as he gently pushes you further down on his cock until he hits the back of your throat. you moan, the vibrations pushing him to the edge as his hips buck up slightly.

you choke and pull off of him, catching your breath as you make eye contact, “being so good for me.” he mutters, his eyes glazed over as he watches you pump him. you smile, cheeks pink from the praise and he almost swoons with how fucking perfect you look. 

he lets out a low moan at your warm mouth taking him in, bobbing up and down. his hands push you down onto him again and he holds you there while he gently thrusts up, your hands on his thighs. he tilts his head back, eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss. 

its only a few seconds and he barely gets out a, "fuck, y/n, i'm gonna-" before he's spilling into your mouth. to his surprise, you moan around him and slowly lick him up and swallow, looking up at him with a tired smile.

“holy shit.” he says yet again, staring at you as you pull his shorts back up and bite your lip. he pulls you into a kiss and he can taste himself on your lips, making his stomach flip. 

"date me." he says quickly as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed from the taste of you on his tongue and the post-orgasmic bliss. you pull back, grinning. "well you don't have to be so polite about it." your voice sounds fucked-out and kind of raw and he’s certainly a dead man. 

he chuckles, rolling his eyes at your sarcastic tone. he loves you so fucking much.  "fine. y/n, please be my girlfriend. i want to be your boyfriend, i want us to date. please, will you go out with me?" his voice is dead-pan, but he's serious about it, and you can tell by his boyish grin.

you laugh, shaking your head. "god, was that so hard?" you ask, your hands rubbing over his chest, where his muscles tense in soreness. he then realizes you're still straddling him and how fucking sore you must be. he pulls you closer.

and then you pull him in for another kiss, both of your teeth clashing slightly from your grins. you didn't even explicitly say yes, stan wants to say, but instead he mutters, "did i mention i love you?"

you smile, cheeks red. “you might have mentioned it.” you say bashfully. he grins, kissing your cheek sweetly, hand running up your thigh slowly. “can i taste you, babylove?” he mumbles against your skin and he feels you shiver as you let out a quiet moan. 

you grin, kissing him on the lips, “why dont we go back to your place...can i stay the night?” you ask, cheeks aflame as you look at him. “i want to take our time.” you add. 

it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen and he nods, grinning at you. “fuck- yes, yes you can. of course.” he says, smiling at you. you kiss him heatedly, grinning as you pull back and lean over to crawl back to the passenger seat. stan slaps your ass lightly as you do and you squeal, grinning back at him with a lifted brow, “c’mon, uris. you’re scoring tonight.”

he rolls his eyes at your cheesy words and groans a bit, but he can’t ignore the butterflies that thrash in his chest nonetheless. 

you love him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a​ @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

[reyesstrand]

fic writer questions!!

tagged by @marjansmarwani @silvarafael and @morganaspendragonss (thank u!! 💗)

1) how many works do you have on ao3?

75

2) what’s your total ao3 word count?

286,026

3) how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

i’ve written a handful of very amateur fics for it chapter 2, the get down, the magicians years ago, and most recently the old guard and 911: lone star.

4) what are your top five fics by kudos?

all of them are 911ls ajdnsnsn

like a bright new dream (post-season one tarlos love declarations)

wanna be still with you (2x08 episode tag ft concussed tk)

take me back to the light (post 1x08/pre 1x09 coda)

silver in the night (1x10 episode tag/missing scenes)

tangled in the willows (one shot collection)

5) what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

omg i’m not sure i’ve ever been capable of writing angst without some sort of happy ending…..i’ve definitely written some ambiguous endings though, which are featured here: in my grace/judd fic all so incredibly loud and my nancy/marjan fic hold on to me and this chapter of my tarlos one-shot collection.

6) what’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

i feel like 99% of my fics have happy endings akdnsn but off the top of my head my 2x12 coda felt like maybe we could last forever was one of the heavier things i’ve written and the ending was one lots of comments touched on which made me (‘:

also!! and every harm (is lovingly washed away) and thinkin bout forever both end in sappy double proposals for tarlos which were too much fun to write, and i’m going to plug all my nancy/marjan fics apparently ajdnsn bc make me feel alive also has a pretty happy ending!!!

7) do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

never written one!

8) do you write smut? if so, what kind?

nothing super explicit, but i’ve ventured into mild/implied sexual content (i doubt it’s very good though ajdnsksn)

9) do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i try to!!! it usually takes a few days after a fic’s been posted but i try and get to them as soon as possible! and i do it to show appreciation for kind words because it really does mean the world 🥺

10) have you ever received hate on a fic?

somehow no.

11) have you ever had a fic stolen?

no, thankfully. at least not that i’m aware of.

12) have you ever had a fic translated?

no! but i’d love that!

13) have you ever co-written a fic before?

i haven’t! it’s definitely something i’m interested in though!!

14) what’s your all-time favourite ship?

i’d have to say any of the lone star pairings, canon or not—but of course tarlos most of all. i’ve just never really had so much inspiration from a pairing before. for instance, my first ever tarlos fic was inspired from the promo image for a scene that never even aired (looking at you dinner scene from 1x05), when before i felt like i had to be several seasons into a show to want to write in that universe. so yeah. tarlos.

15) what’s a wip you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

oh….so many. the first one that comes to mind is the sort of missing scenes between seasons one and two of lone star fic that i just couldn’t get to work for me. i also kind of want to do a canon divergent tarlos fic where they have a much slower burn than what we get on the show, but again..lack of inspiration aksnsn

right now my focus is on the prompt requests from forever ago!!

16) what are your writing strengths?

i’d like to think exposition? describing emotions and scenery? internal thoughts? i love getting lost in the mood of a scene and trying to capture it with words.

17) what are your writing strengths?

ooh uh i’ve always struggled with dialogue. like just making it flow naturally. if i’m not in the right headspace for certain dialogue-heavy scenes it makes writing 10x harder for me akdnsks

18) what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

i think it all depends on the scene/character/context. but, as someone who only speaks english and a little bit of french, i dont really think my thoughts matter here? if speakers of the language in question say something in a fic is offensive or not used properly or call into question the author’s intentions, we should listen to them.

19) what was the last fandom you wrote for?

………lone star, of course.

20) what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

oh man, i’ve said it before but probably my firefighter!carlos fic lit the spark (that set a fire) because it took me so long. i also loved writing my 2x08 and 2x12 codas (mentioned above) and been twisting to the sun because it allowed me to write some tk and judd!!

i’m pretty sure everyone has been tagged at this point and i hope i don’t forget anyone but!!!@sunshinestrand @rafael-silva @reyescarlos @howtosingit @bellakitse @crockettmarcel feel free to do this if you’d like!!

[sleepychai-fics]

Road to Salvation ~ Chapter 4 - The Proposition

Inform me if I need to put in any warnings for this chapter. ALSO I'd like to apologise for the long break between chapters, life has been hectic and things got out of hand for a bit. Hopefully it wont happen a second time.

Word count: 5,472

Pronouns - Female

ALSO SHOUTOUT TO @doughnuts-5ever​ FOR BETA READING THIS ENTIRE SERIES. I KEEP FORGETTING TO ADD THIS SHOUTOUT CAUSE I POST THESE CHAPTERS AT 1 AM LIKE THE NIGHT OWL I AM. SO BIIIIIIG THANK YOU TO YOU BB, YOU MAKE THIS STORY MAKE SENSE WHEN MY BRAIN DONT

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in BNHA. However, there are many OC’s in this fic that I’ve created. These OC’s belong to me and are specifically created for this fic. 

However, Hajime Shinsou is NOT my oc. He is an oc created by Keiid, who used to have tumblr but now uses twitter. Please keep that in mind.

Feedback is appreciated!

Want to be part of the taglist? DM me or reply to this chapter!

“What do we know about this girl?” Tsukauchi flips open the folder full of papers in front of him, eyes darting across the pages briefly taking in the information.

Aizawa sighs, lifting up one of the papers and reading off of it. “She’s been seen as a vigilante on the streets for a little over two years now. How long she’s been on the streets in general is unknown. Her quirk involves moving objects through shadows. It’s believed she has other accomplices, however we don’t know for sure.” He ends by tossing the paper back in the folder.

Tsukauchi hums. “Is she the one we’re looking for?”

“I hope so.”

“What about her suspected accomplices?”

Aizawa takes out another piece of paper from a different folder. “Our informant tells us she lives with many other people on the streets. Rumors say that the group is the line between villains and heroes.” His tired eyes look over to the police officer. “We’re not sure how to interpret that.”

A groan leaves the officers lips as he leans back in his chair. “We’ll interview her once she wakes up. We can negotiate living conditions with her. Offer her the placement and training in exchange for her compliance and any requests she may ask.”

With a yawn, Aizawa nods. “What do you suspect she’ll ask for?”

“Not too sure. Despite what we have on her, she’s still unknown to us. Our data banks have nothing on her. It’d be your job to get to know her.”

Aizawa groans. “I know that. But I think Hisashi is more up to that task.”

Tsukauchi smiles. “I appreciate you doing this.”

“It was part of the deal. Whisper held up her end, now I need to hold up mine.”

“It’s a big task to hold up.”

Aizawa hums in agreeance. “That’s why I offered a trial period. If she proves worthy to be a hero, then I’ll make it a permanent deal.”

“Whisper has offered to ensure a steady supply of information on other underground personnel if you were to make it a full time deal.” Tsukauchi reminds him.

Aizawa nods. “Are you sure-”

An alarm blares loudly through the speakers, interrupting the two men and instantly raising them on high alert. The conference room doors slam open, a security guard standing at the entrance.

“I apologise for the interruption but she’s escaped her room!”

Aizawa stands up from his chair, almost knocking it over. “Do you know where she’s headed?”

“They report she’s just entering the cafeteria, possibly towards Ward E.”

The two men race out the door, following the guard as he races towards your direction.

~*~

Your senses come back slowly. First, it’s touch. Whatever room you’re in, it’s got a cold atmosphere to it. If you were conscious enough, you’d be clutching to your thin jacket. As the thought crosses your mind, you take note of the feeling of the fabric, definitely not the same kind of material as your jacket. But despite its foreignness, it holds you in strange comfort. However, the feeling doesn’t last long as your hearing starts to kick in.

Two voices - one feminine and the other masculine, speaking in a soft tone. Along with the voices, you hear a steady beeping sound. A heart monitor? You hear it pick up as the rest of your senses come to life. The pungent smell of sanitising chemicals invades your nostrils and has you scrunching your nose in response. One of the voices gasps and speaks to the other. Your eyes are heavy and your body urges you to return to the land of peaceful slumber, but with a strong will, you open your eyelids.

Everything is blurry. Patches of colours hover over your vision before flicking to a mixture of white shades. You hear things shuffle around and clang against metal, only making you work harder at your vision. In an attempt to clear your vision, you rapidly blink your eyes. However, a bright light shines into your eye and forces you to squint. In a burst of panicked adrenaline, you lash out.

From what you can comprehend, you throw out your fist, hitting the figure above you. Ignoring the scream of pain, you jump up out of what you suspect to be a bed and scamper across the floor. You trip into a wall and turn your body around to face the mess you seemed to have caused.

You shake your head and rub at your eyes in another attempt to clear your vision. As it begins to clear, the masculine voice speaks.

“Hey! Let’s calm down. There’s no need to be scared.” You focus on the person closest to you. His hair is a terrible mess of purple. A white coat lays over a blue shirt and brown pants. As your vision clears by the second, you recognise more of his facial features and you can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. His dark eyes stare at you earnestly, but it’s his eyebags that strike you with an eerie recognition.

You notice his hand cast behind him and you follow it to a woman in similar attire to him, laying on the ground. She has one hand propping her upper body up off the floor, while her other hand covers her lower face, blood seeping in between her fingers.

You return your sight to the man and attempt to speak, however it comes out raspy. After clearing your throat, you try again. “Who are you?”

The doctor responds calmly, making slow movements with his hands as he speaks. “My name is Hajime Shinsou. I know that this seems scary at the moment, but you need to trust that I won’t hurt you.” Shinsou attempts to take a step closer but retracts it as you push your body further against the wall. “You might recognise me, more so my son but let's face it, he’s practically a carbon copy of me.”

Your vision finally starts to clear, enough for you to make out specific features that you’ve definitely seen before. But he’s way too tall from what you can remember. “Why would I recognise you? Your son?”

The slight upturn of his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “A couple days ago, you saved my son from a group of gang members. It was by a karaoke restaurant. He has purple hair, just like me. He even has the same eyebags as me.” As Shinsou goes through his explanation, your memory begins to jog.

“The… the gang. They uhm... they attacked a restaurant and took a kid hostage.” Shinsou nods. “I stopped them and saved the kid.”

“Yes. My son appreciates you. I do too.”

Alarming questions begin to spew in your mind. “How did you know it was me? Where am I? Why am I here?!” Each question grows more desperate as your (e/c) scan the entirety of the room. Thankfully you chose the wall close to the door.

“It’s okay. No one intends to harm you here.”

“Bullshit. Where am I?!” You argue back, glaring at him with irritation.

Shinsou continues to remain calm, despite the growing panic radiating off of you. “You’re in a hospital in northeast Tokyo.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as your eyes widen in shock. “Northeast?!”

With a nod, he responds carefully. “Yes. I understand you may be in shock. But I promise you that I don’t mean you any harm-”

“I want to leave.”

He sighs heavily. “I know, but I’m sorry to say I can’t allow-”

“I want to leave. NOW!” You scream this time, eyes brimming with tears you fight to extinguish. “I can’t be here, I have to leave this place.”

“Why don’t we just sit down and have a calm cha-”

“No! I can’t stay here! I have to leave!” You throw your hands out, intent on using your quirk to push back the doctor. But when that doesn’t work, you falter. “Wha… Why? What happened to my quirk?” A few stray tears slither down your face despite your best efforts. “What did you do to my quirk?!”

“We’ve injected you with quirk suppressants. It was protocol. I’m sorry.” You can hear his genuine apology, but you ignore it through your own raging emotions.

“I’m leaving.”

Hajime nods, knowing there’s nothing else he can do. “I understand. But you have to know I can’t let you go without calling it in.”

You shake your head. “I don’t care.” You leave him no breath to reply, walking towards the door. Before you leave, you snatch a spare white coat from a nearby hook and throw it over yourself.

As the door clicks behind you, you take a moment to assess your surroundings. A window down the hall shows an orange hued sky, although it's difficult to determine whether it’s dusk or dawn. A couple of doctors scatter the large hall, but they’re too busy looking down at clipboards to notice you. You waste no second more before walking down the hall, head tilted down to avoid arousal of your presence.

It’s so foreign, so clean and pristine. Tears are prepared to fall at any moment, but you fight against them. It’s exhausting and horrifying, it’s taking all of you not to bolt out the nearest window.

Every turn you take, every corridor you look down leads you to the belief that you're stuck in a labyrinth. It all looks the same. The room placements, the nurses, the machines littered here and there. Everything is almost the exact same and it scares the living shit out of you.

Finally, after what seems like hours of endless wandering, you come across two double doors. They appear to lead to another part of the hospital. You take a second to glance around you. There’s no other way to go besides through these doors, at least no other way you’ve been able to discover anyway. Without another second to hesitate, you go through the doors.

It’s similar to the place you just came from, except there are fewer private rooms and more public beds. They’re all aligned against the wall and separated by at least a couple of meters. Curtains hang between them, offering visual privacy. More nurses and doctors operate within the space, working with patients and running to various desks.

As you take in the scenery from the doors, you hear a voice call out from your left.

“Hey, are you-?”

You turn to look at the voice, and your heart drops. Realisation dawns on your face the second you notice the security badge. Unfortunately, the guard comes to his own realisation.

The guard opens his mouth wide, probably to yell out, but you don’t give him the chance to. With adrenaline behind your muscles, you push at his chest, forcing him to back into a moving cart. The noise alerts the entire area and within seconds it turns to chaos.

You take off in a sprint down the hall, leaving the sounds of screams and yells behind you. Each turn you come upon, you run to the wall and push yourself off of it, maintaining momentum in your run. As you take another turn, you throw a glance behind you. Security guards are close behind you, as well as a few men dressed in white coats, seemingly doctors aiding in the chase.

An alarm blares loudly throughout the hospital, red lights blinking slowly at every corner. You ignore them all, focused on improvising an escape plan.

As you turn another corner, you're faced with a set of double doors. With no other choice, apart from the army of men behind you, you barge through the doors.

You thank the high being that it's an open spaced cafeteria. More space to run, more visualisation, more shit to throw, and most importantly, fewer hallways to get lost in.

People scream and scatter out of their chairs as you vault over tables. Every chance you get, you flick trays and food behind you in an attempt to slow down those behind you. You make the quick and random decisions to leap over tables to either side of you, making it even harder for the chasers to predict your direction.

However, more men come from the opposite direction and appear a few tables before you. Without thinking, you pick up a tray of food and throw it at them. They throw their arms up to deflect the tray and in turn lose sight of you for just a second.

You take the opportunity to take a sharp turn in the other direction. Unfortunately for you, the only direction left for you to go is through another set of doors that no doubt leads to another maze of hallways.

The second you go through the doors, you duck down, avoiding the few crackling electricity sticks that jab towards you. You slip underneath one, tripping the guy in the process and creating a roadblock of a few seconds.

You bolt to the left, tossing things nearby onto the ground, leaving a maze of objects behind you. Every cart you pass by gets toppled onto the ground and earns you the precious seconds you desire.

You’re so focused on the people around you that you don’t notice thin white cloth wrapping around you. It snaps tight around you before you can even think. Your arms are pinned to your side and your legs are immobilised, causing you to fall flat to the ground.

As soon as you land on the ground, grunting from impact, electricity violently courses throughout you as multiple electrical batons prod at you. You blackout in seconds.

~*~

Your senses return much quicker the second time around. As soon as the bright light enters your eye, you jolt up, scrambling off of the cold metal table.

Pain is the only thing you feel. Pain pumping through your veins and making you shiver from movement. You back yourself against a wall, your hand instinctively curling around your stomach as nausea arises.

Before you are the purple haired Doctor Shinsou and the recognisable dark dressed man with a large scarf hiding his neck. He has a hand on his scarf and knees bent whilst Shinsou has his hands up in a surrendering manner.

“It’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you.” He says.

You glare at him in disbelief. “Oh really now?” You grimace as you speak, sharp pain erupts from the side of your neck, just below your jaw. When you touch it, you can feel raised, jarred skin.

“You were shocked by 4 electrical batons. That one on your neck is the most severe one because of the skin contact.” Shinsou informs as he watches your hand shake above the wound.

“So much for not harming me.” You scoff.

“Those guys were from a different department.” The unknown man speaks up. “They run on different protocols.”

You spend a few seconds staring at him, watching as he lowers his hands by his side. Recognition prods your mind. “You were the one to capture me.”

The guy breathes in. “For now call me Eraserhead. We’d like for you to join us in the conference room down the hall. We’ll discuss everything there.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s more than the three of us here?”

Shinsou, having put his hands down to his sides, answers you. “There’s only one more person and he’s waiting at the conference room. No more harm will come to you. Promise.”

You scrutinise his expression. The genuineness of his statement. Despite the short time you’ve talked with him, he seems genuine and reliable. So, on the little info you have, and with the foreign situation you are in, you decide your best bet for now is to trust him.

Shinsou walks out first, gesturing to you with a soft smile. Slowly, you stand up straight and start walking. You suppress the grimace as your leg shudders beneath you, most likely another wound area. With a deep breath, you push through the pain and limp out of the room. Eraserhead follows you closely.

The hallway is quiet, save for a few people here and there whispering to each other. Their eyes drift to you as you walk past them. You can feel their anger towards you and their disgust, you’re thankful the walk through the hallway is a short one.

Shinsou pushes open a door and steps aside to let you in. As soon as you set foot in the room, you analyse the room. It’s completely bare, save for the large oval table and the dozen-plus chairs surrounding it. Seated on one end of the table is a police officer. He has a brown coat thrown over his uniform. A matching brown hat sits on the table in front of him. His black hair is practically melded with his scalp, barely any strands sticking out. Your first impression of him isn’t the greatest and you decide to remain overly cautious.

“Hello.” He greets you as you walk in, almost like he was expecting you at that very second. It unnerves you. He gestures to the chair beside him. “Take a seat.”

You carefully step towards him. “I’d rather stand.” The scratchiness of your voice is still present, but you opt to ignore it.

He nods in understanding. “You can call me Tsukauchi.” You nod once, eyes glaring into his. “I’m sure you have questions.”

“I’m sure you have answers.” You fire back at him with a monotonous voice.

“I do. First I’d like to clear up the situation you're in at the moment. You are in a hospital north-”

“I already know that.” You nod towards Shinsou. “He explained that to me. I’m in northeast Tokyo. I wanna know why I’m here. And how I got here.”

Tsukauchi nods. “We’ve been keeping a close eye on you for a few weeks now. You’re known as the vigilante Shadow, aren't you? You’ve been in and out of activity for years.” Every word that he speaks increases your concern, but you fight to keep your expression neutral. “You’ve taken down thugs and criminals, but you’ve also stolen from civilians off the street.”

“Ok, imma stop you right there. I didn’t just steal from civilians, I also stole from those criminals.”

“You still stole from them.”

“Because I had to.” Your voice grows louder.

“Why?”

“Because-!” You stop yourself. You almost told him about the mall. Taking a deep breath, you start again. “I had to survive.”

It aggravates you the way he nods, as if he understands. “Like I said, we’ve been watching you. We apprehended you because we decided it would be best to approach you.”

“And you didn't try talking first?”

“We tried that. But as you can tell, that didn’t go well.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but you close it, realising he’s right. But another question surges through you. “Ok, then why were an army of police on standby in the area if you just wanted to talk?”

“We predicted your behaviour.” Throughout the entire chat, he’s remained calm and it irritates you to no end.

You scoff and shake your head. “Is there a point to this talk?”

Tsukauchi bends down to pull out a folder. “We believe you have potential.”

Worry sets in. “Potential for what?”

He slides the folder over to you. “Potential to become a hero.”

The room is silent. You stare at him in disbelief, despite your best efforts to keep a neutral face. The silence only lasts a couple of seconds however, as you burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry? Potential to become a hero?! What the actual fuck?! Haha! Weren’t you berating me as a vigilante fucking two minutes ago?” You double both in pain and laughter wheezing and gasping between breaths.

“Yes. Amongst everyone else, I see potential in you.” Tsukauchi waits a few seconds for you to catch your breath. “You’ve shown initiative in criminal activity. You are quick to rush in and protect civilians.”

“That’s because no one else is willing to, and there’s no police around to help them so I choose to step in.”

“Exactly.”

For a few seconds, you’re in deep thought about his words. He’s right. You have shown initiative, but does that really categorise you as a hero? If that's the case, then can’t everyone be a hero?

You look down at the folder on the table. Tentatively, you take a seat next to Tsukauchi, and open the folder.

Concealed inside is a small stack of papers. A small paragraph is printed on each page, addressing you and claiming that you agree to the terms and conditions that follow. On the bottom is a line with your name underneath. As you skin through each page, you come across to a highly detailed table chart.

“By signing these forms, you agree to a temporary deal in which you will live with Eraserhead and follow his rules.” You snap your attention to Tsukauchi, eyes bulging from distress. With a glance towards Eraserhead, who confirms with a nod, you sink further into the seat.

Tsukauchi continues. “You must agree to no vigilante activity whilst in his care. You’ll be monitored every minute of every day as long as you're in his care.”

“That chart in your hands,” Eraserhead speaks up, gesturing to the detailed chart in your hands. You take another look at it, noticing the times lined against each row and the days lined above each column. “It’s a timetable which I’ve set out for you to follow. You do exactly what it says to, and you won’t get charged for any of your vigilante crimes.”

“I’m getting charged?!” You stand up with shock and rage. Tsukauchi and Eraserhead jump to a stand as well. “So you’re saying that I either take up this so-called ‘opportunity’, or I get sent to prison for however long you deem fit? Sounds like a fucking threat if you ask me!”

“Hey, it’s alright. I pro-”

“It’s not alright!” You turn to Shinsou, fighting to keep back the tears building up behind your eyes. “None of this is okay! I’m being stripped of my freedom, all for what? To keep an eye on my behaviour?!” You turn to Tsukauchi, staring him down with a firm expression. “I have responsibilities to uphold.”

“Whatever it is, I’m sure they can be put on hold for a while.��� He says.

“They can’t!”

Minutes pass by, the tension in the air running thick. You run your hand through your hair, sighing with frustration and surrender before fixing your posture. “What I’m about to say, does not leave this room.”

“If you agree to the contract-”

You snap your gaze to Eraserhead. “If I agree to this contract I will keep up my end. But you have to keep up yours.”

He stares at you for a few seconds before nodding, allowing you to continue.

Your heart thunders in your chest with nerves and irritation. Tears threaten to fall but you remain stubborn as ever. With a deep breath, you let it out. “There is an abandoned mall on the outskirts of Tokyo. It’s where I and a ton of other homeless people stay. We're like a family. We protect each other and help where necessary. There are some people like me who’ve rescued kids from all sorts of situations, and those kids form a bond with us. A bond that acts like a lifeline. It’s their emotional lifeline.” Without noticing, a tear falls from your eye. After furiously rubbing at your eyes, you continue. “It’s impossible for me to leave them. Not while their emotional stability is still fragile. I’m sure you know enough of psychology to understand that.”

The room is silent as the three males ponder your revelation. They look between each other, wondering what to say, what to do with the new information. Sure, there were rumors of more people like you, but to hear the information come from you was different; it was no longer a rumor.

“This timetable isn’t possible for me to follow. I need some time with the mall. I need to let the kids know that I’m still there for them.”

Tsukauchi looks to Eraserhead. “It’s your call.”

Eraserhead sighs deeply as all eyes turn on him expectantly. “I’ll allow a one hour visit two days a week.”

“Three days.” You interject.

Dark eyes glare at you, but you remain stubborn and strong against his eyes. The sigh he lets go of borders on a growl. “One hour visits, three days a week. With supervision.” He enunciated the last sentence, indicating there would be no objections.

Despite your desire to argue, you know it’ll be useless. So, putting on a tough persona, you pick up the contract folder and practically shove it under his nose. “I want that in writing.”

The man remains still, half-lidded eyes staring at you for what seems like hours. It feels as if he’s stabbing you with just his gaze alone. Finally, he snatches the folder out of your hands and slaps it down on the table. He then takes a nearby pen and begins to furiously write on one of the papers. Once scribbling his signature, he steps back, allowing you to inspect his writing.

You do so, ensuring each word says as it's supposed to. Eraserhead holds out the pen to you. After some hesitance, you take the pen and lean down. The pen hovers over the paper. Your heart beats hard, you can feel it in your throat as if it's ready to spew out at any moment. You take a few steady breaths, your hand shaking the pen slightly. One more deep breath, and you put the pen to the paper.

Each letter written feels wrong, incriminating and abandoning. It feels exactly how you expected it; like your freedom was slipping away with each pen stroke.

As soon as you write the last letter, you stand up, the pen falling from your limp fingers.

Tsukauchi takes the folder and pockets it into his briefcase below the table. “I believe Dr. Shinsou wanted to do a last check-up. He’ll also be the one that will be attaching the ankle monitor. We’ll be using that to monitor you.”

You simply nod, the will to argue no longer there. You follow Shinsou out the room, head tilted down in both shame and surrender.

Your mind is numb, barely registering anything said to you. As Shinsou gestures for you to sit atop the examination table, you take notice of the nurse. The same nurse as before, this time with a bandage across her nose.

She appears reluctant to be near you, you can see her hands shake as they reach out to apply the blood pressure strap.

“I’m sorry.” Your apology is quiet but startles the woman. However, a smile eases on her face.

“It’s ok.” She replies, voice slightly hitched due to the bandage. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

The conversation is left at that. Shinsou and the nurse, who said her name was Sakura, do the basics, heart, lungs, eyes, ears. After completing them, Shinsou appears with a steel bracelet with a small box attached to it.

He doesn't get the chance to speak as you lift up your ankle. He peers into your eyes, taking note of the dread-filled gaze that appears to stare at nothing. With a sigh, he carefully clips the bracelet into place.

“Is it too tight?” His only response is a light shrug. He can’t help but feel bad for you. He proceeds to press and hold a button. The device turns on at the action, a small light on the box flicks on as two small beeps sound. As soon as that's done, Shinsou guides you out of the room.

When you step out, you are approached by a long blonde haired male, a gloved hand sticking out towards you.

“Hello listener!” His voice is loud and overly excited, but you barely pay any mind to him. He observes your mute behaviour and turns to his husband. Eraserhead simply shakes his head.

“This is my husband Yamada. You can call me Aizawa.” He says as he walks away.

You follow him without delay, mindlessly pocketing the info.

The drive is silent and tense. You stare out the window the entire trip, watching as the environment passes by. There’s no thoughts running through your mind, nothing to think about but the dread and disappointment of letting the mall down.

You barely register you’ve stopped, so induced in your negativity that you don’t notice that Aizawa is before you, waiting for you to step out.

The house is two stories tall, a small wood fence outlining the property. It’s a fairly modern-looking house, a front porch stretching a metre out the front yard. It’s decently sized, looking to fit a modern family of five.

Entering the house, you register a lounge room and kitchen across from each other from the front house, then straight ahead are stairs leading up to the second floor. Beside that is a hallway which you are told leads to a bathroom and laundry.

Your gaze wanders to the kitchen, where you find a black cat sitting on the bench, staring at you with yellow eyes.

“Oh, that’s Jelly. We have another cat named Muffin, she’s nicer than Jelly, he likes to scratch.” The Yamada explains. His smile drops however as your gaze falls to the floor. “How about I show you to your room?” He gestures upstairs.

You shrug, allowing him to lead you upstairs. He turns down the hall to a room at the end. “Here it is!” He opens the door, his green eyes shining with delight.

You peer into the room, gazing at the layout. A double bed is pressed up against a wall, a small table on each side. A desk lays opposite the bed, small and bare. Sliding doors in the wall indicate a wardrobe. It’s bare of anything and feels completely unnatural to you.

“It used to be a spare room, but now that you’re here it’s all yours! Don’t worry we have another.”

You ignore him and walk into the room, taking a seat on the bed.

“Hey,” His voice is significantly dialled down in both tone and volume as he approaches you. “I know this may seem scary, but we’re here to help you. Aizawa may seem like a blunt and harsh guy, but he’ll come around. Eventually.” He then kneels down before you, a soft smile on his face, his glasses on the tip of his nose. “Technically my name is Aizawa-Yamada but that’s for legal purposes. We’re teachers and figured it’d be easier for the students to separate us. That and Aizawa doesn’t like our relationship to be public information. If you’d like, you can call me by my first name, Hisashi.”

You nod, numbly tucking away the information. You jolt slightly as Hisashi places a hand on your knee.

“Why don’t you get some rest? The drugs from the hospital are probably still in effect.”

With a gentle squeeze, he stands up and exits the room, closing the door behind him. In the end, he was right. You take the time to realise how foggy your mind is and how exhausted your limbs feel.

Having no choice in the matter, you lay down on the bed.

You stare at the ceiling, the silence of the room overcoming your senses. It’s then that everything seems to properly set in your mind. Tears cascade down the side of your face, and you do what you can to silence your sobs.

You told them everything you didn’t want to. Although it gave you something, you still risked the safety of everyone. You may have just caused their demise. All for what? What was the purpose of all this? To become a hero?

Did you want to be a hero? Is it worth all this?

What would everyone think when you visited them? Aizawa would no doubt be supervising you. And if he wasn’t, the device on your ankle would surely broadcast your position.

What else was the device for? Could it hear you? Could it see what you were doing? Could it harm you?

Your mind whirls with unanswered questions, each question that rises allows another tear to fall from your eyes. Sleep comes quickly, haunting you with all of the day's events.

When you wake with a jolt, you wish for it all to be just that. A simple nightmare, something that Dabi could soothe away. But that wish shatters as you look around. The room was too spacious, the view was too pretty, the walls were too new, and the device around your ankle was still annoyingly present.

[amoristt]

Not My Boyfriend | Nathan x Reader

disclaimer: i know nathan is not a good person. i am not putting a blanket over his actions in this fic. i, the writer, understand he’s not an innocent character and has made many terrible choices. im just answering people’s requests, please dont put me under the fire for it.

thank you.

Anonymous asked:  CAN YOU DO NATHAN X READER (FLUFF 15) PLEASE! ;U; AND MAYBE A FLUFFY KISS TOO!

sure thing! this was a lot of fun to write :3 hope you guys like it! the prompt is, “He’s not my boyfriend!”

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Not My Boyfriend

A bird landing inches away from you was a softly lived moment. Fingers that were previously punching numbers into a calculator froze. You barely moved to look up from your homework, all those menacing papers sprawled haphazardly over the wooden picnic table, as to not scare it. It was small, barely larger than the palm of your hand. It’s eyes were beady and unexpecting, it’s wings tucked safely against its fat little body. It hopped from one spot to another, occasionally leaning forward to tilt it’s little head at your calculous. If not for the lack of color in it’s eyes you’d have thought it was confused by your scribbled text.

“Me too,” You breathed, and just that little sound scared it away. You watched it go all the way until it disappeared behind a hefty building, red with bricks and green with vines creeping up the edges. A disinterested sigh passed your lips, your mind bored and exhausted from grinding it’s gears all day. It was noon and you were halfway done with your work, but there was still a small pile of papers that demanded your attention. Even the sight of them made your headache worsen, the pulsing racing in between your temples.

Spring break had come to a sorrowful end. Goodbye sleeping in, goodbye staying out late, and hello school life once again. The eraser of your pencil tapped against your lips idly, fingers itching to do anything than continue writing. You missed summer vacation so much it felt like it was a dull ache in the pit of your chest.

Surviving winter was hard for a summer lover like you, and you spent most of your christmas and winter breaks holed up in your dorm once you came back from visiting family. You weren’t alone there of course, either with your few select friends or your boyfriend, but you’d rather have died than went outside in the snow and freezing cold.

You smiled at the memory, though. You hated winter but staying inside wasn’t bad. Watching movies wrapped in blankets, the taste of hot cocoa on your tongue, the feeling of an arm slung over your shoulder. Half of the time you were never even focused on the movie playing, too caught up in the lips pressed against your own, the hand tugging through your hair, the taste of him.

Nathan Prescott.

Kissing Nathan outside of a party was like spotting the wildest rose, beautiful but distant. Never outside the walls of your dorm did he trace the shape of your jaw, kiss at your collar bones, or let his palms glide down the valley of your back. With soft background noise and a blanket he let himself feel you wherever he pleased, and you welcomed it. He himself wasn’t too much of a fan of the feeling, sometimes recoiling when you touched at him, but he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your skin. Even subconsciously his hands would drift as close at they could, briskly grazing you.

Outside, however, was another story. In solitude he was never the iron-clad, hard headed asshole his reputation so easily displayed him out to be. He was sarcastic, sharp, and he was far from sickly sweet, but he wasn’t Arcadia Bays’ infamous Nathan Prescott. He was your Nathan. He was your Nathan that kissed you on your shoulders but also laughed when you fell off the bed. He was your Nathan that took photos of you, made you look like an angel, but he also was your Nathan that would sometimes draw devil horns on them.

In the winter he was your Nathan that snuck into your room and brought you cocoa, and in the summer he would ‘accidentally’ lose the key he stole from you in order to lock you outside for the day.

He had many sides to him, sides that no one would get to know, but he wasn’t evil. Devious, almost annoyingly so at times, but never… Malicious. Of course he could be, and you knew that. He could be the most volatile person to walk the halls of Blackwell should he want to, but when it came to you he would sneak along the hallways, slip into your room quiet as a mouse uninvited just because he ‘felt like it’. Truth be told, he missed you.

In your back pocket your phone vibrated, making you realize you’d drifted deeper into thought than you had intended. Without even looking at the notification you were already smiling- you knew who it was. Sure enough when you retrieved the device his name lit up clear as day, ‘yorkie’. It was a teasing remark you’d called him once while comparing him to dogs, and you settled on yorkie because they’re small but act like demons. He wasn’t too thrilled over the choice but you thought it was funniest shit, so you ran with it. 

When you learned your relationship with Nathan would have to be hidden from the school, you chose the first nickname that came into your head for his contact.

‘where r u?’

Before typing out your reply you gave a quick look-see around, making sure it was just you at the lonesome, miniature park. When it was first built it was overflowing with kids, but soon parents learned that 2 swings, a merry go round, and a few picnic tables wouldn’t suffice for entertainment. Without the shrill cries of toddlers and kids, you’d found it made an excellent study spot.

‘park. catching up on some hw rn.’ You leaned forward, elbows resting on the scratchy wooden surface. ‘why :0? anything up?

He replied almost instantly, a simple ‘nah. dont go anywhere, im gunna b there soon.’

‘wouldnt dream of it. see u soon’

You set the phone to the side and sighed, looking down at both your finished and unfinished work. It taunted you, and you swore it sounded like they were laughing when a warm breeze sent a few pieces fluttering. Drained, you started to gather all of the worksheets up, stacking them atop each other and then scooting them down the table. It almost physically hurt when you grabbed an unfinished sheet, the words ‘chemistry’ causing you to inwardly groan in defeat. With all this work you cursed your past self for not doing it bit by bit over break in order to avoid a situation like this.

By the time Nathan arrived, hands shoved in his pockets and his head ducked down like a stalking cat, you had gone through 2 more sheets and your headache had doubled. You waved a worn-out hello when he came into your view, and he took a look at your current state of being and shook his head.

“Seriously?” He scoffed, hopping onto the seat beside you. “You’re actually doing this all?”

“Course I am,” You added one more sheet to the finished pile. “I do want to get good grades, you know.”

Nathan leaned on one arm, his angular chin propped by an even more angular hand. “Just cheat like everyone else.”

“The last time you suggest that I failed entirely.” Although you tried to sound scolding, all that came out was an airy chuckle.  He rolled his eyes and his hand fell, his other coming up to join beside it. You grinned at him. “Is this too boring for you or something?”

“Actually?” he jumped up and sat on top of the picnic table rather than on the seat. With a look of almost disgust he read over the last sheet you’d finished. “Yeah, this is boring as fuck. What’s with the stack?”

A moan of anguish found it’s way out. “I was stupid and decided to procrastinate until last minute.”

“Why ever would you do that?” Nathan hummed, not looking up from your worksheet even when a knowing, sly grin took over his lips. You fought the urge to smack his knee.

“Not funny,” your pencil drew light circles at the corner of your paper. “This is seriously stressing me out.”

“So take a break then,” Nathan hopped down beside you again, his nimble fingers snatching the pencil right from your fingers. You wanted to argue, reach out and grab it, but you lacked the energy and motivation. Bad move, you learned, because the minute he stole your pencil he started writing crude phrases on the wood.

As he wrote you laughed, clicking your tongue and shaking your head. “You know kids see this shit, right?”

“Yeah, so?” He draw two circles beside each other and you rolled your eyes before he finished the piece. “Not like they know what it means anyways.”

“Yes but the parents do.”

“Oh no,” He leaned back again to admire his ugly work. “I’m so scared of little Tommy and his deadbeat, soccer mom.”

“Give me that back.” You swiped your pencil back now that he was finished, but the thought of returning to your work was a heavy one. Once again you cursed at your past self for thinking this would somehow all work out in the end. In the corner of your eyes you saw Nathan start to fidget with something he pulled from his pocket, and at that point you were desperate for something to gain your attention. “What’s that?”

He looked up at you briefly before turning back down to his item, then he set it out in front of him. It was a small camera it seemed, and cheaper than the rest of his devices, and it looked to be an instant camera along with that.

“I thought you were more into computer developed shots?”

Nathan used his sleeve to wipe at the camera's lens, then he shrugged. “I am, and believe me I wouldn’t be using his hipster piece of shit if I didn’t have to.”

Leaning forward you watched him toy around with the buttons. “So what’s it for then?”

“Photos, duh.” You shoved playfully at his shoulder and he smirked teasingly. “It’s something about the lighting I guess. Got a tip from a friend that instant cameras take the best candid shots.”

“Better candids, huh?” Slowly you reached out and grabbed at the camera, and Nathan surprisingly let you. Probably because he had little regard for the items’ safety- he could just get a new one. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” In an instant you’d reached the camera out, facing it towards you and Nathan, and he rolled his eyes but slung his arm around you none the less. However, unfortunately, he put up his middle finger as well.

Still, you took the shot, and for a moment a light blinded you. Then the picture developed and slid out from the bottom, your fingers reaching out to snatch the pic and then shake it quickly. It was warm like freshly printed paper, and if not for the fact that Nathan’s middle finger was up it would have been a pretty light hearted and sweet image, something you’d hang up in your room.

“Don’t show that to anyone,” Nathan said, and it was disheartening to know why. He tried to sound teasing, the words playing a jesting ‘i look bad there’, but it was deeper.

Your relationship was a secret to the outside community, a spectacle only you and him could observe. Sometimes it was okay, as it made you feel special. Only you knew the things you and him did behind closed doors, only you knew the feeling of the pads of his fingers trailing over your goosebump riddled skin. Only you knew the softness of his lips, the sharp angles of his jaw, and how dewy-eyed he got when you woke up beside each other. Other times a shallow and cold feeling tugged at your chest. Albeit never questioning why he chose to keep everyone in the dark, you knew he had his reasons and you weren’t going to pressure him on them. But… You still wondered. A million ideas would race through your head at night. Why, why why. However your qualms were quick to be distinguished when he’d show up at your dorm and find his way under your blankets, his body lean but radiating like a furnace.

The picture was still warm against your fingertips, and you smiled down at it. “Why not?” You playfully whined, both seriously and teasingly. “You look so cute here.”

Nathan rolled his eyes and tried to grab at the picture but you were too quick, leaning away from him and taking the photo of out his reach. He tried again, this time leaning over you in the process, but you got up and rose your eyebrows.

“Don’t make me chase you,” He narrowed his eyes, but they were anything but angry. He was enjoying himself. “We both know how that always ends up.” Waving the photo tauntingly in the air, he started to get up from his seat. The moment his feet touched ground you jumped, running left then right while knowing he was hot on your trail.

It was always so jarring how much faster he was than you. In seconds he was grasping at your shoulders, fingers catching the fabric, and you were turned to face him. Thanks to your speed you almost fell backwards but you caught his shoulders, managing to regain your footing. He was grabbing at the image and you kept it held close, a laugh rising at the feeling of his fingers poking at your skin. His footing faltered and you took it as a moment to make your gleeful escape, but he caught your wrist and stopped you from going too far. Although fast, he lacked endurance, and he was out of breath as he  wrapped his arms around your waist to stop you from going anywhere. You swatted at his chest and squirmed, but found yourself trapped.

“Photo, now.” He demanded with a grin in knowing he had you caught.

You opened your mouth to tell him never, but another voice halted you.

“What’s all this?”

In that moment both yours and Nathan’s blood ran cold. He was so quick to let you go, the force making you stumble before you stilled and stared at the two figures approaching with wide, fearful eyes. Nathan seemed more irritated than afraid like you, and his hands balled into fists. God damn it, his eyes said, and you felt your stomach drop at the thought of him being upset over the fact that he’d been caught messing around with you.

Two teens, Blackwell students by the looks of their jackets, were close now. Your stomach churned when you recognized the speakers short brown hair, his red jacket that mimicked Nathan’s. Logan Robertson. Beside him you recognized Zachary, a slightly nicer but still equally malicious football player.

You and Nathan traded looks in knowing full well where this was going.

“You and ___?” Logan started in a taunting tone. “Never thought you for the type to go for the underdogs.”

Zachary leaned his head back to laugh before he spoke up too. “Gotta say it’s smart, Nate. The nobodies are so easy to pick up.”

The words hurt but you didn’t dare argue back. Your relationship was a secret, and it would be the end of the world if those two morons found out about it. With sand in your throat you swallowed down your pride, remembering the fact that yours and Nathan’s relationship was at stakes. He meant too much for you to lose just because two dickheads wanted to cause drama.

“That’s not-- We aren’t-” You stumbled over your words as you frantically tried to find out a way to explain what they had seen. Carefully you hid the photo behind your back. “We were just-”

Logan snickered. “We were- We were just- we- we- we- Spit it out, sister!”

“Studying!” Your tongue felt heavy. Nathan rose a brow and you squeezed your eyes shut at the vague and thin lie.

Zachary crossed his arms, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “Bullshit. We all know Nathan Prescott doesn’t study.”

“Yes the fuck I do!” He chided, seeming personally offended by the jocks statement. “I study all the damn time, which is what you two lemmings should be doing too.”

“Since when do you care about class? You hardly even bother to show up half the time.” Logan said, and you swallowed thickly at the scene starting to play out in front of you. Logan’s eyes found you and he scoffed. “Don’t tell me ___’s the type of person to force her boyfriend into being good.”

Heat rose to your cheeks. They knew. They knew, they knew, they knew, and yours and Nathan’s relationship was as good as over. Your chest felt like it was concaving and you acted out as quickly as your racing brain could allow you too.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You blurted. It was loud and forced, but it left all three of them stunned for a moment.

Among of all them, Nathan seemed the most taken aback.

You didn’t stay long enough for them to poke more at your words, pivoting off your heel and barreling straight for your papers. From the wind a few had blown from your pile and you carelessly grabbed at them, shoving and crumpling them into your bag. Nathan was saying something from where he stood but you weren't listening, already slinging your bag over your shoulder and taking your leave.

Suddenly the photo you still held in your hand felt like it weighed a ton.

It was a few hours until you managed the courage to text him again.

Though now riddled with a bad memory you were right back at the park, this time without the anchor of your school bag or the headache from equations. No, all you had with you was your phone, your wallet, and that damn photo. You’d forgotten that on the way home you shoved it into your pocket and upon returning to the park to relax, it crossed your mind again. Although planning to spend some time alone, the sight of you and him happy together made you do something you’d been thinking about for months.

Step one of your emotionally drenched plan was to invite him to the park, and it was an invite he took without argument. Something felt off in his text, it felt… careful, like he knew exactly what was coming. A storm brewed in your gut.

The wait for him to show up was a relentless one, and the whole time you considered the idea of backing out, but it seemed fate would have it otherwise because when you picked your phone up to text him ‘nevermind’ you saw the photo again. It sat on your lap like a brand, and you set your phone back down beside you and groaned. This could be the end or a very fruitful beginning.

Step two was put into motion when he arrived, spotting you on the merry go round where he took a seat beside you. He was smooth in his motions, much more thoughtful than he was earlier. The way he glanced side to side before approaching you did not go unnoticed.

With the hours that passed the sun fell, and now that it was early in the evening everything was saturated in a brilliant gold thanks to the setting sun. If not for the ton of bricks that rolled around in your stomach you would have appreciated the scenery a bit more, but the nausea welling in your throat couldn’t be overridden by pretty clouds or the golden hour.

“What’s up?” He asked, breaking the silence you formed unawarely. He was anxious with his words, like he was expecting some life changing news on your behalf.

You shrugged casually despite the raging fire in your head. The last thing you wanted to do was rile him up. “I just,” The sand formed in your throat again and you almost gagged on it. “Wanted to talk about something.”

“Earlier?”

Lips pressed into a tight line, you nodded glumly. He made a noise of distress and leaned back, his gaze unset and unfocused.

“Look, they’re assholes, but I don’t think they’re gonna go telling everyone shit about me and you.”

“That’s not it,” You shook your head and pressed your hand against your throbbing temple. “The thing is, I don’t care if people know.”

“You seem pretty fucked up about it, though.”

“That’s because I know you wanted to keep it some big secret.”

Nathan took note of your words, eyeing you with knit brows. “I don’t want us to be some ‘big secret’, that’s just kind of how it has to go.”

“Why?” Your hands fell against your lap and you frowned up at him, but he wasn’t looking. “Why do we have to keep everything to ourselves?”

“Why does it matter so much?” He finally looked down at you, his expression tight, his jaw leveled. “What we’re doing is working out just fucking fine, isn’t it?”

You sighed. “Yeah, yeah it’s working.”

“Then what's the big issue?”

“It just-” you ran a hand through your hair roughly, trying to find the right words. “I don’t see why we can’t tell anyone! I mean yeah it’s fine, we’re working, but just- tell me why it’s so important that no one knows.”

“Because you'd fucking hate it if everyone knew!” His voice held so many emotions, but the two most prominent was the obvious anger and the less obvious worry. “Believe me, ___ if people found out you were involved with me you’d run for the fucking hills.”

You blinked at him, lips parted. “Why would I leave you?”

“Are you serious?” He looked down at his lap. “God, you’d get attacked. Maybe not physically but fuck, you’d get ripped into. Do you want to end up like me?”

Your gaze lowered to your legs, the photograph on your lap. “You seem to handle it just fine.”

“If you call drinking and starting fights ‘just fine’ then hell yeah I’m doing great.” He picked at his pants absently. “Never better.”

“Nathan,” You looked up at him. “I don’t care what people say about me. The years almost over, highschool drama is highschool drama. It doesn’t matter in the real world.”

Nathan groaned, rubbing his cheeks with his hands in stress. “It goes way further than that.”

“So what then?” That heat rose to your cheeks but it wasn’t accompanied by the fluttering of your heart. No, it was anger, a sinking and hot stone that ground against your bones. “We just date in the shadows where everythings nice and fucking cozy?”

“What’s wrong with that!”

“Everything!” Now it was your turn to rub at your face, irritated and huffy. “I don’t want to have to constantly feel like I’m being watched when I’m with you! I don’t want to have to worry about seen all the time, and I sure as hell don’t want to keep feeling like you’re ashamed to be with me!” You were talking so quickly, so fervently, you forgot to think before you spoke. You blurted out a thought that had eating away at you, and he gaped at you for it.

“You think I’m ashamed of you?” He asked, voice low and hissing. “That’s what you think this is about?”

You swallowed thickly and tried to eat the lump forming in your throat. “Sometimes.”

Nathan’s features softened, and he leaned back to look up at the sky. “___, that’s not… Shit, that’s not what this is about.” He sighed. “I just don’t want you to get all hurt because some hipster bitch won’t leave you alone. The thought of you going off and leaving me because of drama sucks.”

“I wouldn’t leave you over that.” You croaked. “I wouldn’t.”

“It’s easy to say that now.” He said, mostly to himself, but you responded anyways.

“I wouldn’t leave you over pointless shit, Nathan.” Using your sleeves you wiped roughly at your eyes. “I just want to- I just wanna be able to do shit with you outside my room is all.”

“What can we do outside your room that we can’t inside?”

You shrugged. “It’s different outside.” Through the ever growing blurriness of your vision, you looked up at him.

Nathan’s eyes seemed farther away, facing into the trees that surrounded the dingy little park. His silence was deafening and fear crept under your skin, made your face heat up in anxiety. You felt like you’d screwed up pretty badly, like you’d ruined something. The lack of an answer, even if it was just an irritated sigh, made you antsy. When your lips parted to speak up he beat you to it.

“If you can handle it,” He started, closing his eyes, giving in. “Then sure, whatever.”

You blinked at him slowly, processing. The thought of being open with him made your chest feel like it was filled with cotton. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. If you really don’t care then…” His eyes opened, and they were almost golden with the setting sun's reflection. “Then I don’t either.”

A smarter part of you knew that you shouldn’t be as starstruck as you were. Being with Nathan had a price, and it was a damaging one. It was easy to claim that you didn’t mind some harassment here and there since you were alone, safe with him, but what would happen when you were alone? You weren’t the strongest, you weren’t the fastest. You didn’t want to use Nathan’s name as a shield, either. If some asshole decided to make your day hell then you were stuck.

But, a dumber, romantic part of you, didn’t care. So much of you wanted to touch him, fingers longing to lock and intertwine with his own. Nathan was bony and uncomfortable yet your heart stuttered at hugging him, leaning against him, lying beside him. He was so closed off and guarded that when he finally did open up bits of himself you greedily couldn’t get enough.

“Good,” you breathed. Words tumbled against the tip of your tongue but they couldn’t take shape, your lips moving to try and force another sentence out. That same dry and full feeling returned and it was a miracle you could even speak at all when you asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Nathan was caught off guard. You could see it in his eyes, the way they zeroed in on you before shifting back to nothing in particular. Beneath you the merrygoround creaked as it barely moved. When he looked at you, uncertain, you swallowed thickly and readied yourself to apologize. However, you didn’t need to. He nodded once and ducked beneath the railing, and you met him halfway with your heart thudding in your chest.

It was a quick kiss, chaste and rather plain, but it was more than enough. He molded against you perfectly in those few seconds, his eyes closed and shoulders relaxed. Before it ended your fingers twitched to reach out and grab some part of him, hold him close, but he broke away before you managed to. Albeit having kissed before, this one felt different. You and Nathan had been lip locked for hours on end it seemed sometimes, wrapped around one another to the point where you had no idea where you started and he ended. However this wasn’t like those times. This kiss was shy and sensitive, and when you finally opened your eyes he wasn’t looking at you anymore.

“How was that?” He asked suddenly, his sentence rushed and wavery. You smiled and reached out to gently take the fabric of his jacket in your hand.

“Again.”

Once more Nathan looked down at you but his previous expression was gone, his qualms away with it. Oddly affectionate, warm even, a sight that you’d come to know but didn’t get to see quite often. He ducked under the bar again and just like before you met him halfway, your lips meeting more intense than they had before. This kiss you recognized. It was the type of kiss you felt when he was in a calmer state of mind, usually met when he’d just woken up from a long nap, or when he decided to get loving during a night in your dorm.

It was tender, and softer than anything you’d even known. He didn’t pull away moments later this time- if anything he deepened the kiss with a tilt of his head in the process. You fisted his jacket and tried to scoot closer to him, but found you were separated from the railing placed in between your bodies.

When you and him broke apart the last thing on your mind was the fact that you were still out in the open, able to be seen by whomever happened to be around. Instead you were focused on the light dusting of pink on his cheeks, and the way that his eyes darted from your own to something else in timidity. You realized that as much as this was new to you, it was even more new to him. He’d probably never had a public relationship before, not one that worked out anyways.

You grinned, a giggling laugh slipping past your lips. He scoffed at your bubbliness and rolled his eyes, shifting back onto his side of the railing and shaking his head. Still you saw beyond the action, taking mental note of the way his lips seemed to make an effort as to not curl up into a smile.  

Shards of the sun leaked through the trees, now fat with leaves as they should be, and they painted the side of his face. The merry go round creaked again as it slowly spun, your shoes lightly digging into the wood chips on the ground. Nathans hand rested close to your own, and it felt like he was wordlessly inviting you. Tentatively, as if reaching out to pet an animal, you brushed your fingers along his scarred knuckles and felt them twitch. He didn’t move his hand away like he used to when you’d accidentally brush yours against his own. Those moments stung, and now this would be the bandage.

The ride stopped drifting in circles, you watched the treelines beside Nathan, and you held his hand.