#the game just pisses me off in a million different ways and this doesn’t even rank on some of the worst ways

[cringefailwritherage]

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 8- Something to Believe In

Summary: Frankie makes good on his promise to pick you up from work.

Word count: 3.7K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)

Warnings: Having a panic attack (cue Frankie to the rescue), mentions of death and grieving, angst, yearning, could we perhaps be ✨making progress✨?

A/N: Hi friends!! Thanks for bearing with me after no new chapter last week! This one's also on the shorter side, but that's not to say there aren't some BIG things happening 👀 My hope is to have another chapter done by next week, but with holiday business, it may have to be two weeks between chapters again (sorry sorry sorry!!) Thank you as always for your lovely and kind words, ily all so much MWAH

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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Frankie, Present 

“I’m done at ten.” 

By the time he gets back home at 6:43, he’s already counting down the hours until you’re finished with your shift. 

Three hours and seventeen minutes, to be exact. 

For as much as Frankie could easily spend the next three hours and seventeen minutes doing nothing but staring at the clock hanging adjacent to the TV in the living room, he knows he’ll drive himself out of his goddamn mind. He needs something to do. 

If he keeps himself busy, he can’t fester on the million and one ways he could manage to fuck this up. 

Frankie forces himself to eat some sort of half-assed dinner, despite his nervous nausea that’s got the best of him. He purposely uses as many dishes and utensils to make a sandwich as humanly possible- if he does, it gives him something to do after. 

He cleans out his entire truck, down to vacuuming every last crumb crunched between the driver’s seat and center console. He debates washing the car himself in the driveway, but if he drives it to the carwash three blocks down the road, it’ll kill more time. 

On his way home, he stops at Auto Zone to get you a new car battery and exchanges it for your old one, dead, under the hood of your car. 

Frankie takes a shower so long, he can feel in real time the water shift from boiling hot, to luke warm, to ice cold. He washes his hair twice. His body, three times. 

He unpacks just about every item of clothing from his suitcase, laying them out on his bed in multiple combinations of pants and shirts, debating whether you'll think he’s a psychopath for showing up in a different outfit only a few hours after dropping you off. Frankie settles on shorts and a t-shirt- nice enough he doesn’t look like a fool, but casual enough for you not to suspect he’s been staring at every article of clothes he owns for the past thirty minutes. 

And somehow, after all of that, he still ends up in the Parrot’s Nest parking lot at 9:23. 

Thirty-seven minutes worth of waiting is a lot more manageable than the better part of three hours. 

Unfortunately, the last thirty-seven minutes he spends sitting in the parking lot are the most agonizing of his whole endeavor. 

He throws the last few innings of the Tampa Bay Rays game on the radio in the background, unable to stand the sound of silence that haunts him when he’s alone with his thoughts. 

Frankie tries not to panic at the fact that it seems like he’s forgotten how to engage in basic human conversation, praying that no one can see the way he’s rehearsing his greeting to you upon your arrival into the passenger seat. 

“Hey, what’s up? No, fuck, that’s stupid.” Frankie mutters to himself, running his palm over his face, “Hey, MacKenzie, how was work? No, ‘cause what if work was fucking awful and I’m just gonna piss her off more. Jesus.” 

He takes a few more long, deep breaths, staring at the roof of his truck while he tries to concoct the perfect set of words to string together. 

“Hey, Kenz. Kenzie? MacKenzie? Does she even fucking go by Kenz anymore? Fuck. Hey, miss me?” He jokes by his lonesome, his fake smile quickly fading at the anticipation of your response, “She obviously didn’t miss you, idiot. You’re lucky you can barley get her to fucking talk to you. Fuck me.” 

His pained groan and scrunched shut face are enough cut off the awareness to his surroundings just long enough to leave him oblivious to the fact you’ve not only exited the Parrot’s Nest, but have made your way across the parking lot and have your hand wrapped around the passenger door, rattling the handle. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Frankie shouts, nearly jumping out of his own skin at the way you’ve announced yourself by shaking at the locked door. 

So much for rehearsing. 

“F-fuck-” He stammers, taking a moment to catch his breath from your scare, praying he hasn’t managed to shit his pants from how badly you’ve startled him. Once his pulse settles to rate low enough he’s convinced he hasn’t died of a heart attack, he leans over to unlock your door, unable to make eye contact with you as he grimaces his face in embarrassment. 

“S-sorry.” you murmur, sheepishly climbing into the seat next to him, quietly clicking in your seatbelt. 

“Jesus Kenz, you scared the shit outta me.” Frankie gulps, still trying to compose himself. He runs his hand through the curls of his hair, taking one last slow inhale and exhale with his eyes peeled to the floor, hoping the pink drains from his cheeks before he looks over at you. 

“Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to. I thought maybe you fell asleep, or something. You shrug, trying to defend your reasoning. 

“I wouldn’t offer to come pick you up and then fall asleep on you, I’m not that big of an assho-” 

Frankie cuts himself off before he can finish the rest of his thought, feeling the “L” and “E” of “asshole” die off somewhere in the back of his throat, killed by the death glare you give in proclamation of his own self-righteousness.  

He starts the car without another word, pulling out of the parking lot and hoping that his silence begs enough forgiveness. 

The crackling static of the car radio fills the void between you, Andy Freed’s ecstatic voice capturing both of your attentions enough to let the current state of the Tampa Bay Rays game shift your focus. 

“What’s the score?” You ask, nonchalant, eyes wandering anywhere but Frankie’s direction. 

“Oh- uh, I- I think it was 1-3 last time I checked, but it sounds like someone on the Rays just hit a sac fly, so I’m guessing it’s 2-3, now.” 

There’s a moment of silence, Frankie assuming you’ve got it in you to at least make one question’s worth of small talk. You seem just as surprised as him that you don’t let the conversation die there. 

“Did you um- you watched the game when you got home?” 

Your gaze won’t lock with his, but now, it’ll at least travel in his general direction. 

“N-no, I just uh- I just turned it on while I was waiting in the car.” 

“How long were you waiting for?” 

“N-not that long.” He barely gives you enough time to breathe, let alone call him out on his bullshit before he’s changing the subject, “How uh- how was work?” 

“Oh- It was uh- it was fine. Went by really slow. B-because it wasn’t um, it wasn’t that busy.” 

Frankie’s no code breaker, but he hopes the way you’re so quick to give him a reason why your shift had dragged on is a secret way of saying you spent just as long thinking about him as he did about you. 

“Sorry it was so slow.” 

Frankie knows his apology doesn’t do anything for you, but the way he’s picking each word that comes out of his mouth has him feeling like he’s tiptoeing through a minefield, too scared to make any move besides the one that seems the safest. 

“It’s okay, not your fault. That’s honestly part of the reason I took this job- was to give myself something to do, so I don’t spend every last second that my dad is alive dwelling on the fact that pretty soon, he’s not gonna be alive. It’s stupid, but I guess if being preoccupied with serving middle aged couples mozzarella sticks and over-cooked steak tacos for a few hours helps, then so be it.”  

He knows better than anyone that your attempt at humor is your shield, but it’s not hard to see how weathered and worn it’s become, barely hanging on by a thread to protect you from the worst battle you still have yet to face. 

“N-no, it makes sense. Distractions help. I-It’s been hard, having to see him like this. I get it.” 

His last sentence makes your head snap up from the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie hopes that maybe your attentiveness means he’s had a breakthrough, showing enough genuine empathy that you’ll cut him a little slack. 

When he turns enough to see the scowl plastered across your face, he realizes he’s stepped on a bomb, and he’s moments away from explosion. 

“Oh, you ‘get it’, huh?” You scoff, sadistic smile curling in the corner of your cheeks. 

Frankie can see the way your blood is beginning to boil, trying to backtrack as quickly as possible to find any way to save himself. 

“N-no- I mean, shit-  no, Kenz, you know what I mean.” Frankie pleads. 

“No, I don’t know what you mean, Frankie. Please, explain.” 

The way your arms are crossed and head is cocked tells him everything he needs to know. Against his better judgement, Frankie decides not to take cover. He goes headfirst into the warzone. 

“C’mon, Kenz, don’t be like this.” Frankie sighs, preemptively kicking himself that this is the route he’s chosen to take. 

“Like what?” You snap back, sharp and sarcastic. 

“Like it’s not hard for me, too. Like I can’t be sad about it. You’re not the only person who cares about him, MacKenzie. He was the closest thing I had to a dad, too.” 

“But he’s not your dad, is he? And if you were, that’d make you a pretty shitty son, wouldn’t it?” 

It hits him like a cold, hard slap to the face, the way you don’t dare to show him even an ounce of mercy. There’s something about the bitterness in the way you ask it that hurts even more than if you would have just screamed at him, cursed him out, punched and pushed him until he bruised. 

A stark silence falls over the car, tension so thick, it’s like a bag of bricks has been dropped from the sky, drowning him in a useless pile of cement. There’s no use in crying for help. He doesn’t dare to speak, simply out of fear that if he does, this won’t be the worst of what’s yet to come. 

Frankie stays trapped for what feels like hours, each second passing by more painfully slow than the last as you stare out your window, watching the shadows of street lights dance across your body, illuminating you just enough to see the way your chest trembles with short, frantic breaths as you unravel. Your sobs can’t hide behind the silence in the way your tears can in the darkness. 

“Do you know how fucking lonely it is, Frankie? How lonely it is when everyone you’ve ever cared about leaves you? It’s like I’m fucking Midas, but everything I touch, eventually, I lose. A life before cancer, my soccer career, an engagement, a future, my dad, you? You don’t get to tell me how hard it is for you, because you get to let go of what you want on your terms, when it’s convenient for you, don’t you? I’m so sick of losing, Frankie. I’m so sick of it.” 

He watches in real time how something inside you snaps, like a bottle of soda that’s erupted after someone’s violently shaken shaken it, the twist of the cap releasing all the pressure and tension that’s been stored up and compounded upon with each rattle of their wrist. 

Frankie knows he’s not responsible for all of it, but he's the last bump you can take before you have no other choice but to overflow, leaving every ounce of you to seep out, vulnerable and exposed. 

What starts off as softs sobs, quickly shifts to heart wrenching heaves of your chest, every word you’re trying to get out lodged in your throat. He sees how your eyes fill with fear at the way you suddenly can’t catch your breath, body shaking as you shrink into your seat, fingers wrapping around your seatbelt with an iron grip around the worn fabric. 

“Kenz? Kenzie, are you okay?” It only seems fair he’s completely disregarded everything you’d had to say, beginning to panic at your tremoring figure crumpled next to him, speaking in nothing but violent wails you can’t control. 

“I- I- f-fuck, f-f- Frankie, fuck, n- no, no, I-” 

He won’t let you finish your thought- he only lets you stammer out the few words you can manage before he’s pulled off on the nearest neighborhood side street he can find. He blames it on military habit, how quick he is to react in the face of your panic, but he knows damn well it’s nothing but instinct the way he’s all but throwing off his seatbelt so he can reach across the center console and wrap you in his arms. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. Just try and breathe, okay?” Frankie whispers, squeezing you so tightly in his arms you just might break. 

“I c-can’t, I can’t, fuck, i-it- it, it f-feels like I can’t breathe.” You sob, feeling your tear stains pool in the fabric of his shirt covering, face buried against his chest. 

“I know. I know it’s scary. I promise you’re okay, it’ll pass. Just try and breathe with me, okay?” 

He hopes you don’t notice how shaky his own breaths are, trying his best to stay calm with each long inhale and exhale he takes. The wave of grief that washes over him is different than the one you’re drowning in, the kind that makes his heart break at the type of panic he’s known all too well- he’d give every bone in his body to absorb your pain and make it his, but the best he can do is hold you until it subsides. He’ll hold you all night, if that’s what it takes. 

It’s a few minutes before he can finally feel your heart rate starting to slow, the stiffness of your muscles beginning to ease in his grasp as you come back down to earth with him. Your tears haven’t stopped, but at least your chest starts to rise and fall with his. It’s a baby step, but he’ll take any steps he can get in the right direction. 

“There ya go. Just like that. It’s okay. Worst of it’s over, I promise.” 

With the way one thumb is gently stroking your back and the other is carefully brushing the back of your head, it’s safe to say every inhibition Frankie could have has flown out the window. He hates how there’s a selfish part of him that can’t describe the way it feels to hold you again, even if it’s like this, but that’s a battle of his own he’s not willing to face today. For now, he’ll accept the sweet bliss of his self-indulgence while you’re curled against him. 

“You’re okay, Kenz. I’m here. I promise, you’re okay.” 

Enough time passes that his t-shirt isn’t getting any wetter, finally brave enough to peek your head up from the crook of his neck to wipe your tear stained cheeks with the back of your hand. Frankie’s grip only loosens enough to let you sit up, arms still engulfing your frame, tight enough to make sure you don’t float away on him again. 

“I- I’m s-sorry.” 

It’s so soft as it leaves your lips, if he wasn’t waiting on your every word, Frankie just might have missed it. Little do you know, he’s hanging on your every breath. 

“Hey,” he pauses, your eyes locking with his, softly pouting at the way your panic has made your face red and puffy, carefully swiping his thumb across your cheek to catch the wetness still streaming down the corners of your eyes, “you have nothing to apologize about, okay?” 

He waits in the silence again, letting you softly nod your head in agreement, watching the gears turn in your head as you process everything that’s just happened. You’ve come to enough to notice the way his hand still sits on the small of your back- he’s just as surprised as you when you let him keep it there for another moment before subtly shifting back in your seat. 

Your face scrunches shut, wincing with the last few deep breaths you take, like you're trying to push the rest of it out of your system for good. Frankie runs his hand through his messy hair and down the nape of his neck as he takes you in, still riding his melancholy high of the weight of your body pressed into his. 

“Thank you. For um- just, t-thank you.” You mutter, too sheepish to look him in the eye again now that full blown embarrassment has set in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” 

Frankie nods, trying his best to let you know that he means it- really, truly means it. It’s the way he won’t take his eyes off you that must let you know he understands, watching you shift just enough in your seat for him to notice how your body turns ever so slightly to face him. 

“They’ve uh- fuck, it just comes out of nowhere sometimes. It’s um- it’s happened before, but these past few weeks, it just- it’s been a lot, I guess.”  

“It’s been a while since I’ve had one, but I um- I got ‘em all the time after I came home. Feels like you’re dying. It sucks.” 

It’s not graceful, but it’s genuine. Vulnerable. Honest. Frankie knows it’s the most truth he’s given you in more years than he’d like to admit. It’s not much, but it’s enough to see you scale the top of the wall you’ve built between you and him and kick down one of the bricks that’s holding it together. It’s not much, but it’s one less brick than that wall has had for a very, very long time. 

“What are you talking about? That was so much fun.” 

In the shared moment of soft, sympathetic laughter, it’s that he realizes the softest smile that’s stretched in the corner of your lips. Frankie tries not to stare, but when he sees it, he remembers how much he’s hated living without it. He takes it in for as long as he can, memorizing every crease and crinkle in your face, no matter how subtle. He’ll soak in every second he can. He’s thankful he does, because it’s only a matter of time before it starts to shift, corners of your cheeks shifting as you pick at the skin around your nails. 

“I- um- I’m sorry- a-about what I said earlier.  I- I didn’t mean it.” 

Frankie lets out a huff of confusion, convinced you must be playing a joke on him with your unprompted apology. He’s almost tempted to laugh again, but the way your jaw shifts back and forth, anxiously grinding on your teeth while your eyes stay peeled to the fingers working away at your skin reminds him of every other apology you’ve ever offered. The same look when you accidentally popped the brand new basketball he got for his 13th birthday, the same fidgeting of your fingers when overreacted to the dent you thought he put in your brand new car backing out of your driveway, the same tick of your jaw when you had told him why you hadn’t written him more while he overseas on his last tour of duty. 

You really do mean it. 

“It’s okay. I deserve it.” Frankie admits. As hurtful as it was, he knows you weren’t completely unjustified in what you said. He also knows if you’re offering him an olive branch, he’ll offer you nothing short of a whole olive tree back. 

“No- well, I mean, maybe a little-” your sarcastic self correction makes him laugh again, something long forgotten warming in his heart at the way your hidden grin reappears in the corners of your cheeks, “No- I just- that was shitty of me to say. I’m sorry. It’s- it’s just a lot right now. Not totally fair to take it all out on you.” 

“I know. It’s okay.” Frankie pauses, captivated by the way your eyes flicker up to meet his, still wet and sparkling from the last of your tears, shimmering in the warm glow of the streetlights. He wants to reach out, to grab you, hold you, press you against his chest again and tell you that everything will be okay, but he won’t risk burning the bridge of the progress he’s built. Not yet. The best he can do is keep building, nail by nail, plank by plank. 

“If you um- if you ever need someone to- to talk to, or whatever, I’m always-” 

“I know.” 

There’s a different kind of silence that fills the empty spaces of his truck the last ten minutes of the ride home. It’s no longer heavy, burdened by pain and fear with every breath that enters its void. It’s the quiet kind of reassurance that doesn’t need any words. The kind that says everything it needs to from stolen glances back and forth, accompanied by the warmth of pink cheeks hidden in the black of the night sky. 

The last thing that’s said after he’s pulled into your driveway is a simple “thank you”. It’s only two words, but something about those 8 letters put together seems like enough to fill a book with how much it says. 

The only thing that says more is the way you look over your shoulder when you make it to your porch, so brief that if he wasn’t looking for it, he surely would have missed it. 

Because in that moment you look back at him, he swears there’s a smile straining against the line of your lips that you’re trying desperately to fight. 

Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe he’s truly lost his mind. Maybe he’s crazy. Whatever he may be, Frankie Morales knows he won’t sleep a wink tonight at the thought that he’s finally the reason for the smile on your face again. 

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[purplesurveys]

1796

List 5 things that have happened in the last 7 days. (They can be anything at all, anything that’s happened involving you, or your family, friends, partner) 1. I saw Seventeen in concert and had a very great time! 2. I cried the hardest over work this week alone than the three years I've been in my workplace. 3. I told Trina I was pretty much 80% out the door. 4. I dropped off my dad at the airport last Friday. 5. I tried out a food truck that recently popped up near my office. 6. I damaged my shoelaces doing the Aju Nice bit at the Seventeen concert. 7. Our CEO has sent me over her, like, third token in the span of a month which I am now sensing is her way of saying "I know you're thinking of resigning, but please don't" and it's starting to piss me off because please don't think you can convince me otherwise with gifts.

If you found out your ex had a new partner, would you be upset? No.

How many friends do you have, whose name begins with G? I'm not sure there's one.

Do you like anyone atm? What if you found out that someone else liked them too? I don't like anyone.

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? Sure.

Have you ever had sex on your bedroom floor? How about your living room floor? Yeah.

Where is one place you’ve thought about having sex, that might be considered unusual? I don't really fantasize about having sex in certain places.

Have you ever received a compliment about any of the clothes you’re wearing? Yes, people have said they like this purple knitted cardigan I have :)

When you kiss someone, do you like to play with their hair? Sure. It depends on the mood, but generally yeah.

Why did you hug the last person you hugged? Because I never expected to bump into Ruthie at the NLEX stopover hahaha. There were a million other places she could've been at before the concert but she just so happened to be at the exact same Starbucks I was at. We couldn't help but laugh.

Do you ever find it difficult to put your thoughts/feelings into words? I've never had a problem if I just had to write them out. Writing has always been my safe space. Saying feelings out loud is a different ball game, though – I'll sometimes end up tongue-tied.

Have you ever loved a song to begin with, but then you listened to it so many times that you ended up getting sick of it? Sure.

Time for some questions about you and your significant other/crush. What is something you like, that he/she doesn’t like? I don't have one. Sorry to those who are lifting this survey off of me but I'm gonna be striking out the rest of the SO questions lol.

What is something he/she likes, that you don’t like?

Something you both like?

Something you both dislike?

Do you regret sleeping with anyone? No.

Did anyone comfort you the last time you cried? What was your reason for crying? No, I was driving alone. I always cry alone, too. If anything I'll message someone while crying, but I prefer to keep that distance. I don't want to be seen crying.

Reason was work, and because I was thinking about my dad's comforting messages to me about having to leave and how no job is worth crying over.

What if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? What’s the weirdest dream you can ever recall having? I get weird dreams all the time, but I also always forget them.

Is there anyone that likes you, other than the person you love/like/are with?

Did you wake up in someone’s arms this morning? No.

What was the last thing you spilled on yourself? Water.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? Less than a year.

Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? Nopes.

Have you ever lied to the person you love/like?

Who is the 9th contact in your phone? Have you ever hugged/kissed that person? Bea. I don't think I've even hugged her. She's not the type and I've always respected that hahaha.

Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Sure? I mean it doesn't have to mean anything heavy; my mom tells me this all the time only because she can't figure out how to do something on her phone LOL

If the last person you kissed told you they loved you, would you believe them? No.

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? I felt miserable and thought about how long I can still take this.

Do you still tell your parents that you love them? My dad, yes.

Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with? Yes, because you can say this to friends too. Random fact about the person you love/like?

Have your parents ever disapproved of anyone you had a relationship with? No.

Anything else you would like to say, to finish? No.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Drabble challenge 110: You passed out for like an hour

Sorry for the late response. The fic got a little away from me, so instead of a drabble it's like 1483 words. Here it is on ao3, or you can read it under the cut

Daniel stands on the balcony, elbows up on the railing while he has a cigarette.  He’s staying at The Signature at MGM Grand in Las Vegas.  After surviving the interview and going home to write the book, he found a million dollars had been wired to his checking account.  Probably Louis.  Blood money, but what does that matter?  He wrote the book.  Now, he’s taking a vacation.  

The glass door to the balcony slides open and Armand wanders out in bare feet, wearing Daniel’s old sweatpants and the bed sheet wrapped around him.  He’s as graceful as always in the way he moves, but his eyes are hazy and unfocused.  His hair is a disheveled mess and there are dried up red tear streaks on his face.  He comes to stand wordlessly next to Daniel and plucks the cigarette from his hand.  Armands takes a long draw from the cigarette then tips back his head and exhales the smoke.

Normally, Daniel would be irritated at the gesture.  But then, nearly everything about Armand irritates him.  The asshole started following him around after Dubai.  At first, he told him to fuck off, but that hardly deterred Armand.  Sometimes Armand showing up meant nothing more than a conversation.  Sometimes those conversations turned into sparring matches, like a game.  Others, they turned into downright fights and both were equally vicious.  No matter what was said, it never failed that in a few days Armand would show up again.

Daniel isn’t exactly sure why they started fucking.  

They had been fighting; Daniel doesn’t even remember why, except it was over something stupid and inane.  Then Armand had been in his space, and Daniel had instinctively taken a step back, only to find himself pressed along the wall with Armand nearly, but not quite touching him.  Both had been panting from the fight, Daniel so angry his body felt flush with it.  Armand’s eyes had slid down to his throat, and quickly snapped back up to meet his eyes.  His pupils were blown wide, and there was a near tangible moment of silence while they merely locked eyes with each other.

It felt heavy, something palpable in the air, like an electric buzz that drowned out all noise except the heavy hammering of his heart.  And then suddenly Armand was kissing him and it was like being struck by lightning.  They fucked like they were trying to devour the other.  (Even if Daniel had told Armand no biting was allowed.  Armand hasn’t tested him on the subject, not yet, anyway.)

“You good there?” Daniel asks as Armand passes back the cigarette.  Armand has this sort of floaty quality about him, and his eyes are unfocused and distant.  It’s not necessarily bad; he seems relaxed, certainly more at ease than when he arrived earlier.  

He had been especially high strung this evening–so much so he reminded Daniel of when his youngest daughter had been going through her bratty phrase.  Being difficult for the sake of being difficult.  Usually, it just meant she was looking for attention.  

So Daniel had sat down in the chair next to the bed, and mustered up all the authority he could and used it to say Armand’s name.  He was sure to keep it gentle, calm.  No anger, even if he was a little pissed off.  Armand had stopped speaking and blinked at him, something akin to surprise on his face.  

“I want to try something different tonight,” Daniel said.  It was a thought that had been bubbling for a while, something he wasn’t sure he wanted to touch, given Armand’s past.  But Armand had seemed like he needed to get out of his own head.  “And if you don’t like it, we’ll stop.  But you’re gonna have to let me know; I can’t read your mind.”

Armand’s gaze had turned sharp and suspicious, and Daniel could feel the fishhook in his brain.  That was fine; he imagined what he wanted to do to Armand, how he wanted to make him feel.  He laid bare his desires for Armand to see; to choose whether he wanted to indulge them or not.  

After a quiet moment, Armand had given a jerky nod.  Daniel had instructed him to take his clothes off and lie face down on the bed.  He’d used his sleeping mask as a blindfold, and the belt from his hotel bathrobe to bind Aramand’s wrists together and to the headboard.  Then he had gotten out the toy he bought for himself, but hadn’t gathered the courage to yet try.  

It was a buttplug, one end meant to be inserted anally, curved just right to hit the prostate.  The other end pressed against the perineum.  There was a remote to control the vibrations of each end.  Daniel had considered sitting in the chair and controlling the device from there, but it seemed cold.  Besides, he wanted his hands on Armand.  

He’d spent ages playing with the different speeds and rhythms, letting his hands slide over Armand’s body.  Tweaking his nipples, nibbling the curve of his ear, sucking marks that faded as soon as they were born into his neck and along the curve of his shoulder.  Daniel milked Armand’s prostate until he was a shuddering mess.  Orgasm after orgasm had wracked him, leaving him a near incoherent mess.  

Daniel had been tempted to test the limit; just how many orgasms could a vampire have?  But by that point, Armand had already shaken through his fourth orgasm and was babbling in some foreign language with tears streaking from beneath the sleep-mask.  His voice slurred when he said Daniel’s name, but he said it like it was something holy.  

After that, Daniel couldn’t wait any longer.  He pulled out the plug and Armand had practically sobbed.  Such a heart-breaking sound that Daniel couldn’t help but mutter some soothing nonsense about how well he was doing, how gorgeous he looked like this, how desperate he was to have him.  The sound Armand made when he slid inside him is etched into Daniel’s brain, a permanent addition to his spank-bank.  

Neither had lasted long; Armand seemed barely able to move and the second Daniel had wrapped a hand around his cock he had started chanting Daniel’s name like a holy rite.  He only lasted about seven strokes before spilling over Daniel’s hand with a wet gasp, Daniel following right behind him.  

It’s been over an hour since Daniel unbound and cleaned up Armand.  Who lied there the entire time with his face buried in the pillow with his arms under it.  He was asleep by the time Daniel returned from cleaning and putting away the toy.  Daniel decided to let him sleep, and threw on his boxers and his old UC Berkeley sweatshirt and went to the balcony to smoke.  

He’s smoked three cigarettes since then, and Armand has only just now come out.  And hasn’t yet answered Daniel’s question.  “Armand?  You okay?”

Armand turns to face him, eyes becoming more focused.  “Yes, Daniel.  Why wouldn’t I be?”

That haughty, indifferent tone would be a lot less funny, if Armand hadn’t been mewling like a kitten earlier.  And didn’t have the worst case of sexhair Daniel has seen since his honeymoon with his second wife.  Daniel bites back the laugh, but he can’t help feeling a little bit smug.  

“You passed out for like, an hour,” he says and watches Armand’s face for any reaction.  

“Did I?” Armand sounds almost bored.  As if Daniel hadn’t practically melted him into a puddle of goo.  

Instead of annoying him, something about it is endearing.  Daniel feels a rush of something, some dizzying emotion he can’t quite place.  He feels almost fond of Armand.  “Yeah, you little shit.”

Armand doesn’t respond to the name calling, but Daniel thinks he sees his mouth twitch up at the corner a little, like he wants to smile.  It feels nice.  Nice like back in sixth grade, when Becky Rothenberg had kissed him on the cheek after he told off the kid that was bullying her and had reduced him to tears.  Nice like the first time Alice had bit her lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes and asked if he wanted to come in for a cup of coffee.  Nice like…

Fuck.

Oh, he is so fucked.  

“Come along, Daniel,” Armand says as he strolls back into the hotel room, not looking at Daniel at all. “I’d like to take a shower, but I want you to fuck me again first.”

Daniel gapes at him.  Surely, after five orgasms the devil is satisfied.  

Armand turns and tilts his head to the side, arches a brow.  “That is, if you can get it up again.  I know it’s a struggle for men your age.”

“Fuck you,” Daniel says, and follows Armand inside, already shedding clothes along the way, “Challenge fucking accepted.”

[mirobami]

Hey hey! Could I get Kirari, midari, Yumeko, and sayaka hcs for a reader who is just like…insanely chill. Like they could be very close to debt in a gamble and is just like “niceeeee dude, I might lose lmao” they aren’t bad at gambling it’s just they like the games and don’t care for winning or losing and is like a great sport. Yk like “sickkk dude…” “it’s not a big deal…” “take a chill pill…”

↳ insanely chill s/o

♥ GENRE: fluff

♥ CHARACTER(S): k. momobami, m. ikishima, y. jabami, s. igarashi

♥ SYNOPSIS: in request!

♥ NOTE: ITST HE LAST FEW LINES THAT ABSOLUTELY GOT ME I WAS LOSINH IT I LOVE THIS PROMPT SO MUCH ITS SO FUNNY LETS GET TO IT

━ KIRARI MOMOBAMI ;  

She doesn’t know if you’ve gone insane from the school itself or if that’s how you normally are, but when she hears about you, she’s laughing a lot

You’re really not a bad gambler, it’s just the fact that you’re not here to win or lose, you’re just here for the sport

The one time she goes and watches you play is when you’re going against a student council member, which causes a stirring in the school

They’re all talking about how there can be bets made as to who is going to win or lose and she personally takes a risk mentally of choosing you

Unlike what she thought, you were exceedingly calm and even put down your cards and openly said, “Mannnnnn, you’re going to win this round, good for you, dude.”

Your opponent just sat there like ??? What just happened ???

Kirari was the one trying to stifle her laughter, because you just confused a student council member, something that was rare and hardly happened

She’s definitely going to try and see if you will join the council or at the very least, be in a place where she can watch you

━ MIDARI IKISHIMA ;

On one hand, you piss her off slightly but on the other, you’re hilarious and she wants to see if she can get you to gamble with her 

She does take you to her underground dungeon where she proposes a game with you and you’re immediately like, “That’s rad, bro, let’s get started.”

But the entire time, instead of you going all sadistic on her, you’re just chill about it; your whole life is on the line and all you can say is, “It’s not that bad, my broski, relax.”

Midari just wants you to do something that excites her but you’re the last person she should’ve gone to because you are so calm, it’s scary

It also completely throws her off guard to where she’s going hysterical with happiness when it’s your turn to put bullets into a gun that she had used as part of the game. Instead of saying something, you just say, “It’s not a big deal, take a chill pill~”

Midari is on this thin line where she doesn’t know if she loves you or hates you, but you did give her an interesting game where she was thrown off guard 

━ JABAMI YUMEKO ;

Oh, she definitely loves you and thinks you’re cool and funny

She’s the kind of person that’s calm during a gamble, but not as calm as you and definitely does not have the same remarks 

You’ve gone against Mary, that’s how she knows you and while Mary did try to shake you up, all you did was shrug and say, “Dude, you’re so good at this game, I’m very much impressed, wowwwwwwww-”

Yumeko is laughing softly in the back because Mary’s face is so funny and you’re just sitting there like nothing’s wrong

The day she asks to gamble with you is the day that she’s definitely going to be amused

She doesn’t care about the outcome, what she does care about is how you handle yourself because she doesn’t want someone that’s completely different than who she wanted to play against

She does insert you in her friend group because she really wants to hang around you more

━ SAYAKA IGARASHI ;

She’s actually losing her mind and braincells because of you

You! Are about! To go! Into life-crushing! Debt!

But NO, instead, you’re sitting there like, “Niceeeee bro I’m gonna lose by the way, just letting you know,” AS IF YOU AREN’T LITERALLY LOSING BY MILLIONS OF DOLLARS

You remind her of those surfer dudes on tv, BUT YOU ARE IN A GAMBLE PLEASE GET IT TOGETHER

However, you're very popular because you make people laugh and you're extraordinarily chill for someone that's stuck amongst a bunch of insane people

The president has given her specific instructions for her to go see you and she swears that she either got an enlightening experience or she truly has lost her mind due to you

She would never gamble with you, people like you are dangerous yet she can’t really hide herself from you

You’re too interesting to her and she can’t wait to see what you come up with next

[marauders-venting]

Pardon My French

pairing: wolfstar (sirius x remus)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 3556

note: thank you to @ probably_wizardingworld_artist on instagram for helping me translate things into french. also i got some of the lines that sirius says from this website https://www.fluentu.com/blog/french/french-pick-up-lines/

a/n: if you dont speak french (like me) dont look up a translation! everything will be clear by the end of the fic and its more fun if you find out along with remus. i mean, i cant really stop you if you want to translate the sentences but thats just my advice :)

Remus was sitting in the library, a French to English dictionary open on his lap, sighing in frustration as he flipped through the pages. For the past couple of weeks, Sirius had taken to murmuring things in French under his breath and it drove Remus crazy that he didn’t know what they meant. He had asked Sirius on several occasions but Sirius always refused to tell him. But the fact that he didn’t understand the words wasn’t the only reason it drove him crazy when Sirius spoke French. It’s not Remus’ fault that Sirius sounds really hot when his lips curve around the words in “the language of love”.

Remus tries not to think about it but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult because every time they’re alone together Sirius seems to find something to say in French (if only to piss Remus off).

The last time Sirius had said something in French to him had been last weekend. It was the first sunny weekend since the winter and Marlene had suggested that they all go down to the lake for a swim.

Remus’ brain could barely form a single coherent thought from the moment Sirius took off his shirt; he was too busy trying not to stare. He remembered jumping into the lake and trying to get warm by swimming to the far side, away from all his friends. Sirius had followed him to make sure he was okay.

“I’m fine,” he had said, smiling slightly at Sirius. “Just cold.”

“Oh okay,” Sirius said, looking relieved. He had glanced back at their friends before whispering, “On devrait t’arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique” and submerging his head in the water and swimming back to James, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary and Alice. Remus had felt a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Then there was the time that Sirius had skipped Quidditch practice to visit Remus in the hospital wing after a particularly bad full moon. James, being the captain, had been able to delay the practice so that he and Peter could come to visit as well but they had to practice for the game the following day. James had to be at the practice because he was the captain and Peter had to be there because they didn’t have another Keeper to fill in. But James had given Sirius permission to stay with Remus (which showed just how terrible he felt that he couldn’t stay as well). They watched a bit of the practice from the hospital wing but Remus was getting frustrated, having to stay in a hospital bed for so long. So, after clearing it with Madam Pomfrey, Sirius helped Remus climb all the way to the Astronomy Tower. They sat up there watching the sunset when Sirius said, “Il y a tellement de soleil dans tes yeux que je bronze quand tu me regardes.”

“Ugh, do you make it your life goal to patronize me?” Remus had said.

“Of course, Moony, what else would I live for?”

“Are you ever going to stop doing that?” he asked.

“Probably not,” Sirius had replied, grinning at him. “It’s too much fun.”

“Why do you even bother?” Remus said. “You know I don’t understand a single word of what you’re saying. Why don’t you go talk to someone who speaks French?”

“Because then they’d know what I was saying,” Sirius replied simply. He had refused to answer any more of his questions.

Remus had needed to spend that night in the hospital wing again. All night, Sirius’ voice rang through his head but every time he tried to make something coherent of it, actually words or letters or even sounds, he couldn’t. He could never remember what Sirius had said long enough to actually look it up or ask anyone.

But lately, Remus had noticed that Sirius had been repeating the same sentence in French practically every day. He recognises the sound of the words in Sirius’ mouth.

So today, Remus waited until he was alone with Sirius, waited for Sirius to say what Remus knew he would. And when he did Remus repeated the words in his head a million times until he remembered them. And now Remus was in the library and looking up the words in a dictionary. 

He knew that he could’ve gone to Lily and asked her to translate it for him but he didn’t want to. He knows it’s stupid but he feels like this is something that Sirius is saying to him and only to him. Remus had never heard Sirius whisper in French to anyone else. And as much as Remus pretended to be annoyed by it, he actually liked that he had this with Sirius. He liked that they had something that was just their own. And even though it was probably nothing, he didn’t want to share it with Lily right now.

Chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi. That was the sentence. Remus looked up each word individually and came to the conclusion that he must have heard wrong or maybe the words were spelt differently to how they were pronounced. Because there was no way in hell that Sirius had said these words to him. It was impossible. Right? Remus didn’t know. And he knew that the only way he could be sure was by asking Lily. He had asked Sirius a million times to no avail. And he needs to know what Sirius has been saying to him, especially now that there’s a chance… No, Remus tells himself, you just translated wrong. Don’t get your hopes up. So Remus gives in. He’d rather ask Lily and find out what Sirius has been saying to him every day for the last month than keep this to himself without even understanding it.

“Hey Lily,” he started, getting her attention. Remus had waited until the two of them were alone, just in case he had translated right. Which he hadn’t. He knows he translated it wrong. But he’d still rather nobody knew about it. “What does ‘chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi’ mean?” He fumbled across the words a bit, hearing how terrible his pronunciation was. Lily looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

“Where on earth did you hear that sentence?” she asked.

“I read it somewhere,” Remus lied easily. “So what does it mean?”

“It means ‘every day, I fall more in love with you.’” Remus’ jaw dropped open. “Remus, who told you they’re in love with you?”

“What? Nobody! What makes you think someone said that to me?”

“You said that you read that sentence somewhere but if you had read it, you would have no idea how to pronounce it. Besides the look on your face when I told you what it means is more than enough. So who was it?”

“None of your business,” he said. “But y–you’re kidding, right? That’s not actually what it means. Right?”

“No, I’m not kidding, Rem. That’s what it means,” she replied, laughing at the look on his face. “Come on, tell me who it was.”

“No fucking way,” Remus said. “Besides, they’re probably joking. I mean… no, they’re definitely joking.” Lily shrugged.

“Just ask them,” she said. “And then you have to tell me who your secret admirer is.” She poked him in the side.

“Stooooop,” he said, jumping away from her and laughing against his will. “I’m going.” He got up and started walking away.

“Have fun with your mystery lover,” she called after him without looking back. Remus rolled his eyes but his mind was racing. So apparently he hadn’t been wrong. That was what Sirius had said to him. What does this even mean? He’s teasing you, said a voice in his head, like always. Sirius doesn’t love you. Not like that. But he said he does. Don’t be stupid. Sirius isn’t in love with you. He’s joking. Like always.

The next time Sirius said it, they were in the Room of Requirement. Sirius had ambushed Remus in the middle of his prefect rounds with Lily levitating a cardboard box in midair. Typical. He had practically given Remus a heart attack by interrupting his conversation with Lily, leaving Remus to wonder just how much of the conversation he had overheard.

“So have you talked to your mystery French lover yet?” Lily had teased. Remus groaned.

“No, I haven’t,” he said. “And I probably won’t.”

“Why not?” Lily demanded. “They’re being very romantic, Remus, you should at least appreciate their effort.”

“I’d appreciate it more if they’d just tell me what the fuck they want instead of sending me coded messages that they know I don’t understand,” Remus grumbled.

“Moonyyyyy,” Sirius said, coming up from behind him. Remus jumped, turning around, heart racing in his chest.

“Sirius? What are you doing here?” he asked. “You know it’s after hours, right?” Sirius snorted.

“Yes, Remus, I am fully aware of the fact that I’m breaking a school rule,” he said, smirking.

“Are you aware that technically Remus and I have to turn you in?” Lily said.

“Ah, but do you really plan on doing that, Evans?” Sirius asked.

“That depends,” she replied. “Why are you here?”

“Right,” Sirius remembered, then he turned to Remus. “James forgot to put this box with the rest of the stuff for tomorrow so I said I’d take it. And you’re coming with me.”

“Remind me why again?” Remus said.

“Moony, come on, don’t make me go alone. I’ll be lonely,” Sirius pouted.

“You are insufferable, did you know that?”

“And yet, you’ve tolerated me for 6 years now.”

“Yeah, the keyword there is ‘tolerated’,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “Lils…” he started, turning to her.

“Nope,” she said before he could even ask. “No way. You are not leaving me to do these rounds alone because then I’ll die of boredom. So unless you want me to tell McGonagall that your planning something for tomorrow, you’re going to finish this floor with me and then I’ll go back to the common room and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Evans…” Sirius pouted.

“Nope, that’s non-negotiable, Black. Also, do I want to ask?” She gestured to the hovering box.

“The less you know, the better,” he said. “Although, I would avoid the classrooms near the dungeons tomorrow if I were you.” She nodded and Remus thought he saw her smile slightly for a second.

“You go on, I’ll catch up,” he said to Sirius, knowing that Lily’s mind would not be changed. He couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have let her leave him to finish this chore alone either. She was right, it was painstakingly boring. Which is why he would much rather be with Sirius. But it was only fair that he finished tonight’s rounds with her; she did cover for him around the full moon, after all.

Sirius pouted but knew better than to argue and turned to go to the Room of Requirement. Remus watched him and he disappeared up a flight of stairs. Only then did he notice Lily was smirking at him.

“What?” he asked, sounding a bit defensive.

“So Sirius is your secret French admirer?” she said.

“W–What?” he spluttered. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, for one, the look on your face when he showed up right behind us while we were talking about your mystery lover,” Lily said. “It was the look people make when you’ve just been talking about someone and then they show up and you’re worried that they may have overheard you.”

“That… is a very specific look,” Remus said, avoiding the question she was asking.

“Then you smiled at him when you called him insufferable,” she said.

“So?”

“So it was one of those I’m-smiling-at-you-while-I’m-teasing-you-cause-I’m-secretly-in-love-with-you smiles.”

“Again, that's a very specific expression,” he said.

“Look, I know you like him, so will you just admit it already?”

“Why? What good would that information do you? It’s for me to worry about and for Sirius to never discover, ever.”

“Remus, you’re kidding, right?” she said. “Sirius literally told you that he loves you, in French no less.”

“Exactly, Lily. In French. If he actually meant it, why would he say it in a language that he knows I don’t understand? He just knew that I would look it up and he wanted to make some joke.”

“I really don’t think so, Remus,” Lily said, shaking her head. “I think he really loves you.”

“He doesn’t,” Remus said. “He can’t. Not like that.”

“Remus, do you love him?” she asked. Remus closed his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I love him.”

“So why are you doing this to yourself? Just ask him what he meant when he said it. You don’t even have to tell him anything, just ask him what he meant.”

“But… what if he says it was a joke?”

“First of all, I don’t think he will,” Lily said. “But if he does, that’s what you’re expecting, isn’t it? It won’t be a surprise or anything.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Remus sighed and looked away from her. “I don’t think I’m ready to hear him say it. To be properly rejected.”

“Oh, Rem,” she said. They had reached the end of the corridor and Lily stopped to hug him. “Obviously I’m not going to make you do anything. You know what I think. Go find Sirius now, he’ll be waiting for you. Do what you think is right.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, hugging her back. “Yeah, okay.” So Lily went in the direction of the common room and Remus went to the Room of Requirement.

He found Sirius sitting with his back against the wall, the box beside him.

“You’re an idiot,” Remus told him, trying to put the conversation with Lily out of his mind. “You’re practically begging to get caught.” Sirius shrugged.

“I was waiting for you,” he said. “Come on, let’s go in.” They paced back and forth in front of the wall three times. We need a place to hide our things, Remus thought. A door appeared and Sirius opened it, leading the box in with his wand. They had been here before to hide loads of things. The room was pretty cluttered from years of students dumping their things in it but they knew where exactly to hide the box so that they’d be able to find it tomorrow when they needed it. Remus followed Sirius through aisles upon aisles of junk, looking at all the broken, discarded things people threw in here.

They found the corner where they’d left everything else and Sirius added the box to the rest of the pile.

“Are we done here?” Remus asked.

“Yep, we can leave now,” Sirius said. They had started walking back towards the door when Remus heard Sirius say it from behind him.

“Chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi.” Remus turns to him and stops him in his tracks.

“Pads, why do you keep saying that? Who are you talking to?”

“Remus, you are aware that you’re the only one here right? I’m talking to you.”

“Then why… why are you—?”

“I know, I know, you don’t understand French,” Sirius says. “That’s why it's fun. It’s amusing to know something that you don’t, for once.”

“Sirius… I know what that sentence means,” Remus says quietly. Sirius’ neck snaps up.

“What?”

“I know what that sentence means,” Remus repeats.

“No, you don’t,” Sirius says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I do. I asked Lily after the last time you said it. She translated for me.”

“Fuck, I didn’t know Lily could speak French,” Sirius says, rubbing a hand over his face. “So… so this whole time you’ve known what I’m saying? So you know that I… you know that I… oh god, Remus I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to… I was just…” Sirius starts to back away, shaking his head and looking anywhere but at Remus. Remus reaches out and grabs his hand.

“Don’t go,” Remus says. “Sirius. Is it a joke? Are you making a joke? Actually, no, don’t tell me. Cause if it’s a joke I’d rather you bury me under all the crap in this room and spare me the pain.”

“What?”

“It’s not a joke, is it?” Remus asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

“No,” Sirius said, softly. “It’s not a joke. I’m sorry, Remus, I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” Remus said, pressing a finger to Sirius’ lips. “Sirius,” Remus tucked Sirius’ hair behind his ear. Remus was vaguely aware of Sirius stepping towards him, towards his touch. “I love you, too.” Sirius gapes at him

“Really?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Remus says. He’s still holding Sirius’ hand. He pulls Sirius closer and lets his other hand graze Sirius’ cheek.

“Puis-je t'embrasser?” Sirius whispers.

“Pads, I… I don’t know what that means.” Sirius lets out a small laugh and looks down at the floor. Then he looks back up at Remus, his grey eyes glistening in the last sliver of sunlight. He’s biting his lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Remus says, without thinking. He feels the blush blooming on his cheeks but Sirius is already kissing him, rising on his tip-toes to make his lips reach Remus’. Remus feels electric currents dancing around his body, unable to contain the excitement. He’s kissing Sirius. Sirius is kissing him back. Sirius loves him. Sirius loves him in the same way that he loves Sirius. Sirius is snaking his hands around Remus’ waist pulling him closer. Sirius’ hair is soft, tangled between his fingers. Sirius is here, in his arms, and it’s everything Remus has been wanting and more.

“Wait, so now can you tell me everything you’ve been saying in French the whole time?” They’re sitting in the same large armchair, hands still linked together, legs tucked against their chests, knees and thighs and hips pressed together. Remus is very aware of every point where his skin is making contact with Sirius’. He’s counting them.

They found the armchair in the Room of Requirement; it’s unclear to them whether the chair is something that’s been dumped in the room by somebody else or if the room conjured it up because they were looking for it. 

Neither one of them wants to go back to the common room yet. Remus doesn’t want to see Lily’s smirk and to have to admit she was right at the moment. He’ll do that tomorrow. Right now, all he wants is to be with Sirius. To press little kisses to his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips just because he can.

“Oh god,” Sirius says, burying his face in between Remus’ shoulder and the back of the armchair. “It’s like you want me to embarrass myself.”

“This surprises you?” Remus kisses the corner of his mouth. Then his jaw. Then his neck. Just because he can. “Please.”

“Ah fine,” Sirius gives in. “Um, what do you want to know?”

“What did you say that day at the lake?” Remus asks.

“Oh that. I said, ‘on devrait t’arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique’. It means uh… ugh, you’re going to laugh at me for this. It means ‘you should be arrested for excessive beauty in public’,” Sirius said, blushing. Remus rolled his eyes but he felt his cheeks heat too. He smiles a little.

“What about that day on the Astronomy Tower?” he continues.

“Ugh,” Sirius buries his face in his hands. “You’re trying to kill me. I said, ‘il y a tellement de soleil dans tes yeux que je bronze quand tu me regardes’. Which means, uh… ‘there’s so much sun in your eyes that I get a tan when you look at me.’”

“You’re quite the poet, aren’t you?” Remus smiles. “And what about tonight?”

“I thought you said you knew what that meant,” Sirius says. “Or were you bluffing the whole time?”

“No, I know what it means,” Remus says. “I just want to hear you say it. In English this time, please.”

“So demanding,” Sirius teases. “I’ve said it in French a million times already and you want me to say it in English? What difference does it make?”

“Well, none to you, you speak both languages.”

“Oh, alright,” Sirius says. It’s the first time Remus has seen his face really go red. He decides he likes it. “Every day I fall more in love with you.” Remus can’t hide his smile, nor does he want to, as he leans in to kiss Sirius. He brushes his lips against Sirius’ timidly before connecting them, his hand caressing Sirius’ cheek. Remus loses count of the points of contact between him and Sirius as their bodies melt together and Remus worries that he’s about to wake up from a dream. But when he feels Sirius’ hand gently tracing the scars on his hand he knows that this is real, that Sirius can really love him. Sirius does love him.

People come to the Room of Requirement to throw things away, to hide things that they don’t want anybody else to know about, to leave things they never want to see again. But that night, Remus didn’t just leave something in the Room of Requirement. He found something, too.

[tbznewberry]

I know you’re a yandere | Kim Seokjin [2]

It’s your second chance to get away from your yandere, will it work this time or will he once again outsmart you?

Genre: Yandere, horror?

Warnings: obsession, toxic relationship, manipulation, throwing up, horror themes

Part 1

The day goes on slowly and she is dreading the fact that after the clock hits six, he’ll come home and they’ll have their ‘talk’. It won’t be mutual, she knows, she has read what happens. She just doesn’t know what type of thing he will do. And that’s when she hears the click from downstairs. The door unlocks. Y/N sits up, million thoughts going through her head. She has to stay calm and be collected. No, she has to be angry and show him that she means what she says if she wants him to take her seriously! Or will that end badly?

“Hey, love”, he says as he enters and her time is out. 

“Hi”, she says quietly, looking down into her hands. 

“Haven’t you left the bed at all today?”

He starts taking off his tie and fixing his hair, not taking his eyes off the girl in the bed. 

“You locked the door”, Y/N says calmly, quietly, careful not to piss him off. “Even if I left the bed, I would have had nowhere to go.”

“I’ll go take a shower and then we’re going to talk. I didn’t like how we left it this morning. I hope you’ve been getting other thoughts and come to a conclusion, baby. I would hate to get you to quit your job.”

Oh yeah, you’d be very sad indeed, huh?

“I’ll be back soon”, Jin says and disappears into the bathroom, giving Y/N time to think everything over again. 

She realizes that the best way to outsmart Jin is to play his own game. Make him believe her. Instead of telling him that he has to agree with her, she’ll agree with him and make him believe that she thinks the same things he does. That’ll help her in escaping. If only things go right this time.

“Alright, let’s talk”, the man says as he comes out, wearing the white bathrobe that usually hangs in the bathroom. “Anything you want to say to me before we start?”

Y/N swallows her pride. Now is not the time to be petty, this is all about survival. And if she doesn’t adjust to the environment and situation … she’ll die. He'll be able to wrap his fingers about her throat and lock her airways, trap her forever.

“I’m sorry”, she says and feels how her self worth is sinking by the seconds. “I didn’t mean to do that to you. You didn’t deserve it. You are a great boyfriend. I don't know why I did that.”

She scans his face for his feelings, but can’t tell what he’s thinking … so she continues. 

“The yandere stories I read when I was a teenager must have made me … I don’t know … I’m sorry.”

“You’ll never call me that again right? And never complain about everything I do for you, right? Because you really hurt me, love.”

I hurt you? I beg to differ, ‘love’.

“I won’t.”

He breaks out into a small smile and nods, kissing her forehead.

"I'm glad we could solve this", he says and lets his hand caress her cheek. "But I'm scared for your mental health, love. That was quite the deal for you to throw at me just like that. It's not normal."

Stop, stop doing that. 

"Maybe we should do something to prevent that from happening again", he says and holds out his hand. "I know you don't read those stuff anymore, but if you ever got the urge to do it, we should make sure you can't. Give me your phone and the computer. It's best this way."

Y/N freezes. She needs the phone if she's going to escape. But she can't refuse or he'll know that she's faking. With a heavy heart and sweating palms, she gives the phone over to him.

"Good, I'm proud of you for understanding what's best for you", he smiles. "Things will get better now."

Y/N smiles back. A fake, plastered smile that holds all the hope she has left of leaving. She handled this situation better than the one this morning.

That night, Y/N carefully makes her way out of the bed. The man's arms had been lying all over her like chains, doing their best to keep her with him. She has to leave now. There's no other time and if she waits, maybe she'll be too late. She's scared of falling for his lies and becoming trapped in this house forever. She doesn't want to be his puppet. Carefully she packs her bag and leaves the room. Smallest mistake can wake him up and then it's all over.

She sneaks down to the living room, looking for her phone. She searches every drawer and cabinet until a familiar ringtone sounds through the room. 

No, no, no, quiet! He'll wake up!

Frantically, she starts searching again, finding the phone under a pillow on the couch. She's just about to click away the call when she sees the contact name. 'If you don't answer, you'll be an only child'. She gulps. This is really not good. Not daring to disobey, she answers the call and holds the phone to her ear.

"H-Hello?" she asks quietly, already knowing who's calling.

"Y/N …", a quiet, sleepy voice says. "Do you think I'm stupid? After you told me about those stupid stories, I read them myself. The 'victim' always tries to flee when the 'yandere' is asleep, so why wouldn't you try? I knew you'd try something. Come upstairs again. Let's talk. For real this time. No lies, nothing. Just the truth. Come."

She doesn't answer. Without thinking, she glances towards the front door.

"Y/N", his voice says again. "Come. Please."

She thinks back on all the stories she's read. It won't end well for her to go upstairs again. She'll probably not come downstairs again. Not alive. 

Instead, she makes a run for it to the front door and feels the handle. It doesn't surprise her that it's locked, but what surprises her is that it's not locked once, not twice … but five times. He's put up four additional locks on the door. A noise makes her turn around and see Jin at the top of the stairs, his dark eyes staring at her with a blank expression. She swears she'll get a heart attack any second. She falls down on her knees and throws up.

"Careful, Y/N, too much stress will cause your heart to stop", he says as he makes his way down the stairs.

"Don't come closer … please", she begs, holding one hand on her stomach and one towards him. 

And he stops by the end of the stairs, not saying anything.

"You're not alright, Y/N", he says monotone after a while. "You need to rest. This is not healthy."

"Stop talking", she begs and throws up once again.

"Since you didn't come upstairs to talk to me, I'll talk to you here", he sighs and sits down on the first step of the stairs. "No lies, nothing. Okay? None of us. I only have one thing to tell you."

"What?"

"Stay with me."

"I can't. You scare me."

He looks genuinely confused by her statement.

"Why?" he asks.

“Your behavior is unsettling, I can’t do it.”

She tells him everything she feels. He had said that they shouldn’t lie this time, so she isn’t. 

“I truly believe you’re a yandere, Jin”, she says in the end. “Please get help for it.”

“You really think so?” he asks, voice sounding dead. 

“Yes, I really do. Please get help, don’t make me suffer anymore.”

“If I do seek help, will you please stay with me then?”

Y/N thinks and she has a feeling this is one of his lies, one of the usual manipulations. Even though they’d promise each other to be truthful it’s not unusual for a lie to slip in. It’s as normal to him as breathing and a hard habit to get rid of. 

“No, I won’t”, she says. 

Something changes in his expression and he sighs. “Well … then I’ll have no other choice than to keep you here against your will. Until you understand that I’m doing all of this for your own good.”

Before she has time to react, he picks her up over his shoulder and walks upstairs again.

[A/N: that was it, I believe! I hope you liked it!]

[drakenology]

Arguments - feat Bakugo, Todoroki, Kirishima and Tamaki Amajiki

author’s note: i’m feeling angsty today. so this is gonna be about arguing with some of the bnha characters. anyone else feel off today? just me?

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff 🥺, and suggestive themes not full on smut. characters aged up! some of these are long.. i was feeling dramatic

headers from @annicon

Bakugo

as much as i love this man i can admit he would be SOO stubborn

would get frustrated easily

yells 🥺

he knows when to walk away when the conversation isn’t getting anywhere which is good

would NEVER hurt you (i’ve seen ppl write that this mf hits you... girl...domestic violence is not an aesthetic.)

he isn’t the best with words so it’ll take him a little while to admit he’s wrong because he can’t verbalize how sorry he is sometimes

when he does he’ll hug and kiss you and apologize like a million times after he’s done being a stubborn little prick.

gives you the best “i’m sorry “ dick imaginable holy shit

Bakugo done did it. He pissed you off. You were already having a terrible day and then you come home to this motherfucker with a bunch of people over after you told him that you weren’t in the mood for company. So for the rest of the night when everyone left, you gave him the silent treatment knowing that he HATES when you ignore him on purpose.

“Y/N?”

You say nothing, continuing scrolling through your phone to look like you were preoccupied.

“Y/N, what’s your problem? I know you hear me.” Bakugo persists.

You ignore him, turning your back to face him. He grunts and grabs your shoulder, turning you back around to face him.

“Y/N if you’re pissed at me just say that. But ignoring me is fucking immature and it’s pissing me off!” He yells. Translation: “What did I do? 🥺”

“I’M pissing YOU off!? That’s funny. Because it’s not like you didn’t completely ignore my fucking feelings tonight. Why did you invite Kirishima and Denki over after I specifically said I didn’t feel like playing fucking HOSTESS!” You shout back, throwing your phone somewhere.

“Are you serious!? I never told them to come here they just showed up. What was I supposed to do tell them to piss off!?” Katsuki asked.

“YES!” You scream, annoyed that he’s not getting the reason why you’re upset. You never minded having Bakugo’s friends over but you just wanted to have a calm night with just the two of you. You were exhausted and fixing dinner for you and 3 other people and listening to loud chatter about sports and video games was not on your to-do list.

“This is so fucking petty! I don’t get why you’re so mad that they came over.” Katsuki said shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s the problem, idiot! You don’t fucking get it! I worked all day today. I just wanted us to relax but no, you wanted to have a fucking guys night in my living room! It’s the complete disregard for my feelings that’s pissing me off not the fact that they came. I told you I was tired and you having them come over anyways was like a big fuck you to me!” You explain, your face pulled into a face Katsuki knows is your angry face. Bakugo sighs, not ready to admit that he was wrong.

“Tch. Whatever. I’m gonna go sleep on the fucking couch. Let me know when you’re done being fucking frigid.” He shouts, clearly out of anger.

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

Katsuki leaves your shared room and slammed the door, you throwing yourself onto the bed. You feel tears sting your eyes as you sob into your pillow. You hated fighting with Bakugo, and you knew he hated it too. He has a hard time expressing himself without getting defensive sometimes. But you knew he felt bad. You sigh and close your eyes and go to sleep.

The next morning you get up from bed and get ready to start your day. You shower and brush your teeth, you and Bakugo strategically avoiding each other all morning to go and do your daily routines. You didn’t utter a word to each other. Just questions and short answers.

“Got work?”

“Yup.”

“When?”

“7:30.”

The silence killed you both as you sat at the table and ate breakfast, Bakugo’s face pulled into a frown as he ate. You roll your eyes and go to put your dishes in the sink and grab his once he’s done. You can hear him get up from his chair as you wash both your plates and dry them. You had assumed he was leaving so you just wash all the rest of the dishes without turning your back. Suddenly you felt familiar arms wrap around your waist.

“Let me go.” You say, tearing up at the sudden touch. He was trying to make up with you and you were so ready to forgive him. The tension was almost too much to bear. This fight was small and it turned into something way bigger than need be.

“Not until you listen to me. I’m sorry, ok? I should have never yelled at you the way I did. And calling you frigid wasn’t ok either. I shoulda just told everyone to go home. We have those dumbasses over all the time. One night wouldn’t have killed me. I’m sorry. Can we just forget this shit ever happened? I hate it when you’re mad at me.” He pleaded, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. You smile and turn around to look at his face, cupping his cheeks in both your hands as you stand on you tip toes to kiss him. He kisses you back eagerly, happy that you and him are back on good terms. He pulled away from the heated kiss and looks at the clock on the microwave.

“6:30...we still have an hour to kill. If you’re late I’ll drop you off.” Katsuki says, his eyes turning dark with feral lust.

“Late? What are yo-“ you’re interrupted by Bakugo pulling you into your bedroom with determination to make things right.. his way.

Tamaki (🥺 my new found love)

Tamaki is NOT a confrontational person so arguing with you is really hard. He hates raising his voice or even getting to a point to where he’s angry because he doesn’t want to think about hurting you in anyway.

He’ll shut down and turn cold or try and act nonchalant.

he might even avoid conflict by changing the subject

if he’s riled up enough though he’ll cuss you out.. to his dismay

doesn’t like being mad at you and vice versa

hates arguments.. like honestly can you just get over it so he can eat you out now?

speaking of eating you out, he gives apology head and he won’t stop until you say you forgive him.

Tamaki didn’t like to admit it but he was really jealous. Like really really jealous like YANDERE type jealous. You and him were out to dinner with Mirio so you were all chatting about mindless nothing, catching up like you always do. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary for you but to Tamaki it appeared that Mirio was a little too playful at dinner with you. He was cracking jokes and poking fun and Tamaki took it as him flirting with you; which Mirio would never disrespect your relationship like that. Rage sat in the pit of Tamaki’s chest as you laugh at all his jokes. He was furious but hid it pretty well for the night.

“And then Tamaki wet himself in front of the whole class when I scared him with my quirk in middle school. Can you believe it?” Mirio laughs, causing you to laugh at the thought.

“Oh leave him alone, Togata.” You giggle, waving your hand in front of your face to stop the tears from laughter. He had been making you laugh all night all to Tamaki’s disliking. He was quiet all dinner, which you noticed immediately after Togata’s last joke.

“Hey Tamaki, is everything ok?” You ask, concerned that he might not want to be out anymore.

“Yeah.” He said coldly. “Actually I’m just gonna go to the car. I feel kinda sick.” He stands from his seat and walks to the exit, absolutely fucking furious that you were “flirting” with his childhood friend right in front of him.

“Awkward. What’s up with him?” Mirio asks, completely dumb founded by Tamaki’s sudden disappearance.

“I dunno. I’m gonna go to the car and see what’s wrong. Do you mind?” You ask, standing from your seat.

“Nah that’s cool. I’m actually gonna head out. You go on ahead, Y/N. I’ll take care of the tab.. this time.” Mirio jokes. You giggle and thank him, walking towards the exit. You walk through the parking lot and find the car, seeing Tamaki sitting in the passenger side with his arms crossed across his chest. What was his deal? You open the car door and sit in the driver’s side to meet a thick tension.

“What’s wrong Tamaki? Do you really feel sick or are you upset with me?” You ask.

“Why don’t you ask Mirio? I’m sure he’ll be able to answer since he’s the only guy you talked to all night. It was like I wasn’t even there.” Tamaki says, calm but obviously pestered.

“Is that was this is about? Tama you know it wasn’t like that. Mirio has always been a jokester what’s the difference now?” You ask, getting a little upset at his accusation.

“The difference is that he was trying to make a pass at you. He was so obviously flirting with you.” He says, his tone becoming stern. You’re shocked at how he was getting, frowning at how unreasonable he was being.

“No he wasn’t, Tamaki.” You say, looking him dead in his eyes.

“Yes he was. I’m not about to fight with you about this he was clearly fucking flirting with you. He joked with you all night and you laughed at every single thing he said. You must want to fuck him, don’t you?” He asked, looking at you with some sort of betrayal in his eyes. This infuriates you.

“What are you talking about!? You know I would never cheat on you Tamaki. Especially not with your best friend. What’s with you!?” You ask sternly, not amused or pleased in the slightest.

“Whatever, Y/N.” Tamaki says, looking out the car window while turning the other way so he’s not facing your side of the car. He knew this was stupid and he knew your loyalty was never to be questioned but he couldn’t shake this feeling of jealousy.

“No. You don’t get to start a fight and then blow me off when you’re through arguing! Talk to me!” You yell, furious at this point. Tamaki shrugs, avoiding the situation entirely now.

“Just drive. I wanna go home.” He says, not taking his eyes off the view from his window. You roll your eyes and start the car, pulling out of the parking lot to start your way home. The drive home was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You were so angry that you didn’t talk to Tamaki the whole way home, knowing you’d probably cuss him out if he said the wrong thing. Tamaki immediately felt bad after picking that fight. He didn’t know what came over him, he knew he had to make it up to you before you two go to bed angry with each other. You approach your shared apartment and park the car, silence still riddling the car. The tension between you both was intense and it scared you. You’ve never seen Tamaki this upset. Jealousy was always an issue for him but he’s never reacted this strongly.

“Y/N?” Tamaki says breaking the silence. You look at him, a little relieved that he’s talking to you again.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that to you. I know you’d never cheat on me, of course. But I was just so jealous. It felt like you and Mirio were on a date and I was just the third wheel. The thought of him taking you from me drove me crazy. I wasn’t thinking. Can you forgive me?” He says, placing his hand on top of yours on the steering wheel. You sniffle, tearing up at his apology.

“Tamaki, I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I love you so much. No one could ever take your place, not even Mirio. I’d never betray you like that, ever.” You sob, tears flowing down your face. Tamaki questioning your loyalty really hurt your feelings and he hated seeing you cry.

“I know that. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry, Y/N. It was so stupid of me to even assume.” He says, taking his hand and wiping your tears away. He took your hand and gave it a sweet kiss to soothe you, rubbing circles with his thumb on it as he consoled you. You giggle and wipe your tears, happy that you guys made up after that silly fight.

“Let’s go inside.”

Todoroki

arguments between you two get heated. It gets to a point where sometimes you don’t speak to each other for days. he’ll definitely give small reminders that he still loves you to butter you up to alleviate some of the tension.

raises his voice

just as stubborn as bakugo

to a fault of his upbringing facing his emotions was hard for him sometimes, causing him to be cold when you fight

when it’s time to get over it and make up he’ll make it a huge event; flowers, chocolates and lots of freaky apology sex

cant stand arguing with you just like tamaki but wont back down in the slightest

is sure he doesn’t say anything harsh to make the situation worse.

“Why are you being so stubborn?!” You shout at your bi-colored haired boyfriend. The two of you have been fighting all day to your surprise. Shoto was usually easy going and you two hardly fought. But today, a bug seemed to have crawled up Todoroki’s ass and he’s been picking fights all day. You’ve been arguing about small things like who left the bathroom light on or who ate the last hot pocket. Right now it was an argument about when you’re going to meet his father Endeavor. It’s been almost a year since you two have been together and you don’t even think his father knows you exist.

“For the last time Y/N we’re not going to my dad’s house. That’s final! You can argue with yourself about this. End of discussion.” Shoto says, very annoyed at the thought of being near his father. He still couldn’t stand him, even as an adult. He can’t bring himself to bring you around him because he knows how he can be. If he even says something slightly rude to you he’ll flip the fuck out. You groan in frustration, wishing he’d at least consider.

“He doesn’t know we’re together does he!? What am I to you some secret? Why did you stay with me all this time if your family doesn’t even know I exist !?” You shout, tearing up with seering anger.

“It’s not that. Of course he knows we’re together; my whole family knows! Why do you want to involve him so badly?!” Shoto yells.

“Why wouldn’t I want to meet my fucking boyfriend’s father!? You’re not making any sense.” You say, getting more and more frustrated as Shoto makes excuses.

“You know what? Fine. We’ll go meet him tomorrow. But as soon as he treats you like you’re not good enough for me don’t be surprised when I tell you I fucking told you so. God you can be so stubborn sometimes.” Shoto shouts, rolling his eyes at you.

“Oh I’M stubborn!? That’s rich coming from you. You’re being so unreasonable right now. I know you and your father-“

“YOU DONT KNOW SHIT ABOUT MY FATHER. Stop speaking on things you haven’t the first idea about!” Shoto yells, punching a nearby wall. (Oop.) You flinch, shocked at how angry he got so quickly. You tear up and run off to your bedroom, Todoroki immediately regretting getting so upset with you. He scared you and that’s something he never wanted to do to you under any circumstances. You cried yourself to sleep that night, angry that things got so heated. Why did he react like that? And why was he treating you as if you knew nothing about him and his father. He would vent to you about him all the time and you gave him advice when you could. But tonight you felt like you were nothing but an outsider. Shoto didn’t even bother coming into the room. He couldn’t face you after making you cry. Right now, he hated himself for treating you like that. He was just so afraid of his father’s judgement he didn’t want him to hurt your feelings with how crass he was. If Endeavor found the slightest thing wrong with you he’d never let you or him forget it. He could hear him now calling you unworthy of the Todoroki name. The thought alone enraged him. In his own cryptic way, he was trying to protect you from him but this was no way to do it nor did he have the right. Todoroki slept on the couch, missing your warmth against him in your bed.

The next morning the two of you drove to the Todoroki estates in silence. You were still pissed at him and Shoto didn’t want to say anything to further upset you. He was annoyed he was making this trip in the first place but he knew he had to man up for your sake. It was unfair of him to try and keep you away from his family especially since you would one day take on his name and be a part of the family when he married you. He knew he couldn’t keep you away forever, but god couldn’t he have had a little more time? He dreaded this day.

“Ready?” Shoto asks coldly, trying to hide his remorse from his tone. You nod, getting out of the car before he could walk over and open the door for you. Shoto is surprised and gets out with you, guiding you to his old home. He can’t lie, he’s so fucking nervous. What if he hates you? Not that he cares what he thinks, he’ll marry you anyway but still. He at least wants his blessing. You walk with Shoto to the main room of the home and wait for Endeavor to come downstairs. Suddenly you hear footsteps from across the room. It was him. He was tall and his aura was so dark and intimidating.

“You must be Y/N.” Endeavor says, looking down at your small frame. You nod, a wave of nervousness shooting through your body.

“N-Nice to meet you sir.” You bow respectfully.

“No need for that. Please, have a seat.” Endeavor says gesturing to the couch. You and Shoto sit down next to each other, Endeavor following suit by sitting across from you two.

“So.. how long have you two been together?” Endeavor asks, his booming voice almost sending an echo throughout the empty room. You gulp and look towards Shoto.

“10 months.” He answers for you, taking your hand to calm you. You’re still mad at him but god you’re glad he’s doing his best to ease your anxiety.

“And you just now arrange a meeting? Hm.” Endeavor questions, looking at you as if he was scanning you to find something irredeemable about you. You look down at your lap, unable to keep eye contact with the intimidating man.

“I-I wanted to meet with you sooner. Me and Shoto fought about coming here last night but I convinced him.” You say nervously.

“I see. You seem like an ok girl. Shoto has had his fair share of.. inadequate women in his life so, you’re a step up from the rest.” Endeavor says, motioning for a maid to make you all some tea. You laugh nervously, Shoto squeezing your hand in annoyance. Was that a compliment?

“You two seem like you’ve been fighting.” Endeavor says suddenly, observing both your body language. You’re both shocked as you turn to look at each other. How’d he know that?

“What’s it to you?” Shoto asks, glaring at his father.

“Oh nothing. But if you’re planning on marrying this girl it’s probably best to not argue too much with her. Hell, she might up and leave.”

Shoto looks at you, pain in his eyes. The look on his face alone said “I’m sorry.” Shoto hated to admit it but his father was right. Fighting as much as you have been, especially the fight you had last night was toxic and could take a toll on your relationship.

You smile at him and turn to Endeavor

“I’d never leave him.” You say, snuggling closer to Shoto as he blushed. He was embarrassed that he was being so vulnerable around his father but he knew that only you could make this happen.

After a long conversation with Endeavor and Shoto, you leave with a feeling that you might have won him over. You think? He was hard to read, just like Shoto. He was more like his father than he likes to admit. Shoto opens the car door for you to get inside and then walks to the drivers side to come in. You sit in the car for a while, silent until Shoto grabs you and leans over to kiss you. You kiss him back, tearing up into the kiss.

“I’m sorry, snowflake. I can’t believe I raised my voice at you like that. I was just so scared that he was gonna hate you and say something disrespectful. I should have just told you that instead of being defensive. I’m so so sorry I scared you. Please forgive me. ” He pleaded, peppering kissing on your face.

“I know. And I forgive you.” You giggle, pulling Todoroki closer to you to kiss him again.

Kirishima

Out of all the boys he’s the least stubborn when it comes to fighting. But don’t be fooled, he’ll argue you down. he’s very good at managing his temper when it comes to you.

Regrets starting a fight in the first place

Just wants to cuddle and go back to normal

But when he’s angry hooo boy

doesn’t even yell, he’s like a calm angry which is terrifying

tries talking over you, trying to plead his case

will not rest until the situation is resolved and over with so you guys can move on

like all the others... apology sex

will try not to lose his patience

You and Kirishima had been together for a while now so it was only inevitable that you two have your first fight. You were always a vigilant person and wanted to help others even though you were quirkless like Deku was at one point. Kirishima is protective of you to a fault and the thought of you getting hurt or worse didn’t sit well with him at all. You assured him that you were capable of taking care of yourself and protecting yourself but he wasn’t having any of it. You spent years perfecting your martial arts skills, training your ass off for countless hours everyday and he knew that. But he didn’t want you to one day meet your match without him there to protect you.

“Y/N, drop it. You’re not going on missions with me and that’s final. It’s too dangerous.” Eijiro said, his brows furrowed. He was trying not to lose his patience with you but you kept insisting. He just wished you’d forget about this whole thing; for your safety.

“You don’t have the right to tell me what I can and can’t do! I’m fully capable for taking care of myself and you know that.” You yell, irritated at your boyfriend underestimating your abilities. Eijiro sighs and stands up from the couch to stand in front of you, inching so close you could almost kiss.

“I’ll die before I let you go out there. Do you know what would happen to me; to your friends and family if something happened to you!? We’d be crushed. Please just drop this.” Kirishima says, wanting to avoid this conversation all together. But alas, nothing was changing your mind. You were very head strong and stubborn to no avail so you weren’t going down without a fight.

“You can’t stop me!” You yell

“Oh I can’t?” Eijiro challenged.

“No. You can’t. You can’t treat me like a child, Eijiro.” You say. “How can you say I’m not ready if you don’t give me a chance to prove I am!?”

“Because you just aren’t! Okay!? You say you’re not a child but you’re acting like one and a petulant one at that. Just drop it! God, you can be so stubborn sometimes. Don’t you see I’m just trying to keep you safe!?” Kirishima yells, instantly regretting raising his voice at you and losing his cool. You tear up, furious that he’s treating you like some kid. You grab your stuff and prepare to leave his apartment.

“Where are you going?” Kirishima sighs

“Fuck you, Eijiro.” You say, walking away from him and going outside to cool off. Kirishima tries to grab you before you leave but you snatch your arm away from him and walk outside with a huff and a slam of the door. You wipe your hot tears away and start aimlessly walking down the street to go home. Hell, you don’t even know your way home from Eijiro’s place but you’ll be damned if you go back there. As you walk you see Kirishima’s car pull up to the side of you, driving slowly to keep up with your walking pace.

“Y/N please get in the car.” He says out the car window

“No! I don’t wanna talk to you so just go away!” You yell, continuing to walk as the brisk wind assaults your bare skin. Dammit you forgot your coat.

“Y/N! You’re being ridiculous just please get in the car. You left your jacket; it’s freezing out here!” Eijiro shouts, getting out of the car and grabbing you to pull you inside. You groan, obviously being overpowered by your strong boyfriend. Kirishima slams the door and gets back inside, drives back to his apartment and parks in the driveway. He sighs and leans his head on the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry I got so heated with you. But can you blame me? I’m worried about you. Sure we’ll be on these missions together but what if something happens? What if I’m not there to protect you when something goes wrong? These missions are unpredictable; anything could happen and I’d literally die if even a scratch is put on you.” Eijiro pleads. You start crying, sniffling at his words. He was right to be worried.

“I love you, Eijiro and I appreciate you being so concerned about me. But that doesn’t give you the right to shelter me. You can’t just force me to not follow my dream.” You sob, wiping your tears away. Eijiro grabs your hand and kisses it.

“I know. I just can’t bear the thought of you being hurt. But if this is what you really want, I have no choice but to at least see this through.” Kirishima says, holding your small hand in his two massive ones. You smile, putting your other hand on top of his.

“Thank you. Also, I’m sorry for saying fuck you to you. That was mean.” You say pouting.

“It was. Hurt my feelings.” Eijiro said faking sadness, immediately laughing as he watched your face frown up again at the thought of hurting his feelings.

“Oh shut up.”

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal (4)

Am I doing this right? I mostly do write this when I am between the state of sleep and awareness. Hope you enjoy this.

[Masterlist]

(Part 1) (Part 3)

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PART 4

Marinette came to a dungeon cell with two other prisoners. One of them was awake and he looked vaguely familiar. The other had an ugly red helmet that didn’t help with the headache she had.

“Do you know where we are?” She asked the handsome stranger with beautiful green eyes, her throat a little dry.

Wait. Handsome?

No bad Marinette. Don’t fall for fellow prisoners, no matter how cute he looks. Oh Kwamis, she was already screwed.

He still hadn’t replied. Maybe he didn’t understand French. She tried to ask again in another language before her enhanced hearing picked up the sound of footsteps. She faked unconsciousness. Later, she heard the iron door open. She looked through the tiniest slits of her eyes she could muster while the two held a staring/glaring match. Oh shit, that’s the fame Talia Al Ghul, daughter of Ra’s, head of the League of Shadows, and the boy she was glaring at had some resemblance to her, so he must be her son, Dennis? Daniel? Damon?

"Damian, I hope you know what you should do."

Ohh..Damian. Where had she heard that name before?

"To be forcefully married to that little girl. She is no one special. Why am I getting married to her?"

Ouch, that hurts. Well, Damian, just because I forgot your name does not mean you can call me a little girl. I can also kill you very easily and painfully.

“Well, Jason, you are awake. You can be the best man for the wedding.”

“No. I don’t know what game you are playing but you better release us. B is gonna find us and you will pay. Let the girl go. She is innocent in all of this.” Red Helmet, Jason, is officially not going on her hit list for his atrocious fashion choices. But that red monstrosity still needs to go.

"Ladybug may not seem like it but she possesses great power that my father converted for centuries. Speaking of, she should be awake by now."

Marinette felt her hair being yanked. A little pain was expected but the really sharp claws digging into her scalp was not. Making her cry and tear up.

”I am so sorry, kit.” Plagg whispered in the kwami language, loosening his claws.

"Tch, See, she is more pathetic than I thought. She is not powerful." Damian growled out.

Geez, thanks for the compliment, it’s not like you ever had a tiny cat dig its claws into your scalp out of surprise. (Damian once had a kitten thrown at his head and if he knew about Plagg, he would have been sympathetic.) Marinette started begging for mercy, hoping they would buy the helpless girl out of the suit that is ill-suited for the job she had been chosen for and had no idea on how to escape.

“Like I thought, weak. She is not deserving of the title of my wife.”

Oh kwamis, what did she ever do to have such a picky groom? The more he insults her, the less she wants to be married to him.

"Appearance can be deceiving. Despite her demeanor, she is the current wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous and the Current Guardian. The old Guardian, the old fool had promised her in exchange for his protection."

Great, another reason to stop her mother from killing a senile old man.

"That doesn't mean I want to marry her. She is not worthy of an Al Ghul or a Wayne. Look at her, crying at the slightest feeling of pain."

So that’s where she heard it from. The boy was the son of the daughter of a guy who leads a secret order of assassins and a man that owns a multi-million business. How even did a billionaire meet an assassin, ends up in bed with her and lives? Something to think about for later. She quieted down her sobs, (beat that acting, Rossi) kept her voice low to hatch out a plan with Plagg in the kwami language while the mother-son duo bickered.

“Hey, Plagg before you go, you think I can do that thing, the one which your one of your past holders from Japan can do.”

“You have a lot of potential for destruction but you have not used the ring for a long time yet so I am not sure.”

“I will give it a go anyways. Nothing to lose after all. See you later, Plagg.” Marinette smiled, one that drove fear into the hearts of even the bravest of people. Plagg returned it, already loving the new Guardian before zipping out of the cell to do some scouting. Using the enhanced strength the French superheroine got from prolonged use of the Miraculous, she yanked the chains of the walls and wrapped them around Talia’s neck, cutting off her air supply.

The League of Assassins thought that they could kidnap her and get away with it. But they were no match for the daughter of Sabine Cheng, the deadly Blue Reaper. A high ranking member from the group of assassins and mercenaries called the Guild of Night, who had semi-retired. Kidnapping her was a bad move to make as it meant they had declared war on the Guild, despite the reason behind her abduction having a completely different intention.

She whispered as such to the older woman in her tight grip, making sure the League would know how much they had fucked up. After dropping the limp body, she took a deep breath and tried channeling some of her energy for what she was about to do.

Well, here goes nothing.

She breathed out on the shackles, turning it to rust.

Success!

She introduced herself as Lady and concentrated the energy from before into her hand, forming inky black orbs of destruction in order to free her fellow captives. She felt a little drained from doing magic out of the suit and tried not to show it. Plagg returned, informing her of where the Ra’s and the Pits were. She grinned at the thought of showing old Ra’s who the boss is and made sure he regretted ever messing with her. She explained about Plagg as vaguely as she can, no need to let anyone know about the miraculous than necessary. Sure her plan sounds insane but the boys don’t know who they were with.

She would worry about that curse after she got out of Nanda Parbat. Although she could probably find something in the grimoire to reverse it, she was still an amateur at magic so it was best to have a professional to take care of it. Marinette didn’t want to be with such an asshole, no matter how striking he looks in those regal robes.

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

Picking off the League assassins, one by one was easy especially in her transformed state. She hadn’t appraised her suit properly but from what she had seen, it wasn’t like Chat Noir’s leather get-up. She was armoured in vital areas and her colour scheme was mainly black with green accents. There were vials that were probably poisons and pouches which she decided to look at later. She still had a long braid as a tail from her brief stint as Lady Noire and she wondered why her suit was different. While hiding in a niche she found, she called the bakery via the comm in one of her various pouches.

“Hello?”

“Papa, it’s me, Marinette. Do you know where Maman is?”

“She went out of Paris, talking about how this League must pay. I think she is meeting up with several of her old friends. Are you alright, my little blossom? I know you can take care of yourself but I worry.” The relief in Tom’s voice was palpable. However, she was right and the Guild was going to war against the League. Marinette was adored by nearly everyone in the Guild due to her strangely bubbly and cheery personality in the harsh and brutal lifestyle.

“I am fine, Papa. Did Maman use the Horse to leave? And how are my friends?” She knew they might be in a panic after her disappearance.

“I think she did. I didn’t see Kalki when I went to feed the kwamis. Your friends panicked when they found out you were kidnapped. But they are fine now, mostly worried about you. Took care of some akumas and senti monsters by themselves. I think your fencer friend, Kagami, knows more about the League than she lets on.” Of course, she does. Her mother was a member of the Guild before being blinded due to a mission. Kagami and her actually first met during a reunion party of sorts.

“Thank you, Papa. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up and dialed the personal phone number her mother uses that only Marinette and her father knows about. She waited for the call to connect, trying to think of ways to stop her mother from storming into the League’s base of operation.

“Maman, it’s me. I know you want to attack the League right this minute. But I have a better plan. Can you get Tikki’s earrings from Alix? We can use them and the ring to destroy the Lazarus Pits. Make them really angry.” She peeked out of the niche she was hiding in. She had been there for a while and needed to move to gain some grounds.

“Where are you? And are you okay?” Panic and worry filled her usually composed mother’s voice.

“I am somewhere in Nanda Parbat and I am fine. I was nearly married off to Talia’s son but I am not now. I think.” Marinette replied. Better to rip that band-aid off before she showed up with her would-have-been-husband. She jumped out of the niche and looked

“Kalki, Full Gallop. Okay, we will talk about the ‘nearly married’ part later. What was this plan to destroy the Lazarus Pits?” Sabine thought she was already used to Marinette’s brand of craziness that was her normal but apparently, not.

“I am currently on my way there. Plagg said we need Tikki to get rid of them. Since the League pissed me off and by extension you and the rest of the Guild, I thought our first move against them is to destroy the Pits and a trail of bodies. By the way, can you get some cheese for Plagg?” Marinette ran through the halls, knocking out some poor sod with a whack on the head.

Silence. She thought Sabine had hung up when-

“Voyage. Alix, where are you? We need Tikki for one of Marinette’s insane plans. And Marinette, stay safe, sweety, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

“Bye, Maman. See you there.”

Marinette turned another corner, the last one before the path that leads to the entrance where the Lazarus Pits were. She only managed to find it with Plagg’s voice in her head, whispering directions and Tikki’s luck. Unfortunately, the luck ran out because the entrance had a lot of guards who had spotted her.

Crap.

She hoped her mother would get here soon. Thankfully, being transformed gave her a boost and would help her to hold her ground for a while.

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

Damian and Red Hood followed the trail of unconscious bodies and sounds of fights, trying to find Lady. Damian was impressed at the level of her skills to defeat many of the League’s assassins although he could probably do better. They relied on his memory to find the Lazarus Pits which was their best bet to finding her as she claimed to be able to destroy them. If Lady possessed such powers, they must find out whether she is a threat to the world or not. And also break the infernal curse they have.

Red Hood was silent mostly. He made a few jabs about how kick ass his ‘bride’ was and how the current Robin should not let her get away. Damian tried really hard not to just maim his adopted brother and also ignore that little fluttering in his chest that happened every time they saw an unconscious assassin left behind by Lady. The sounds of fighting got louder as they got nearer to the entrance. They turned the final corner to see Lady fighting against the guards who outnumbered her. But she seemed to be doing fine against them. Mostly.

One had slipped through her defenses and nearly stabbed her in the back if it weren’t for Damian grabbing one of Red Hood’s guns and shooting a rubber bullet to the neck. He jumped into the fight, grabbing the fallen assassin’s sword and taking out the knife he got from his mother. Jason joined in too, not going to let the two teens have all the fun.

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

“Thanks for the save, Al Ghul but I don’t know why you bothered when me being dead would solve your curse problem.” Lady said as the guards laid around them and they tried to catch their breath.

“It’s Wayne. I go by Wayne these days. Being an Al Ghul is not something I learned to be proud of. And as much as I don’t want this curse, your death is not worth that price.” he replied, “Although, I have to wonder why you would choose to die rather than live.”

She chuckled, “Okay, Wayne, to answer your question. Petty teenage drama makes death much more preferable. On top of that, I have responsibilities that I was practically forced into for doing one little act of kindness.” Her tone was joking but there was a touch of bitterness in it. It made Damian want to find out what caused it. Red Hood looked at her in concern. Lady went down the stairs, ignoring their reactions to her words. They followed her, not wanting to lose sight of her again.

The Lazarus Pits emitted a green glow that lit up the cave and cast strange shadows on the walls. At the edge of the glowing toxic green waters was a woman in dark blue clothing and strangely enough wearing sunglasses. Strapped to her sides were two Dao, ancient Chinese swords. She wore a vindictive expression on her face as she stood staring at the green lake, likely to kill anyone who gets in her way. Damian didn’t recognize the woman as part of the League but taking no chances, he got into a fighting stance and Hood did the same. Lady calmly approached the woman. He reached out to grab her to stop her suicidal nature when she shocked him by speaking to the blue-clad assassin in French,

“Hey, Maman, sorry I am late. I had a little trouble with the guards upstairs. You have Tikki?”

Lady’s mother rushed to hug her, “灵儿 (líng er), I am just glad you are alright. I knew you could handle yourself.”

How the hell did Lady’s mother get to the Lazarus Pits faster than them and snuck past several vigilant guards? Before Damian could question further, a red blur appeared and went to Lady’s face, hugging her cheek. It appeared to be the same size as Plagg but was red, looked like a bug and had a black dot on its forehead.

“Oh, Marinette, you are alright. I was so worried when your mother showed up, saying you were kidnapped and needed my earrings to escape.” Unlike Plagg’s nasally voice, her voice was sweet and shrill.

So, my bride’s name is Marinette. Such a unique name for an intriguing girl.

Wait what?

Wayne, stop thinking such ridiculous notions. That is probably the curse working. Resist against it. He will not be ensnared in the traps of such magic. He hoped that the curse will be reversed before he turns and act like those fools in Grayson’s idiotic shows or Todd’s ‘secret’ romance novels.

“I am fine now. See,” reassured Lady, “We actually need you and Plagg to reverse the Lazarus Pits to what it was before someone made the wish that resulted in them in the first place. Oh, I almost forgot. Plagg, claws in.”

Green light flashed, leaving Lady in her wedding robes (which actually flatter her body. Shit. Think of something else. Drake with a smug superior smile that needs to be wiped off his face. Grayson and his plans for ‘family bonding’) and Plagg to reappear.

“Cheese.” whined the cat-like kwami(?) to which the older woman held out a brown bag that smelled and made Plagg perk up in delight. He proceeded to open the bag, taking out a slice of stinky cheese, muttering about the greatness of camembert.

Todd cleared his throat and asked in English, “Umm...Pixie as much as your reunion is touching. Who’s the new lady?”

“Oh Right, sorry. Well, Red Hood, this is my mother, the Blue Reaper of the Guild of Night. Maman, this is Red Hood and the one next to him is my husband-to-be and Talia’s Spawn, Damian Wayne.”

Lady introduced them, also in English. Damian stilled in fear, recognizing the name. The Blue Reaper nearly became his mother-in-law. She was famous for her efficiency and ruthlessness. And gained her nickname from the blue clothing she often wore as she killed her targets. His eyes also widened at how his grandfather had gone a little too far now by kidnapping the Reaper’s daughter. There were other organizations that could possibly take down the League if it weren’t for the somewhat truce between Ra’s and the other leaders. The Guild was one of them and having the Lazarus Pits to revive their soldiers made the League a little more powerful. But if what the mother-daughter duo were planning succeeded, then the League was going to have one of its most deadly wars in its history and would probably never recover from.

“Tikki, Plagg, you guys ready?” asked Lady.

“Yes, Guardian.” They both replied and emitted a blinding red and green light which Damian shielded his eyes from. When it died down, the Lazarus Pits no longer glowed a toxic green and looked… like normal hot spring water.

“Oh. I wished I could see Ra’s face when he finds out.” Lady laughed. Plagg and Todd joined in.

“Pixie, I am beginning to like you.”

“Voyage. That being said, it’s time to go home, Marinette. Your father must be worried sick about us by now. I hope you boys can find your own way back.” A portal opened up, showing a cozy living room. Damian grabbed Lady’s wrist as she moved towards it.

“Wait, let us come with you. We need to contact someone to get rid of the curse on both of us. And we can also call our father to send us tickets for a ride home wherever you live.”

“Curse? Marinette, you never mentioned a curse in your call.” Blue Reaper said, raising her eyebrow.

“I will explain later. They can come with us and I am pretty sure Ra’s knows that we have escaped by now.” Lady grabbed the two brothers and dragged them through the portal.

She then threw herself onto the couch after releasing her hold on them and the two pocket gods went to comfort her after her ordeal. The Blue Reaper stood where the other portal was and fed a floating tiny gray horse, that must be the same species as Tikki or Plagg, some sugarcubes.

“You boys must be tired but the showers are upstairs and we might have some clothes your size. Dinner will be ready in an hour. You can stay the night if you want. Welcome to Paris.”

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Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop, @all-mights-asscheeks, @idk-j-go-with-it , @loysydark, @thenillabean, @lolieg, @zalladane, @silvergold-swirl

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(Part 5)

[priortoallthoughts]

Don’t Mess With the Commander’s Caf

(or do, because it’s gotten you this far)

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.6k

Pairing: Commander Fox x afab!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing; gets a bit spicy at the end but nothing explicit.

Summary: What is supposed to be a night out at 79s turns into a night in the drunk tank, and the morning starts a startling new relationship with a certain Coruscant Guard Commander. All over a cup of caf.

// [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]

Masterlist

A night out in Coruscant is never complete for you without going to the clone bar, 79s. You may pre-game somewhere else, but you always end up there, recognizable as one of their regulars. You love the atmosphere, honestly. It’s so jovial, just vode – and weren’t you surprised when you found out that clones spoke a different language with each other – coming to forget the war for a night. Living life as much as they could. You’ve picked up a few words of theirs purely because you hear them so often. Many a curse word too, which are your favorites.

And they were about to be put to good use.

You’re already buzzed and walking with a group of grey-clad troopers that had pulled you into their group when they saw you walking alone. You chat easily with them even though you never met them before. That’s the funny thing about being sociable when you’re sober – you’re even more chatty when you drink. And giggly apparently, considering you couldn’t stop laughing at the mission gone wonky they were telling you about.

When 79s came into view your smile widens. There really is nothing like the neon lights and bass you can already hear resonating from inside. Were there probably millions of places just like in on Coruscant already? Sure. But there isn’t anywhere aside from 79s you could find this kind of ambiance.

There is one downside that pisses you off like no other though.

There’s yelling coming from over by the speeder-way and when you look over, another civilian is getting in the face of a Coruscant guard member. The frown the graces your face feels wrong after laughing so much, but you can’t help it. You pause in your tracks. Usually when you see this kinda shit it deescalates fairly quickly, but this civilian is getting louder and more violent the more the (admittedly nervous acting) guard tried to calm him down.

“Hey.” A hand lands on your shoulder and you look up to see one of your group. “We can’t do anything. The punishment would be too harsh and that civvie chakaar won’t even get a slap on the wrist.”

Your frown turns into a snarl. “You can’t do anything.”

Fishing your flask out of your jacket pocket you take a swig before shoving it into the chest of the closest trooper. The steady click of your heels is the only thing you can hear over the growing volume of yelling.

“Hey! Shabuir in the stupid shirt!” Your own yell interrupts.

You have exactly one second to reconsider things before you think about all the vitriol this jackass is spewing at the guard for nothing. The sound of your fist hitting his face is the most satisfying thing you’ve heard tonight, along with the yelp he lets out when he hits the ground.

“What the kriff is your problem, bitch?!”

“You talking shit about this trooper is my problem!”

He turns towards the guard again and the trooper flinches. “I want her arrested for battery!”

You lean down to grab his collar and shake him out. “Oh, so now you want him to do his job? The one you were just belittling him for? Can’t have it both ways, chakaar!”

“Let go of me!”

You drop him so suddenly that his head cracks against the ground. He scrambles to his feet and points a finger at you. “You’ll regret this! They’re nothing but meat-droids!”

“Say that again, you little pissant. I dare you.” You go to take a step forward but he’s already running away. A hand on your shoulder again makes you look over to the one you defended.

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” And he does sound sorry. “I will have to take you in tonight. I… can’t ignore you attacking someone right in front of me.”

You smile at him. “No problem, trooper. Do your job; I don’t want you getting in trouble.” You offer your wrists to him and next thing you know they’re in a pair of binders behind your back and you’re being placed in the back of a speeder.

“A night in the drunk tank should sort you out.”

The smile you give him is blinding, because not only do you know that’s not the proper booking for what you just did, at least you look cute while you’re being taken away.

---

When you wake up in your cell (lucky you’re the only one there) you’re beyond tired and in desperate need of some caf. You can’t function without it in the morning.

There’s a guard member who lets you out not long after you get up. You follow him like a zombie. Presumably he’s leading you out of all the twisting hallways, but you stop short when your nose picks up the distinct smell of caf.

But not just any caf. You know the smell of Death Wish anywhere.

Your favorite.

You follow your nose to a mess hall – sparsely populated but still enough that everyone stops what they’re doing to look at you as you make your way to the caf machines in the back. You’re basically falling asleep as you walk so you don’t notice. Maybe you should care, considering you’re still wearing your clubbing outfit from last night, but no, you don’t actually care.

When you get there you see two different machines. One is labeled with some cheap, generic caf name and the other is simply “Fox’s Starfighter Fuel.”

You grab a flimsi cup and fill it with the second one. No cream. No sugar.

No life, only caf.

You finally notice how deathly quite it is as you take your first sip and turn around. There’s one trooper standing in front of you, helmet tucked under his arm, and the most severe look you’ve ever seen before gracing his features. You look him over with half-lidded eyes, noticing he’s dressed differently than the others, and casually take another sip of caf.

“You must be Fox.”

“Civilians aren’t allowed in this part of the building, who let you in here?”

Still waiting for the caf to kick in, you shrug. “Spent the night in the tank. No one stopped me when I walked in.”

Fox turns to glare at everyone sitting at the tables. They all look down at their food like they weren’t obviously watching and someone starts whistling.

“You need to leave,” he says when he turns back around.

“Can I finish my caf first?” You ask, taking more sips hoping to stall.

He glowers even more. “That’s not even your caf!”

“Shame.” You chug the rest of the still mostly full cup and coughs wrack your chest when you finish. “I think I just burned my esophagus,” you rasp.

“Get out.”

“That’s completely fair.”

You toss your cup in the trash on the way out. Turning the way you were going before you got distracted, you make your way to the exit; no need to bring the wrath of Fox down on you for sticking around. You feel like, once again, you get off light and dont’t want to press your luck. The smile that graces your face as you step outside is probably a strange thing for anyone else to see considering you’re walking out of jail, but you had a good night, and the morning is shaping up to follow suit.

---

The next day you walk into the caf shop you normally stop at on the way to work. The barista behind the counter waves as you walk up. “Your usual, hun?”

“You know me,” you smile brightly, “but, uh, can you make it two?”

Her eyes widen. “I can’t imagine the morning you’re expecting to have!”

You laugh and wave her off. “Nothing bad. I owe someone a cup.”

“You mean someone else drinks this sludge?”

“Imagine my surprise. And it’s not that bad!”

She places two large flimsi cups in front of you. Your hands rub together nervously before you get your thoughts together. “Can I borrow your marker?”

She hands it to you with a raised eyebrow and you quickly scribble a few words on one of the cups. It isn’t a lot, and it completely gives away who you are without having to sign your name, so you hope it’s okay.

“Thanks, gotta run!” You scurry out of the door before the barista can ask anything about what you’re doing.

You aren’t even sure yourself if you were being completely honest. The Coruscant Guard building is a little out of your way from your route to work, but you leave early in the mornings anyway, so you can still make it in time even with the detour. You feel a bit nervous walking in this time. Where did all your confidence from yesterday go?

You flag down the first trooper you see that doesn’t look busy.

“Can you give this to Fox, please?” You hold out the cup for him to take.

He doesn’t.

He only stands there, and you imagine he’s making a face behind his helmet because he doesn’t say anything either.

After a few seconds of silence you lower the cup awkwardly. “Uhh, oh, sorry, am I allowed to bring caf?”

“Why are you bringing the Commander caf?” He finally asks.

You squeeze the cups so much the tops almost pops off. “Fox is a commander?”

“Commander Fox is head of the Coruscant Guard, ma’am.”

The top of your own cup does pop off this time, but nothing spills.

“The entire guard?” You squeak.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Heat is quick to crawl up your face. “Oh stars, I can’t believe I took his caf.” Your internal panic is quickly becoming external as you try not to drop either cup. You hid your face behind one in embarrassment.

“Wait.” The guard member tilts his head. “You’re the one they were talking about yesterday? The girl from the mess hall?”

There’s a few second where nothing but incomprehensible noises come out of your mouth, but you finally get out, “how many people know about that?!”

“It’s made its way around.”

“I’m gonna - kriff - go throw myself off the senate building I swear-“

You’re cut off by the sound of a chuckle and you snap your head up to see the guard member’s shoulders shaking. “So you’re not trying to poison the Commander, huh?”

“No!” You yelp, but quiet down after you see others turn to look at you. “I was just trying to repay the caf I drank! We like the same kind!”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Can you please just give this to him before I die of embarrassment? You’re killing me here!”

He laughs again and finally takes the cup from your shaking hands. “Who should I say it’s from?”

You slap a hand over your face to hide your grimace. “At this point I’d rather not tell you. I want to keep some of my dignity intact,” you mutter.

“Nobody’s dignity is intact here, ma’am.”

“Oh… joy.”

“You best be on your way then.”

He is giving you an out and you’re taking it in full.

“Have a good day,” you say as you turn, the only proof you’ve been there being one guard member and a note on a flimsi cup.

“Sorry for taking your caf yesterday.”

---

One week later you find yourself standing outside of the caf shop, once again with two cups in hand through no fault of your own. It makes you think that maybe another trip to the Coruscant Guard building wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Why waste a perfectly good drink after all?

You pause immediately when you step through the door, because the man you’re looking for is standing across the room talking to someone with a datapad in hand. The decision on whether to interrupt is made for you when the person he’s talking to looks over and spots you.

He waves and Fox finally looks over as well, tilting his head as he does so. You take a deep breath before walking over to them.

“Caf girl!”

You raised your eyebrow at the other trooper. “I really am known around here for that, aren’t I?” You say as you stop in front of them. You have a sneaking suspicion that he is the same one you talked to last week.

“Well you never gave me your name,” he shrugs.

Yeah, it’s him.

Your head snaps to Fox, however, when he addresses you.

“You know my name?”

“Your information was processed and put into the system when you spent the night in the tank.”

“Osik,” you mutter.

“Did you need something?” He asks.

You perk up some, and hold out the second drink in your hand. “Right, there was a mixup at the caf shop, and I got an extra drink. I thought you might like it.”

He takes it carefully, but your bare fingers still brush against his gloved ones. They tingle when you pull away, and while the heat on your palm from holding the hot cup fades, the heat in your fingertips does not. You have the sudden urge to find out what holding his hand feels like, but you push that thought down along with the blush you can feel rising. Now isn’t the time. You have to get to work. Maybe if you come by earlier next time….. would there be a next time?

“Thank you. I… appreciate the thought.” You think you hear him trip over his words, but there’s no way.

You smile brightly at him. “You’re welcome!” You check the time on your chrono. “Looks like I gotta bounce. Enjoy your caf, Commander!”

Your retreat is quick, but hells if you don’t add a little extra sway to your hips as you walk out the doors.

And scribbled on the cup now in Fox’s hand is:

“I know day old caf when I taste it. Fresh is better.”

---

You start to bring Fox caf every week.

“This has become part of my routine, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Every week turns into every few days.

“Your filing system is horrifying but at least your chair is comfy.”

Every few days turns into every day.

“Tell Thorn that if he sees me at 79s tonight, he can’t arrest me just so I’ll hang out with him.”

And leaving early just to see Fox is the best part of your day no matter what. You hope you’re not the only one who feels like this. That maybe as you walk to the Guard building in the morning, you’re not the only one smiling and counting down the minutes until you get to Fox’s office. He never turns you away, and he’s always there to take the extra caf from your hands if he can be. Sometimes you have to leave it on his desk if he’s not in, but you understand that his job isn’t easy by any stretch of the word.

He is in this morning, however, seeing as the door opens promptly at your knock. He sits behind his desk, a few data pads already stacked next to him and a frown marring his face. That won’t do.

“Credit for your thoughts?” You say as you set his caf down next to his helmet and lean against his desk.

Fox looks up and gives you a tired smile, unaware of how it makes your stomach flutter. “Shaping up to be a long day.”

“Giving yourself more grey hairs already?” You say, giving a pointed look to his already greying sides.

“Like I need any more,” he huffs.

“I dunno,” you reach up and run your fingers lightly through his short curls, “I think they make you look distinguished.”

He lets out a breath you didn’t know he had been holding. “At least one of us thinks so.”

“It’s okay, I can like it enough for the both of us.”

“Should I count myself lucky then?” He smirks, finally taking a sip of his caf and sighing contently into the cup.

You give him a cheeky grin. “You should.”

He looks at you then, not saying anything, and you can’t help the flush you feel crawling up your face. You swear, you had never blushed so much around anyone before you met him. You distract yourself by drinking your own caf, the liquid welcome to your suddenly dry mouth.

“I do.”

“What?” Your head snaps back up to him and he’s still looking at you, but not in a way you’ve seen before.

“I do count myself lucky.”

You look away shyly, a small smile forming at the corners of your mouth. Sure, you two have been lightly flirting with each other, or at at least you’re definitely flirting with him, but this is the most straight-forward thing he’s ever said to you.

“It’s a good thing I got myself arrested that night then, isn’t it?”

It’s uncharted territory, where this conversation is heading. The thought of what it could be sits low in your belly and causes you to let out a shakey breath.

“It’s quite the holovid to watch,” he says offhandedly.

You’re lucky you aren’t drinking your caf, otherwise you would have spit it everywhere. You turn your head so hard you think you give yourself whiplash, mouth agape, looking at him in wide-eyed mortification.

“There’s a holo of that?!” The pitch of your voice would be embarrassing if you weren’t in the middle of spontaneously combusting on the inside.

He nods empathetically, which is shit because you know for damn sure he’s not empathetic about it; he’s having too much fun with this. You know he is, with that stupid, heart-stopping smirk playing on his face.

“Our HUDs record each incident for our files to make sure everything matches up with the reports.”

“Nooooooooooooo,” you whine quietly into your hands that now cover your face. You hear him get up and move to stand in front of you, but you don’t react. Mainly because you have no idea what he’s doing, but also he’s so kriffing close you can barely handle it.

His pries your hands from your face and presses them to his desk, effectively caging you in. He’s even closer now, and you’re hyper aware of how hard your heart is pounding even though you stop breathing. It’s the last thing from threatening, but you’re still frozen.

He leans in so his mouth is right next to your ear. “You look good in that little red dress of yours,” he whispers, his voice octaves lower than before. “Especially when you’re beating the kark out of a civvie – standing up for my vod.” It sends a pleasurable shiver down your spine and straight to your ovaries.

You suck in a breath when he pulls away. This is much more than you could have expected. “You’re not giving me much incentive to not be arrested again,” you tilt your head, “now that I know you’d be watching.”

“Always watching you, cyare.”

You hum, pulling one hand away from his to run up his armor and trace lightly over his jaw. “Gonna have to try harder to get a pair of binders on me next time, then.”

“Would you run?”

“Only if you’re the one chasing me.”

You move your hand from his jaw to the back of his neck and scratch lightly, feeling more than seeing him shiver under your fingertips.

“I’d find you.”

“Oh, I’d be counting on it, Commander.”

It’s a mutual surge that leads you two to lean in, culminating in the most charged kiss you’ve ever received. You throw your other hand around his neck, holding him as close as you can, while his hands latch onto your hips, pulling you up and into his embrace. He leads you back until he’s sitting in his chair and the next thing you know you’re falling into his lap to straddle him. You break for air, and to process that yes, this is happening, before you’re kissing again. A little slower; a little deeper.

You moan quietly into his mouth, and his hands move to your ass so he can pull you even closer.

There’s a chime from your chrono and you pull away, panting.

Fox’s eyes are dark and hungry when he looks at you. “You have to go soon.”

You nod, not breaking eye contact, and not moving either.

He grins, and it looks absolutely predatory. He slides the top of your blouse down slowly, just enough for his mouth to latch on to you right above your collarbone. You let out another breathy moan, and his teeth graze your skin in response as he sucks harder. His tongue soothes the area over when he lets go, and he looks at the quickly darkening spot with what you can only assume is possessive pride.

“For you to remember,” he says huskily.

Knowing he’s just staked his claim on you stokes the fire inside you even more. You give him your own feral grin, and pull down the collar of his blacks as he stiffens. “Who am I to allow you to forget, then?”

You suck hard at the column of his throat, higher than he did on you, knowing it would still be covered. You taste the sweat that had been building up, and his skin which you can’t even describe except that it tastes like him.

He groans lowly into your ear and you shiver when you pull away. You drag your nail lightly over the dark bruise in satisfaction before pulling his collar back up.

You slide off his armored thighs slowly. He follows you to stand, and gives you one last, long, kiss.

“Until next time, cyare.”

When you leave his office, you wish you had written something more on his cup than a crudely drawn fox with a smiley face next to it. Tomorrow though, you wonder what you can get away with saying.

“Next time I’m wearing that little red dress, feel free to search me. Who knows what I could be hiding.”

[wonder-kid-pugh]

Karma's a bitch - (Emily Sonnett x reader)

This one is slightly different. Reader is a YouTuber with a popular channel called On The Wildside. The chapter switches behind let's say "real life" and then to "recorded clips". So it might be a bit weird and difficult but hopefully it makes sense. Hope you enjoy!!!

"What! Is! Up! My Wilders! Welcome back to the Wildside" I say my intro as I hold up my camera to record myself. I smirk as I spin around as I continue, "And for today's video you are going to see me get my revenge on my girlfriend!"

Along with being a personal trainer for high paying clients, I also run a popular lifestyle and fitness Channel on YouTube which had amassed over a million followers. I usually posted fitness videos and just daily lifestyle vlogs along with soccer challenges with the occasional prank video. It was through my channel I had actually met my girlfriend.

I had gotten in touch with the Portland Thorns to do a video with them for my channel as part of a series I had started, aiming to play all of the NWSL teams in a series of challenges. And she just happened to be one of the players involved in the video.

She was also the one who hit me in the back of the head with a miss kicked soccer ball.

And that's how I met Emily Sonnett.

After that day we kept in touch and with me going to watch her games with the thorns and even meeting up again to do a few more videos with the national team until she eventually asked me out, with much persuasion from her teammates.

And now we have been together for a long time just managing with the long distance. Until she got traded to Washington. And while she was sad to not be at the thorns, on the upside we got to move in together.

Which had both it's positives and negatives.

"So if you have seen the most recent videos or even my Instagram posts. You will know that Em has kinda gone mad with the pranks lately. She got me at Christmas with wrapping my entire office with wrapping paper".

*Emily fumbles with the camera before it eventually focuses on her face*

She gives the camera a toothy smile, "Hey guys!" She starts to walk around causing the camera to blur slightly but can just make our the main image. "So obviously Y/n isn't here today. She's out with a client at the moment and won't be back until later. So I decided to help her get into the Christmas spirit with a little prank".

Flips the camera to show Y/n's office. "So with the help of a few friends" .

*pans the camera to show Kelley and a few other teammates*

"We're going to wrap everything in her room with wrapping paper!"

*Time lapse fast forwarded to show them wrapping her entire room*

"So Y/n is after texting me saying she'll be home soon and she is bringing me dinner which almost makes me feel bad". Emily pauses and looks down the camera, "Almost". She grins at the camera, "So I'm going to set up one of her cameras in her office to film her reaction and yeah hopefully she's like it". She cackles before it transitions to the next clip.

*Shows a clip of Y/n walking into her office only to freeze in the doorway when she sees the room*

Y/n throws her head back with a groan, "Emily!" You can hear the sound of Emily laughing in the background before she appears in the doorway with a wide grin across her face.

"Merry Christmas!" The blonde giggles as Y/n picks up a book that was wrapped. Y/n quirked an eyebrow at her, "You got me everything I already own?"  The camera shakes slightly due to her nodding and laughing, "You get the gift of opening them all over again?"  Y/n sighs before she spots something spherical over the in the corner.

"You wrapped my exercise ball? How?"

"With great difficulty"

Y/n licks her lips too tired to even argue. She tears off the wrapping paper off the chair before sitting down. She groans with her head in her hands before looking up at the blonde holding the camera.

"I hate you so much"

"I love you too".

She slumps in her chair as she looks around the room. "I'm too tired to do anything about this" . She glares back at the blonde, "Why would you even do this?" "Cause I love you?" In response to that Y/n scrunches up the wrapping paper into a ball and throws it at her.

"I'm still pissed at her for that by the way. She used all our wrapping paper and it took me forever to find my stuff she moved" Y/n sighs into the camera. "She also put a load of plastic cups filled with water around our bedroom while I was sleeping. But that ended up backfiring on her".

*A fast forwarded time lapse of Emily covering the floor of their bedroom with cups of water as well as any flat surfaces so Y/n couldn't climb on anything. She holds up 3 fingers and counts down to the camera before blowing an air horn causing Y/n to shot up in the bed*

Y/n peaks her head out from under the blanket only to see Emily giggling with the camera. She looks around confused before spoting all the cups. She groans loudly, "For fuck sake Em". She narrows her eyes at the blonde, "You have way too much free time if this is what your doing".

Y/n grabs a few of the cups and purposely empties them over Emily's stuff. "Hey!" The blonde shouts but Y/n just gives her a look, "What? You come in here and stop me? Be my guest". Emily groans dramatically, "I didn't think this through".

"Did you even think at all?"

"Hurtful"

Y/n clears a few of the cups without making too much of a mess. She sighs as she rubs her eyes, "It's too early for this shit Emily". She points at the defender holding the camera, "I hope you know your cleaning this shit up". Emily chuckles behind the camera.

Y/n looks up on the doorframe where her pull up bar is stuck. She looks between herself and the bar before smirking. "Y/n don't-" Emily starts but it falls on deaf ears. As Y/n bends her knees and make the long jump and grabs onto the bar. Her momentum swings her forward to where Emily is standing.

*In an attempt to soften the hit, Y/n wraps her legs around her waist making sure she doesn't fall. But in doing so she dropped the camera with a grunt causing the screen to blackout*

"And one of the worst ones was when she went away for a match and hid a bunch of alarm clocks around our bedroom which were all set to different times in the morning. Leaving me to wake up every little while to find the bloody things".

*Short clips of Y/n sleeping in the dark bedroom only for an alarm clock to blare causing Y/n to jolt in her sleep. This repeats multiple times showing different clips*

"And ever since then she's has also throw flour bombs at me, woke me up by pouring water all over me and she turned the hallway outside our bedroom into a slip and slide.

*Shows brief clip of  Y/n slipping and falling on her ass*

"So I've decided to give her a taste of her own medicine!" Y/n exclaims to the camera. "So she's coming back late from a game tonight so I'm going to set up a few cameras and pretend to be mad at her and tell her I'm sleeping in the living room".

Y/n smirks at the camera, "One thing you need to know about Emily Sonnett is she loves her cuddles. Especially after a game. She's like a fricken Koala when she sleeps. She just clings onto you". She moves to set the camera down so it has a clear view of the bedroom, "And this is going to set up for my main prank for tomorrow".

"So I'm going to go set up everything. And wait until she gets home". Y/n gives a thumbs up to the camera before it times skips.

*Time has passed to show it's pretty late now. You can hear the jingling of keys before the door opens and closes. Y/n freezes before smiling at the camera and jumps up and starts gathering stuff*

Emily steps in the doorway and drops her bags. But scrunches her face when see her girlfriend isn't asleep and is in fact awake. "Y/n/n? What are you doing?" With an annoyed look on her face, Y/n looked over her shoulder before going back to gathering a blanket and a pillow, "I'm going to sleep in the living room".

Emily looks at her weird, "What? Why?" She moves to grab her hand but Y/n just pulls her arm away, "What's wrong?" Y/n just shrugs her off, "I'm going to sleep on the couch".

Emily crosses her arms upset as Y/n gathers up the last of her things, "Did something happen? Did I do something?" But Y/n just ignores her before shuffling out of the room. Emily curses quietly unaware that there's a camera in the room and that this is all a prank.

After a long sigh Emily pulls out her phone and dials quickly before holding it up to her ear. After a brief minute she starts starting

"Hey Kel did I forget an anniversary?"

*Cuts to the camera set up in their living room which is facing their couch. Y/n has a make shift bed set up as she's scrolling through her phone before she untangles herself from the blankets leaving to go to the bathroom*

After Y/n leaves a minute later you can shuffling off camera before Emily wrapped in blankets comes into view. She pauses at the couch before she jumps and flops on the couch making sure she's wrapped up in her blanket. Completely unknown that this is getting caught on camera.

A few minutes later Y/n comes back with her phone in hand. It swaps to her phones point of view as it shows a close up of Emily's face peaking out from the bundle of blanket. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked desperately trying to fight the small smile coming to her face. But Emily just smiles cutely up at her, "We're sleeping in the living room". Y/n groans quietly, "Noooo". But Emily just keeps smiling, "Together". Y/n shakes her head, "No. I am".

But Emily just ignores her and pulls the blanket back and nods towards her, "C'mon!" Y/n just sighs, "Kay fine. You sleep here and I'll sleep in the bed". Emily almost falls out of the bed trying to stop her, "Nooooo".

They have a mini staring competition before it cuts to the next frame where the two are seen cuddling on the couch with Emily lying on top of Y/n's chest.

"Okay! So last night's prank didn't go exactly how I planned" Y/n starts as she's back holding the camera. "BUT! I have something else planned!" She exclaims.

"So last night was really just meant for her to think I'm mad at her for some reason or another. Which sets up today's prank perfectly" she explains. "So I'm sure many of you have seen this one already but I'm going to put my own twist on it".

"So Emily and Kelley have gone out to train together today and then they're going to come back here to hang out" Y/n starts before smiling down at the camera, "but I'm going to pretend to just come out of the shower". She grins, "Well.... you'll see what happens".

*Camera cuts a clip of the kitchen where Emily and Kelley are. Emily is on her phone by the island while Kelley is looking through their fridge (obviously). Y/n walks in with a towel wrapped tightly around her*

Y/n walks around for a bit before Emily looks up and smiles before going back to her phone. It takes a second before Emily does a double take, eyes widen when she realizes that Y/n is supposedly only walking around in a towel.

"Y/n!" Emily gawked causing Kelley to look over and snort at the sight. Y/n just looks at her girlfriend unbothered, "What?" Emily just looks her up and down motioning to her lack of attire, "Uh!" "What?" Y/n asks frustratedly. "What are you doing?" Emily asked while Kelley just watched on amused.

"Nothing!" Y/n throws her hands up. "Get dressed" Emily says. "Why?" Y/n asks nonchalantly. "Your in a towel!" Emily says angrily. "So what?" Y/n just retorts. "Cause we have company!" Emily argues motioning to Kelley standing at the fridge who just holds her hands up in surrender.

Y/n just shrugs, "So what? It's only Kelley. She doesn't care". "I care! Only I get to see you like this!" Emily shouts angrily. Y/n runs a hand through her hair, "I don't see the problem I'm covered! I'm covered". "I don't care go get changed" Emily says sternly which is a bit weird to see from her usual happy, upbeat persona.

"She's not bothered by it" Y/n defends herself motioning her arm in Kelley's direction. "I'm bothered by it!" Sonnet claps back getting even angrier, "just go put something on".

Hiding her smirk Y/n progresses with the prank, "You know what? You know what? No. Now this". Y/n then turns her back to her girlfriend as she faces Kelley who's eyes widen substantially as Y/n untucks the towel still holding the ending with her hands.

Catching onto the joke, Kelley bursts our laughing which only fuels Emily's rage further as she stands there stunned that her girlfriend would do such a thing. "This is happening" Y/n says throwing a look back at Emily over her shoulder. "Y/n! That's not-" Emily stutters out trying to find the words.

"She's seen me like this before and so have you" Y/n says as Kelley is still gasping for breath as she laughs. "What are you-" Emily starts only to stop when Y/n drops the towel to reveal one of Y/n's dresses which she has pulled down the sleeves to hide underneath the towel.

Emily's jaw drops as Kelley falls into another fit of giggles as she leans against the island. "Gotcha!" Y/n grins. Emily's mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out as she just stuttered unintelligently, "Uh I um?" Y/n moves to pick up the camera and hold it in front of Emily, "Say Hi to the internet Babe".

If at all possible, Emily's cheeks flushed even darker, "You recorded all this?!" Y/n hummed contently, "And last night". Emily leans back against the island and slides down to the floor, "Last night! That was a prank?" Y/n giggles, "Yup!" Emily slumps back, "Thank god! I thought you were pissed at me! I thought I forgot an anniversary or something!"

There is some shuffling and a bit of blurry imagines before it shows Y/n sitting on the ground beside Emily as she grins, "Nah. Just payback for all the pranks you've pulled on me recently". Emily buried her face in her girlfriend's shoulder letting out a small, "I'm sorry" although it came out muffled.

Y/n leans her cheek on Emily's head, "It's okay. But just remember next time you prank me, remember how I got you back". "Emily pouted at her girlfriend, "Fine. No more pranks". Y/n smiled as she pressed a kiss to the top of her blonde crown. But of course Kelley had to interrupt.

"If there is ever a prank war, I'm calling Y/n for my team".

Emily growled at her teammate as she koala hugged her girlfriend's side, "No!" Y/n giggled as she shrugged at Kelley, "Sorry Kels I'm taken". "Damn right you are" Emily mumbles as she presses herself even further into Y/n's embrace.

Y/n smiled as she holds up the camera, "Well that's it for my revenge pranks back on my girlfriend. If you want to see the full videos of Emily's pranks on me, I'll leave them in the description. Comment below for any videos you would like to see". "No more prank videos" Emily whined at the camera causing the other two to laugh before Y/n finished her outro. "Well that's it for now. Until next time. Peace out Wilders!"

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

Lacuna Coil's Cristina Scabbia: "in the music world, if being sexy is the only thing that you have to offer, that’s kind of sad.”

Cristina Scabbia faces your questions on 'female-fronted' metal (sigh), videogames and life in Lacuna Coil

She may share vocal duties with the growling Andrea Ferro in Lacuna Coil, but Cristina Scabbia has always attracted the spotlight. For a quarter of a century, she’s been Milan’s most gothic export, flooring crowds with her soaring voice. Such is her charisma that she’s in demand all over the world, and has collaborated with everyone from Megadeth to Alter Bridge. She also uses her downtime to stream on Twitch and is a bona fide videogame know-it-all. Does she even sleep?!

Here's how she fared when we threw some of your most pressing questions at her.

What is your favourite Final Fantasy game? @CMilesRacer

“VII, without a shadow of a doubt. The first one I played and the most iconic. It was the first one on PS1. It changed the world of videogames, especially in the RPG genre! I was really into the story and it came out when my love of videogames was getting even bigger. And I had a huge crush on Sephiroth.”

If you and Andrea had to swap roles, who’d sing the other’s parts best? Rhiannon Clark, email

“Probably me, because they call me a parrot in the band; I like to imitate other people’s voices. I wouldn’t be as good as he is with growling, but I would definitely try my best to imitate him.”

Hammer: Is there ever a point, when you’re playing live and he’s singing, where you go “I wish I had this bit!”?

“I want to try growling, because I’ve never done it. I feel that, if I knew the technique, I’d be really good because I have a lot of volume on my diaphragm. There was one time in Atlanta where I had to sing the whole show because Andrea was in the hospital with a dislocated shoulder. We didn’t want to cancel the show. It was a lot of fun and extremely special, because I was singing those parts in a different way.”

Did it piss you off to be lumped in with the whole symphonic thing in the early 2000s and all the ‘female-fronted metal’ shit? Lexi Johnson, Facebook

“It doesn’t really piss me off, because I understand that many people don’t know the kind of music we play. If you say ‘female-fronted band’, they kind of have an idea of the music you’re playing, even if every band is different. What I hate is when they put you in one category: ‘OK, the girl is gonna sing this way.’ You don’t ask a guy: ‘Are you part of a male-fronted band?’ It’s not a genre; it’s an indication that there’s a female who sings. So, if you like female voices, you’ll like it, but it’s not a genre.”

Are there any people/artists you would like to collaborate with that you haven’t already? @Leonski700

“A million artists! But I’ve always liked Korn. I know Jonathan Davis as a person and he’s awesome, and I’ve always found his vocal lines very interesting. I like the way he writes, even when he’s alone and writing soundtracks. I love music that was written for movies and videogames. I get a lot of inspiration from soundtracks. So, there are many artists I’d love to collaborate with and Jonathan is definitely one of them.”

Hammer: What franchise soundtrack would you love to do?

“Final Fantasy, although I don’t know if I could do ‘proper’ music for it, because it’s very classical. I’d love to do something for an action series or movie. Not Marvel or DC, though – maybe something more like John Wick, and especially the villain parts.”

Are there any more Italian-language songs on the horizon? Comalies was so beautiful! @jennyalaking

“Not at the moment. We are writing new music and we just recorded for a special project. When we do write Italian parts, we don’t do it on purpose. For us, the sound of the words we’re singing is really important. Italian is perfect for traditional music, but if you use it in metal, it sounds weird.”

Hammer: What’s the special project? “We’re basically redoing Comalies from scratch. We wanted to celebrate its 20th anniversary but not in a nostalgic way. We were very against a remastered version. We asked: ‘How can we celebrate it while being fresh and modern?’, so we rewrote it as we would have written it in 2022. We’ve changed the music; most of the parts are completely different.”

You’re a tour guide in Milan for the day. What’s on the agenda? Joe Stile, email

“Definitely the Dome. It’s in the city centre, so it’s the first thing you see when you get out of the underground in Duomo. The view is stunning! It’s one of the most beautiful cathedrals you will ever see. Then I’d take them to eat panzerotti [a smaller version of calzone] at Luini. Everybody would be really impressed, because it’s really good. I’d also take them to [Leonardo Da Vinci’s painting] The Last Supper. We have the original in Milan, so that’d be cool. Then I’d take them out for a good pizza.”

Who are the king and queen of the goths? Alex Carr, Facebook

“Peter Steele and Siouxsie Sioux.”

As a former winner, should there be a future for magazine features like ‘Hottest Chicks in Metal’? Jo Fleischer, Facebook

“I’m honestly split. I hate when the image of a woman is completely sexualised, especially if there is talent behind her. But, at the same time, if you are in complete control of that sexualisation and you are the one deciding to present yourself in that way, it’s actually really empowering. There’s nothing wrong with liking yourself or feeling sexy and beautiful and showing it. Put it this way: in the music world, if being sexy is the only thing that you have to offer, that’s kind of sad.”

When was the last time you thought Lacuna Coil might break up? James Young, email

“It happened at the beginning of our career. Our first line-up split right after the first tour. Our EP wasn’t even out! That was the only time that I thought it could end. Marco [Coti Zelati, bass], Andrea and I decided to go on because we wanted to and the label [Century Media] asked us to. It never happened again. We’ve never had any doubts.”

Are you an Interista or a Milanista? @TimeTr4veller

“Are you really asking?! AC Milan! I Rossoneri forever!”

Who’s the metal band that should be way bigger than they are? Caren Poccok, email

“Twelve Foot Ninja. They remind me of Faith No More. I think they could be and should be much more popular.”

Would you ever consider a solo album? What would it sound like? Sam Petersson, Facebook

“Not at the moment. I think it would make sense if you could do something totally different to what you do in the band and, in Lacuna Coil, I am free to express myself. One day I will do it, but just to see if I’m actually able to put together something cool.”

What was your favourite Lacuna Coil record to make and why? Bindi Louise, Facebook

“I don’t have a favourite record, but maybe [2019’s] Black Anima, the last one; it’s fresher to my ears. I certainly know which one is my least favourite. It’s not because of the music or songwriting, but it’s [2016’s] Delirium. My life was a mess, with a lot of illness around me. If you want to look at the positives, it made the vibe of the record more intense, but it was very difficult to rehearse and record that album.”

What is your favourite Lacuna Coil song? So many to choose from! @Rustymoon88

“I’d say it’s between Veneficium [from Black Anima] and Blood, Tears, Dust [from Delirium]. I don’t have favourites, but they’re the ones that I’m enjoying on stage very much at the moment. You might as well be asking a mum to name their favourite son or daughter!”

What videogame are you most excited about that’s coming out?  Leianna Smith, email

“God Of War: Ragnarök. That is definitely the one that I am looking forward to. There’s a great collectors’ edition coming out in a few days with Mjölnir as well. I really hope that I’m going to be able to get it. I still regret that I didn’t get the Elden Ring collectors’ edition with the helmet. My boyfriend got it, so I said, ‘What do I need it for?’ Then I saw the helmet. Now I want one!”

[solarsunsimagines]

*MOVIE

Pairing:  Zach Herron x female!Reader

Warnings: SMUT  Request: Nope

MASTERLIST

——————————————————————————————————–

Zach and I were never that close, as Jonah was my older brother, I did have to socialize with him every once in a while, but nothing was helping us to form a unbreakable bond.

I had been staying with my brother, and the other guys) for the last three days, as it was summer, and honestly I just wanted to experience LA for a while, which my parents agreed to after talking to Jonah about sleeping arrangements and boundaries regarding the boys keeping their distance when need be. Of course I had also had the talk with my parents before I left, which was extremely awkward, and downright not needed. I understand how they would think that I would go rouge now that I'm technically unsupervised, but I wasn't planning on doing anything of the sort.

That was until I actually got here. The first thing I noticed was how clingy Zach got all of a sudden, almost everywhere I went, he was right there with me. Not to mention the constant flirting. While other people might find it annoying, I was someone who got attached to anyone who showed a little intrest, so I was crushing on Zach the moment he held my hand for the first time.

Right now the guys were having their annual game night, filled with snacks, drinks and a lot of rage fits. It was entertaining to say the least, but after about a million rounds of Jack falling off the edge in GTA races, he convinced everyone to watch a movie, which sent a stampede my way, as all the boys huddled on the couch. Jack was on my left, while Zach was on my right.

Jonah had chosen Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban as the choice of movie, and while everyone complained, we just went with it, as everyone was too lazy to change it. We all covered ourselves in blankets and got comfortable before starting the movie.

It must've been a few minutes in when I felt a hand on my upper thigh, causing me to whip my head toward the owner of said hand, Zach. Of course he never even batted an eyelid at my reaction, as he was intensely staring at the screen.

I didn't mind the action, so I just left his hand there, as I kinda enjoyed the sensation. It was slight, but every few minutes, I felt it go a little higher, it wasn't anything drastic, but he was definitely moving.

By the time the movie was 2/3 finished, his hand was so close to my area that I was ready to beg him to do something. Of course the thought of the guys literally sitting next to me never left my mind, but something about it made the whole ordeal more exciting.

I sucked in a breath as Zach slid his hand over my clothed area. He seemed to smirk at the action, from what I could see. He did this a few times, making me breathe deeply for a few minutes, anticipating what comes next.

He slid his hand down my Pyjama bottoms, and traces my area with one finger, as I suppress any noises wanting to escape.

"REMUS NO!" My brother screams when Remus turns into a werewolf. This loud noise makes Zach quickly remove his hand, and sit back like nothing ever happened.

All of us look at Jonah with angry expressions, but unbeknownst to the other guys, Zach and I were more pissed, for an entirely different reason.

For the rest of the movie, Zach doesn't try anything, he just sits back and eats some popcorn while enjoying the movie.

Eventually the film ends, making Jonah go straight upstairs, as he gets sad after watching Harry Potter (he's jealous of their magical abilities, and needs time to process). Leaving each of the boys to break off one by one, and head to their rooms.

Surprisingly Zach was the first one to leave after Jonah, not only making me quite confused, but also extremely disappointed. Corbyn, and daniel left at the same time, leaving Jack and I alone.

I was on my phone when Jack ripped it out of my hand, making me look at him with a hurt expression.

"Heyyyy!" I whine, hoping he'll give it back soon.

"Shhhh, and listen. Zach's waiting for you upstairs. I didn't wanna say anything to the guys because then you would have to explain, but you're really bad at keeping those things quiet. Just have fun and use protection okay?" He hands me my phone and walks upstairs, leaving me completely shocked and embarrassed.

I stand up and walk upstairs, debating my opinions for the situation that I've been put into. Although my mind seemed to not be made up, my body definitely knew what I wanted, as I soon found myself outside of Zach's door, knocking quietly.

He opens the door with a slight smirk, probably already knowing that I would've showed up. He leans against the door and tilts his head.

"What are you doing here, baby Marais?" He teases. For an unknown reason this sentence makes me snap, as I push him into the room and lock the door behind us, before turning back to see Zach with a smirk plastered across his face.

"Wipe that smirk off your face." I say threateningly, trying to not let him have control over me, due to the fact that he initiated this entire thing.

"Why would I do that, clearly I have something to smirk about?"

"And what would that be?" I say sarcastically, already knowing he was thinking about the events that were about to take place.

"The fact that after 5 years of having a crush on Jonah's sister, I finally get to fuck her." His dirty words send tingles up and down my body.

"Who says that was going to happen?" I cross my arms as I challenge him.

"I did."

He leans down and smashes his lips onto mine, as I uncross my arms and place them on his chest as he pulls me closer. He trails his way from my lips to my collar bones, with tiny kisses being placed on every inch.

"Do I have your permission to do what I want?" He whispers in my ear, before pulling back to look at me in my eyes. I quickly nod, making him smile widely, as he takes my lips in his.

He goes back to kissing down my neck, but quickly switches his interests as he tells me to lift my arms, which I do as quickly as possible. He slides my slightly oversized shirt over my head, and throws it to the ground. The room suddenly felt incredibly hot, but instead of being uncomfortable, it brought a sense of calmness to the situation at hand.

In a few short minutes in Zach's room, and I'm now completely undressed with him kissing me, as he stands in only his sweatpants.

He pulls away from me, looking me in my eyes.

"Go lay on the bed." He commands, making my adrenaline pump even quicker.

I make my way over to the bed and lay on the edge of it, waiting for my further instructions. Although he was standing in the same spot, I knew his eyes were fixed on me.

He makes his way to the small speaker in the corner of his room, and puts on some soft music, to set the mood.

After a few seconds of fiddling with the sound buttons, he walks over to the bed and tilts my head up with a single finger, before giving me a quick kiss.

"Lay back, and put your legs over my shoulders." I do exactly as I'm told, not wanting to potentially ruin what Was going to happen. He bends down, almost in line with my area, as he looks up at me, as I sit on my elbows, wanting to see what he was doing.

He winks at me and gives one bold lick to my slit, making me moan out quite loudly. Zach sends vibrations through my core as he chuckles, and detaches himself from me.

"Unless you want to be caught, I suggest you try be quiet." I nod silently, making him delve right back to making me feel good. He swipes his tongue across my entrance a few times before focusing plainly on the knob of nerves that was surely going to bring me over the edge in a second.

He swirls his tongue around the nub, sucking every so often, as I claw the sheets, trying to find something to grab onto, while he works his magic.

Zach must've noticed my desperate clawing, as he soon grabs my hands, and intertwines our fingers, finally giving me some kid of relief in a situation so overstimulating.

Suddenly he let go of my left hand, making me look at him, he looks up at me, but continues his assault of my clit.

I keep staring at him, not able to take my eyes off of his. I feel him smile slightly at me, before I feel a pressure at my entrance, making me inhale deeply, as I fling my head back onto the bed.

His long finger traces my insides as I cover my mouth with my free hand, trying not to moan at all the sensations.

He kept pumping in and out with his middle finger, and although I was definitely reacting to his actions, he obviously wasn't satisfied enough with my sounds, as he added in another finger, making me moan loudly, although some of the noise was blocked out by my hand.

He kept massaging inside of me, until finally I gave him the reaction he wanted, when he found my g-spot. I gasp loudly, tightening around his fingers, urging him to go faster and harder with his actions.

"Zach!" I slip out, as he sucks harder then he has before, all while massaging that certain spot, making me go off the edge. He smirks as he cleans me off. He removes his fingers and licks them clean, before getting off the floor, and focusing on me, as I currently lay on his bed, completely drained.

"Feeling okay?" He chuckles, as I struggle to keep my eyes open.

"I feel amazing." My voice comes out as a whisper.

"I'm glad, but we have to get you dressed." He runs his finger up and down my chest, not at all helping my sleepy situation. "Come on." He jumps off the bed and reaches out a hand.

I look up and him and whine, making it known that I never want to leave the bed. He smiles, and grabs my hands, before yanking me up, and hoisting me on his shoulder.

"Zach! Put me down!" He quickly puts me down, as he hovers above me.

"I'm staring to thing you want to be caught." He smirks, making me go red. "Now go pee, then we'll go to bed."

He turns around to start making the bed for us to sleep in, as I walk into his bathroom, to clean myself up, and get dressed into the clothes he had so kindly put in here before I even came to his room.

Once I'm dressed and presentable, I make my way out of his bathroom to find Zach scrolling through his phone. As soon as he notices my presence, he opens his arms for me. I make my way over and lay down next to him, cuddled up, for the first time since I've known him.

"So I was thinking..." he says slowly. "Maybe I could take you out some time?" He looks down at me, laying on his chest.

"I would love that." I smile up at him.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, making me giggle.

"Of course you can." He leans down and places his lips on mine.

The rest of the night we sleep in each other's arms, as we imagine what the next few days will be like, as we begin to blossom a hopefully wonderful relationship with each other.

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 66: Bond

There was a certain bond that formed between two people when all of your friends were paired off and dating someone. When the two of you were the only single people so you got paired off to share food, and be partners in games, and all other manner of things.

Harry supposed that tonight would be just one more of those nights as he arrived at Ginny and Luna's. And he wasn't complaining (not anymore, at least) it had taken a couple of years but he and Draco had warmed up to each other. They had compatible styles for partner games, Draco always gave Harry any treats with nuts and Harry gave him any treats with mint, and Harry genuinely enjoyed his dry sense of humor.

If he was being honest, he'd started looking forward to all of the time that he got to spend with Draco on Friday nights.

But things felt different the moment he entered the house, even though he couldn't quite put his finger on why. He spotted Ginny first, standing against the counter, pouring a couple glasses of wine, "Hey," he called.

She looked up and bit her lip.

"What?" he asked with no small amount of dread. He knew that look; it was the look she'd given him right before she'd told him she might be gay and in love with Luna, a look that said she was afraid of breaking his heart.

Ginny opened her mouth but no words came out.

"Ginny, what?" he said, taking several steps toward her.

"I don't know how to say thi-"

"Oh, good," he heard Draco say from behind him, "You're here."

His mouth stretched into a grin even before he turned around "He-" he broke off when he saw that Draco was standing with his arm around some bloke who Harry had never met before. "Hey," he finished.

"This is Matt," Draco offered.

And frankly, Harry would rather die (again) than shake his hand but before he could have any say in the matter Matt had stepped forward into his space and was gripping his hand. Hard. "The Harry Potter," he drawled. "My, my."

(Read more below the cut)

Harry glanced over at Draco who looked vaguely uncomfortable.

"Draco has told me so much about you. I could hardly believe that he was telling the truth." He leaned toward Harry conspiratorially, "He's known for embellishing the truth, you know?"

Harry wrenched his hand from Matt's grip, "Actually, I've found Draco to be honest to a fault. Hardly anyone else will tell me when my outfit doesn't match or I've got something stuck in my teeth."

Matt's eyes flashed and Harry's proverbial hackles stood on end he didn't like that look, "I-" Matt started

"Hey," Draco said, taking Matt's hand and drawing his attention, "Let me introduce you to everyone else."

"Nice meeting you, Mark," Harry called.

Draco narrowed his eyes at him, "Matt," he corrected, before mouthing, 'behave' at Harry.

"My mistake," Harry said, maintaining eye contact with the other man until he turned away and followed Draco into the other room.

"Okay," Ginny said, drawing his attention away from them, "First. Men are disgusting; I can't believe I thought I was attracted to them for so long."

"What?" he asked, slumping over to the counter and sliding onto a stool across from where Ginny was still mixing up drinks. He was feeling a little nauseous, fire rushing under his skin.

"That," she said, gesturing to where Harry had been standing talking to Matt and Draco, "The little pissing match to decide who's dominant."

"What?" Harry asked, "that guy is just an asshole."

She rolled her eyes, "Second, you're still an idiot."

"Wow. I'm just going to go home," he said. "Between you and the dude who was trying to break my fingers, I don't think it's going to be a great night."

Ginny leaned across the counter and instinctively Harry leaned toward her, "How long are you going to continue denying you have feelings for Draco?"

His brow furrowed, "I don't. We're just mates," he added.

"I rest my case. You're still an idiot," she said as she leaned back and started mixing drinks again.

Harry slouched on his stool turning that thought over in his mind, "That actually would make sense," he admitted.

"Harry, I love you, you know I do," she said. "But honestly, I can't believe you're just figuring this out. The rest of us have known for ages. We were all shocked when he walked through the door with Matt; he told us he was bringing someone but we thought the two of you were just making a joke."

"Well now what am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Why couldn't anyone have said something sooner?"

"Because we thought it was obvious," she hissed.

"Let's just get through the night," he sighed. "Then we'll deal with the rest. We'll need to come up with a plan."

-----------

He spent the rest of the night calling Matt the wrong name (Miles, Maurice, Mike, Max, Moses, Mitch, Mason) to the point that Ron either caught on and decided to help or got confused enough that he started calling him the wrong name, too. Harry also couldn't help but rub it in Matt's face how much better he knew Draco; telling inside jokes, asking Draco specific questions about his work and his parents, and reminiscing about fond memories.

Draco seemed a bit exasperated by it but Harry couldn't help himself. Once he started, he just couldn't seem to stop.

Eventually as everyone was getting ready to leave and Luna was saying good bye to Matt, Draco cornered him, "Do not move a fucking muscle," he hissed, "I am not done with you."

"Dra-"

"I mean it, Potter. Stay right here," he said, jabbing him in the chest with his finger before he turned and made his way over to his date.

"Hey," Matt said, smiling at him much the way Harry imagined an alligator might smile at his prey.

"Hi," Draco replied softly. "I'll floo you tomorrow, yeah? There are a few things I need to take care of."

Matt frowned, "I thought we were going back to my place."

"No," Draco replied steadily. "I have a five date rule." He stepped back, "I'll floo you," he repeated.

And Matt looked pretty pissed about it, but he seemed to take the hint and disapparated on the spot without so much as a goodbye to anyone.

"You're all the literal worst," Draco fumed. "Except you, Luna," he added. "You're a goddess."

Luna gave a little curtsy.

"Seriously," Draco said, glaring at the room even though none of them looked especially repentant. "And you," he spat, spinning to glare at Harry, "You're the worst of all."

"Does that make me special?" Harry quipped, arms folded across his chest.

Draco groaned, "Bloody fucking Griffyndors. I hope you're all happy," he grabbed Harry's arm. "Come on we are going back to mine to have a chat."

"I thought you had a five date rule," Ginny called.

Draco flipped her the two finger salute before apparating them to his house.

Harry always liked being in Draco's house; it was small and cozy, and it always smelled vaguely like chamomile. Just being here made his soul feel lighter, calmer.

"Alright," Draco growled, "Spill. What the hell was that?"

"What?" Harry asked innocently.

"Potter," he warned.

Harry sighed, "He's an asshole."

"And you know that how? You didn't even give him a chance".

"Draco his handshake was like a vice!"

Draco stared at him, "You've got to be kidding me. Are you that much of a child? He hurt your hand so you thought you should bully him?"

"I didn't bully him!" Harry exclaimed.

"No?" Draco asked. "You didn't use his given name even once." Harry winced, maybe that was overkill. "You spent the entire night trying to make him feel stupid and inferior to you. Which, let's face it, everyone does anyway because you're Harry fucking Potter!" Draco exploded.

"That's not fair," Harry said, betrayal slicing hot through his gut. Draco knew that he hated being famous, hated the preconceived notions attached to his name.

"Yeah well, neither was what you did."

"Draco, I-"

"No," he said, holding out a hand, "That was such bullshit, Harry."

"But he's awful."

"You didn't even give him a cha-"

"I didn't have to!" he exploded. "The first words he said to me were to disrespect you. He's an asshole and I will chase a million of them away from you."

"That's not your job."

Harry threw his hands up in the air, "I'm your best friend! Whose job is it, if it's not mine?"

"You don't just get to decide things for me!" Draco cried.

"Fine," Harry spat. "You want to date that wanker, go ahead. But I have seen his type before. Don't come crying to me when he's beaten you to a bloody pulp for looking at someone the wrong way." He pushed past Draco and made his way to the door, walking out and slamming it behind him.

He started down the sidewalk, debating trying to figure out where Matt lived and have a chat or maybe go over to Ron and Hermione's to get some advice and regroup.

But the further he walked, the more the anger faded from his veins, and the guilt settled in.

There was no choice really, he turned around and headed back to Draco's house once more. When he arrived he knocked on the door even though he normally would have just let himself in.

"Go away!" Draco shouted.

He knocked again, "Draco, please."

"No! Go away. You're the worst."

"I know," he called back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Please."

After a few seconds, during which fear settled heaving in Harry's gut, the door opened and Harry slipped inside, Draco was curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest.

Seeing him looking so small and sad made Harry ache. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said that."

"Which part?" Draco asked bitterly.

He sighed and came over to sit on the couch beside Draco, "I'm not sorry for chasing him away. But I will always be here for you, no matter what. You can always come to me."

Draco leaned over and put his head on Harry's shoulder, "I know," he whispered.

"Forgive me?"

He nodded and they sat together in silence for a few minutes, both trying to collect their thoughts. Eventually Harry said, "I really wish you wouldn't date him."

Draco sat up, "Harry look at me."

Harry turned on the couch to look at him and raised his eyebrows.

"I won't ever floo call him, we'll never go on another date, and I'll never see him again." Something eased in Harry's chest. "But it's not because of what you said or did. It's because I, too, have had shitty relationships. I have also lived through trauma and I have had to learn from it just like you."

Harry looked down at his hands.

"And if you have concerns about someone, there is a better way to tell me than what you did tonight."

He nodded, suitably chastised, "You're right."

"I appreciate your concern, though," he added and Harry looked up to see that Draco's mouth was quirked up, he really must be forgiven, apparently. "And I genuinely forgot how petty you can be."

He shook his head and reached out for Draco's hand, "Draco, I want you to be so, so happy," he said. Then he added, "I'm an idiot."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"And everyone knows it, you included, so you can't really hold it against me," he said.

"I'm pretty sure I can."

He huffed, "Just hear me out. I'm an idiot and I didn't realize until tonight that I'm a little bit in love with you. And it's fine if you don't feel the same but you are my best friend and I had high standards for you even before I knew I had feelings for you. It hurt me to see you with someone who treated you so poorly."

"Sorry," Draco said, "I need you to repeat that."

"I said, I'm an idiot," Harry started.

"Not that part."

"It hurt me to see you with someone who treated y-"

"Not that part either," Draco said.

Harry swallowed, "It's fine if you don't fee-"

"Harry," he grumbled. "Say the other part."

He rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm in love with you," he whispered.

Draco blinked at him, a smile blooming at the corner of his mouth, "Say it again."

A grin tipped up the corners of his mouth as well, "I'm in love with you."

Draco launched himself into Harry's arms and covered Harry's lips with his own, "say it again," he mumbled into the kiss.

"I love you," Harry repeated, murmuring the words into Draco's mouth.

Draco pulled back slightly, "I love you, too."

"I hoped that was the case," Harry replied.

After he kissed him again, Draco said, "Alright, fine. Now you get a say in who I date."

Harry grinned, "Is that so?"

He nodded.

"Will you date me, Draco Malfoy?" he asked, brushing his nose along Draco's.

"Yes," he whispered. Then with a smirk he added, "But we'll have to get my best friend's approval and rumor has it that he has very high standards."

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

Day 65: Question | Day 67: Soulmate (Take 1)- Your traditional soulmate trope or Day 67: Soulmate (Take 2)- just using the word 'soulmate' as a prompt, not the trope.

[inkskinned]

i unwittingly play a game with myself. i like to problem-solve, after all. for every piece of news that pisses me off, i find myself mulling over another solution america could have taken to covid. another way that we could have excelled at community.

we could have made the mask conversation under an american brand. cowboy up! it would be fun, a return to the heroism of essential workers, a moment of “pride” for everyone else. who doesn’t like pretending to be a cowboy. 

“it’s my right,” a man says to me, not wearing a mask. I am just standing in line outside of trader joes. i don’t even work here. you have to wear shoes and a shirt inside, too, i say. he ignores this to continue to yell at me. “the founding fathers would be fucking horrified by this p.c culture. i will wear what i want, this is america.” i tell him i have to wear specific clothes to go to work or i will be fired. he says, “this is different” but doesn’t have an explanation.

nevermind about the cowboy thing, i decide. too many nationalists. what if we made prizes? we could help rural communities get extra funding - like box tops, maybe? have fun little news stories about this week’s most successful american city. maybe everyone gets free ice cream. 

my stimulus check never comes in the mail. i don’t think it’s coming at all, probably. i start considering selling my own hair for an extra buck. i get my free birthday starbucks and sit in the car, silently, staring at it, knowing it is free but feeling guilty anyway. seven dollars for coffee! that’s a whole day of eating, if i was careful. wine-drunk, i confess the last “nice” thing i bought myself was actually to help me get work done. i watch bezos smile on camera while passing another one-billion mark. 

ice cream is fine, but in between faster testing and solidarity, don’t we really need companies working together for a cure? the thing is that when everyone works together, we get to skip making the same mistakes over and over again. here’s the solution, maybe. if you’re a researcher who shares your work on covid, you don’t pay taxes for this year! i’ll give that to you. no taxes! you’re probably not paying them anyway, but this way it’s legal! or something. make it a badge of honor to be sharing your work. make you citizen of the year.

the latest solution is one thousand dollars. i click the article about the man who, having survived corona, now faces over a million dollars in medical fees. my epipen hasn’t been renewed in years because i haven’t been able to scrounge up the six hundred dollars. people in the white house get tested all the time. the president suggests we drink more sunshine. i carry the idea with me for a while; as a poet it tastes so bitter. the bleach will kill the unseen enemy. 

that’s another thing. americans have been trained to hate. we are taught one specific face for one specific problem. it’s us-versus-them, always has been. and covid is faceless. covid is something any of us can get; although i’m sure people are blaming marginalized communities again. i bet. so instead we make a face for it - a screaming, angry, uncovered face. you want your villain? that’s sally without-her-mask. that’s henry doesn’t-wash-his-hands. make ignoring science ugly again. ew, yucky! unamerican. cringe compilations.

marginalized communities are effected more than anyone else. i am sewing a hole closed in my face mask so i can go to a protest. afterwards, my ears ring for an hour. i close my eyes and think of the liberty bell, and how it is cracked, and how i don’t know how it would sound. trump holds up a bible in front of a church i don’t believe he’s ever attended. 

oh!  what if we just fucking paid people. what if we paid people to stay home. what if we gave kids scholarships for making online resources, if we had “write a jingle to wash your hands to!” contests where the winner gets one of the extra yachts sitting unused in harbors. what if we said - if you’re an essential worker, you’re getting hazard pay, across the board, no compromising. what if we gave everyone free healthcare and food money. what if we treated it like an enduring plague and not a personal choice or a weird, soon-over misunderstanding. what if we stopped just waiting for it to “go away” and instead did the work to make it actually go away. what if, instead of crafting conspiracy theories, we understood the incompetence of the government. what if we actually had a better president.

i open another article. trump has retweeted someone who believes we can banish the virus if we simply stop sleeping with succubi. i google how to know if i am a succubus or have slept with a succubus recently (results inconclusive). i wear my mask. i socially distance. i play, over and over, the game of what-if.

[honeypiehotchner]

illicit affairs (Spencer Reid one-shot)

This is wayyy overdue! It’s just been sitting in my drafts, waiting for me to edit her, but she’s finally here. This is very loosely based on Taylor Swift’s song of the same title. And it’s 100% me writing out some feelings through fanfiction, so it’s also loosely based on true events. Enjoy!

Summary: You and Spencer have been “dating” without a label for a few months now, until you witness something that has you wondering if it was too good to be true (as always).

Warnings: it’s so dramatic. Angst with a happy ending!

Spencer has no fucking clue what he did.

Well, to be more accurate, Spencer has no idea if he even did anything at all.

One second the two of you were acting as normal as ever, attached at the hip and nothing less, and the next you’re barely able to look at him. You won’t speak to him, you insist you’re fine, and you ask him to leave you alone -- please.

A new case comes and he thinks things will fall back into their rightful place. He expects you to sit with him on the plane, but you choose the farthest seat away from him. He expects you’ll be paired with him when he says he’ll go to the local station to work on victimology, but instead you agree to Morgan’s offer to look at the crime scene.

He’s desperate. He’s a so-called genius, and he’s losing his mind.

“Morgan, help me out here, man,” Spencer pleads, cornering Morgan when he’s getting a coffee. He’s just returned from the crime scene with you, but of course, you’ve ducked away from Spencer.

Derek’s eyebrows raise. Slowly, he turns around, eyeing the desperate genius. “You’re asking for my advice?”

“She won’t talk to me,” Spencer whispers, eyes cutting to you, but only for a second. He doesn’t want you to think he’s creepily staring at you all the time. So far, you haven’t caught him (that he knows of).

“Well, what did you do?” Morgan asks like the answer should be blatantly obvious.

“I don’t know!”

“Alright, let me rephrase that for you,” Morgan’s tone is bordering on teasing, but he can’t help it. The resident genius of the BAU is having trouble talking to a woman. Who knew? “Have you done anything that would lead her to believe you’re not interested in her anymore?”

“What? No!”

“Think, Reid,” Morgan replies, tipping his cup of coffee in the air. “And when you figure it out, apologize.”

He leaves without another word. Morgan joins you and Emily back in the room where the team has set up base. You share a particularly heated look with Morgan, but he shakes his head, letting you know he didn’t betray your confidence. You relax.

Spencer doesn’t know this, but earlier when you were riding with Morgan to the crime scene, you confided in him.

It had been completely accidental. Something about car rides brings out the need to ask for advice. Maybe it’s the fact that there’s the road to focus on, or the case to segway into, you don’t know. But what you do know, is that when you confided in Morgan, he shook his head, and called Spencer a dumbass.

“Hypothetically,” you had begun, and Morgan remembers wondering if you were going to talk about the case, but you didn’t. “If you’ve been talking-- flirting with a guy and going on a few dates over the past few months -- but there’s no label -- but so if you’ve been doing all this and then you suddenly see him outside his apartment hugging another woman -- like arms around her waist kind of deal, face in her neck...what does that mean?”

Morgan had nearly slammed on the brakes. Reid? A two-timer? He never would’ve guessed. The kid could barely get his words out when he first met you, and now he’s playing you?

“Well, hypothetically,” Morgan played into your game. “I’d be suspicious. Personally, I don’t just hug any woman like that if I don’t have other intentions,” he shook his head. What you’re describing is intimate, especially for Reid. “You’re right to think something else is going on.”

“Who said it was about me?”

Morgan looked at you with his usual knowing stare. Sometimes you forget you’re all profilers. You’ve made deals not to profile one another, but you’re sure it still happens. You all have another silence agreement to never voice it aloud, unless needed.

“Fine,” you caved, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know, I just-- I was going to drop off his stupid jacket that he left in my car the night before, and I saw him hugging her right on his doorstep and she kissed his cheek and I just-- I bolted. I don’t know.” You had let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought he was different.”

“If it helps,” Morgan shrugged, “I’ll kick his ass.” He might protect Reid like a mother hen, but he’s not afraid to give him a hard time, either.

“No, no, don’t,” you groaned. “I’m just gonna keep my distance. No sense in putting effort into something that clearly is never going to happen.”

“Oh, come on, don’t talk like that,” Morgan said. You used to talk that way all the time when you first started at the BAU, but it slowly died out the more you hung out with Spencer. Morgan connected the dots, but never told you.

“You know I’ve never been in a relationship?”

This time, Morgan did slam on the brakes.

“What?”

“Never,” you shook your head, motioning for him to keep driving. “Not one. They all fall through. I started thinking something was wrong with me, you know?” Morgan gave you another look, his sad, big brother one this time. “But then Spencer and I started getting closer, he took me on what I thought, I guess, were a couple of dates. I mean, he paid and drove and walked me to my door and all that cute shit. That’s a date, right? I mean, he never kissed me on the lips, but it’s Spencer.” You didn’t even look to see Morgan’s reaction, but he was nodding. “I started to think maybe it was never me, maybe it was the guys--”

“It was the guys,” Morgan argued. “Alright? You’re amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you. It would be a damn honor. Don’t let that head of yours convince you otherwise.”

You shook your head, the crime scene rapidly approaching. “I’m not so sure anymore.”

You were out of the car and introducing yourself to the police on the scene before Morgan could even blink.

Morgan can only hope Reid had a good reason for having a woman at his door and hugging her, and letting her kiss his cheek. Reid doesn’t give hugs to just anyone, let alone accept a kiss, so whoever it was, obviously she was more than a friend.

The thought of Reid being a player makes Morgan smile. On the one hand, he’s a little bit proud. On the other, he’s pissed. It’s one thing to have one night stands with women who are into that sort of thing, but it’s another to drag someone along -- someone like you, someone who is too good, who deserves better than that.

Morgan had thought about telling you to just talk to Spencer, in hopes that there was a good reason for what you saw, but you’ve made it painfully clear over the past two weeks that you’d rather keep your distance instead.

So, he lets you. He can’t say that he blames you, really. Not after what you told him. He can only hope Spencer will figure this one out before it’s too late.

+++

After the case is closed and you’re back home, you immediately head for the shower. Cases are exhausting enough, but avoiding Spencer made it worse. Going from being attached at the hip to trying to be anywhere except in the same room as him took a toll on you. Not to mention, dodging everyone else’s worried looks. Morgan is the only one you’ve confided in, but that hasn’t stopped Hotch, Emily, JJ, and even Garcia from constantly asking if you’re alright.

Once you’re finished showering and in your pajamas, you head back to the living area. Spencer’s forgotten cardigan lays on the arm of your couch, lonely.

You know you shouldn’t, but you shrug it on anyway. No harm in wearing it. Not like he misses it. He probably has a hundred others.

You head to the kitchen to make yourself some tea, hoping it’ll soothe your nerves and help you drift off to sleep before your mind has the time to make you think of Spencer.

Too late.

Sighing heavily, you place the kettle on the stove. You hum a song while you’re at it, knowing that you’re being endlessly dramatic.

It’s not like you had sex with Spencer. Hell, the most the two of you did was hold hands and you kissed his cheek. He kissed your head once, though you think it was an accident.

Still, there was never a label. Why are you so upset?

Don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby/Look at this idiotic fool that you made me

It’s stupid, really, how hung up you are over this. A few dates don’t exactly mean anything at all. Flirting nowadays can mean nothing, too. You don’t understand any of it.

You cup your cheek gently, foolishly wondering what it would feel like if Spencer’s hand was there instead -- maybe even as he kissed you, but you don’t want to get too carried away. It’s not like anything will ever happen now.

And you know damn well/for you I would ruin myself/a million little times

Maybe you just need more time. This was the first time in a long time that you had let your guard down, let yourself go on dates. So many times it had all gone wrong, so you closed yourself off and focused on your career. You thought since you were stable at the BAU that now it was okay.

You thought Spencer -- Spencer Reid, of all people, you really thought he would’ve been different.

Maybe it’s just your type. Maybe that’s who you attract. The men who don’t want anything serious and never will. They’re stuck in Peter Pan mode. You must be Wendy. It must be a curse.

The kettle boils and you cut the burner off, fixing your tea.

You’re just walking back to the living room when there’s a knock on your door. You freeze, your panicked mind expecting the absolute worst, until you hear Spencer’s voice.

“Y/N?” He calls out. “It’s Spencer-- You probably knew that already.”

You smile into your tea, but you make no move for the door. You want-- no, you ache to let him inside, but you know it’s a bad idea. He’s probably here to ask if you’re alright, and you don’t have the energy to answer him. He’s probably going to go back to his girlfriend after this. You really don’t know that you can handle a face-to-face rejection.

“Y/N, please,” Spencer says again, pleading. He knocks once more, quietly. “I see lights are on, so I’m just going to...assume you can hear me.”

You walk a step closer. You don’t want to let him inside, but maybe you can listen. That won’t be too bad, right?

“Y/N, I’m...I’m sorry.”

Oh, tears. Stupid, stupid tears. You wipe them on the sleeve of his cardigan, glad that they’re at least falling quietly right now.

“I don’t know what I did, but I’m...I’m just sorry and I miss you and it’s killing me that you won’t even look at me. I…” Spencer pauses, and you walk closer, biting on the sleeve to keep from letting out a sob. “I’m sorry, I don’t… Please, just tell me what I did.”

You press your back to the door, sliding down until you hit the floor. You keep your knees against your chest and set the mug of tea down next to you. The noise causes Spencer’s ears to perk up.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

“Yeah, Spencer,” you barely speak loud enough for him to hear. “It’s me.”

“Please, tell me what I did,” he pleads, voice breaking. Is he crying, too? “I don’t know what it was, but I’ll fix it. Or I’ll try-- Please, let me try.”

“Spencer…” You sigh, tears falling down your cheeks with no restraint. “Be honest with me, are you seeing someone else?” You pause, choking on a sob. So many times you’ve had this conversation, the rejection, finding out you weren’t the one they wanted. Too many times. But none of them ever hurt this bad. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” Spencer nearly falls over. Why on earth would you think that? “What are you talking about? Of course not.”

“Don’t lie to me, please,” you groan, pressing your hand to your forehead. This is pathetic. You shouldn’t be showing him how upset you are. And through a door, no less. Can you get any more dramatic?

“What are you talking about?”

“I was at your apartment, Spencer,” you mutter, wiping angrily at your cheeks. “I went to drop off this stupid cardigan of yours and you-- You were hugging a woman outside your door and I saw it and I saw her kiss you--”

You cut yourself off, choking on another sob, and Spencer sighs. He understands now.

“Open the door. Please,” he says.

“Why?” You reply quietly. “If you’re just going to reject me, please, just do it through the door.” The last thing you want is for him to see you like this when he tells you he’s seeing someone else, that he didn’t even know you liked him, and so on.

“I’m not rejecting you,” he says softly. “Please.”

You know it’s a bad idea, but how much worse can things get?

You stand to your feet and open the door, careful of the mug of tea on the floor. Spencer’s heart drops at the sight of you. Tear stains on your cheeks, red eyes, your quivering lip as you try to hold things together, and...his cardigan hanging off your shoulders. Somehow the last tops it all off, sends a strike of pain right to his heart.

You wipe some more tears away with the sleeve, motioning for him to start talking. “Go on.”

“She’s an old friend. We did kiss before, once. But she’s not my girlfriend. She was in town and wanted to stop by to tell me she’s getting married...to her girlfriend of three years.”

You nod slowly. For some reason, that doesn’t even make you feel better. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Spencer asks, hopeful tone and all. “Are we okay?”

“What are we, Spencer?” You ask, eyes still watering. “I can’t keep going on the way we were going, you know? It’s agonizing, I just want to know what’s going on in your head.”

Spencer smiles softly. “I want you to...to be my girlfriend.”

Your ears are deceiving you. They must be. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I thought it was obvious,” he chuckles. “That’s one of the things I talked to her about -- her name’s Jess. She invited me-- us to the wedding. I was gonna ask you to be my girlfriend-- I still want to, I mean, if you’ll have me.”

More tears spring to your eyes and Spencer’s heart jumps, thinking he did something completely wrong.

“What happened? Did I say something?”

“No,” you shake your head. “God.” You wipe at your cheeks before turning and retreating back into your apartment. Spencer has no choice but to follow you.

He spots your mug of tea and places it on the coffee table as he shuts your front door gently with his foot.

“I’m so...stupid,” you mutter, jumping when you see he’s followed you inside. He’s not unwelcome here by any means, you’re just an idiot. A huge idiot.

“You’re not stupid,” he argues. “I wish you would’ve talked to me.”

“Would you believe me if I told you this has happened to me before?” You murmur pathetically, propping your body against the arm of your couch.

Spencer’s heart breaks more. You won’t look at him again.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, clasping your hands together, fighting the shakes. “I should’ve talked to you, I just-- This has happened before and those times it was… Well, you know.” You finally look up at him, tears falling. “The first time the guy didn’t even try hiding it. The second one did, but not very well because I still found out. The third wasn’t even aware that he was flirting with me, I guess. I don’t know how you can take someone on dates for months and not be aware, but he said he wasn’t.” You pause, looking away again. “I just saw a pattern and I freaked out and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispers, even though you still feel like it’s not.

You shake your head.

“Y/N, it is,” he presses on. “I should’ve...talked to you about how I’m feeling, but I was scared. You’re the first girl that’s-- I don’t know, liked me for me, I guess. Dorkiness and all.”

You chuckle, and Spencer nearly grins. He got a laugh. That’s something.

“How about we both make a deal to communicate better?” He offers. You nod, so he keeps going. “I’ll go first. I really want you to be my girlfriend.”

You can’t help but smile now, all dumb and trying to hide it in the sleeve of his cardigan. “I’d really love to be your girlfriend.”

“Yeah?” He asks, almost like he wasn’t even expecting you to agree, but you nod, confirming it for his genius brain.

The kiss the two of you share is a long time coming. It’s gentle and warm, relaxing your muscles and easing the tension you’ve held in them for the past two weeks. Spencer gathers you in his arms, keeping you close, with zero intent of ever letting you go.

+++

When you walk into the BAU the next morning, you are painfully reminded that you are surrounded by the best profilers in the country.

It’s no secret that you and Spencer have been “dating” for a while, but you never showed PDA -- partly because the two of you were fumbling around your true feelings, and partly because you’re not too sure how relationships stand with protocol here.

Apparently, despite coming in fifteen minutes apart from one another, everyone can see right through you both.

Morgan is the first to say something. He catches you when the elevator doors open and you have Spencer’s cardigan hanging over your shoulders. In your defense, Spencer forgot to grab it when he left your house sometime this morning, so you were just trying to return it -- again.

“Late night?” Morgan raised his eyebrows.

Realizing your mistake, your eyes widen. “Shut up.” You step off the elevator and point a threatening finger in his face. “Not a word.”

Morgan’s hands raise in surrender, but he still has that goddamn smile on his face. “Might wanna take off that cardigan, sweetheart. You’re too obvious.”

Angrily, you shrug it off and walk into the bullpen.

Spencer is at his desk, so you shove his cardigan into his chest. “You forgot this.”

Upon seeing that it’s you, Spencer’s lips stretch into a grin. “Thanks.” He pauses, folding the cardigan over his arm. “I was kind of hoping you’d keep it,” he whispers, eyes darting around to be sure no one is listening. “It looks better on you, anyway.”

You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek. “Give it to me tonight, then,” you wink, earning a light blush on Spencer’s cheeks.

Hotch watches this encounter from the railing and smiles. He’s sure neither of you will do anything to warrant him giving you a stern talk about relationships and work, so he won’t mention anything for now.

Instead, he retreats back into his office, glad you’ve finally gotten over yourselves.

Garcia catches on when you come to visit her in her office only to find Spencer already standing there. He’s animatedly talking about Doctor Who, but stops abruptly when he sees you. It doesn’t take a profiler to understand the glances, the smiles, and awkward goodbyes that were shared so you could ask Garcia a question.

Prentiss is just glad the two of you will look at one another again, but the way you keep glancing over her shoulder to see Spencer is more than obvious. It’s so obvious that Prentiss and JJ share a knowing look, but say nothing. They should’ve placed bets.

You and Spencer catch each other’s eyes more than a dozen times every hour, and he follows you to the break room to conveniently get a coffee at the same time as you.

Yeah, you’re not being obvious at all.

Neither of you notice that the team has caught on, so you take your chances when you find yourselves alone in the break room. You can practically hear the conversations the rest of the team is having out in the bullpen, so you let Spencer pull you into his arms, his chin resting on top of your head.

This is a lot for Spencer, and you too, if you’re honest. Hugs are something you never found yourself enjoying, but when you’re tucked into Spencer’s chest, you never want to leave.

You’re both too busy holding one another to hear Hotch’s footsteps as he enters the room. The clearing of his throat is what finally breaks the two of you apart.

“Agent Hotchner,” you blurt, straightening yourself and taking one too many steps away from Reid.

Hotch smirks. You haven’t called him that since your first day. “New case. Looks like a short one. Conference room in five minutes.”

And he leaves as quick as he came, chuckling under his breath.

You and Spencer share a look before dissolving into laughter and fixing your coffee. You don’t try to walk out of the break room separately, knowing that there’s no use.

Especially not when you get cold on your way to the conference room, and Spencer promptly wraps you in his cardigan.