#the way things ended have him very weary to enter any kind of relationship again

[beachyserasims]

Geneva Island Legacy┃Chapter six┃Outta Nowhere

~ Transcript ~

(Dream 1 & Dream 2 that Rowan is talking about.)

Beginning / Previous / Next

[fangirlwriting-stories]

I Told You That I Love You (Please Believe Me)

Summary: Roman isn't sure how much longer he can deal with Janus' hatred, so he decides to try and at least ask him why so he knows what he's doing wrong.

Roman knew that Janus didn’t care about him.  He said it so often that Roman had learned how to not react to it.  Sometimes Janus was feeling particularly cruel and said things like “I do, in fact, care deeply for you, Roman.”  Which, of course, since he was Janus, meant that he didn’t care in the slightest.  There had been a time Roman might have assumed he was being genuine.  But that was before he learned that Janus always spoke in lies.

Roman had a tendency to lash out when he was hurt, meaning that more than once he’d responded to these statements with some kind of anger.  But could you blame him?  It  hurts  to be so often told by the person of your affection that you didn’t matter to them.

Because when it came down to it, that was the real problem.  The way that somehow, despite everything, when Roman saw Janus his heart still fluttered.  He still saw the way that Janus cared for those he loved and wanted that for himself.

Janus didn’t care like Patton, where he was constantly checking up on others.  But when a side was reaching their breaking point, Janus stepped in.  He cared for Patton when he was sad, and Remus when he was lonely, and Virgil when he was panicked, and Logan when he was overwhelmed, and Thomas when he was weary.  He was gentle and soft in a way that he almost never was.  Janus stepped in when someone was tired, and couldn’t make it much further on their own.

And Roman was so tired.

But despite Janus slowly becoming more accepted, him fixing his relationship with Patton and Logan and even Virgil, eventually, Roman wasn’t extended that same grace.  He understood.  He’d made so many mistakes.  But understanding why Janus still hated him didn’t make him any less tired.  And didn’t make Janus any less magnificent.

Magnificent enough that Roman had come to expect the way his heart raced when Janus entered a room.  How could he not love Janus when he was so… Janus?

It didn’t really make the renewals of hatred any less painful.  Roman thought it might actually make it worse, since as Virgil had sung about, when you care for someone, not much hurts more than their scorn.

So Roman slowly started to avoid Janus when he could.  It was more difficult than it used to be.  Janus was around, and for some reason, when he spotted Roman alone in a room, he didn’t immediately head the other direction, but instead walked in and sat with him most of the time.  And Roman didn’t  understand.

Why was he here?  Why did he insist on spending time with someone he had no problems admitting that he hated?  It made no sense.

It reached a point where Roman wanted answers, and he couldn’t think of many places better to get them than the person that was causing him these issues in the first place.  So he gathered up his courage to go knock on Janus’ door… and ended up standing in front of it for an hour and a half.

Okay, it probably wasn’t actually that long, but it felt that way.  He thought anxiety was supposed to be Virgil’s thing, but Roman couldn’t seem to get his heart rate to calm down long enough to knock.

He supposed it didn’t really matter in the end, because he was there long enough that eventually Janus opened the door and saw Roman standing there.

“Can I help you?” Janus asked after a long pause.

“Can I ask you something?” Roman said quickly.

Janus raised an eyebrow.  “Sure.  Come on in.  But can we make this quick?  I needed to find Patton.”

“Oh, well then nevermind!” Roman exclaimed, leaping about six paces back.  “I can ask another time, I’m sure that’s much more important!”

Janus blinked at him a couple times, then sighed.  “Okay.”  He walked across the room, took Roman by the arm, and pulled him into his room.  “Clearly you need to talk about this right now.  Come on then, out with it.”  He shut the door behind them both and turned to lean against it, preventing Roman’s escape.

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine!  I’m just being silly, we can do this another time, or never!  Never is good too!” Roman said, trying to ignore both the way his mouth was starting to run away from him and the way Janus was starting to look irritated.  He could do this, he just needed to last long enough to throw this whole thing in the garbage and do it later.  Or never.

“Roman,” Janus said.

“And I don’t want to bother you with something so silly, I mean I—”

“Roman.”

“—don’t need an answer to this right away, it’s such a small thing, it’s not—”

“Roman,” Janus snapped.  “Out with it.”

“Why do you hate me?” Roman blurted, and Janus’ eyes snapped open in shock.  Roman had to resist the very unprincely urge to slap his hand over his mouth.

Janus narrowed his eyes a second later, and Roman wanted to go immediately back into his room and never come out again.

“Roman, what are you talking about?” Janus asked.

“I… I’m sorry,” Roman said, looking away.  “I just… I want to know why you hate me.  Is there any way to make you like me?  Or just forgive me?  Because I’m so sorry.”

“Roman,” Janus said, moving across the room and towards him.  He had that gentle look in his eyes that was reserved for sides he cared about, but that didn’t make any sense.  “Why would you think I hate you?”

“Well— you tell me all the time,” Roman said hesitantly.

Janus stared at him.  “When have I done that?”

“You say you ‘care deeply’ for me.  But you lie all the time, so…”

Janus stared at him for a second longer.  “Are you kidding me?”

“…No?”

Janus gave a short laugh and ran a hand through his hair.  He muttered something that sounded like “Why the hell am I in love with you again?” except for the fact that there was no way that was what he actually said.  A second later, though, he walked across the rest of the space between them and took Roman by the shoulders.

“Roman,” he said.  “Listen to me.  I definitely speak in lies all of the time.”

Roman blinked.  “…Oh.”  He looked down, trying to process that.  “Really?”

“Really.  I thought we covered this already.  And why on earth would I tell you that I hate you to your face so many times?  When the others are around, no less?”

“Why would they care?” Roman mumbled before he could stop himself, and Janus’ hands suddenly lifted off his shoulders.  Roman winced.  Well, he screwed that up.

“Roman,” Janus said again.

Roman managed to drag his gaze up to Janus.  “Yeah?”

“You’ve seen me telling the others I love them, haven’t you? Did you think I was lying to them?”

“Well, no,“ Roman said.  “But that’s different.“

“How is that different?“

“Well they deserve it.“

Janus’ face fell, and Roman’s heart did the same a second later.  “Wait, no,” he stammered.  “I meant— wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Roman,” Janus cut him off.  “When someone tells you they love you, do you assume they’re lying to you?”

Roman blinked.  “Well, yeah,” he said.  “Obviously.”

For some reason, that just seemed to make Janus more distressed, and Roman didn’t know what he was doing wrong.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Janus said, his hands drifting up to Roman’s face.  They rested on his cheeks, and Roman pulled in a sharp breath.  Janus looked like he was about to cry.

“What… what did I do wrong?” Roman whispered.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” Janus said, pulling Roman into his arms.  Every place their skin connected felt warm, and Roman wondered when the last time he got a hug was.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Roman,” Janus repeated, which was definitely a lie, because Roman did things wrong all the time.

Janus seemed to pick up on what he wasn’t saying somehow, and shifted to start running his hand through his hair.  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he repeated.  “Or, I suppose, if it helps, you’ve done absolutely everything wrong and I despise you, Roman.”

Roman took a shaky breath.  It felt like it shouldn’t have been easier to believe such if Janus told him like that.  But he decided for right now to let that not matter, and just drank in the warmth Janus was giving him.  They weren’t moving, after all, and it had been such a long time since he had just gotten to exist with someone like this.

“Breathe,” Janus said softly, and Roman realized he was starting to shake.  “It’s okay, Roman, breathe.”

Roman buried his head in Janus’ shoulder and breathed.

“Can I help you?” Janus asked softly.  “How can I help you, Roman?”

“Don’t go,” Roman said, sudden and not very prince-like at all.  “Please don’t go, I— I’m tired.”

“Okay,” Janus said.  “Okay.  I won’t go.  I’m not going anywhere.”

Roman opened his mouth, and nothing came out.  He wasn’t even sure how to ask, but his brain wouldn’t stop screaming at him.

Janus, somehow, seemed to read his mind.  “Roman,” he said, sounding a little exasperated but thankfully not to the least bit angry.  “I’m going to completely abandon you without a single thought as to how it will affect you.  Considering I don’t care about you in the slightest, that will be very easy for me.”

Roman buried his head further in Janus’ shoulder.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s not alright,” Janus said.  “I’m very annoyed by it, especially considering how hard it is for me to lie.”

Janus ran his hands through Roman’s hair again.  “Do you want to go lay on my bed, sweetheart?  You said you were tired.”

“Not like that,” Roman protested weakly, except for the fact that he kind of was, and Janus’ bed looked very comfortable, and if it meant Janus would stay…

“If you don’t want to, I’ll force you,” Janus said.  “But if you want to stay, I won’t let you.”

“…Can I?” Roman asked.

“Of course not,” Janus said, leading them over towards the bed.  “I generally find naps in the afternoon to be horrendous after all, and I avoid them at all costs.”

Five minutes later found them both in pajamas bundled under many heating blankets, with Janus still running his fingers through Roman’s hair and Roman definitely not complaining.

“You know,” Janus said quietly.  “We’re definitely not going to have to have a talk about you assuming people are lying to you when they tell you they love you.”

Roman tensed.

“But it absolutely has to happen right now,” Janus continued.  “Especially if you’re not ready.”

Roman was quiet for a minute.  “You really don’t hate me?” he whispered.

Janus simply squeezed him with an extra summoned hand in response.

“Why?”

Janus hummed in thought.  “Do I have reasons for how much I absolutely detest you?  Let’s see, there’s quite a few of them.  Let me think.”

He pulled gently at a knot in Roman’s hair and summoned another hand to gently untangle it.  Roman felt a little bit like he was floating.

“Because you’re incredibly cruel when you’re trying to be kind,” Janus said.  “And you’re so terrible at coming up with ideas and ways to inspire, both yourself and others.  You look terrible when you dress up.  You’re about the least forgiving person I’ve ever met.  And you definitely don’t have this sparkle when you’re excited that’s just infectious.”  Janus gave him a look.  “I’ve seen it so often lately.”

Roman was still too busy catching up on all the compliments Janus just gave him to respond in any way, which was completely unfair, because he was the romantic side, and he should be able to come up with long poetic speeches about the person he… was in love with…

Roman looked up at Janus for a moment, and somehow, Janus seemed to read what he was thinking on his face again.  And then Roman thought maybe he could come up with a speech later, because Janus was suddenly looking very embarrassed and that was much more important.

Roman started to grin.  “You,” he proclaimed happily.  “Like me.”

“Preposterous.”

“You love me,” Roman crooned, because he was starting to feel very in his element, and it was making him much less self-conscious.

“Simply absurd.”

“And I think it would be reasonable to assume,” Roman said with a beaming smile.  “After the way you’ve been behaving, that you’re in love with me.”

“I’ve never heard such a ridiculous statement in my life.”

Roman leaned in and rested his forehead against Janus.’  “Except you’ve been speaking in lies for the past half hour,” he said.  “And I love you too.”

“How many times do I have to explain that I don’t only speak in—” Janus stopped.  “What?”

“I love you too,” Roman said happily.  “I thought that must have been rather clear, with how upset I was that I thought you hated me.”

Janus blinked a couple of times.  “Ludicrous,” he said weakly.

“Can I kiss you?”

Janus responded by leaning in, and Roman soared.

Janus didn’t hate him.  As a matter of fact, for some bizarre reason, Janus seemed to love him back.  And the rest could be worked out with time.  They could talk.  Roman could ask the others if they really weren’t lying when they said they loved him, like Janus seemed to believe.

Roman smiled into the kiss.  Right now, if someone else told him such, he felt like he could believe them with ease.

[andraaste]

I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 16

The Chapter is finally out my Guardians 🐉

Chapter 16 : In the deepest memories of the last of the dragons

My hands would follow their path taken for several minutes, forming various abstract forms of their weak caresses. Many chills arose from time to time with my fingers when I explored new areas but no protest was ever heard, which prompted me to venture out again and again, savoring this almost suspended moment in time.

Blinking hard with white lids in the dim daylight streaming through the curtains, my gaze fell for a moment on the long locks that partially obscured Lance's sleeping face. With his head resting on my bare chest, he didn't seem to want to wake up from his deep sleep, an arm slung over my request now firmly pressed against him.

I directed my caresses a little higher until I reached a scaly area on his shoulder. Fascinated, I drew each outline as if to come to memorize them, surprised to feel them vibrate with each passage of my fingers.

It had been some time since I realized one thing. One thing who, each time he let me see it, filled my heart a little more with new feelings.

More and more often in my presence, Lance seemed to forget his barriers. So sometimes the young man let an infinite number of improbably colored scales run over his skin while, at other times, his ice ran through my body without any logic, drawing complex and involuntary shapes. I’m always surprised at the sweetness of these manifestations, yet they are born of a raw, primitive nature. Because despite his human appearance, Lance was nonetheless a dragon whose instincts he had and, beyond the brutality that accompanied some, I loved to see him let go. I had the impression that in those rare moments when the barrier between his two forms was weakening, he could finally relax, really be himself.

But to share with him this moment of physical intimacy In purely instinctive outbursts, he loved to mark me with his presence, ranging from his powers to his scent and at times, to his claws. Lance had been unintentionally brutal at times, but was it strange if I admitted that I absolutely loved every moment ?

The dragon pulled me out of my reveries, stirring lightly. Lifting his face with still sleeping features, he arched an eyebrow as he analyzed the situation, his gaze drifting over our still naked bodies. My breath quickened as one of his hands lingered on the slope of my hip as his eyes were already dark with desire. Without warning, he tightened his embrace and rocked over me. His long hair tickled my face as he leaned down to explore every inch of my neck, making me moan in spite of myself with languor.

- Hello, my angel, he said in a hoarse voice against my skin.

I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders as a weary smile stretched my lips.

- Hello, my great dragon.

Lance laughed in the crook of my collarbone as he let his icy hands rest on my thighs, causing goose bumps to grow in the grooves of his palms. His lips entered the slope of my jaw, and when they finally met mine, it was with some authority that he lifted my legs on either side of his narrow hips.

We kissed for a long time, our tongues meeting without delay to deepen our embrace. Between my legs, I felt him pulsing more and more vigorously, increasing with maddening speed the desire that had not left me.

- You do well not to forget in whose arms you find, he amused himself in a voice with a much deeper sound than usual.

I dug my nails vigorously into his muscular back as his hips pushed against my lower abdomen.

- How could I, exactly ? I questioned him with difficulty, so much the least of his gestures obsessed me. You don't really help me forget it...

- It's true that I can't keep my human form completely, with you.

- I don't mind, you know, I said with a laugh.

A gentle smile lit up his face, which features often so harsh. In a light mood, the dragon lifted my chin with his fingers to orient my face in his direction. I plunged without hesitation into his eyes which had occupied all my thoughts for several weeks.

Becoming serious again, we didn’t say the least for several long seconds, we observe with a heavy look of meaning.

- Andraste...

I knew what was going on in his head.

We.

Our relationship, our past, our present... To be in each other's arms was absurd, totally unconventional and we were both deeply aware of it. What would become of each other once we got out of this room ?

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing we could become for each other. And we knew it.

Deciding to stop our respective paths of thought, I crossed the short distance between us, feverishly pressing my lips against his. I kissed him with anger, despair, envy. I placed my fears in those powerful hands that encircled my hips, those greedy lips that devoured mine as if to come and seek some breath. I needed to feel him losing control, needed to drown in his eyes that screamed at me that they loved me.

Or at least, during these short, resolutely forbidden moments.

- Please, don't say anything, I said between two kisses, starting to move my pelvis against his. We'll have plenty of time to worry about this later.

Seeming to consider my words at first, Lance suddenly planted one of his hands on my hip as I shifted more and more vigorously under his weight that crushed me. Not giving me time to think, he shamelessly slipped two fingers inside me without ever taking my eyes off suddenly feverish. Reaching my guard, he stirred slowly but confidently, torturing me with his thumb a little higher. My God, I had never wanted someone so much, I was sure.

Each of his movements made a myriad of sensations explode in the pit of my stomach, making me turn my head with his precise gestures. My pelvis quickly accompanies his fingers, guiding them silently while each of my moans is found drawn to his lips. When a multitude of stars erupted in my field of vision, I firmly grabbed his throat as he led me over the edge of the precipice without warning.

As I lost ground, I noticed with a blank eye that my light was diffused into him. Starting from the base of his neck just under my palm, it illuminated him tanned skin with its bright, warm colors. In this story, it wasn't Lance who lost control the most.

I think it was me.

Not that I ever really had control over my powers, that would have been lying. But I no longer control anything. My emotions, my fears, my desires; I was constantly jostled, tossed about between everything.

When the dragon in turn realized that I was marking him without permission with my light, he groaned in satisfaction before promptly removing his fingers from my privacy. I didn't have time to figure out what was happening to me as I already found myself astride him, Lance having grabbed me to reverse our places, his hands feverishly running my back as his tongue attacked my chest. Tilting my head back, I let his hungry mouth move up to my ear, biting my skin with his suddenly sharper teeth until it slightly marked me.

With one hand, I pushed him away in order to come and press his back authoritatively against the mattress. His gaze darkens again as I lean over him, starting a slow descent from his abdomen. Another gasp escaped him as my palm met his erection, slowly working its way up from the base to the end, never taking my eyes away from his. Lance slid his fingers in an inordinately gentle gesture through my hair to achieve my face, making it easier for me. His hands began to shake slightly when I finally took him in my mouth, unable to fully accommodate him as long as he was imposing.

His breathing quickened as I started my task, fascinated to be able to discover him in my turn as he had done that night with my body. Very soon, I heard him utter several quiet moans which excited me to the highest point before he hastily tugged at my hair to make me lift my head. Bluntly, he pulled me up to him while vigorously grabbing my lips, framing my face with his large hands.

- I think I want you too much, my angel.

*

The water hit my head heresy, hitting my long hair hard against my shoulders. How long have I been wandering here ? My eyes narrowed at the force of the rain that fell on me, I moved forward as in a kind of constant blur.

My gaze was followed by a small shadow which is quickly in front of me. Running under the downpours, she didn't seem to feel them, moving freely in the surrounding darkness. I put a feverish hand in front of my face to try to make out something around, having lost the figure between the trees. Sailing blind, a childish laugh catches my attention as I push two branches in my path. Deciding to follow the sound of that unfamiliar voice, I sank deeper into what looked like a real maze.

The closer I got to the shadow, the more it seemed to take shape before my eyes. Very soon, I could make out rainbow-colored hair that blended into pale skin, accompanied by two small horns. The young girl was running innocently, as light as the air despite the brutality of the force of nature that fell on me. My heart skipped a beat when I thought I was losing sight of her again, which prompted me to pick up my pace even more. I stumbled many times, sliding across the muddy ground, hitting oversized roots. The thundering sound of the rain covered the sound of my frantic breath, my hair clinging to my face, entering my mouth, sticking to my eyelashes. My sight was diminishing, darkness absorbed me with its cold arms.

I didn't know what to do anymore, I was lost.

But suddenly the little girl's big silent eyes appeared in front of me. An arm outstretched in my direction, she invited me to join, as bright as the sun. When my fingers made contact with her skin, the scenery changed completely, making my head spin at breakneck speed.

The movements finally calmed down. I immediately recognized the Crystal Room, but it wasn’t the one I knew now.

Several people with unfamiliar faces stood in front of me. With serious faces, they were discussing without seeming to notice my presence.

- He will be the one we send there.

- A Guard Chief, when the situation is totally out of control there ?!

- He's far too young !

- Bring him in, cut in the man who seemed to be the decision-maker here.

A shiver ran through my back as the door opened wide, letting slow, sure footsteps echo through the room. When the young man in question passes close to me, brushing my right arm in the process, a sharp sensation marked my skin under my sleeve. He seemed to feel it too, for the expression on his face changed for a brief moment, almost flustered. His gaze caressed mine without actually seeing me.

- Lance, we were expecting you.

Continuing on his way, a confident smile widened the full lips of the dragon with such youthful features.

- Please excuse me for being late, Master Kaze.

Completely caught up with what was happening in front of my eyes, I was surprised to find the young girl's little fingers wrapped around my forearm. When I turned my head in her direction, the world shifted once again.

A companion collapsed at my feet, spurting blood against my legs. A violent gag took hold of me when its organs fell from the gaping wound that sawed through its stomach. Horrified, I backed up several meters when my attention was signaled by a huge dragon crashing into the rocks not far from me, all with a thudding noise. In a last rattle that comes back to my stomach, the creature collapses to the ground before taking on a semi-human form. Tears flooded my cheeks as I rushed over to him.

- LANCE !

My voice creaked, broke in my throat. I could only see the red puddle that gradually spread around his neck like a macabre web when my vision changed once again.

I was sitting on a bed in a windowless room. Beside me, a small gas light glowing faintly in the dark. Looking down, I noticed I was perfectly dry. No more blood stained my clothes.

- So if I understood correctly, you want to help me break this damn Crystal ?

A harsh laugh shook the broad shoulders of the young man as his interlocutor didn’t move a millimeter, perfectly stoic.

- You understood me very well, Ashkore. Do you want to make this deal, yes or no ?

Lance's gaze shone with a gleam that made my blood run cold. A carnivorous smile crossed his crazy-looking face.

- Very well, my dear deamon. But don't think you'll get me right.

The light suddenly went out, revealing once again the bluish color of the great Crystal.

Serenity reigned in the room. This time, no sound comes to disturb the religious calm of this atmosphere. A movement at the back of the room made me turn around anyway, revealing Lance once again.

Alone, casually assisting on the floor, his gaze didn’t seem to want to leave the luminescent jewel.

His eyes had never been so dark.

- That was the last time he was here, until you woke up.

I jumped at the sound of the small voice behind my back. The young girl stands there, motionless. I hesitated for a moment.

- Ophelia... where are we ? I questioned weakly, having her decide to disappear again.

Her expressionless gaze was lost for a moment in the void behind me. I thought she wouldn't answer me.

- In the deepest memories of the last of the dragons.

- But why ? What are we doing here ?

Walling herself in silence, she walked straight ahead until she crossed my body and passed to the other side.

- You have to find the answer for yourself, Andraste.

The recommended image to blur around me. No, not now, I had to catch up with her !

- Ophelia !

Abruptly opening my eyes, I woke up sweating in my bed, breathing heavily from my parted lips.

I was dumbfounded when I realized that tiny ice crystals were forming under my astonished gaze.

Damn, what happened to me ?

(Chapter 17)

[pillow-anime-talk]

chibi-chan.

synopsis: A little bit of jokes about your height from GoM’s boys or situations where you need some help. But don’t worry, we all know that you are super cute and adorable.

# tags: scenarios; current relationships; comedy; fluff; romance; jokes; also protective/helpful boyfriends; sfw

includes: female reader ft. ryouta kise, daiki aomine, shintarou midorima, atsushi murasakibara, seijuurou akashi & tetsuya kuroko {knb}

— RYOUTA

You’ve been wondering how to impress your boyfriend for a few days, because he hasn’t paid much attention to you for a long time. Even when you came in a different hairstyle or changed your perfume, Ryouta just smiled at you, then stole one kiss from you and run for basketball team training...

Oh, right. Basketball. You didn’t know a bigger fan of this sport than your boyfriend. Stupid thought of playing basketball passed through your head to show off your skills (or rather attempts to have any skills to play in this sport) to Kise.

The more you thought about it, the more convinced you were. You decided to try and on Friday immediately after your lessons you went to the gym. You knew that at 5 p.m. the Kaijou team would start their training, so you only had an hour to take off your whole uniform, jump into the P.E.’s tracksuit and pick one ball from the big bin and start slowly throwing into the basket hoop.

Of course, it’s easy to guess that it was hard for you to hit into the hoop with your... small height. Certainly when you were born, you didn’t queue for ‘being tall’, but rather for a nice smile and big eyes. No wonder that for the first ten casts only one was successful and it was certainly a coincidence, because the ball spun three times on the rim before falling inside.

“I suck in this game.” You muttered under your breath, again taking a position on the first line on the court.

You were so absorbed in the game that you didn’t even notice how a curious blond-head looked inside the gym because of the noise and the light on. What a surprise for Kaijou’s ace who saw you in front of the basketball board and the ball in your hands.

However, when he noticed your next inaccurate shot he laughed under his breath. “I think you’re a little too short for this game, Y/Ncchi.” He said in an amused voice, entered the room. You turned to the voice and then sighed.

“And too short for you to notice me, huh?” You added wearily, catching the ball.

“Y/Ncchi... I always see you!”

“I don’t think so. But I don’t blame you. I just wanted to... impress you. You like basketball, so maybe you would like me more if I could play with you.” You shrugged, throwing ball into the hoop again. Miss. “Shit.”

The blonde man shook his head approaching you. “I like you no matter what you do or how you do it. You don’t have to play basketball to impress me. You should change you for you and only you, not me or someone else. Anyway, I said what I said. I notice you all the time, Y/Ncchi. You looked pretty last time when you had a ponytail. Your new perfume was amazing too. Hmm, now when I think about it, I don’t praised you for that, right? But know that I appreciate everything you do.” He confessed quietly, patting you on the head. “And now Chibicchi, I’ll show you how to play basketball, because you have a terrible position to throw a ball...”

— DAIKI

Aomine definitely loved teasing you the most if your height was at stake. He usually made you as his own armrest or asked what’s weather below. They were a puppy jokes that somewhat irritated you, somewhat amused you, and somewhat embarrassed you, but what can you do? After all, they were just pokes and you knew that well. In retaliation, you often mocked him by calling him a ladder, giraffe or Eiffel Tower.

Daiki was glad you weren’t offended about it because... you were incredibly cute to him when your cheeks turned red and slight insults came from your lips. Of course he would never say it out loud, but you were super fluffy for him and he liked this side of you. And hey, as your tall boyfriend he had nice views from above. For this and if necessary he liked to take you on his lap or cuddle with you on the armchair, because you were the pocket-sized person and he could cover your whole body by his.

But as I wrote, Aomine would never have said it out loud. He just always laughed, saying you were shrunk again.

Of course, Daiki wasn’t such a bastard to you.

I mean, yes. Aomine had the right to make fun of you, but no one else him could do it, because he knew that after all your height is your complex. Your boyfriend spoke his jokes in a gentle way, always saying at the end that he loves your body anyway, because of this he feels more manly and needful. He didn’t spare wet kisses or hickeys on your chest at that time, so you didn’t feel bad with him. You love each other very much.

However, when other people’s jokes were involved, such as those from girls who were jealous of your blue-haired man or gross jokes from boys who didn’t like Aomine or wanted to pick you up... Daiki changed his mood immediately.

Just like now, when you were walking towards Aomine’s class to go to the roof with him and have breakfast. Unfortunately, just before the door a couple of first-year students stopped you; one of them hit the wall with his hand, blocking the way for you.

“Hey, Y/N-chan. Oh, this bento is for me?” The tall black-haired boy took your breakfast box, then raised it high up, smiling broadly. “Thank you, it’s really nice. You are such a damn cutie.”

“Please, no. W-Wait...”

“Maybe we’ll arrange a date? We can go to the cinema and then to me. I think it won't be a problem with you getting into my bed, because you're so small...”

“Don’t touch me and give my bento back!” You jumped to catch the white box, but in vain.

“Oh, I have great views from my perspective.” The teenager laughed, not even noticing the shadow of a much taller person behind him. The box with your bento was picked up and the perverted student was pressed against the wall next to you.

“Why don’t you repeat what you just said a moment ago?” Daiki asked and you immediately ran up to him, hiding behind him. “Harassing girls... especially girls in the relationship... It’s really shitty, don’t you think? Get out, brat and never approach my girlfriend again.”

As I said, only Daiki can use your height for kissing or joking.

And of course to show that he’s the best boy on the whole world.

— SHINTAROU

Your boyfriend was a difficult man. He rarely showed any emotions, but you knew that he cares about you very much and despite his cold behavior he always worries about you.

No less, Midorima is... Midorima. You didn’t know any bigger tsundere than him; especially when you two were together at the random moment.

Like. Did you forget your scarf? No problem, Shintarou will lend you his own and tell you that you are irresponsible and childish. You’re hungry? All right, your boyfriend will buy you something from the school cafeteria or share his bento saying it’s the last time he does it for you (spoiler: this isn’t the last time because he’s a simp for you anyway). You’re tired? Girl... Midorima will take you on his lap and hug you so tight that your heart will melt, but three times he will mention that you can’t tell anyone about this situation. Mom, I love him.

In any case, Shin has his own way of showing affection, which is primarily based on texting to you or bringing for you your lucky items for the day; for example, recently, Midorima brought you a key ring with a puppy's pendant, because Oha Asa mentioned that this wouldn't be a good day for your zodiac... Sweet.

Today, however, he brought to school only an item for you (by the way, it was a Tokyo’s guide), or so you thought, because Shintarou always discusses with you about his lucky thing. And today he didn’t say a single word about it. He only took your hand and led you to class, saying that he would come for you at your next break.

And so, throughout today’s day Midorima didn’t leave you even for a moment, and by the way he still walked with you by the hand, which was a bit strange for you because Shin didn't like a public PDA. Takao was equally surprised.

Only when you started coming back to home with the green-haired man who was walking next to you (of course with your fingers laced with his) you decided to ask Shintarou if something had happened.

“So... your today’s happy item is a holding hands or maybe rather a woman’s hand?” You asked seriously, laughing under your breath, at which Midorima looked at you surprised.

“No.” He said honestly, so you immediately thought that your boyfriend joined into a PDA lovers! You were about to say something, but he continued. “My lucky thing for today is something small, that’s why I thought about you.”

You hit the boy on the shoulder, blushing furiously. “Idiot.”

— ATSUSHI

With Murasakibara, no matter if you were 155 centimeters tall, 168 centimeters tall or even 180 centimeters tall... you would still be small for him. And because you were below average, your relationship looked at least funny, but also sweet.

Of course, Atsushi didn’t care about your height, what’s more – he considered that it’s your advantage because he was pleased to took you in his arms while watching movies or grab your hands and play with them. Therefore, while you were next to him, you praised him and (maybe) from time to time you fed or played with his hair, Murasakibara paid no attention to your height. And when someone asked him if he didn't mind about it, he answered with his the most weary voice ‘Why would that kind of things should bother me? My Y/N-chin is my Y/N-chin and I like her no matter what. Do you have any problem with her or me?’

Of course, Atsushi is a big baby who likes to tease you, but he doesn’t use words for it; I mean, very often, when you want to kiss him, a tall boy laughs quietly and specifically asks that ‘huh, do you have a problem’ to reaching his lips. He always suggests bringing a ladder or chair. You snort, hitting him at the waist and laught shortly after that. Finally, you always pull him by the shirt to bend him down. He can't refuse you anyway.

Especially when you threaten him with not giving him snacks the next day.

Atsushi is a very supportive boy! If someone else teases you and you feel bad about your height difference, then your man always grabs the other person's head and asks rhetorically whether to crush him. Therefore, in order not to feel bad about it, you immediately offer him something to eat; if it's one of his three favorite dishes he'll probably follow you like a faithful dog.

‘Sushi likes to lift you up and help you to get to the basket board. His height is also very helpful when you cook something together, and he has the task of reaching for ingredients or bowls.

Nevertheless, sometimes he can’t refrain from saying that you are really smol. And if you’re together among the crowd, he sometimes he loses sight of you.

Fortunately, Atsu is so tall that you can find he quickly (usually at food stalls).

“You’re lost again, Y/N-chin...”

“You went to the snack machine without even telling me anything!” You laughed reaching for your wallet to buy ice cream for both of you.

“Sorry, sometimes I forget that you’re so small and have short legs, Chibi-chin.”

— SEIJUUROU

Your boyfriend definitely isn’t one of those type who joke about such serious matters as appearance, style or diseases. However, if he only saw or heard that someone was laughing at you, he immediately appeared next to your figure, which caused the tormentor escape. No one dared to object to Seijuurou, it’s a fact.

Akashi, of course, didn’t laugh at your height as I wrote, but this doesn’t mean that he didn’t like the fact that you asked him a favor or asked him to give you something or help you in doing a random thing. This brat asked for something in return each time; usually it was a kiss but sometimes it was also something more.

In any case, your man always went into defense mode when he was with you, through what many people were surprised by his change from Akashi in the basketball team > Akashi in the company of Y/N.

For example, imagine such a scene: You go to your home with Seijuurou because the boy decided to help you with chemistry and physic, but on your the way you unfortunately stumble over the protruding curb and fall into the ground, injuring your knee. Sei immediately changes from ‘full seriousness’ to “God, honey, are you all right?”

“Sei-kun, I’m not dying.”

“Yes, but it looks really bad. Let me take you in my arms.”

“Seijuurou-kun, I can really go on my own legs.”

“I won’t let you. Come here.”

“You’ll be tired and I’m heavy.”

“No, you’re not. You’re tiny.”

There really is no point in arguing with him because you won’t win anyway. Although you have to admit that thanks to the pink-haired you feel really loved and appreciated. There is no person in the world who cares about you like Akashi.

— TETSUYA

This boy is literally an angel. He probably won’t say a bad word about your height, but if he does, he will be 100% unknowingly about it and if he quickly understands his mistake, he will apologize for it; for example, he says you have recently seemed taller, but after a while he will remember that you were wearing shoes with a higher heel that day, not sneakers. Tetsuya is the most supportive boy in the world who will help you with everything you have a problem with.

You can’t reach the top shelf in the store? Kuroko will take your favorite cereal without a word and say that if you need something else from this or other shelf, just tell him. Do you have a problem with hanging laundry or putting curtains on your window? Tetsuya will gladly help you or lift your body to make you more comfortable. Are you cold? This cutie will lend you his sweatshirt/jacket/blanket, saying that you should take care of yourself, because you quickly catch a cold.

You! Literally! Have! Nothing! To! Complain! About!

Angel. I said what I said.

Kuroko isn’t one of the highest either people, so he is somewhat happy that his girlfriend is much shorter than him and sometimes needs his help for even such simple matters as changing a light bulb, reaching for a book in the library or chips from the storage locker in kitchen.

Sometimes, however, you get the impression that Kuroko is too worried about you. Like at this moment when you were going to go swimming with your boyfriend in the lake because you and your friends from Seirin went for a little rest. And also ‘cause the basketball team has a training under the supervision of Riko.

“Y/N-chan can you swim here? It’s quite deep. I’m worried.”

“Yes, Tetsuya, I can handle it. But I will take your hand when I feel threatened.”

“Yes, but you can hurt yourself. Grab me now. Pretty please.”

Kuroko is definitely cute and lovely, but he should chill.

[enigma-im]

Nineth day of Christmas...

Trope: Royal/Servant (NSFW) Relationship: Naga x Human Word Count: 5,137

I walk through the overly ornate halls with a breakfast tray in my hands. I pass a few coworkers on the way, nodding to them all with a polite greeting. The morning is peaceful and quiet. Nothing hectic is planned for the week and the thought makes me giddy. With a pep in my step, I turn down another hall. I catch sight of a slithering tail sneaking into a room. As I pass the door I see the prince heading to his office. Our eyes meet before he starts to close the door. He passes me a kind smile and a flirty wink. I snap my head away, staring down at the carpeted floor with a blush.

The prince is a handsome man, some even say more handsome than his other siblings. His scales a mottled red and blue that is an envy to all. He takes after his father on that front, only taking after his mother with his soft features. The prince is a kind man, a great pick for a king. Though he is not considered The prince, that would his eldest brother, Calcifer, he has been brought up to be respectable and wise as a king should. We all adore the royal family, from their eldest to their smallest babe of a few years, they all rule with honor.

I set the tray down in My Queen's room. Hearing her off in her closest I arrange her morning meal in a presentable fashion. Fish, insects, and water, a simple meal for her majesty.

"Cora, that smells delicious. Did Helen make it this morning," the queen asks as she slithers from the closet.

"Why yes, you have quite the nose for her cooking," I grab the unloaded tray off the table.

"She has a very particular style that I like and it's a smell that always has me salivating," she looks at me with an easy smile," good morning, Cora."

I bow," Good morning, queen Malika."

With breakfast served and pleasantries exchanged I make my way towards the kitchens to help prepare for lunch. With a household so big and busy it's best to do prep work now than later. The family doesn't make it so easy as to all eat at once in the dining hall. No, no, no. they all have their afternoon responsibilities that must be dealt with separately, thus beginning the great hunt of finding them all to deliver their meals.

Pleasant conversation is exchanged as we all rush around the kitchen. Mary tells of her firstborn speaking their first words, a joyous event for the first time mother. Helen educates us younger staff on and ins and outs of toddlers. Stephanie steals the attention away from the children to share the hot gossip of the palace. The king's preparations for visiting a neighboring kingdom to speak diplomatically. The eldest prince's date with his betrothed. Even how littlest Amare's first day of schooling.

With lunch in hand, I redo my walk through the ornate halls, passing others with similar trays to mine. I'm filled with giddy as I turn into an office, shutting the door behind me with my feet. The middle prince looks up from his work, giving that heartwarming smile.

"Afternoon, Cora," my name rolls off his tongue like a purr.

"Afternoon, my prince," I curtsey. I shuffle in to set the tray down near his reading chair.

"You know I do not care for such formalities," he scolds facetiously. I bite my cheek to stop the smile curling my lips. Taking the plate off the tray I twist towards him.

"Apologies, Keita," I say. He watches me walk around his desk, setting his dish on the edge. I bow, ready to depart to finish other chores. Before I'm out of reach he snatches my wrist, tugging me softly towards him.

"May I be so bold as to make a request from you, sweetest Cora," he pets the back of my hand.

"A prince does not have to ask for permission from someone like me," I answer. He smiles with a tilt of his head, his dark eyes catching the light.

"But what sort of prince would I be to not treat all my people with the utmost respect," he clarifies," I wish to see you tonight, in my chambers for a bedtime snack."

"a bedtime snack," I playfully mock," now what sort of treat are you hoping I'd bring?"

He grins salaciously," a creamy tart or perhaps a stuffed pastry?" I giggle, heating up at such words.

"a dessert before bed, have you not heard of sugar giving one nightmares," I ask.

"Then good thing you will be there," his tail curls around my ankle," with a beauty such as yours surely you can ward off any and all treacherous dreams."

I playfully swat his hand away," too many sweet words from such a sweet prince. Shouldn't let me get any ideas."

His tail twines up my calf," may I ask what sort of ideas is coming forth in that head of yours?"

"oh, Keita, a woman shouldn't say such immodest things," I take a step back, feeling his scales glide across my skin as I make my exit. His eyes follow me as I grab the tray and make my way to the door. With a final look back I smile at his affectionate gaze.

"Till tonight, Cora," he says.

"Can't wait," I answer.

With the moon high in the sky, I make my way through the ornate halls for the third time. The way is dimly lit with gas lights. It feels scandalous to walk through these halls like a stranger in the night. I nearly giggle at these events waiting for me. Stopping before a door I right myself, adjust my hair and clothes. With a huff, I knock and twist the knob.

Walking into the poorly illuminated room I don't see signs of anyone here. Am I early? I take a timid step in, looking around cautiously. Opening my mouth to call out for him I feel a familiar touch to my ankles. Quickly I twist around, tugging into a comforting embrace. Lips slat against my own with a rewarding glide of pointing teeth against my skin.

"Evening, Cora," he greets as he peppers sweet kisses down my face.

"Evening, Keita," I pet at his hair," rather eager tonight, aren't we?" he suckles on my clavicle, stretching my collar to reach more of me.

"It's been weeks since I've got to have you, forgive me for being more excitable than usual," he answers in a rush. His cold tail curls around me, squeezing me in a comforting embrace.

"it's been merely days, Keita, no need to be so dramatic," I try to scoff. He steals my thoughts with a well-placed tail peaking up my skirt. The strong tip pets at my clothed heat with practiced ease. I nearly melt at the contact.

He perks up away from my neck with a smug face," a day without seeing your beautiful body is like a hundred to my weary self."

Keita drags me away from the door, laying me upon the bed before attacking me like the beast he is. Love bite where one would not see, touches that set my body aflame, and kisses that make even the soberest feel drunk. He discards me of my clothes quickly, attending to himself after a thorough examination of my bared chest. His cocks stand proud, both weeping just for me. It's an intoxicating sight that can make any woman feel like a queen.

I take him like I've done many nights before. Taking the pleasure he gives and giving the pleasure he demands. Silent cries echo just for us, gentle praises were spoken specially to one another. For tonight his body is mine, to please and worship. The reds and purples are like a painting that God has graced him with. The design was made to be admired by all and cherished by me. I adore this prince of mine, will adore him till my last breath.

We lay together, I curled up in his long tail. His head rests against my bosom, pressing lazy kisses to me. One of his cocks still nestles against me, taking it's sweet time to shrink after decorating my stomach. I pet at his hair with a content hum.

"I must be leaving soon, it would be bad to fall asleep here," I mumble. He groans in answer, squeezing me tighter to himself.

"Just a moment longer," he kisses my breast," let me know this peace for another second." I nod, just as reluctant as him to let go.

I sneak through the halls once again, thinking back on the night with a girlish smile. The prince and I have been nursing this affair for a while. Perhaps nearly a year, since the last snowfall. I look out the window, the next winter is soon. We never planned for it, never truly needed one another as we do now. Keita isn't a prince in line to become a king, he is but a son who was born after one wasn't needed. He doesn't care though. He enjoys his life, enjoys his luxuries. Enjoys me.

My room is quiet when I enter, too cold without someone to lighten the space. I fall into bed with a lonely sigh. We didn't think it would get so far. It was just an agreement to warm one another without risk. Now it's more. I agreed with Keita to keep things a secret, that stress of being in the spotlight nearly too much for me. I'm not a royal or someone of great importance and I'm keen on keeping it that way. For now, we are allowed this, to have fun without problems. That's the way I like it.

At the end of the week, the king returns from his trip with gifts for the family. All it bright in the castle with everyone accounted for. As I walk the halls delivering the queen her afternoon meal I see the king take Keita to his office. Keita passes me a quick sweet smile, nearly distracting me from my task.

I drop the tray off for her majesty, exchanging pleasant conversations. She raves on and on about little Amare. It's sweet to hear a mother speak so excitedly of their child. I've heard terrible things of sister kingdoms who don't have this familiar love for one another. It's heartbreaking to think these other royals can't have such a pleasant dynamic.

Dinner comes around with me tasked to feed prince Keita. With a pep in my step, I make my way to his office. When I enter he seems distracted, staring off into nothing with a contemplative look.

"Are you alright, sir," I ask as I set his plate down. He jumps from his thoughts, finally acknowledging me.

"Oh, sorry," he straightens himself," a bit busy today." I nod, watching him either way. With the conversation seemingly done with I bow before making my way back to the kitchens.

The week is lonely without Keita. He hasn't extended any invitations this week, keeping to himself in his office for most of the day. His mother even tries to express concern for him, asking a favor of me to check on him after lunch. I agree, my motives syncing with hers.

With a treat in hand, I rush off to Keita's office. The dessert is but an excuse, it being rather rude to come into a royal's room uninvited. I look at the chocolate pastry on the small plate, hoping that even something as simple as this could boost his mood. Entering his office I see him staring off into space again.

"Afternoon, sir," I bow," I have come with desserts." he snaps from his focus to look at me.

"Hello, Cora," he glances at the plate," my favorite? Have I done something good I don't know about?"

I smile," not that I'm aware of, but we all deserve a treat once in a while just because." I take the plate to him, setting it on the table as the silence begins to get awkward. He looks at the dessert for a moment too long.

"I'm sorry for being strange this week, I have a lot on my mind," he answers, all formality gone. I relax a bit.

"Your mother is worried about you," I say," and I'm starting to get a bit concerned as well."

He nods," Sorry."

We stand in silence again. I think about making my retreat, report back to his mother on the strange behavior.

"Alright, sir, I should be on my way now," I bow. As I step away he snatches my wrist.

"Can I see you tonight," he asks. I look at him, trying to pick any emotions off his features.

"yes, I'll see you in your room tonight," I nod. He lets me go, watching me as I leave his office.

I sneak into his room to be greeted with the familiar rendezvous. We tangle in the sheets once again, no words being exchanged. Tonight feels different though, slower and more intimate. It's an odd pace that warms my heart and twists my stomach. He is attentive with his affections, prying as many whimpers and cries from me as he can. Even as we lay in post bliss he just watches me, studying all of me. I meet his contemplative gaze.

"You are burdened," I reach out and pat his cheek. He cups my hand.

"I am burdened," he answers. I twist on my side, nearly touching foreheads with our nearness.

"Will you tell me," I ask. His body sags, his eyes dropping with a sigh.

"I rather not," he mumbles," but it will hurt us both if you heard it elsewhere." I sit up, brow furrowed in worry.

"What do you wish to tell me," I look between his beautiful dark eyes. He looks glum, dejected. Sitting up with me he watches for a moment longer.

"My father has given me news that brings sorrow more than joy," he says cryptically," I want you to know it's not my idea, I would have never agreed to this if I had a choice."

"Keita, you're worrying me," I recoil a bit. He reaches for my hands, tugging me closer to him.

"I know, dearest Cora, I just don't want you to be angry with me," he says," I couldn't bear to see your face twisted up in disgust when you look at me."

He speaks nonsense. How could I look to my sweet prince with hate? Only admiration can cross these features when I look at him.

"please tell me, Keita," I squeeze his hands," I can take it." he sighs, dropping his head.

"Father has promised me to another," he finally says," The eldest princess of Stezia. He arranged it on his visit."

I still at his words, feeling my heartbeat like a waterlogged drum. Promised to another? I hiccup as a sound tries to escape my throat. He is to marry? He squeezes my hands and tries to tug me closer, I twist away. I stare off into the room feeling dejected as he looked.

"Please, dearest Cora, I did not choose this," he tries to convince. I wither away at that moment. I'm to lose my sweet prince to another kingdom. How do I collect myself from this? Surely this pain will be my undoing.

Keita shakes me," say something, Cora, please." I look at him emptily.

"Princess Lilian is a fine woman and I think you would be a proper king to her," I answer formally," now if I may be excused, it is getting late." like an empty vessel I grab my clothes and redress myself. Keita tries to reason, saying words that I cannot hear. Without a word, I escape out the door, walk the halls, go to my room, and fall into my bed.

As my head hits the pillow all his words come rushing past my ears. I hiccup, a tear rolling down to my ear. With the first drop to lead the way, the dam is released. I curl into myself, crying like a woman who lost her love. I guess I am that woman. I wail into my pillow for the ignorance I've kept with me during this affair. I'm no princess, how could I ever pretend to be with a prince?

It's my turn to be distant and strange. Keita tries to catch my attention, tries to bait me with his words. I remain formal and proper through every exchange. He is a prince, how can I try to be unprofessional around him? My coworker takes notice of the hollow interactions. They too try to bait me into a conversation, even inviting me out for drinks. I decline with a curt smile, though they never meet my eyes.

I deliver the queen's dinner, sorting the plates onto her bedroom table. She sits in the chair by the balcony, gazing off to the setting sun.

"You have been withdrawn lately, Cora," queen Malika says casually.

"Don't mind me, Ma'am, I'm just a bit lost in thought as of late," I answer. She hums in answer, slowly turning her gaze to me. Malika watches me sort her meal, watches me pretend to have life in my bones. She hums again.

Standing from her chair she walks over, sitting at the table," would your suffering be because of some boneheaded decision my husband made?" I stiffen, gritting my teeth before plastering a smile back to my face.

"What ever choices my king makes is no worry of mine," I answer kindly. Her stare is heavy.

"You know the responsibility of a king is to protect his people," she asks. I nod," do you know the responsibility of the queen?"

"To be a guiding hand for the king," I answer.

"That is one," she eats a roasted insect from the bowl," the biggest responsibility is making sure their people are happy. I know everyone who works here, I've spoken to them all like treasured friends. Many royals have told me that is pointless but I believe to lead the people is to know them. So I ask you this, Cora. Do you love my son?"

I choke on my words, feeling cornered at this moment. I hurriedly grab the tray, ready to make an excuse to leave. She holds her hand up, pausing my attempt at a rushed departure.

"I just wish to know your intentions before I do anything," she clarifies," if you do not hold my son as dear as he holds you then I suggest you make your peace now."

I stumble on anything to say, floundering like a fish. The corner of her lip twitches towards a smile.

"I see," she look towards the window," then I suggest you meet Keita by the gardens tomorrow. He has much to say to you."

I gulp, nodding my head. She smiles, waving me off so she can enjoy her meal in peace. I shakily walk to the halls, nearly falling to my knees with nerves. How the hell does she know about Keita and me?

The next day is a rush of frazzled actions. I can't think straight, can't work, can't walk. Did Keita tell his mother? Did he plan this meeting in the gardens? I Malika the one who is orchestrating it all? What is to be said, what is to be done?

The time clicks away till sunset. My body is eager but my mind won't let me get ahead of myself. Surely this will all go terribly, who am I to wish for something pleasant with the prince? Surely this will all go well, the queen pulling strings and getting Keita out of this marriage. My brain won't rest.

I walk out to the gardens, admiring the flower wilting with the coming winter. The path is littered with petals, all varying shades of decay. Though dour, it's a lovely sight. I sit near the fountain, a chill going up my spine. Should have brought a jacket.

"You're here," a voice calls from behind me. Twisting around I see Keita slithering his way towards me. As he nears I stand from the bench, taking a step back. He freezes before the stone seat, shoulders dropping.

"as a suggestion from your mother do I sneak here to meet with an engaged man," I swallow hard," speak your peace, and I will mine."

"I-I'm sorry, Cora, I had to see you," he tries to get closer but I step back," my mother has spoken with me a lot as of late. It seems she is right when she says she knows all that goes on in her castle." he chuckles, half-heartedly.

"She is a good queen, was foolish of us to assume she wouldn't find out," I say, looking to the side. I can't bring myself to look at him, to allow myself a moment to adore his beauty again.

"Well, she has offered me much to think on," he slides around the bench," she doesn't give me direct instructions on how to war this battlefield but she guided me to do as my heart wishes." he continues ever closer, forcing me back against the fountain. As my calf knocks the edge and I nearly fall back he grabs me. Stealing me closer he presses his sweet lips to mine. In a moment of weakness, I allow him, missing his caresses like a removed limb.

I push him away," You are betrothed, please show some decency."

He grabs me again," Screw the marriage. I haven't asked for much as the middle child, I think I deserve to have this one thing I want." he kisses me again, forceful and rough. I wiggle in his hold, ripping myself from his grip.

"No," I shout," I will not be a mistress to you any longer! This game we play is not without rules, I will not be the one to suffer while you get what you want. I can't stand by and let you marry someone else while you string me along!"

"But, Cora," he reaches for me," I don't have to get married, we can run away together. We can go somewhere else and start a new life for us without the rules and restraints of here." I want to scoff at his suggestion, truly seeing his age now. He is a prince but he still has much to learn in the ways of being an adult. Twenty years of life in a castle hasn't shown him the harsh reality of life outside the walls.

"Keita," I sigh," that won't work."

He finally grabs me," Why not? I can provide for you, take care of you. We can start a family out there where I don't have to be part of arranged marriages and foolish things like that."

I shake my head," you don't know the first thing of being outside pampered living. I won't let you even if you did."

"Won't let me," he scoffs," Cora, you are being stubborn."

"And you're being daft," I chuckle bitterly," we have to end this. I can't be strung along and you can't be forced into this situation. I want you to continue living this life with your family. To have connections to them because they would be distraught without you." I pet at his cheek.

"Don't," he clenches his eyes shut," don't, please."

I stroke his scales," I will treasure our time together but we can't be. I'm not what you need."

"Yes you are," he barks," stop saying that."

I bite back tears," It's true. Your father would never allow such a thing. You are part of a proud family that is adored by all in this kingdom. I'm not worthy of standing beside you and being a princess."

"no," he shakes his head," no! you are worthy and I will do whatever I can to prove that. Mark my words, Cora, we are not done till I've exhausted every option."

I try to argue with him, try to get him to see reason but he fights back. Reluctantly I give. I let him believe there is a chance, let him believe we can actually be together. We depart with another forced kiss that has our teeth nearly clanking against each other.

I lay in my bed that night feeling worse than before. A seed of hope settles in my chest, the smallest rotted seed. Maybe he can figure it out. I try not to nurture that thought.

The week I try to forget about Keita and work as usual. I barely see him in passing, perhaps once or twice as he storms out of sight at the end of the hall. The queen is kind, more so than usual. Her request is improper for a maiden like myself. She asks to eat lunch with me, telling me to fetch my own food and bring it to her room. I have to reluctantly agree, enjoying some lively conversation.

I'm doing my best. It's all I can do at this point in time. The man I love is fighting tooth and nail for me in a battle I'm almost positive he can't win. Too many rules forbid such a thing, too many traditions and promises stop us. I sigh as I walk down the halls. Ornate and beautiful like always.

"You," someone snaps at me. Twisting around I find Keita slithering up to me. I take a step back in surprise as he snatches my arm and makes his way down the halls.

"What are you doing," I try to jerk my arm out of his grip," where are we going?"

"We are going to my father," he sneers. I turn cold.

"T-The king?"

"Don't have any other fathers beside him," he snaps. If I wasn't so afraid I would be scolding him.

Keita drags me towards the main hall, shoving the doors open unceremoniously. We both walk to the king who stands near a window surrounded by couches and tables. The main room hosts lots of meetings. The king looks to us both, quirking a brow at his son.

"I'm tired of all this sly bullshit," Keita starts," I'm not a subtle person, and trying to be has gotten me nowhere. So I speak plainly to you now, father, I do not want to marry princess Lilian. I want to marry maiden Cora."

The room is heavy with silence as the king turns his attention from Keita to me. His eyes study me, making me want to curl up and die. It a feeling I never wish to have again. I've worked with the family for a while now but the king has remained an intimidating man. His wife is the only one known to speak with him as an equal, even his children pay his respect in all regards. Except now, clearly.

"Do you bring this woman here as an alternative to Lilian or as the original interest," the king asks.

"I love her," Keita growls," she would never be a substitute." I would fluster at his validation if the king was watching me with those piercing eyes.

"In love? That's a heavy declaration," the king nearly smiles," You plan to ruin a relationship with Stezia with some childish crush?"

"Some childish-," Keita scoffs," I mean what I say. I love Cora more than any man can love a woman. More than any man can love anything. She is what brings me the most joy and I cannot bear to let that be taken away."

The king nods, looking out the window," Heavy declaration with passionate claims. I hope you are prepared to deal with whatever consequence may arise from this breaking of union with Stezia."

"I'll take whatever comes, as long as Cora is by my side," Keita says proudly. I'm left to gawk at the two, hopeful and fearful all at once. Is the king suggesting what I think he is?

"Then you get to be the one to tell king Dagda," the king looks back to us," if you agree then my next visit you are coming along to apologize to Lilian and her father. If that is all then you are dismissed."

"May it be my punishment for keeping quiet for so long, father," Keita bows," I speak truthfully when I say, thank you."

I get to see the king smile as he approaches Keita," I want my sons to be happy, there are no reasons to thank me for that." he presses a kiss to Keita's head before slithering out the room. I watch them both in awe.

With the king gone and me left flabbergasted Keita turns to me and lifts me in his arms. I yelp, holding his shoulders as I'm spun around. Keita litters my face with kisses, utterly engulfed in joy.

"Grow a backbone and take what you want, my mother said," he laughs," she tried to tell me and I took it the completely wrong way."

"She told you to confront your dad," I ask.

"Not exactly. I thought she meant to be determined with you, not my dad," he answers," either way, I'm ecstatic and I cannot be without you another moment."

Before I can ask he is whisking me away to his bedroom, laying me upon his sheets with the widest grin. He leans in, kissing me all over as he begins the task of removing my clothes.

"You know, I never said I agreed to any of this," I tease. He freezes, lifting off me with a quirk of his brow.

"Do you," he asks," agree to this?"

I scoff," Is this how you plan to propose to me?"

Realization strikes him as the smile comes back to his face. "Of course it's not. I will plan something grander than a romp in the sheets. For now, I need you, later we can share our love with the rest of the castle."

Keita rids my clothes and his own. His beautiful twin cocks stand to attention for me, sliding down my stomach before prodding at my entrance. I look up to him, reaching up and cupping his face. His gaze is filled with devotion and affection, it's almost alarming. He fills me, the second one resting on my stomach. We sit there, at peace finally being together.

I pet his cheek," I love you, Keita."

He kisses my palm," I love you, too, Cora."

We make love through the day, laying together exhausted that night. I let myself finally drift off in his arms, feeling full and delighted. Tomorrow will hold its own challenges but tonight, I'm happy.

[awritingtree]

Never Enough (2/7)

Sirius Black x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N Black is back at Hogwarts after running away from her father’s, Sirius Black’s, house during the summer. The year passes by and soon it’s the end of the year, with the OWLS finished. What happens when she finds out that her father was captured by Voldemort?

Words: ~2.5k

Warnings: angst, shitty father-daughter relationship, self-deprecating thoughts.

A/N: I KNOW! I KNOW! I KNOW! I know there isn’t a lot of Sirius x reader interactions in this chapter. There are some indirect interactions - or lack of. But I felt it was important to have this chapter and not skip a whole year from the summer to the end of 5th year. It also allowed to me to give more insight into the reader’s feelings. And I realize some parts seem rushed but like they aren’t really that important so... This chapter was important for the entire plot I have planned because we all know what’s coming in the next chapter :) Anyways I hope you enjoy this filler chapter in the mean time xx

Series Masterlist

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

The rest of your enjoyable summer back home with the Tonks flashed by and the next thing you knew, you were boarding the Hogwarts Express on September 1st. The return to Hogwarts was accompanied by a change in season, the green leaves changing colours ranging from red to orange to yellow; falling, leaving the trees bare. Following autumn came winter, which passed by just as fast. The grounds covered in soft snow, crunching beneath the feet of the various students making their way in and out of the castle.

Christmas arrived sooner than you’d thought. The white layer made the world look so pure, so peaceful. You had opted out of going home for Christmas. Any chance of actually staying home would be impossible with the Order of the Phoenix still in place at 12 Grimmauld Place. Since you hadn’t returned, you had sent Mr. Weasley a get-well-soon present on top of his Christmas gift.

So instead you had spent the holidays at Hogwarts in the company of your Slytherin friends, spending your days reading, enjoying the grand feasts in the Great Hall and catching up on some much-needed sleep. You had expected a gift, but you were left disappointed as you saw the only presents lying at the foot of your bed were from the Tonks, Ginny, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and your Slytherin friends. Lying in bed that night, your memories took you to a time somewhere around the beginning of November.

“Ew! Could you maybe consider showering before deciding to show up in public?” Parkinson’s whiny voice entered your ears as you ventured into the Great Hall on a Saturday morning.

Your broomstick was tucked in your underarm as you tied off one end of your French-braided hair. You wore your green and silver quidditch uniform messily, having rushed out of bed from waking up late. You had decided not to take a shower beforehand, knowing you’d get filthy all over again in a matter of a few hours. The sleepiness was still visible on your face, eyes drooping with weariness.

“Piss off Parkinson. Go drool over Draco elsewhere if my appearance is bothering you so much,” you sneered, plopping down on the bench, pouring yourself some pumpkin juice.

The arrival of owls stopped Parkinson from cursing you out. You looked up to see a snowy owl make its way towards the Gryffindor table, dropping a letter into the hands of Harry Potter. Upon reading who had sent him a letter, Harry, Ron and Hermione quickly glanced your way before quickly looking away, huddling together to prevent anyone from reading whatever the letter entailed. You sighed looking down solemnly, knowing whose letter would elicit such a reaction from the trio. In this moment you had never hated the snake emblem across the area over your heart more.

You’d cried yourself to sleep that night. Not even the fact that Slytherin would finally have a chance to win the Quidditch House Cup, due to the banning of Gryffindor’s seeker and beaters, had cheered you up. 

Both of those nights you had cried yourself to sleep, beating yourself up for ever expecting, for hoping, that this time away from your father had him changing his opinion on you. You didn’t know why you still cared. You didn’t understand why you craved his love, why you hadn’t given up on having any kind of relationship with him. You didn’t know why you still cared - you shouldn’t. You hated yourself for caring; but a small part of you, the five-year old girl that cried, begging for a chance to go visit her father for a year, still existed. No matter how many times you repeatedly denied it to yourself, you seeked his approval, his love.

You had fallen asleep on both of those nights wondering what you could possibly do to be worthy of his love, wondering why you were never enough.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Winter had come and gone in a jiffy. May brought sunshine, warmth and the blossoming of new life along with it. By now, the D.A. had been found and disbanded, the Inquisitorial squad was thriving off making every non-Slytherin’s life miserable - all because you, now, had a toad for a headmaster.

Your OWLs were coming up soon, pushing you to study more than you had ever before, distracting you from thinking about anything else.

“I don't understand why you talk to that blood traitor and mudblood.”

“Because they’re my friends, Draco,” you sighed, for what seemed like the millionth time, “And stop calling them that. It’s despicable.”

“You don’t need such friends. You have us,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, friends such as Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini? I think I’m good,” you replied, scoffing.

Draco pulled you around to face him by your upper arm.

“I’m just trying to look out for you. These times, they aren’t the best. You don’t need to risk putting yourself in danger by associating with such...” he trailed off.

“Such what?” you prompted him, encouraging him to say something he’d regret. He stayed silent, staring at you, trying to say what he couldn’t out loud through his eyes, but your irritation didn’t allow you to see past his words.

“And I don’t need you to look out for me. I don’t need anyone to look for me! I can do that very well on my own, thank you. You’re not my brother,” you exclaimed, wrenching your hand out of his grip.

A series of emotions; hurt, anger, sadness; flashed across his face - gone before you could make anything of it. Your face softened as you realized what you’d said.

“Draco, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” you apologized immediately.

Draco moved out of the way just as you were about to lay our hand on his shoulder.

“No you’re right. I’m not your brother, Y/N,” spat Draco before softening his tone, “but I see you as my sister so I will continue to look out for you, no matter how you feel about it.”

He stormed away before you could get a second to respond, leaving you staring at the spot he’d previously occupied with a mixture of feelings.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

OWLs were finished. You couldn’t believe that you were finally done. Your plan was to set off towards the Black Lake right after your last exam, lie back in the grass with your eyes closed to soak up the warmth shining down on your face. You longed to hear the sound of overlapping water from the cool breeze lulling you into a state where for the first time since last year, you’d feel a sense of peace and quiet.

But it seemed the universe hated the idea of you relaxing, which is why you were currently in Umbridge’s - Umbitch as you liked to call her - with the rest of the Inquisitorial squad along with a few former D.A. members. You were all waiting on Professor Snape to make his way to office, upon Umbridge’s order request. In addition to the purrs of the many cat pictures hanging on the horrid pink walls, the office was filled with the sounds of D.A. members trying to pull away from the Inquisitorial Squad’s grips.

“You wanted to see me, Headmistress?” asked Professor Snape entering the room as he eyed the struggling students, unconcerned.

Umbridge stood up smiling widely, almost cynically, “Yes. I would like a bottle of Veritaserum. I wish to interrogate Mr. Potter here.”

“You used up the last of the Veritaserum I had on your previous interrogation with Potter. Surely you didn’t use it all?”

“I’m sure you can make some more,” Umbridge replied with an overly sweet smile that made you want to vomit from the sight of it.

“Unless you wish to poison him - I have the greatest sympathy if you do - I can’t help you, not until it’s ready after a month,” Professor Snape said as he looked towards Harry.

Harry’s face scrunched up, seeming to concentrate on communicating something to Snape but his attempt was futile.

“You’re on probation! You’re deliberately being unhelpful. Now get out of my office!” shrieked Umbridge.

Snape blankly looked at her unbothered before turning to head out of the door.

“He’s got Padfoot! He’s got Padfoot at the place where it’s hidden!”

You felt like you had just been drenched in ice cold water at Harry’s shouts.

‘He? Who is he? It had to be Voldemort. Who else could have Harry in such a terrified state? But no, it couldn’t be possible,’ you thought. 

Ginny’s wince brought you out of your spiralizing thoughts. You loosened your tightening grip on her hand, too panic-stricken to mutter an apology. Your wide eyes drifted from Harry to Professor Snape.

“Padfoot?” exclaimed Umbridge, “What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? Snape, what do you know about this?”

Snape turned back around to face Harry. His face was unreadable. You just hoped he would get some help, that he understood what Harry was shouting about.

“I have no idea,” he drawled, “Potter is speaking nonsense.”

You watched him walk out the door. Your palms had started to shake and sweat, everything drowned out. The only thing you could concentrate on was Snape, hoping he would give away any sign that he understood, he was going to do something. For once it seemed the universe had your back because just before he shut the door, his eyes made contact with yours as he moved his head, his nod bare visible. Relief flowed through your nerves; help was on the way.

You tuned into the conversation when you heard Hermione’s shrieks, “No! Professor- that’s illegal.”

Umbridge paid no mind to Hermione, raising her wand at Harry. Your hands clenched around your wand, preparing to take any action if needed as Hermione tried to convince Umbridge to stop.

“What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Umbridge said, “Cruc-”

“NO!” your shout was drowned out by Hermione’s.

“Harry, we- we have to tell her,” she cried.

“It seems little Miss Question-all is going to give us some answers! Go on, then,” said Umbridge, triumphantly.

You stared at Hermione questionably. What was she doing? She couldn’t tell that toad anything. The Ministry would surely get your father and then- you didn’t want to think what would happen if they got their hands on him.

“He was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione said in between her cries.

You felt Ginny tense in your grip in surprise as you suppressed the urge to sigh out loud in relief. Your eyes drifted around the room trying to think of a way to get yourself out of this situation and to Professor Snape. You needed to find a way to leave and help. You think you heard Hermione tell Umbridge about some weapon Dumbledore left in the forbidden forest in between your racing thoughts. You found the perfect opportunity as Umbridge headed out the door with Hermione and Harry. As soon as their footsteps could no longer be heard, all hell broke loose.

Ron slammed his head back into Warrington’s nose. You let go of Ginny, moving to get Crabbe off of Neville Longbottom, as she moved to go help Luna.

“Stupefy!” you yelled, pointing your wand towards Crabbe. You rushed to Neville, crouching down next to him as he caught his breath, “You okay?”

Neville weakly nodded. Satisfied with his nod, you got up to go help the rest. You felt Draco look at you, betrayed that you were helping the others, right before Ginny got him with the Bat-Bogey Hex. You felt a curse fly by you, grazing your cheek as someone pushed you to the side. Blood trickled down your cheek, dripping down staining your robes.

“What in the bloody hell are you doing, Ginny!? She’s one of them!” yelled Ron.

“No she’s not. She-”

“What do you mean? You see that badge, right? You do remember when she was holding you hostage right now? How about all the time she spent trying to catch the D.A.?” he rambled.

Ginny rolled her eyes exasperated, “Oh stop being so dramatic and listen. She’s not one of them. She’s been helping us all along. Why do you think no one patrolled near the seventh-floor corridor on the days we had a D.A. meeting?”

Ron shifted his eyes from Ginny, whose cheek had long scratches much like yours, to you before returning back to his sister, “That’s a load of codswallop.”

“We don’t have the time for this; We need to get going,” you said, impatiently. You did not have the time to convince anyone on whose side you were on. Your father could be dead by now for all you knew, and you had no clue how quick the Order would be informed to make their way towards wherever he was captured.

Ron opened his mouth, preparing to spew out an argument, “I’m sorry. We-”

“Look. Voldemort has my father right now and Salazar knows what he’s doing to him. No matter what has happened, he is my father. And you are not as smart as I give you credit for if you for a second think, I am not coming with you lot.”

“She’s right. We should get going. We’re wasting time,” Neville spoke up.

Ron looked between Ginny, Neville and you before begrudgingly agreeing.

You all quickly made your way out of the castle and towards the Forbidden Forest. You bumped into Harry and Hermione on your way there.

“How’d you get away?” asked Harry, surprised.

“Couple of hexes. Neville threw a good Impediment Jinx. Though, Ginny was the best, she got Malfoy good with a Bat-Bogey Hex. Anyway, what’ve you done with Umbridge?” replied Ron.

“Carried away by a herd of centaurs.”

“They left you behind?” asked a shocked Ginny.

“No, they got chased off by Grawp.”

“Whose Grawp?” questioned Luna, intrigued.

“Hagrid’s little brother,” explained Hermione.

“Never mind that!” interrupted Ron, “What did you find out in the fire? Does You-Know-Who have Sirius or-?”

“Yes” said Harry, “I’m sure Sirius is still alive but I’m not sure how to get there to help him.”

Everyone fell silent, the situation looking hopeless.

“What’s she doing here?” Harry asked, his eyes finally landing on you.

“He’s my father, Harry. Did you really think I was going to let you go alone?” you said, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Why? It’s not like you’ve cared before,” he retaliated causing rage to consume you at his unfiltered and forward words.

‘How dare he say that? I haven’t cared!?’

You opened your mouth to rebuttal, ready to release your wrath on the boy looking at you accusingly before Luna chimed in, paying no attention to the tension in the air.

“Well, we’ll have to fly, won’t we?”

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @kashishwrites @remmyswritings @angelinathebook @idont-knowrn @coffee--writes @kinkyduuh @ickle-ronniekins

Never enough taglist: @evilluciferisevil @slyther-inn @bloodyxheaven @gcdric @mycobrakai1972 @loony-loopy-lupinn @the-mighty-bookworm @mads-bri @tessaem @hannah220506 @hariosborn @kpopgirlbtssvt

Lmk if you wanted to be added to either taglist :)

[marwritesgood]

Reputation | F. Delfino

Pairing: Frank x Edmond!Reader

Timeframe: Season One

Summary: Y/n becomes resistant to Frank’s charm after finding out about his reputation.

masterlist

warning: murder, violence, season one spoilers.

A/N: I just finished the series so don’t mind me with the occasional HTGAWM fic here and there x This is definitely not for the faint of heart, so please be weary!

In the first year I spent as Annalise Keating’s newest paralegal, I became well-acquainted with a lot of the people she kept close to her. In particular, a certain Frank Delfino. 

Much to my initial dismay, he took an almost immediate liking to me. Whenever Annalise assigned me different tasks to fulfil, Frank always found a way to tag along with me. Any time I found myself trying to go through files of legal paperwork on my own, he would insist on working within close proximity to me.

As the year went by, I eventually grew to enjoy his company. The things I, at first, found irritating about him. Such as his overpowering cologne and his covert pick-up lines. Even the way his calloused hands would purposely graze over mine every time we reviewed paperwork together. 

These were the traits I ultimately found most endearing about him.

“What time does your cab get here?”

I looked up and saw Bonnie approaching me, arms stretched out to pull me in for a hug. I smiled and hugged her back. Frank made his way into the room from Annalise’s kitchen, my travel mug clutched in his hands with the coffee I had requested for.

“In about half an hour, Bon,” I answered, glancing down at my wristwatch when Bonnie finally let go of me. Frank smirked at me as he handed me my travel mug.

“Do you really have to go?” He asked, his tone half-joking and half sincere. Ever since the day I told him I was going to be out of town for a month, to visit my father, he had been whining non-stop covertly enough not to alarm Bonnie or Annalise, but overtly sufficient for me to find it amusing.

“I’m only going for a month,” I laughed. I lifted my mug to my lips and took a sip, before closing the lid and placing it on the coffee table. “I’m sure you’ll find some way to survive those four weeks.”

“Doubt it,” he replied.

He lifted his hand and placed it over his chest, trying to emphasise how physically heartbroken he apparently would be without me around. I rolled my eyes, trying to appear annoyed by his relentless coquetry. The immediate burning sensation on my cheeks betrayed me, and Frank caught onto it quickly.

“Hey, Bon,” Frank began, turning abruptly to face Bonnie. “- Annalise wanted Y/n to take the Boyd file with her, but it’s in the cabinet in her office.”

I scrunched my eyebrows. Annalise hadn’t mentioned anything to me about taking Mr Boyd’s file with me. Bonnie nodded, reaching into her bag for the key to Annalise’s office cabinet. 

“I’ll go grab it,” she said, before walking hastily to Annalise’s office.

Frank watched her leave until she was successfully out of earshot. Afterwards, he quickly closed the doors into the living room. I was slightly alarmed, but not as much as I was amused. 

“What’s going on?” I asked, laughing underneath my breath, as Frank quickly made his way back to where I stood. He smiled warmly at me. Not a coy smirk like his usual behaviour. This was a genuine smile- the first I had seen of its kind.

“Just wanted a second alone with you,” he murmured, reaching his hand out to hold mine. The feeling of his calloused fingers loosely intertwined with mine made my heart pound. “... before you leave me.”

“Oh my god,” I sighed, pulling my hand away so I could lightly punch his arm. When Frank was relentless at something, he was fully committed to it. “Don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m just gonna miss you,” he said softly, as he slowly wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I lifted my arms and hugged him tightly. For a moment I could have sworn I could feel his heart pounding just as aggressively as mine.

“I’m sure you can annoy Bonnie while I’m gone.”

“It’s not the same,” he answered, letting go and pulling away from me. I was grateful he did so, for fear that I was getting too comfortable being in his arms. After all, our relationship never exceeded being anything more than a flirtatious work friendship. “Promise you’ll come back?”

“I don’t know,” I replied jokingly, pretending to consider not coming back to Philadelphia. “Do I have any reason to come back?”

I was expecting him to laugh along with me, or have some witty rebuttal. Instead, he just gazed at me for a long moment. Knowing something was on his mind, I remained silent until he spoke again.

“What if I take you out to dinner when you get back?”

My eyes widened. I was taken so far back, I almost physically doubled back. I couldn’t lie. I loved the thought of going out to dinner with Frank. I especially enjoyed humouring the possibilities of what could happen after dinner. 

However, I had no idea Frank's harmless flirting was perhaps more meaningful than I had anticipated.

“Frank-” I gasped. I couldn’t shake the fear that he was just playing a cruel joke on me.

“I’m serious,” he whispered, never breaking his gaze with me. He seemed so sure of himself. As though this were something he had been calculating and contemplating for a while. “My uncle owns this nice restaurant uptown. Italian, of course... We could go there.”

“... I don’t know,” I responded hesitantly. If not for all the other factors to consider, I would have jumped at the opportunity to go out with Frank.

“Y/n-”

“You don’t think this is... I don’t know, inappropriate?” I felt pretentious immediately after I finished my question. I still thought it was a valid point. “I mean, we work together. What would Annalise say if she found out?”

“I don’t care.”

My breath hitched. Frank’s loyalty to Annalise was a character trait of his as prominent as the dark and mysterious persona he upholds. For someone who was always at Annalise’s beck and call, he claimed not to care about her input very nonchalantly.

“Well, I do,” I retorted, chuckling beneath my breath at how ridiculous Frank was sounding. “What if she fires me? You’ve been with her for years, I just joined last November. I won’t have a job, and I’ll be-”

“I’d never let anything happen to you,” he said thoughtfully. It startled me just how intently he gazed at me, but I knew he did so only to emphasise how much he meant it. “You know that, right? I’d do anything for you.”

“Yes, I do, but... You have to know how crazy you sound right now-”

“I’ve been crazy about you from the moment I saw you, Y/n,” he simpered, his eyes beaming at me as he lifted his hands and held the sides of my face. At this moment, he was mere inches away from me. “Tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

I paused for a moment, as I mulled over what he had admitted to. I considered denying my feelings. That would have been the wiser decision concerning the legal career I had worked so hard to build. But I just couldn’t go through with it.

“I can’t,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. From the way Frank began grinning, I knew he had heard me. Crystal clear.

“So let me take you out when you come back-”

At this point, I knew I wasn’t going to turn him down. I wondered if the year’s worth of flirting on the job was a ploy of his; a way to get me to go from finding him irritating to irresistible.

“You’re not gonna be hooking up with other women while I’m gone?” I smirked, though I was partially fearful of how he would respond to my question. I couldn’t imagine I was the only woman who was charmed by him, and I doubted he spent his Saturday nights at home.

I expected his face to fall. For Frank to realise just how long I would be gone, and immediately regret ever asking me out in the first place. However, he surprised me again by remaining unfazed. This was either because his game was just that good, or because he was just that deadset on taking me out for dinner, even if it meant waiting a month. I liked to believe the latter.

“Not when the only woman I want is halfway across the country.” He smirked, and I tried to suppress the grin that was threatening to appear of my face. His hands dropped to my waist, and he pulled me closer to him. I placed my hands on his chest, trying to savour the moment before I left. “What do you say?”

“Okay,” I whispered, smiling at him as I nodded my head. He grinned, before bringing his hands back up to the sides of my face. Something told me he was not going to let go of me anytime soon. 

“Yeah?” He asked, moving his head closer to mine until our foreheads just about touch.

“Yeah,” I repeated.

Before another moment could pass, he gently pushed the back of my head with his fingers until our lips met in the middle. He kissed me softly and slowly, yet with a fiery passion. I never knew it could be achieved in just one kiss. My heart was no longer pounding. For a moment, I could have sworn it stopped beating altogether.

I didn’t want the moment to end. I was not yet ready to break away from Frank, let alone leave his embrace. But when Bonnie’s footsteps sounded across the house, Frank and I found each other pulling away instantly. Before Bonnie entered the living room, I ducked down and tried to fix my lipstick, which Frank had managed to smear very visibly in what was barely a minute-long kiss. 

I did not mind at all.

“Here are the Boyd files,” Bonnie announced, as she handed me a golden manilla folder, with an enclosed document detailing Mr Boyd’s personal details. She looked at Frank and me questioningly. It didn’t help that he and I were doing a terrible job at acting natural.

Fortunately, the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway allowed me to break the risky silence.

“That’s my cab,” I said, instinctively reaching down to grab my suitcase. Frank quickly dived down and gripped the handle on my bag before I could get the chance to. 

“I got it,” he mumbled, before standing back up. My suitcase had four wheels and a retractable metal hand bar. Even so, Frank made a point to hold it up himself. Before he turned towards the door and headed out, he glanced back at me, a proud smirk appeared on his face.

I bit my lips as I tried to suppress a grin. Frank's charming demeanour had even more of an effect on me now that I knew his true intentions. Not to mention the fact that he had just finished offering a very intense demonstration on just how good of a kisser he was.

When he finally left to load my bag into the cab, I reached for my mug. I turned back to Bonnie, only to realise she had been watching mine and Frank’s interaction very intently, and seemingly with a lot of concern.

“I know that look,” she droned. I couldn’t tell if it was disapproval or disappointment prevalent in her tone, but it was clear she was displeased by what she saw.

“I-I don’t-”

“Y/n,” she began, uncrossing her arms so she could place her hand on my shoulder. I grew to really trust Bonnie. She was a mentor to me, but even more so, she was a trusted friend and confidant. “I know Frank is as charming as he is handsome, but believe me... you can’t trust him like that.”

“You don’t know that,” I said softly. I wasn’t trying to undermine Bonnie's concern, so much as I was trying to give Frank the benefit of the doubt.

My feelings for him only grew stronger the more time I spent with him. The fact that Bonnie was trying to convince me to feel otherwise was deflating, to say the very least.

“What did he say to you?” She asked, her eyes piercing mine as she stared intently at me. When I didn’t respond immediately, she took that as her cue to keep going. “Let me guess then... He said he’s crazy about you... Has been since the moment he met you, and that you’re the only woman he wants?”

My mouth fell agape. I tried to keep myself from reacting too emotionally. Since the beginning of my legal career, I had been trying to coach myself to suppress any physical trace of emotion or vulnerability. Here, that was considered a woman’s weakness.

“Frank sleeps with every girl that walks through those doors,” she explained, gesturing towards the front door to Annalise’s home office. I knew she was not only referencing to clients and employees, but to the students, Annalise invites in every year from the university she teaches in. “I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do... but I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

I nodded, sighing heavily as I looked down at the floor. I had a lot to think about during my month away from Philadelphia.

*****

In the month I was gone, I found out from Bonnie that Annalise chose five students to join her clinic as opposed to her traditional four. In a further turn of events, I found out from my younger brother, Wes, that he was among the chosen five. He and I grew up together until our mother’s untimely death. 

Following that tragedy, Wes was adopted, and I moved in with my father, who helped to make sure my brother and I stayed in contact.

“So first you don’t tell me you enrolled at Middleton,” I grumbled, as my brother helped me unload my suitcase from the cab I was picked up at the airport in. I led him towards the elevator of my apartment building. “And then, I’m the last to find out you’re not only in Annalise’s class but that you’re one of the Keating Five.”

Once he wheeled my suitcase in, I pressed the button with my floor number on. Afterwards, I turned to my brother and glared at him. I was not actually angry at him, but I was slightly offended he didn’t keep me in the loop, and I was not about to let him live it down. 

“What do you think people will assume when they find out my sister is one of Annalise’s associates?” He reasoned, wheeling my suitcase out once the elevator doors opened back up. I led him to my apartment door and rummaged through my bag before fishing out my key. 

“Point taken,” I sighed, opening the door so Wes could take my bag in. I followed him inside and showed him where to put it down. “But I’m not involved in who Annalise chooses for her clinic. Only Bonnie and Frank are. It would have been nice to know.”

He sighed, putting my suitcase down on my sofa just as I had told him to. Since our mom died, I became really protective of my relationship with Wes, especially when we got separated. I hated being kept in the dark when it came to his life, and he knew this.

“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “No more secrets from now on... I promise.”

I smiled, satisfied with his vow. Briefly after, he and I made our way out and down to where the courthouse was, which was mere walking distance away. Annalise was in the middle of a new case. 

Frank was responsible for catching me up in-person, which I had been excited and eager for simultaneously. Ever since Bonnie told me about his reputation, I felt conflicted about my feelings towards him. Nonetheless, I still missed his company: his calloused hands and covert flirting.

Wes and I walked into the courtroom together but broke off. He headed to where the other four students, of the Keating Five, stood, whilst I approached Frank. Once he noticed me walking towards him, he slowly began to smirk.

“You’re back.”

“I did promise, remember?” 

“Yes, you did,” he replied, pulling me close for a quick hug. After pulling away, he led me down the corridor, assumably to the boardroom where Annalise and Bonnie were. “Now let me hold up my end of the deal... Tomorrow night, dinner at my uncle’s restaurant. Sound good?”

“Why don’t we focus on our jobs first, hotshot,” I smirked, reaching out and snatching the files he held in his hands. 

“You never told me puppy was your brother,” he said, nodding towards where my brother stood. I furrowed my brows in confusion. Since Wes took his adoptive parents’ last name, most people would never know he and I are siblings if we didn’t explicitly tell them. “A little investigation and I found out Wes Gibbons was actually Christophe Edmonds.”

I finally looked up from the files and stared at Frank, dumbfounded. When Wes’ adoptive family renamed him, I had to go along with it, so I could stay in contact with him. I, on the other hand, kept my name. First and last.

“Frank,” I warned, concerned about what he did with this information. It was less surprising that he found this out, as Annalise typically left him to do background checks on our clients and students. “Were you the one who picked my brother?”

Bonnie and Frank were both able to chose one student each every year. The other respective members were decided at Annalise’s discretion. 

“Guilty as charged,” he smiled. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. My brother specifically kept me in the dark so he could be chosen on his own merits. I couldn’t imagine his disappointment if he found out Frank chose him because just to appease me. “Hey, he’s a good kid. Even Annalise told me she liked him. The fact that his sister’s the hottest girl in Philly is just... an added bonus.”

“Frank.”

I jumped at the sound of Annalise’s voice. Frank looked up as I turned around to face her. She marched over with her classic briefcase in her hand. Looking between Frank and me, she maintained an unamused expression.

“Keep it in your pants,” she muttered at Frank, prompting me to fight the urge to laugh at his sheepish reaction. Annalise turned to me and noted the files in my hand. “Y/n, it’s good to have you back... I trust you caught yourself up on the case, while Frank was busy flirting.”

“Yes ma’am,” I answered, handing her the manilla folder, satisfied with the amount of information I had gathered. 

He and I followed Annalise down to the students. 

“Listen up,” she called out. “The prosecution’s rested, so the next witness to take the stand will be Max’s daughter. I need someone to write up the prep questions.”

A brunette, standing behind two of the students, pushed through. With her notebook clutched in her hands, she spoke up before any of the other four could.

“I’ll do it,” she volunteered.

“Frank’s girl,” Annalise muttered. I cocked an eyebrow and glance at Bonnie, who offered an apologetic nod. It was no wonder she refused to tell me who she or Frank chose for the Keating Five. Even after I nagged her about it for a week over the phone. “Have it on my desk by midnight.”

After Annalise dismissed the students, Bonnie, Frank and I were also evident for the day. The students went with Bonnie back to the office while I headed for the doors so I could go home. 

Not only was I fatigued from jet lag, but I was not in the mood to talk to Frank, let alone discuss having dinner with him anytime soon.

The only upside to this revelation was that Wes hadn’t gotten chosen simply because I work for Annalise.

“Y/n,” he called out, racing towards me as I sped out the doors of the courthouse. Just as I was about to begin sprinting, Frank jogged and got in front of me, obstructing me from going any further. “Hey... So when did you want to grab dinner?”

“Why don’t you ask Laurel Castillo?” I sneered.

“Y/n, c’mon... It’s not what you thinl.”

“Oh, no?” I said incredulously. “You lied about picking my brother because you knew damn well that if you told me who actually picked, I would have punched that stupid smirk off your face. Take her to dinner, because I don’t even wanna look at you.”

I half-expected he would do that. Annalise had mentioned to me that Frank typically chose based on who he wanted to sleep with. What upset me the most was that he lied to me. I didn’t like being treated like another stupid young girl Frank wanted to get in bed. 

I thought he had more respect for me than that.

“It wasn’t like that,” he repeated louder, gripping my forearm to keep me from walking away. I glared at him. At that point, he was insulting my intelligence.

“Then why’d you pick her, huh?... Which college did she go to? What was her GPA? What made her stand out from the rest of Annalise’s students?... Was it her work ethic?... her ambition?... or her ass?”

Frank flinched as my voice grew louder and louder to the point where I was just screaming at him. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time he had heard me raise my voice. This was, however, the first time my yelling was directed at him.

“Bonnie was right, I should have never trusted you,” I spat angrily. I regretted ever kissing him, and ever humouring his flirting. Especially now that there would be no way of avoiding him since we work together. “Maybe you get a kick out of sleeping with every girl Annalise brings into the clinic, but I don’t want anything to do with you. From now on, we're colleagues... Nothing more.”

I shook my hand free from his grasp and walked to my apartment.

****

It had been over a month and a half since my fight with Frank. Following that day, I made it a point not to speak to him. However, that didn’t seem to stop him from relentlessly trying to get me to forgive him, let alone say something to him. Annalise eventually noticed that I was avoiding Frank and made me vow not to let it affect my work as her paralegal.

It was the night of Middleton’s traditional bonfire shindig when Annalise asked me to go to her home and pick up some files from a past case. I had told her I already had them with me, to avoid her badgering me further about it. On my way there, I received a phone call from my brother. 

“Remember, when I promised no more secrets?”

That was one way to greet me over the phone. Instinctively, I checked over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening in on my conversation. My brother sounded even more ominous than he did typically.

“Yeah,” I replied hesitantly. 

“I may have been keeping a big one from you.”

In our brief phone conversation, he hastily explained the situation at hand. Wes had to keep it short to keep the call from being traceable, so I tried my best to follow along.

“You’re saying Annalise’s husband killed Lila? Sam-mother-fucking-Keating?!”

Before Wes could respond, he had to hang up, prompting me to go from walking to Annalise’s office to sprinting there. 

By the time I reached her home, Sam was unconscious on the ground and all five of Annalise’s students, as well as Rebecca, were standing around panicking. I was not being paid enough to deal with this. 

“Y/n?” Michaela’s expression froze in terror. Connor shoved Wes, as the rest of them began to panic even more. I slowly walked in.

“You called your sister?!” Asher shrieked.

As the six of them began talking over each other, each voice sounding all the more panicked and afraid than the other. I sighed. As much as this was unchartered territory for me as well, I had to take some initiative. I was the oldest and most experienced of those who still conscious in the room.

“We need to come up with a cover story,” I said.

“Are you insane?!” Michaela cried, sitting on the couch and placing her head in her hands. It was fair of her to say that. But with what I just walked into, it was either come up with a cover story of fess up.

“She’s right,” Rebecca spoke up, standing up from where she sat.

“You can’t be serious,” Connor scoffed.

“Sam’s dead, because of all six of us,” Rebecca shouted, sending chills down my spine. I expected to walk in on something out of pocket and dangerous, but a murder scene was not it. “-and maybe that’s okay. He killed Lila, and he was gonna let me go down for it. It’s-”

Rebecca’s rant was cut off short by the sound of someone choking. We all turned around, only to see Sam very much conscious, sitting on top of my brother with his hands clutched around his neck. I let out a scream, and Michaela called for someone to get Sam off Wes.

We were delayed in responding, too overcome by fear and shock to act instantly. When we finally did begin moving, I followed my first instinct- to protect my baby brother. 

Hearing him choke. Watching him struggle to stay alive. It felt all too familiar. It had too much resemblance to the day I found my mother’s corpse in the kitchen of our home. That was a catalyst for Wes growing up away from me. I was not about to stand by and let him be taken from me. 

Not again.

I grabbed the first thing I could find, which ended up being a trophy. Sam stared down at my brother with cold-blooded fury in his eyes. He didn’t hear me approaching him. When I struck the back of his head, he had no idea what was coming.

And just like that, blood splattered over Wes’ face and across the hem of my dress. I dropped the trophy, and Sam fell down with it. Blood began oozing out of his skull, as Wes stood up and pulled me aside, hugging my torso tightly, just as he did in moments of crisis.

“He’s dead,” Michaela sunk to the floor in the corner of the room. She began repeating what she said over and over to herself through sobs and wails. 

“Go,” Wes whispered to me.

“W-what?” I spluttered, still trying to recover from the shock and trauma of what I had just done. “I can’t leave you here... I-I just-”

“I’ve got you,” Wes whispered, placing a kiss on my forehead. I was his big sister, yet he was the one willing to carry the burden of my mistake. “I won’t let anything happen to you, just go. We’ll figure something out.”

The rest of the students were distraught, and subsequently to distracted to notice me flee the scene. I knew I was going to do everything in my power to help them, but for then all I could do was listen to my brother. As I held my coat closed, to hide the blood splattered over my dress, I made my way down the pavement.

I tried to amble. Not too slow to draw attention, but just enough to conceal how freaked out I was. I felt a vibration from my pocket. After checking to make sure my hands were clean, I opened my phone only to see notifications of 23 unread text messages and 10 missed calls—all from Frank.

I looked up and realised his apartment wasn’t too far from where I was, so I decided to head there. In an attempt to draw attention away from me, I went through his text messages- starting from the one he sent most recently.

“Y/n please just come over and I’ll explain everything. I’m an idiot.

Sent 30mins ago”

Once I got to his door, I put my phone away. I knocked twice, just loud enough for him to hear, but not so loud as to alarm any nearby residents. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one had followed me or was in a position to be able to hear me.

Thankfully, Frank opened the door quickly. I had been avoiding him for so long, it surprised me how he looked. His eyes were slightly puffy and red. He hadn’t shaved in a while. His hair was rugged and messy, as opposed to slicked back like normal. He seemed surprised to see me. Before he could say my name, I began sobbing violently.

“I-I did something,” I cried. “Something really really bad and... and I don’t know what to do, I-I don’t-”

Frank pulled me into his apartment, closing the door behind me and locking it. All of his blinds were completed and windows shut. He clearly had a hunch as to what I was about to confide in him about because he knew exactly what to do.

He led me to his couch, and we both sat down.

“I-I... I killed Sam,” I confessed in a hushed whisper. I slowly opened my coat to show him the blood splatter on my dress. He didn’t even flinch. I knew about his history, but I never expected it provide me with so much comfort as it did at that moment. “H-He was gonna strangle Wes, and I-I didn’t know what I was doing until I did it.”

As I continued to explain what had happened, in a blubbering nonsensical mess, I felt myself spiral out of control.

“The o-others are still there... W-Wes said he would handle it but I... I’m so scared of what's gonna happen,” I had gone from sobbing to wailing. I began empathising with Michaela and how distraught she was immediately after I killed Sam. “If he takes the fall for me, h-he’ll... Sam’s a wealthy white man, t-they’re not gonna have mercy on me o-or my brother. And it’s all my fault... I-I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m gonna get you a change of clothes,” he explained, gripping my hand tightly in his. Before, the feeling of his calloused hands in mine had only ever been associated with our flirty relationship. That night, those hands became my safe haven; the only thing keeping me grounded and making me feel safe. 

“I’ll get you and Wes an alibi that you’ll both have to remember. We’ll go over your cover story until you have it memorised. You can stay here for the night. I’ll call the others, and... I’ll call Annalise and stall her and... I’ll go back later tonight to make sure the scene is cleaned, and the body is gone.”

“Okay,” I nodded. 

Despite our previous conversation being our fight, I trusted him; I did so with my whole being. Not only did he come up with a solution at a rapid speed, but I knew Frank’s loyalty. I knew he was giving me his word when he explained how he would help me. I knew he would follow through for me.

“Look at me,” he said, caressing my cheek to keep me from shaking even more than I already was. I forced myself to meet his gaze, and I was grateful for it. “Remember what I said before?- I’m not letting anything happen to you, okay? They’re gonna arrest me before they even think of touching you or Wes, I promise... You trust me?”

I nodded furiously, before sighing heavily, letting out a cry as I did so. Frank wrapped his arms around me and didn’t let go until I pulled away first. Once he did, he got me to get changed into a pair of his old shirts and sweatpants. Then, he gave me the leftovers from his dinner to eat while he made a few phone calls. Though I wondered who he was calling, and how he had so many contacts that could help him fabricate an alibi for me- I didn’t question it.

I needed his help, and Frank was doing everything to protect me. That was more than enough of an explanation for me. 

At least it was, for now.

“Here’s the story,” he began, after hanging up his phone. I placed the plate of spaghetti he gave me down on his coffee table, and I listened intently. “You were at the bonfire, when I texted you to come over. Luckily, you have dozens of messages from me. You then spent the night here before leaving tomorrow morning for the hearing, with me... I’ve already call the others. They’ll be ok.”

I nodded, repeating the story to myself until it was etched in my memory. Frank took my empty plate and headed towards his kitchen. It was only a matter of time before he would have to leave to clean the murder scene, and to make check up on the others.

I glanced over at him. He began washing my plate along with his other dishes. I got up from the couch and sauntered towards him. Before he could realise I was behind him, I snaked my arms his waist and rested my chin on the crook of his neck. I could feel his breath hitch. With damp hands from the soap water, he held my arms.

“Thank you,” I murmured. 

Frank turned around to face me. He placed his hands on the sides of my face and kissed my temple fervently. I smiled, lifting my head up only to see him smiling as he gazed down at me. He pulled me closer to him until our lips collided. His hands were damp, but I couldn’t care less. 

Bonnie was wrong in claiming that Frank couldn’t be trusted.

I couldn’t think of anyone who would do what he did for me that night; who would help me establish an alibi and hide the corpse of the man I killed. In hindsight, there was no one I could imagine confiding in but him. No other person whose embrace could make me feel as safe as I did in Frank’s arms. No one I could imagine trusting with the darkest of my mistakes but Frank Delfino.

There was no one I trusted more.

[bookaddict24-7]

I said at the beginning of the year that I would share my reviews more on my blog instead of just on Instagram and Goodreads. I’ve been reading a lot so far this year, so my reviews will be delayed on here.

Friend me on Goodreads here to read my reviews in real-time!

___

107. Amari and the Night Brothers by B.B. Alston--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Wow, this book had more of a punch than I anticipated! I think books like this one are super important--not just because of the content, but because of the audience it's geared towards. Young readers now are learning more and more about society than a lot of us did at their age, so I think it's perfectly fitting that a book like this one is out there for kids to devour. One of the things I liked the most about this book was the allegory of racism in a magical community. Usually in fantastical novels for kids (older ones, anyway), there's this belief that no matter what you look like, the moment you go to another magical place all of your worries about racism goes away because MAGIC. But in this one, not only did our MC have to contend with the racism in her normal life, she had to face more racism in her new life, just with a new title. So many of the actions taken against her by those around her, and the comments (like putting her brother on a pedestal because he was the star of the school and calling him the exception to the rule, or one girl actively telling her that "You can take the girl out of the ghetto, but not the ghetto out of the girl) really made me think that this poor kid went from one ignorant situation to another. Not only is she trying to find her brother and solve the mystery of his disappearance, but she also has to deal with racist and ignorant people around her. Imagine calling a child evil because of something they can't control. Imagine going out of your way to ensure that they fail. Imagine you or your child hearing the things this child heard while trying to just do her best in a system that's always been made to be against her, both in the human world and in the magic world. Imagine, imagine, imagine. Another thing I loved about this book was her resilience. She is brave, and smart, and has such a big future in this new world of hers. I'm so excited to read the rest of this series as it comes out. This book was POWERFUL and I highly recommend it. Not just for the young readers in your life, but I think parents and other readers would highly benefit from reading Amari's story.

___

108. Mindy Kim & the Yummy Seaweed Business by Lyla Lee--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Okay, this book was ADORABLE. I haven’t read a 6-8 book in a long time and I’m thankful to my friend on Instagram who recommended these books! Mindy has to deal with not only her grief about losing her mom and her dad’s busy schedule (as well as his own grief), but she’s also at a new school in a new State where she is the only Asian student. I’ve mentioned this in some of my most recent reviews, but I love that these important topics are being discussed in children’s books. We see moments of racism in this book where Mindy is left upset, even if she doesn’t fully understand just why certain comments and actions are so hurtful. And even if she doesn’t dwell on it, a parent reading this with their little one would notice and hopefully learn if they see their own behaviours mirrored in the actions of some of these adults. But we also see moments of kindness and love as a young girl tries her best to find ways to make her dad happy. Despite the heavier undertones in this book, there was an overall feel of sweetness and childhood innocence. The ability to apologize when you know you’re in the wrong, the innocence of emotions getting away from you, and the sweetness of a daughter loving her father. This was a great read and I highly recommend it for everyone, but especially the little ones in your life who will be entering situations where books like these and their lessons are really important.

___

109. The Dead Zone by Stephen King--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one, I felt, held more of an emotional punch rather than a creepy feeling. I really enjoyed it! I loved the psychic angle and the MC proving the people who didn’t believe him or mocked wrong. Also, this was a King book that actually made me want to cry at the end. I didn’t give it a 5 because of some really slow moments. While I love that his stories always have a way of coming together at the end, certain scenes sometimes feel long, boring, or confusing. I’d recommend this for anyone who wants to read a King book that isn’t scary and if you’re a fan of 11/22/63!

___

110. Takane & Hana Vol. 1 by Yuki Shiwasu--⭐️⭐️⭐️

This one took me a while to read. I found that I wasn’t really in the mood to read it every time I picked it up—which is so different from when I pick up a manga I really want to read. The story had some funny bits and the artwork was gorgeous, but it really bugged me how every new chapter re-introduced the love interest. Over and over and over again. I get it: he’s rich, arrogant, and an asshole. Can’t you trust us to remember these key personality traits? But it wasn’t even just that. We were constantly re-introduced to the premise of the story. I don’t know how common this is WITHIN the same volume, but I haven’t encountered it yet—and if I have, it wasn’t as annoying as this one. I’ll keep reading the story because I’m curious, but this first volume was a bit of a rougher read for me.

___

111. You Have A Match by Emma Lord--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

I think the thing with this book is that the cover tells a different story than what really matters in this book. Yes, there’s a friends to more relationship in this, but the main storyline is about two girls who find out they’re sisters and are trying to solve that mystery. This isn’t a romcom—the romance is a super side story to the main storyline. And to be honest, I really enjoyed it. I wanted to see why these two sisters lived their whole life separated. I enjoyed the process and the friendships created along the way. I felt for the parents, but at the same time, I felt more for the girls. There were instances where I wanted to yell at the parents because they kept putting the reveal off. This was enjoyable overall—a great summer read. Not particularly memorable, but it does what it sets out to do: makes you question the strength of friendships and what they can overcome. Also, Instagram.

___

112. Patron Saints of Nothing by Randy Ribay--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

When my friend raved about this book I was both excited and intimidated. I usually try to avoid hypes surrounding books because I go in with too-high expectations and a lot of the time, the expectations crush me while I’m reading. Thankfully, the hype is very well-deserved with this one. For me, the most important aspect of this book that stuck with me wasn’t the mystery surrounding the MC’s cousin’s death, but the character growth the MC himself experiences during the time of his investigation. Identity sounds like a pretty clear cut thing sometimes, but it’s a lot harder to know your own when you’re the child of an immigrant family. You live in a new country, get accustomed to new expectations and customs, and inevitably feel a culture shock when you’re re-introduced to the culture your parents grew up in. I saw myself so much in this MC. From my childhood to my current adult years, people have thought that they could define me and who I am simply because I say I’m this or this. But while others make a quick judgment, they don’t see the internal struggle. They don’t see you questioning yourself on whether you’re enough of this, or whether you’re enough of that. I think teenage me would have loved this book even more. The MC is constantly faced with criticism about his father choosing to move them to the States from the Philippines. The judgments and the preconceived notions of him and his family make him not only weary because he recalls how his uncle treated his father the first time he visited, but also wary because it sets him down this road of self-reflection. I haven’t read many (if any, unfortunately) books where a character goes to the Philippines. I’m so thankful to this book. I learned so much about the culture, the foods, and the struggles faced not just financially, but politically as well. I remember reading about some of the topics brought up in this book and it was extremely eye-opening. It’s so easy for us to look away because we have that privilege, but this book says, “No, look at me. I exist.” The MC, in his journey, also learns to speak up and use his voice. Not just against ignorant friends, but an annoyingly smug and verbally abusive uncle (who I hated to all hell). He also learns to listen. He learns that though not every story is perfect, they still have power. I think this is a great read for those who have one foot in two different worlds (hands and arms can be in other worlds, too). Especially if you’re trying to understand this part of you that wasn’t developed as you grew up. I’d also recommend it to readers who want to learn more about this struggle, learn more about a different culture that is more than its stereotypes, and/or want to read about a young teenager trying to come to terms with his grief and guilt.

___ Have you read any of these books? Would you recommend them?

___

Happy reading!

[yourgalaxy]

~FINDING HOME~ (Part 5)

Pairing: Taehyung x female O/C

Genre: Fluffyest Fluffy Fluff, a little bit of angst if you squint really hard.

Summary: After getting used to the idea of just being her and her little daughter against the world. Autumn is proven wrong once again when fate has different plans for them.

Warnings: None

Word count: 2865

A/N: The original prompt is from @hybridfanfiction ( their prompts are the cutest, check them out!) This is my first attempt on sharing some of my work and is also my first hybrid fic. I love the reader inserts but not a fan of the Y/N type thing so feel free to just imagine your name instead if you prefer! I have material to make this a series but will leave it as a one shot for now to see if you guys like it! I totally don’t own the gifts.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. Read at your own risk 😂

Extra A/N: I didn’t get the chance to post this last week but to compensate you guys, I’ll be posting the first part of my new Mafia Au, so watch out for it!

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

After being living with Autumn and Haneul for a month and a half, Taehyung was finally meeting the rest of their family, he had already met Jin, Jimin and Jungkook and even though it was hard for him to trust them fully, he had decided that he liked the three males… Not that any of them really knew that because Taehyung still avoided them every time he could, though it was not really possible to avoid Jimin after he discovered that he and Taehyung were the same age and decided that they were to be best friends.

‘’ Mamma… MAMMA...Mamma, can Tata be my daddy?’’ - That finally caught Autumn’s full attention, she turned around making sure that the hybrid was still taking a shower, praying that he couldn’t hear them over the running water and his own singing voice. She rushed to kneel in front of her daughter. - ‘’ Haneul, baby, that’s not something that we should say...’’  ‘’ But mamma, he tells me stories to sleep and sings to me and tucks me in sometimes, all the kids have a daddy and…and  I saw it on tv, the daddy that lives together with you and your mamma, and tells you stories is your daddy! Does my Tata don’t want to be my daddy?’’ - Haneul’s pretty eyes swelled with unshed tears at the idea, and Autumn could have sworn that she heard her own heart break. - ‘’ No honey bear, you know your Tata loves you very, very much! He tells you that all the time, right? It’s just that for a woman and a man to be a mommy and a daddy they have to really really love each other a lot. - She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with her 5 year old daughter, her flushed little face was destroying her heart. -  

"But momma, don't you love Tata?" - Autumn could practically see the engines in her daughter's head starting to over think, tears threatening with reappearing.- "I do sweetheart, I do, but it's just a little bit different for adults, you know, adults are dumb sometimes and things don't work the same for us...Let’s talk about it later, ok? we need to go see your uncles!"

"Noona, I'm ready!" - Autumn felt her soul come back to her body when Taehyung decided to appear, giving her the chance to escape the impossible conversation she was having with her daughter. She smiled at him, noticing the way he was referring to her, she was almost sure that it had to do with spending so much time with Jimin.- 

The drive to Yoongi’s apartment was filled with loud singing and laughs. The prospect of getting together with her best friends had Autumn in a really good mood, and even though Taehyung felt really nervous, the smiles on both mother and daughter’s faces helped him breathe easier. He knew most of the men they were getting together with but the fact that they were actually entering the territory of another hybrid, one that he hadn’t met yet, was nerve wracking. He was worried that his instincts would get the best of him and he would piss Autumn’s loved ones off, how would Autumn react? what would she think of him? would she start hating him if her friends didn’t like him?

Taehyung didn’t have to wonder for too long. Everybody’s temper was tested when Hobi had to let go of Autumn as she was being yanked back by a strong arm towards a wide chest, a low growl vibrating against her back. Sensing the hostility in his own territory kicked Hoseok’s instincts on, even though Autumn and Haneul weren’t his humans, they were part of his family and he felt really protective of them, so soon there was a battle of growls and silent snarls. For a few moments none of them really acknowledged the attempts of the others to calm them down. 

‘’ Tata, don’t be mean to uncle Hobi, I promise he is really nice!’’ - Haneul’s innocent voice and the way she hugged his leg was what brought Taehyung back to his senses . As soon as he stopped growling, Hoseok did the same, he understood where the younger hybrid was coming from, he remembered being in the same place a few years ago, he wasn’t about to let him cross the line in his territory, establishing hierarchy was a basic hybrid instinct anyway, but he was also excited for the new addition to the friend group even if he was not about to show that at the moment. -

Taehyung was utterly embarrassed about his conduct and after a solid ten minutes of being scolded first by Autumn an then by Jimin, he just wanted to curl up into a ball in a corner and cry his heart out, but they were so loving even when scolding him that  he couldn't even do that. He hesitated but ultimately approached Hoseok who was setting things up for the movie night. 

‘’Hyung… I… I’m really sorry about earlier… it’s not really excuse for my behavior but…”- Before he could finish his apology, he was attacked by a very effusive fox hybrid, Hoseok was bouncing on the balls of his feet, too excited by the idea of having a new hybrid friend, Taehyung couldn’t help the smile that divided his lips.-

‘’ I’m really sorry about that, Yoongs. Taehyung is a little bit weary of males, and new environments are a little hard for him to take in.’’ - Autumn was worn out by the whole scene, feeling sorry and guilty for everyone in the room, she didn’t blame Taehyung, she knew well enough of his apprehension towards males and she knew how protective hybrids could get when facing threats to who they considered their people, specially in the presence of other hybrids. She remembered the first time she met Hoseok with a shiver. But she couldn’t stop feeling bad for her friends. It was their home at the end of the day.- 

‘’ Hoseok, really likes him, I can see it in his face that he already is taking him under his wing. I don’t think we will have any problem. - Yoongi assured with a wink as he motioned towards the three hybrids that seem to have engaged in an enthusiastic conversation about what movies to watch, after Jimin joined them in the living room. Autumn felt her body relax, realizing how worried she was until that moment, a soft smile appearing on her face. -

‘’ Uncle Yoongi, up!’’ - A new battle arised, this time, between Yoongi and Jungkook fighting over who was Haneul’s favorite with Haneul enjoying herself in the shower of attention and love she was getting. -

‘’ He really is the right fit, isn’t he?’’ - Jin's voice came from behind her before a pair of arms encircled her shoulders. She let herself relax in his embrace, feeling happy to be home, loving how her brothers embraced Taehyung so effortlessly.- ‘’ Haneul asked me if Taehyung could be her new dad’’ - She whispered, knowing that Jin was close enough to hear her and everyone else was so loud that she doubted they could hear her even if she were to scream it. She felt Jin humming in thought, it wasn’t a surprise to him even though this was the first time Haneul had ever said something like that. - It is good for her to have some kind of father figure in her life… And if he is sticking around for a while… How do you feel though? - She knew exactly what he was referring to, her an her friends never really payed any attention to the stigma that interracial relationships between humans an hybrids carried with them, but she had given up on dating a long time ago, men were too inmature, too insensitive and she didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with someone else’s child. - ‘’ I don’t know Jinnie, I haven’t really consider it, I mean, he is one of the most caring an loving people I’ve met, always looking out for both of us and looking for ways to collaborate, you know how happy he was when you offered him to work at the flower shop, an he loves Haneul so dearly, she loves him even more, I’m afraid she will get hurt if anything were to happen and he decided to leave… But we are not in that type of relationship, Jin. I am his sponsor and he is our hybrid, and I’m totally fine with that.’’ - Jin left a soft brief kiss on top of her head, hugging her a little closer.- 

‘’Then there is nothing to worry about, Mamma Bear.’’ - Autumn closed her eyes in contentment, right on time to miss the look that Taehyung directed to them, but Jin was able to catch the turmoil of emotions that twirled in his eyes. A knowing smile dancing on his lips, He knew how dense Autumn could be when it came to this topic, it would be fun to see how these two would figure things out.He had the hunch that Taehyung was there to stay, and his hunches were usually right- 

‘’ Jin hyung, stop hoarding noona all to yourself and come sit, we are about to start the movie!’’ - Hoseok complained in a whine that Jin responded with a scoff before complaying and dragging Autumn with him.- ‘’Next time we should invite Namjoon, Yoongi hyung! ‘’

 ‘’ Yeah, I like him’’ - Autumn and Jungkook agreed and Yoongi just nodded lazily. Asking them to be quiet and start the movie. Autumn’s fingers  immediately found their way through Taehyung’s soft locks when he seated himself on the ground in front of her, resting his head on her knee, missing the heavy tears that rolled across his cheeks. -

…

Autumn woke up gasping for air, her heart felt like it was held in an iron grip, she couldn’t breath, and for a minute she wondered if she was about to die. She didn’t realize she was crying until she rubbed her hands over her face and felt the wetness on her cheeks. The images of the nightmare are very vivid in her mind. It was the same nightmare she had had ever since Ha Neul's dad had left, just that this time, there was a spin to it that made her sick to her stomach.

She didn’t notice Taehyung sitting on the ground next to the door until after, in her fuzzed state of mind, she almost fell over him, being stabilized by his firm hands, she heard him whimper. Her eyes filled with tears one more time as she felt herself getting lost in his bright brown orbs. She straightened up and as she pulled on her arms to free them from the Hybris grip, Taehyung let go of her. He soon trailed behind her, buzzing with worry. 

Autumn wasn’t sure for how long she was zoning out with the untouched glass of water firmly held in her hand, when she felt Taehyung’s larger hand over hers as he loosened her grip, taking the glass away from her and holding her hand on his. She followed him almost unconsciously as he led her to the couch. He sitted and then led her to sit almost on his lap, they were so close that when his hand cooped the side of her face to have her look at him, she could feel his warm cinnamon breath fanning against her skin. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, Taehyung was tracing invisible circles over the skin of her jaw and cheek with the pad of his thumb, both of them getting lost in each other’s eyes when he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘’ Please… Please don’t cry, don’t be sad… It hurts so much… It hurts so, so much’’ - He knew about her nightmares, at least the ones that she usually had where her ex-husband abandoned her and Haneul over and over again, she had mentioned them once when he found her just zoning out in the living room, unable to go back to sleep after a nightmare. His voice was strained, it sounded like it was in the bearge of breaking. As she remained silent, he gained some courage from the wonder and affection that her eyes always seemed to reflect when she looked at him. He traced over her face with the tip of his nose, in one of the most intimate shows of affection for hybrids, subtly breathing her in. She felt her cheeks burn as her heart threatened with leaving her chest, but didn’t make any attempt to move away from his touch. -

 ‘’ If you would just let me… If you will just look at me the way… If only I could become a man in your eyes. - He closed his eyes as he rested his forehead over hers, a pained expression claiming his sharp features. His lips almost brushing over hers as he spoke. Autumn felt so vulnerable, yet so safe there in his embrace. She took the opportunity to notice all of his little details like the cute little freckles in his nose, his left cheek and the side of his chin, or the way his long lashes rested on top of his cheek bones as he closed his eyes, his rosy lips an the natural blush that seemed to be always present over his honey like skin. Taehyung was simply breathtaking.

Her fingers brushed against his jaw line in an almost hesitant movement, skimming over his skin in a feather like touch but it got him to relax immediately, the frown disappearing, he let out a relieved sigh, the feeling of her touch over his skin felt like a lullaby to his heart. But then there was something soft and sweet pressed against his parted lips, his heart pounded against his ribcage. The contact lasted mere seconds making him whine in the absence of it. He opened his eyes, facing the storm on hers. She was searching for his reaction, he could see the fear aflame in the depth of her grey orbs.

 He knew at that very moment that he would give his life for this woman in a blink. 

‘’ Noona...Can you do that again?’’ - He breathed out a plea over her lips, his eyes going back and forth from her eyes to her lips as if he was begging her, and he was, by all means ready to beg for her. She moved painfully slowly, her eyes also wandering over his face until her lips met his once again and this time, Taehyung took his time to savor her, his hand sneaked to the back of her head to keep her in place, he felt so blissfully light headed that he wouldn’t be surprised if he was to wake up the next morning and realize that it was just another dream. He almost cried out loud when she pulled away from him. 

‘’ Taehyung… I... ‘’ - He didn’t want to hear it, he didn’t want to know what her eyes were trying to say. He could sense the confusion, the fear that rolled out of her like crashing waves. The little bit of her conversation he had overheard a few weeks ago back at Yoongi’s apartment playing over and over in his head.’I’m just his sponsor and he is our hybrid’ she had said crushing the fluttering hope that had erupted in his chest when he had heard how she told Jin about. Haneul asking if he could be her dad, he wasn’t able to hear the whole conversation but what he heard was enough for him to understand his place in their lives. 

He had convinced himself that he was completely ok with that, he was happy to at least be allowed to just stay with them but after the moment they just shared he understood how greedy he had become and how much of them he wanted. He couldn’t take it.

‘’ It’s because I’m a hybrid, right? ‘’ - He murmured more to himself than anything else but she heard him and tried to stop him in a panicked attempt. He couldn’t take it, he needed to get out, he needed some time to think. -

And so, he ran. His heartbeat was so loud that it was the only thing he could hear. So loud that he couldn’t hear her

‘’No, that’s not...no, please no… Don’t leave us… Don’t leave me’’ - Autumn could feel the panic attack closing her throat. Incapable of really moving to try and console her hysteric 5 year old that had woken up to the image of her beloved hybrid hero running away and her mom becoming a crying mess. -

[latetheff]

Late - Chapter 1

Turn Back Time

Chris Evans x Becky London Raiting: Mature Warnings: This is a grown up kind of story, people will make mistakes, do stupid shit and possibly treat each other in not the best way - if this is a problem for you, I advise you not to read. Other than that, I'll try to tag everything, if you see something that might be trigging and it's not tagged, please, let me know.

A/N: It would be great to read you opinion about this fic!

Is the past a happy place even when it is full of problems? Cause she’s not sure if it’s okay to want back so much a relationship that didn't even work. The short time they’ve been together is a confusing memory - everything was just too much. They had fun, they were absolutely delighted to be in each other's company and they clicked just so amazingly - the kiss, the hugs, the sex - it was just perfect. Everything but her jealousy. And her lack of communication skills. And the fact that she would lie and try to hurt him for hurting her - even if he wasn’t even aware of it. Yeah, she sucks pretty bad.

Becky learned very soon that things wouldn’t function between them. He’s prince charming in person and the only royal thing about her is the spoiled way she was raised. She didn’t consider herself an arrogant person, but she’s aware of all the things she should be able to do to be considered a competent adult and how far away from it she is. At first, she thought she would try and catch up, but the fact that he’s so independent and self-sufficient got her intimidated and she only knows how to fix her problems in a destructive defensive way. To be with him was an exercise in facing her own futility. She was certain the only reason for him to want her is her beauty, fame, intensity, cause she assumes she has nothing else to offer.

She’s talented - that’s something she believes in and the contracts and buzzing around her confirms it - so she puts all her energy into it. Since the break, all she did was work. Now when she looks back at the phone and sees his text, she feels tired like she’s been running and holding her breath for years, although it took only two corridors and an elevator ride. Entering the hotel room, she hurries to the bed, taking out her sandals in the way, and sits, hugging a pillow.

She knows she should have worked on all the things wrong that got her out of that relationship 7 years ago, but she didn’t! She ignored everything and now it won’t work again! Not that she expected to ever have another chance with him, but she should have done it for herself! Instead, she jumped into work and blocked any kind of relationship reflection. This is as close as being able to turn back time but can she do things differently when she hasn't grown or learned anything? Is the weight on her shoulder enough to make her better and actually deserve another chance? Well, here goes nothing.

Hi. - great, very eloquent, she thinks

Can I call you? - Call her? Becky can’t deal with hearing his voice when the words alone are driving her nuts.

No. - Damn, what can she say to avoid this call and keep texting? He didn’t text anything back after her negative, probably imagining she didn’t want to have any contact with him. The truth, Becky, go with the truth.

I want to talk to you. Really. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to hear your voice.

Fuck, I thought you wouldn’t want to talk at all. How are you?

I’m in New York, I have an interview tomorrow and will be filming a campaign in two days. How are you?

Filming in Europe...looking at pictures of you like a lost puppy.

Why?

I’m not sure, I miss you.

I miss you too. I’m so sorry, Chris.

I’m sorry, darling. I wish I could turn back time and make it alright.

It wasn't your fault. At all.

I know it’s too late but I really want to talk to you and see if maybe the good things are still there, you know?

I would really like that too.

Let me call you.

Ok.

When he does, it’s a video call - not what she expected, but she accepts it anyway.

“Fuck, you look gorgeous” she hears him saying almost as if it’s a secret.

“You look tired” she whispers back, concerned about the weariness she can see in his eyes.

Chris gives her the most beautiful sarcastic smile before answering ”Thanks. It’s almost 4 am here, I couldn’t sleep.” He squinted his eyes trying to focus on a red stain on her pillow “Are you bleeding?"

��Oh, shit...yes.” Becky stands from the bed and hurries to the bathroom, taking the phone with her and placing it in front of the mirror as she gets her finger under the water, unaware of the way her dress is pulled to give him a view of her cleavage. “I cut my finger in a glass downstairs when you called and forgot to tend to it” the new information changes his attention away from the delicious curve of her breasts and all the flashbacks tempting him.

“What happened? Are you sure there’s no glass in it?” He asks worriedly, she can see his caring nature once again and it brings back a lot of good memories of the great guy he is.

“I was…” not sure if she should just say the truth and how she was about to fuck some essentially stranger; she looks down and closes the sink, toweling her hands “I want you back, Chris, but I don’t know if I deserve you.”

“Becky..” he tries to cut her but she keeps talking.

“No, that’s not true, I know I don’t. I wasn’t good to you back then and I didn’t work on my problems yet...You’re amazing, really, and I really do want you back, but I have to figure my mess out.”

“Darling, you talk as if you’re a monster. It didn’t work before but it doesn’t mean it was anyone’s fault...and anyway, we can talk and get everything straight. I really want to try again and if you want that too, the past doesn't matter much.”

She’s not sure if she agrees with his reasoning, but she wants to believe in it, in them. Smiling back at him, she gets the phone back and walks to the bed. “It’s been so long...we’ll have to get to know each other all over again.”

“I don’t mind that at all,” Chris tells her. “In fact, I look forward to it. Where are you living, darling?”

“I’m still with my parents...I mean, I’m never there so, it didn’t make sense to leave. You’re probably still in Mass, right?”

“Yep. New house, but yeah. I’ll be there in a month I guess...if it all goes well here. Are you able to visit?”

“I’ll make sure I am. You know this is one of the things I need to adjust in my life...I’m 32, I need to have my own house. I feel like I’m not even an adult, Chris...I don’t even drive! There you are trying to change the world and I can’t drive!”

He feels her getting anxious and the desire to hug her is so overwhelming that his eyes are filled with tears. “Babe, hey, it doesn’t matter. You’re 8 years younger than me. You have time to figure everything out and I’ll help if you let me. Don’t pressure yourself.”

“I miss you. One month you said?” she flirtatiously says.

“Yep,” he smiles, happy to know his feelings are being reciprocated. He tries hard but the yaws are not backing away anymore. She sees it and smiles softly at him, wishing she could be there to cuddle with him.

“Go to sleep, handsome. Call me tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I will. Hopefully this is not a dream.”

“Hopefully. I’ll wait for your call anyway.”

“Hey, I never asked where you were...you look really gorgeous.”

The call date was ending so well and this question will screw up everything. She wants him to go to sleep with a light heart and hope...not overthinking his decision of getting back together. So, she does one of the things that proves she’s not good enough for him. She lies.

“Photoshoot. I really need to take a bath and rest too. Good dreams, big guy.”

“Good night, babe.”

When they hung up, she threw herself back at the pillows - divided between opposite emotions - happiness for the new chance but disappointed with herself for ending the call with a lie. Old Becky says hi.

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part V

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,271

Note: I get really inspired by songs and I use some lyrics. This is the end of S1. :)

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8

You were outside the Sept of Baelor. Joffrey was so unpredictable you didn’t know what to expect. You wished Lord Eddard spoke the right words. Meanwhile, you told Sansa everything’s gonna be fine, that your older brother was going to spare his life and send him to the Night’s Watch. You wanted to believe that he was going to be merciful, that he held a bit of affection for his lady.

You haven’t had the time to grieve your father. Your mind was troubled, with the Lord of Winterfell confessing you that your three siblings were bastards. Worst of all, your uncle’s bastards. Your mother and he have had an incestuous relationship for only the gods know how long, it disgusted you. Though you don’t choose who to love. More so that she lied and outwitted your father for so many years. He was a horrible husband, no doubt. He had a lot of bastards too. This was entirely different. It was too much.

Now you were standing next to her and Lady Sansa. She was calm at first, certain her father would walk out alive. He was telling the truth all along. Uncle Stannis is the heir to the Iron Throne. Being born a woman made you third in line, you never really believed you would sit on that awful chair, your claim was stronger than Joffrey’s. You haven’t found Arya, that concerned you as well. You felt uneasy though you tried to remain relaxed.

“I come here to confess my treason. I broke the faith of my king and the trust of my friend Robert. I swore to protect his children but before his blood turned cold I plotted to murder his son. And seize the throne from myself.” Someone threw a rock to his head.

“Let the Hight Septon and Baelor the blessed be witness of what I say. That Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir of the Iron Throne by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” The blonde boy had a pleasing smile.

“The gods are just. But our beloved Baelor taught us that they also can be merciful. What is to be done with this traitor, your grace?” The old Maester asked. The people kept yelling things at him.

“My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard join the Night’s Watch. Strip him of all titles and powers, he will serve the Realm in permanent exile. And my lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father.” She hopefully smiled at him. “My sister, Princess Y/N, has also pleaded mercy for him. But they have the soft hearts of women.” Your heart began to race. “So as long as I am king treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head.”

“No! Please, please stop it!” Sansa cried.

“My son, this is madness.” Cersei said.

“Brother, don’t, please.” You begged but he didn’t listen to neither of you. A guard held Sansa while you swallowed and heard the screams of the common folk. “There’s no going back if you do this.” You insisted nudging his arm, he swiftly snatched back.

“Please no, no! Stop it!” She kept pleading. The Hound had to grab you. Ser Ilyn pull out the sword. You closed your eyes hearing the sound of his head hitting the ground. When you opened them Sansa passed out. The guard let her fall to the floor and Sandor let go of you. You kneeled and muttered “I’m sorry” before shouting for someone to lift her and get her to her room.

The following days were tense. The eldest Stark daughter didn’t speak to you, she was still in shock.

“Where is he?” You asked your lady mother when you didn’t see your oldest brother.

“He went to show your pathetic friend a surprise.” You ran to the spot and heard his irritating voice. They were staring at the pikes, well Joffrey was forcing her to. Ser Meryn was ready to strike her.

“Hey!” You stood in front of Sansa to avoid his rough hand impact her cheek, hitting yours instead.

“I’m sorry, princess. You got in the way.” You peered at Joffrey with anger filling your eyes.

“I told you a hundred times not to get involve when is not of your concern!”

“I don’t care. As long as I’m around I won’t let you strike her. Are you crazy? Her father was just killed and you make her look at his head rotting in that spike? That’s inhuman. You won’t lie a finger on her.”

“Are you threatening me? I am the King now, you can’t threaten me! Ser Meryn already did me the favor. But I won’t think it twice when you meddle with me, even if you are my sister.” And he passed beside you snorting. “See you in court.”

“Here, princess.” The hound handed you his handkerchief. You nodded in gratitude.

“My Princess... I’m so sorry, you shouldn’t have defended me. Look what he did to your face.” You cleaned the blood with the dirty tissue.

“It doesn’t matter. I would do it again. He can’t treat you like that. Enough he has done already. I would take any beating for you, my lady.”

“You are very brave. But this is wrong, you are his family. He is a monster.”

“He is.” She lifted her glance to stare at her father’s and her Septa’s. “You don’t have to look anymore. I will protect you, I swear it.” She buried her head into your chest, sobbing until she grew weary of it. You escorted her to her chambers and went to your own. You avoided your mother. You missed your siblings, but you wouldn’t let them see you wounded. Tommen entered your room, so it was too late.

“What happened, Y/N?” Tommen asked worriedly.

“I fell while sparring and hit myself with a- a rock.” You lied. He shook his head.

“Joffrey did this. I may be ten but I know things, you are my sister, I won’t let him abuse of his power as King! You should be Queen, you are kind to everyone.”

“It’s alright, little lion. You would be a fantastic King as well. You are already my knight in shining armor.” You kissed his forehead.

In the next few weeks you mourned your father. You found comfort in the northerner, she was there when you needed her the most.

“You are the only person I can trust. Without you I’d be lost with all these strange people.” She confessed.

“If I could I would take you back to Winterfell. The future is unclear, but I pray for you family to return home.”

“Thank you, pri-“

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” She corrected.

“I’m your friend, I’ll always be your friend. Make your limits be unknown. If you ever feel you can’t take it anymore, don’t break character.” You decided to change the subject. “So tell me, what is your favorite dessert?”

“Lemon cakes. I love them.” Her eyes lighted up.

“I’ll ask the cooks to make the most delicious lemon cakes Westeros has ever tasted.”

“You are the best.” Sansa smiled and you thanked the gods for sending to the world such a beautiful woman.

These months were getting better, at least the King wasn’t cruel to the redhead, rude, yes, luckily you seemed to be in the right place every time he tried to cross the line. You also spent more time with your younger siblings. Last words Ned Stark told you still rang in your mind and haunt you in your dreams.

[curiosity-killed]

through your eyes

5+1 of Malik seeing Altaïr’s Eagle Vision

Word Count: 3500

____________________________________________________________________

1. He first sees it on his first night in Masyaf.

He wants to wail, to scream until they bring Kadar back to him, but he is tired in a way that's deeper than his feet, sore from the hot miles, or his muscles, aching from carrying heavy gear. Deep within his chest, between lungs and spine, his soul rages like a wild thing, tearing and clawing at whatever it can reach, but on the surface, he can barely summon the energy to feel at all. His new roommate is quiet, at least. The white-robed stranger who led Malik here had introduced him as Altaïr, and that had been the end of conversation. They settle into the thin mattress, a careful space between them. It feels lonely, wrong, to have emptiness where normally Kadar would be wrapped around him till he could hardly move. Malik rolls onto his side, fidgety, and freezes. There are glowing eyes inches from him. No - reflective, like a cat's. They gleam gold and too-bright in the darkness. After a moment, Altaïr blinks and the gleaming irises disappear. There's a rustle and the mattress shifts as the other boy resituates himself. "Good night, Malik," he says. "Good night," Malik answers by rote. So. These hooded strangers are part djinn. Another time, the thought would have sent him running from the room, but now he can only summon the energy to roll onto his belly and stare into the shadows for a moment longer before he gives up and closes his eyes. He falls asleep with the consolation that there are surely stranger things waiting in his future.

2. There's something about Altaïr that's different. To their instructors, it's special; to their peers, it's weird. After living with him for a few years, Malik's opinion has settled somewhere in between the two. He's undeniably gifted - he excels in their lessons as if he was born for this purpose alone. It would be easier to dismiss if he was only skilled in one area, if he didn't breeze past everyone else in every subject from hand-to-hand combat to history. As it is, everyone who has seen him knows he is exceptional. Malik has even caught Al Mualim watching during their lessons, arms folded and expression inscrutable. He's also odd. His fondness for high perches borders on the unnatural, and he has a tendency to look at his fellow brothers as if they aren't quite there, as if he can see down to the marrow of their bones. It lends him an inhuman air, some times. Pupils and teachers alike have fled that eerie stare. And, of course, there is his Sight. "What's it mean?" Malik asks one night. They're sitting cross-legged on either side of their mattress, cleaning the short daggers they only just earned the right to bear. Earlier in the afternoon, they'd been split into pairs for an exercise in hiding and finding quarries. He and Altaïr had come in first easily; they are the top students in the class, but they were guided by Altaïr's Sight. Now, Altaïr shrugs. Malik waits. Though Altaïr is rarely gregarious, he doesn't hold back information. It just takes him a little time to order his words. "I think it's about people's intent," he says. "Or my relationship toward them." It sounds like witchcraft. If Malik hadn't seen it in action, he knows he would discount it as childish fantasy - if not outright delusion. "So how do you tell who is who?" he asks. "Friends are blue," Altaïr answers immediately, "enemies are red, and important people are gold." "Important people?" Malik echoes. While the other two seem straightforward enough, that one sounds like even Altaïr isn't sure what it means. "If I'm looking for someone," Altaïr explains, "or - Al Mualim is gold, too." With how often their teacher is looking for Altaïr, Malik is almost tempted to suggest it's some sort of referred association. He doesn't ask what color he is. Maybe it's superstition, maybe it's fear he'll be disappointed by the answer. He doesn't let himself think about it now. "What's it like?" he asks instead. This time, Altaïr falls silent for a long while. He finishes cleaning the dagger and resheathes it, starts folding the cleaning rag into a tight little bundle. "Lonely," he says finally. "Disorienting." Malik frowns. The answer was the last he expected, and he isn't sure how to reply. Altaïr never seems lonely - or even that he necessarily notices being alone - and he never wavered as they ran through the citadel this afternoon. Malik brushes the thought away, unsettled, and stretches out his leg to kick lightly at Altair's. "Well, you're not alone," he says. "I'm here with you." Altaïr smiles, one of those small, private ones that only comes rarely and only when no one else is looking. He ducks his head, and his hands have finally stilled. "I know."

3. He finds him alone on a parapet. The wind pulls his robes out past the edge of the wall, wraps them tight around his skinny frame till he almost seems frail. For a fleeting moment, Malik’s heart lurches at the thought of the wind taking him, whisking him away like a dry leaf into nothingness. The thought of him falling doesn’t even cross his mind. It is inconceivable, even on such a precarious ledge. “There you are,” he says, putting on a pretense of annoyance to cover his brief, irrational worry. It also helps cover a much more deeply-seeded concern, that fear that’s been nagging at the back of Malik’s mind for the last three days, ever since news spread of Ahmad Soffias’ death. He hadn’t seen it, but he had been witness to the aftermath. To Altaïr hunched over the edge of their mattress, staring unseeing at his hands as if watching blood drip from them. To the silence, deeper and shock-rooted, that’s overtaken their room. To the nightmares that have started, suddenly, to wake Altaïr shaking from his sleep. Now, when Altaïr turns to Malik, his eyes glow. Startled, Malik pauses midstride and stares back. Altaïr never turns his Sight on Malik, not since that very first night. But there’s no mistaking that uncanny gleam; the gold that fills Altaïr’s irises can’t be caused by even the most honeyed of sun- or lamplight. “Altaïr?” he asks. His voice comes out smaller than he’s used to, unsure.  Betrayal, irrational, stings at the back of his throat. Altaïr has always trusted him – he thought. But there’s no need for that Sight where trust lies. With a shuddering exhale, Altaïr blinks away the unearthly glow in his eyes and turns back to the front. He seems diminished somehow, as if his shoulders have bowed in that blink and his whole presence withered. For the first time, Malik pictures him slipping off this ledge and falling to death on the hard ground far below. “Altaïr?” he asks again, coming a step closer. “I am tired,” Altaïr says. It isn’t any kind of answer. Malik comes to a stop beside him, leaning against the low part in the wall next to Altaïr’s perch. He tilts his head, watching him. Other than his words, Altaïr gives no sign of acknowledgment. He stares out into the distance, past the far-off mountain peaks. In his eyes is an aching fatigue, a weariness born of deep-rooted sorrow. “I – I am just so tired.” His voice wavers, and Malik feels a flash of shock at the thought that Altaïr might cry. No tears come, though; Altaïr only bites down hard enough to make the muscles in the back of his jaw bulge. Finally, Malik reaches out a tentative hand and holds it palm up. “Then come,” he says. “Let us go rest. I’ll read to you.” It’s a bribe, and a familiar one. Altaïr is plenty capable of reading, of course, but over the years, he’s developed a habit of laying sprawled out on their bed and listening to Malik instead. Threat of death would be required for him to admit it, but Malik likes it. He likes the way Altaïr’s attention rests so fully and easily on him, and the way he may seem to doze but always perks up to ask a question right when Malik’s thinking of stopping. It feels intimate in a way he has never felt before, as if this is some secret partnership nurtured between only the two of them. Now, Altaïr gives a wane smile and takes Malik’s hand. He walks close enough to let Malik throw his arm around his shoulders, bumping into his side with the swaying of his gait. They’re halfway to their room when Altaïr leans his head against Malik’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Malik,” he says. “I trust you.” The non sequitur should throw him, but instead Malik feels a small, warm burl of pleasure and relief.

4. It’s hard to remember that they used to be friends, now. They stopped sharing a room years ago, and Malik can hardly remember Altaïr’s face without the shadow of his cowl, much less easy with relaxation on their shared bed. Irritation roils up in his chest at his words, his walk, his silences. The moment Altaïr enters his sight, red boils over in his veins. And now, here they are on a mission together — with Kadar. Kadar, who still follows Malik but looks to Altaïr doe-eyed and amazed. Who practices things he’s seen Altaïr do as often as he practices the skills his actual teachers demonstrate. Malik doesn’t question their Mentor, but he thinks this trial might be unfairly weighed against him. If he doesn’t shove Altaïr from his horse and leave him here in the dust of the caves, he will surely deserve the rank of Master Assassin, if not Dai or a personal commendation from Al Mualim. He’s pictured three dozen ways of unseating Altaïr by the time they enter the caves, and then there’s the old man and red bubbles over and floods his vision. “Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent,” he hisses. “The very first tenet!” “Everything is permitted,” Altaïr rejoins, wiping the blade across the thigh of his tabard. “Now there are no witnesses.” Malik stares at him, teeth grinding in fury. Behind him, pebbles clatter against the stone floor as Kadar shifts. The torchlight catches the gold of Altaïr’s eyes under his hood, turn them animal and glittering. For the first time, Malik wants to hurt Altaïr. He wants to punch him straight in the face, feel the sick crunch of bone under his knuckles. He stands there with his jaw clenched so tight his teeth might crack, and he wants Altaïr to hurt. “I’m going to scout ahead,” he grits out. “Stay here and try not to dishonor us further.” As he stalks down the hall, he can hear Kadar’s voice lift in a clear tone of admiration. His hackles rise further, but he forces himself to keep walking, to focus on the mission itself. Part of him wants to turn around and order Kadar to help him tie Altaïr up and leave him here. Between the two of them, they could surely do it. But he’s honestly not sure Kadar would do it. He’s not sure who holds greater sway over his brother now. Dragging his thoughts away, he forces himself again to focus on the task at hand. Distractions cost lives on missions, and while he wants to see Altaïr knocked down a peg, he doesn’t want him to die. If nothing else, Kadar would never forgive him if he let the idiot get himself killed. He finds a perch to survey the chamber below and crouches, tucking himself into the niche made by the rocky protrusion. Eyeing the Templars below, he half wishes he had Altaïr’s Sight around now: it’s clear enough to see the members of that cursed fraternity, but who among them are just laborers brought in to find this treasure? He lets his gaze wander the whole cavern, relaxing so that in his focus he doesn’t become tunnel-visioned. It’s as he’s doing this that he catches motion in the corner of his left eye and turns to see Altaïr stop short, far from where Malik had left him. Idiot, he thinks as he stares. This time, when he catches sight of gold beneath Altaïr’s hood, it’s not from the torchlight. Some measure of relief and surprise eases through Malik. He’s actually using his skills for good purpose. It would be prideful to assume Malik had gotten through to him but perhaps — Altaïr tenses, straightening slightly, and Malik follows his gaze. Hope, if he ever had any, rushes out of him like wind from sails. Robert de Sable. Of course. Before Malik can do anything more than stand up, start to move toward Altaïr, Altaïr is already dropping down from his perch and walking out into the midst of the Templars. Behind him, Kadar lingers on the outcropping, hesitant. Malik scours the room. There are too many for Altaïr, no matter how skilled or swift he is, to take on his own, and without surprise or stealth on their side, hopes of success are ruined. The smartest course of action would be to flee, to grab Kadar and run. But Malik is not so wise as he likes to pretend, and if Altaïr was doused in a cask of pride, Malik still got a barrel. He runs forward.

5. Even after most a year in Jerusalem, he’s never seen fog this thick. It blankets the whole city, turns it ethereal and unknowable. Familiar buildings are turned to looming shadows and the trees look like cloaked travelers pausing in their journey. He cannot see anyone and yet he feels eyes watching him from every side. He can’t remember the last time he trusted Altaïr at his back, and even now, he’d run him through with the sword in his hand if he let himself. It’s his fault they’re in this mess to begin with, of course. He can’t be trusted to follow the Creed even on a novice’s mission. “There are five soldiers coming,” Altaïr says. Malik twists around to meet his eyes, question already scalding his lips, but it dies without being uttered. Altaïr’s gaze is focused far afield, but Malik recognizes that distance. They gleam in the haze, unearthly. So there are five soldiers. They’ve taken more. “If you return to the bureau, I can distract them,” Altaïr says. “Draw them away and lose them.” It’s not phrased like an order but a suggestion, gentled somehow. Malik’s frown deepens into a crease between his brows. How unlike Altaïr to offer a plan that minimizes bloodshed. How strange for him to suggest rather than command. He turns to meet Malik’s gaze, eyes still eerie and too-sharp. After a beat, Malik nods and sheathes his sword. “Remember the creed, Altaïr,” he warns. “If you lead them back to the bureau, I will not open the gate.” Altaïr offers no objection, only nods and turns back toward the hidden soldiers. He cocks his head to one side before setting off, a light leap into the unseen. The fog swallows him, clouds wrapping around his body like welcoming arms, and he is gone. Malik’s journey back to the bureau is less direct, winding along streets and rooftops alike. He’s offered some protection by the fog, but he’s still hesitant to make too much noise or draw attention. Unlike Altaïr, he has no way of piercing the mist to spot his enemies before they see him. He makes it back undisturbed and finds himself at a loss of what to do once he’s inside. Shedding his damp djellaba, he drapes it over a chair to dry and then waits. His robe has dried and he’s stoked the fire by the time he hears the grate slide against the stone. Altaïr’s boots hit the tile with a soft thud, a sigh of fabric and flesh landing, and Malik pauses a beat before crossing the threshold into the atrium. He still crouches in the center of the courtyard, bracketed by the grey light falling through the grate, but he’s lifted both hands to press his thumbs to the ridge of his brow. Frowning, Malik crosses the room —and then stops short as Altaïr lifts his head. His eyes still glow. Gold fire rings them, blots out his pupils like a cat along a street at night. Pausing in his stride, Malik wonders what Altaïr sees. For the last months, all Malik has seen with Altaïr has been red. Roiling, viscous rage sharpens his words and points his hate. He can’t count the times he’s thought about killing him, about letting loose all that anger and finally ending this. A dagger would be too impersonal. He wants something more visceral, wants to reach in and rip out his throat, his heart, break his ribs one by one. He wants Altaïr to know what it’s like to lose everything. Unbidden, a memory comes to him. Their old room as novices, the quiet work of tending their first weapons. A slow admission, two words. He crosses the room and rests his hand tentatively on Altaïr’s shoulder. Swallowing, he feels the scarlet calm to blue. “You are in the bureau in Jerusalem,” he says. “You are not alone.” Altaïr meets his gaze, blinks, and at last, his sight clears.

+1 The night is still and warm, suspended in the room like smoke. Lantern light flickers against the walls, languid and golden, and it casts patterns against the walls and ceiling. Altaïr is draped over his legs, tracing patterns over his low belly with his fingertips. Neither of them are quite tired yet, still caught in that sated half-doze where neither wants to go to sleep just yet. It feels almost like when they were novices, back when they huddled together on the shared mattress for warmth instead. The grandmaster chambers make their old room feel like a broom closet, and they never would have dreamt of doing any of this back then. Still, some sense memory of that time echoes back in the comfortable silence they share. "What color am I?" He asks on impulse, on a half-thought whim. Altaïr looks up and cants his head, but there's no hesitance in his answer. "Blue." Malik can't quite explain the disappointment that follows. He hadn't had any expectations, and it's not as if Altaïr's sight grants everyone special auras. Still, perhaps some childish part of him had hoped he would be special in this. They have been intertwined since childhood, two trees wrapped around each other and branching out only to return and seek the sun together. In some small way, perhaps, he had wanted confirmation. "My ally," Altaïr continues, still idly tracing whorls into Malik's skin. "My partner. You have always been blue." It's the last part that catches him off-guard. Always. "Even—?" Altaïr hums his assent. His gaze has dropped to follow his finger up along Malik's chest. "It gave me hope when I did not deserve it," he admits. "And most needed it." He adds the last with a small smile, familiar and private. Looking up, he lets that smile linger and drops his hand to splay comfortably over Malik’s belly. A tangle of emotions leaves Malik wordless. Reaching down, he catches Altaïr’s hand and draws it to his lips instead, pressing a kiss to the scarred knuckles. When he resettles, it is with their hands still together, and Altaïr laces their fingers as they lie there. His gaze is soft and amber, no hint of his Sight as it rests on Malik’s face. “I was afraid to look the first time I came to Jerusalem,” he says, low and gentle. “To see that I had turned you against me irreparably. After that, I would check every now and then — as assurance.” He says the last with a small smile, rueful, deprecating.  A pang jolts through Malik’s heart, and he tightens his hand around Altaïr’s. He had hated him so much at the time, had wanted nothing more than to rend him to shreds. Altaïr had deserved some of it, he knows, and he knows this isn’t asking for an apology or promise now. It’s an offering, a quiet admission of the loneliness Malik had long guessed at. “I am with you,” Malik promises now, anyway. “Even when you are being a novice.” As much as he affects exasperation in his tone, he knows it’s only a mask. Altaïr’s smile draws up into something broader, warmer, than crinkles by his eyes. It’s the kind of smile only Malik sees, a gift he holds close. Ducking his head, Altaïr presses a kiss to Malik’s hand and looks up. The smile remains. “I know.”

[notyetneedcoffee]

No Secrets, Part 6

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (???)

Warnings: None in this section

You studied Steve’s smiling face on the screen. Even though the faint dimple on his left cheek showed, his eyes held... something... that held back his normal vibrant joy. Perhaps fatigue, you thought, noticing the rare hint of darkened skin and redness. Hair damp and wearing a tight gray tee, Steve looked to be freshly showered. You wanted to see him in person, not over a video feed.

"So,” You smiled. “How’d things go?”

“Fine. No issues.” He sighed, eyes going soft. “I miss you.”

“Miss you, too.” You chewed on your lower lip. “I suppose you heard about my spectacularly bad decision.”

He nodded, growing serious. “Lot of paperwork.”

“I'm sure.”

“Lot of worry, too.” He scolded.

“I know. I’m sorry.” You looked down to the tea in your hands. Sighing, you asked. “Any chance you may come visit me?”

A teasing grin pulled at his full lips. “Feeling lonely, Honey?”  

“Lonely. Stir crazy. Bored.” You rolled your eyes before smiling. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

“Good things, I hope.”

You wondered how much you could tease him. “Oh, good. Very good. So good some of it’s bad.”

He sighed your name, blushing slightly. “Don’t tease.”

“Who’s teasing?” You giggled.  

Steve grinned, but that ghost of something returned and the smile faded. “You said that because you could tell what I was thinking, that you would be completely honest. Regardless of how long this effect lasts, you and I will be honest with each other. No matter what. Even when it’s hard.”

“Yeah, Steve, I meant it.” You sighed, wishing you could reach through the screen and touch him. “What’s wrong?”

He stared off camera for a long while, out his window, like he was weighing his words. When he spoke, he did not look back at the screen. “If you never realized what I was thinking when I was around you, if this thing never happened, would you have become Buck’s gal if he’d asked?”

And there it is... you thought. They’d talked.

“Hypothetically?” You sighed. Steve still wasn’t looking at the computer. “If Bucky approached me... if he asked me out... if I felt like our friendship could grow into a romantic relationship... and if you were stupid enough not to say anything before any of that happened... then, yeah, probably.”

Steve frowned. “Would you have preferred...”

“Steve. Stop it.” You ordered. “Don’t circle around the hypothetical questions. I DO know how you feel. I’m happy I know, no matter how it came about. So, if you have a real question, please ask. Otherwise, let go of all the ‘could have’ and ‘would have’ and ‘what if’ worries. Please.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped. A frown creased his brow. “Sorry.” He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “I’m tired, not thinking straight.”

“I wish I was there.” You wanted to crawl onto his lap and hold him. He nodded again. “Are you home for a while?” Steve shook his head, suddenly looking tired. Disappointment flooded over you. “What?”

“I was going to call you when we first got in, but I ended up in, ah, conversation. Then I got pulled into a briefing. Sam, Bucky, and I are wheels up in just another hour.”  

“So, no visit?” You didn’t mean to whine, but did.

“Sorry, no visit, Honey.” Steve didn’t look happy about it either. “I’d much rather be there with you.” A sly smile spread. “Now that I’ve held you, kissed you... it’s all I can think about.”

“It’s a pretty good thought.” You smiled, kind of happy the conversation had gone full circle.  

“That it is.” He laughed, and it lit his eyes.

“When do you come home? I want to see you.”

“Hopefully within a week.” Steve leaned a little forward. “I’ve got to get ready to go. Be safe, and please don’t go wondering into town.”

A harsh buzz pulled you from a dead sleep. Sitting straight up, you grabbed your phone on instinct. Natasha was calling you at 3:16 am. She hadn’t called since you left the compound. You croaked. “Yeah, yeah, I’m up.”

“The boys got hit hard. Took Thor and code green to get them out. Quinjet is forty minutes out.” Her voice was quiet, calm and clipped.  

“Their status?” You swallowed.

“Wilson is going to need surgery. Barnes and Cap both took multiple shots. We got the blood loss under control, so they’ll heal up.”

Closing your eyes, you pulled your knees up to your chest. “I appreciate the situation report.”

“Not calling to give you a sit-rep.” He voice quieted. “You should get your ass to the med lab.”

“Thought you and Tony didn’t want me in your head.”  

“Not planning on being there,” She huffed a little. “And Tony can do whatever the hell he wants. Everyone else on the team was part of the rescue. You should at least have the chance to be there when we bring them in.”

“Thanks, Nat.” You jumped off the bed. “Forty minutes?”

“Thirty-seven.” She cut the connection.  

The early hour meant the drive back to the compound went by uneventfully. The minimal staff at the compound made moving through the halls easier, too.  The doctor and three nurses met you at the med wing entrance.

‘Better not disrupt my med bay.’ The doctor extended a hand. “We were told you’d be here. Take up a place over there. The trauma team is bringing them up now. Stay out of the way until one of us say you can come up.”

The trauma team came through the doors in a rush with Sam on the gurney. A blood-soaked dressing was tied just above his hip and two IVs hung from poles on the gurney.  They went by in a blur and straight into the operating suite.  

Two more medics pushed in a gurney with Steve on it. Dirt and blood covered his body. His suit appeared shredded, bloody wounds showing beneath. His head lolled to the side, eyes barely open. He saw you and his mouth opened as if to speak. They pushed him through a set of double doors before he could.  

‘Oh, Honey, thank God you’re here. You’re here. Love you.’

They pushed Bucky pass you. His unconscious form a shock. Someone had torn his body armor off and cut away the cloth from his right thigh. One of the medics held a large dressing against it. ‘Got get his volume up. He’s lost too much blood. Had to have hit the femoral.’  

‘No. No, drugs!’ Steve’s thoughts came through clear as a shout. ‘Got to get up! Where’s Buck! Where’s Sam!’

You pushed into Steve’s room. One nurse was stitching up a wound under his collar bone, the other stood aside with a syringe. “If he doesn’t want the pain killer, then don’t give it to him.” You snapped. “Unless you’re going to help patch him up, then why don’t you go get a status on the others. That will calm him down faster than anything.”

‘Whatever.’ She left the room.  

You rushed forward and kissed his chapped lips. He sighed. ‘Love.’

“Where are you hurt?" You whispered, resting your forehead against his temple. 

“Through and though of the upper chest, left bicep, a graze on the left shoulder.” The nurse listed off, without rushing. “Broken tib-fib, but they set it on the jet so it’ll mend without intervention.” She sighed. “Cap, you need food and lots of water. Let me set you up with a bag of IV ringers at least. No reason to feel like garbage while you’re heeling up.”

He nodded. She pulled out the kit. “When I’m done, I’ll check on Sam. They were taking him to surgery.”

“Thanks.” He muttered. Squeezing your fingers, he watched her slip the needle in. ‘Ugh. Hate that.’

You smiled to yourself. He could take a 9mm bullet but grumbled at needles. The nurse moved with quick efficient certainty and left. You kissed him again. He hummed. ‘Love you. Love you so much.’

“I love you, too.” You whispered against his lips.

‘Yes, thank God.’ Steve gave you a weary smile that faded as soon as the door opened and the first nurse entered.

“Sergeant Barnes is unconscious, although they’ve stopped all the bleeding and have scanned for any internal issues.”

Steve groaned, trying to sit up. You put your hand on his shoulder. “Steve, stay put.”

“No.” Steve growled out. ‘Not letting him wake up without knowing someone there.’

“You can’t walk on that leg. Not yet.” The nurse bit out.

“Then bring a chair.” You helped him swing his legs over. “Now!”  

The other nurse who seemed to know Steve came in with the chair. Either she heard or just understood his stubbornness. “Wilson will be in surgery for at least another couple hours, but he’ll be fine. Doc just wants to make sure he has a full recovery.”

“Thanks, Kim.” Steve pivoted on one foot and dropped into the chair. ‘Thank god. Now get the hell out of the way.’

You wheeled Steve into the adjacent room. Bucky lay on the bed, stripped down. Still covered in dirt and blood, but great swipes of antiseptic circled the multiple wounds. The jagged wound across his thigh looked ugly and vicious. “What caused that?”

“Flying piece of metal. It was an old mill. I think it was from an industrial saw.” Steve said through clenched teeth. ‘Should have known better. Dammit. We should not have gone in.’

“Don’t, Steve.” You squeezed his hand. “He’ll be okay.”

One of the male nurses came in to check the readings and change Bucky’s IV bag. He and Steve exchanged pleasantries. Something startled Bucky awake. His hand came up striking the nurse across the room. He jumped up, only to have his leg collapse under him. Equipment crashed to the ground as you rushed toward him.

“Bucky!” Steve shouted, standing but not moving.

Buck’s eyes were huge, unfocused. You knelt before him, eye to eye. “Bucky! Buck, you’re safe. Sweetie. You’re safe.”

‘No! Get out! No! Fuck! Doll? Thank god.’ Bucky’s hands grabbed you roughly, pulling you forward, pulling onto his lap despite his wounds. His arms wrapped around you, face burying in your throat. ‘Breathe. Breathe.’

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” You ran your hands through his tangled hair. “You’re home. You’re okay.”

Bucky rocked you, forcing himself to breathe, otherwise calm.

‘Never seen anyone else do that. Never seen anyone else pull him from the edge so fast.’

You looked over your shoulder at Steve, tears in your eyes from the release of terror flowing off Bucky. Fingers rubbed along his scalp as you made quiet shushing noises. Bucky took a deep breath and coughed. He still breathed you in like you were the source of all oxygen. “Doll, dammit. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”  

“No,” You sniffed. “But you may owe Jimmy an apology.”  

“Stevie?”

“Right here.” Steve spoke, voice think. “Sam’s in surgery.”

Bucky’s head came up. The two men stared at each other over your shoulder.  

‘Know you love her, pal. Please, please, don’t make me give this up. She feels safe.’

‘You love her so much. I see it. It’s okay. It’s not the same. I get it.’

You pressed you tear wet cheek against Bucky’s hair. “Let’s get you up, Buck. I’m not doing your wounds any good leaning on them like this. You need fluids, baby, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

He nodded. It was awkward and you strained to help him onto the bed again, but he didn’t argue. The nurse from Steve’s room, Kim, was back. You stayed by his side until she started the IV. She covered him with a blanket. “Lie here until you get two of those bags in you, then I’ll make sure you get moved back to your quarters to recoup. Okay, Bucky?”

“Yeah, I’ll be a good boy.” Buck tried to smile weakly.  

“Same goes for you, Cap.” She turned to where he sat.  

He gave her a smile. “Sound good.” Then Steve’s eyes locked on yours. ‘Want to go home with you.’  

You gave him a small nod even though your hand still ran through Bucky’s hair.  

A/N: Just one part left!

TAGS:

@asiaaisa77 / @babygurl8840 / @badassbaker / @bangtan-serendipity / @beautifullungs / @buchanansebba / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @dsakita / @geeksareunique / @imma-new-soul / @jennmurawski13 / @jesseswartzwelder / @kiki5283 / @lbouvet / @michelehansel / @sebbuckylove / @morganhoran1671 / @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines / @notyourtypicalrose / @nova3312 / @patzammit​ / @rainbowkisses31 / @readermia / @rynabarnesrogers / @sammghgecko / @scarlettsoldier / @sebbysstangirl / @sexyvixen7 / @sllooney / @thegetawaywriter / @theneuropsychwriter / @the-omni-princess / @the-reading-octopus / @thorfanficwriter / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @vanillabunn21 / @vxidnik / @what-is-your-plan-today / @wildmoonflower / @wwe-fanfiction-queen / @sassy89sworld / @bitchwhytho / @carinacassiopeiae / @jessyballet / @killcomet / @steve-rogers-is-a-saint / @phoenixwench  

[imalifegen89]

A Legacy Left Behind - Chapter - 7 - When the Past Unfurls - Part I

Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, Hawaii Five-0 (2010)

Relationship: Steve McGarrett/John Sheppard

Characters: Steve McGarrett, John Sheppard, Danny "Danno" Williams, Evan Lorne, Bates (Stargate), Laura Cadman, Alicia Vega, Kono Kalakaua, Adam Noshimuri, PO Higgins (OC), Samantha "Sam" Carter, Jack O'Neill, John McGarrett, Dr. Lam, Catherine Rollins, Wo Fat, Original Goa'uld Character(s), Original Characters

Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Action & Romance, Military, Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Violence, Character Bashing, Not Catherine Rollins Friendly, No DADT, Swearing

Summary :

"Sure John, I'll call," He promised as the SUV came to a stop in front of them. He and Danny both got in and seated themselves. He then gave a short wave to John who was still standing there by the exit watching them leave. Steve hoped what John had told him would be true, that his dad would be able to make it through. He was not ready to lose his only remaining parent. ‘God please, not again! Not so soon ...' His mind was repeating the mantra as Steve let out a weary sigh and closed his eyes."

Steve will find out about what happened to his father, who was involved in it, why it happened and so much more than he ever bargained for...

Hello All, Here's the next part of the series, and it's a two-parter. There are some plot twists on the way and hope you all will enjoy it.

Aethir - Thank you so much for your hard work and for finding some time to help me with editing, commenting, and giving out very helpful tips and suggestions. Idea bouncing and snark is always so much fun with you!!!

Part 1 - Honolulu General

Honolulu General Hospital

Hawaii

The six-hour-long flight in the old and noisy Globemaster had left both SEALs travel-weary and sleep-deprived. Neither had talked much during the flight, trying to catch a few hours of shut-eye, but among the jarring engine noise, the comms chatter, the endless shuddering, and the training maneuvers, that had been impossible. At the end of the flight, they had thanked the crew and disembarked with relief, each carrying their single duffel.

They were both on leave and therefore in civilian clothes, and instead of the usual armory they carried around, they only had their handguns and with extra clips in their bags. Although they were only making a visit to the hospital, neither of them was willing to go completely unarmed.

A short taxi ride brought them to the hospital from Hickam closer to the midday visiting hours. They figured if needed, they could wait in the hospital until they could see John McGarrett.

……….

"Hello, My name’s Steve McGarrett, I got a call last night about my father. Somebody named Curtis called me," said Steve, presenting his credentials to the male nurse manning the reception area of the Outdoor-Patient-Department. The nurse - L. Rider, according to his name tag - gave Steve and his ID a once over and started accessing his system.

"Yes, Mr. McGarrett, your father's been moved from the ICU. He’s in room 308. You can take that elevator to the left," he informed.

“Thanks.”

Steve and Danny both took off towards the given directions.

The room Steve's father was in wasn't hard to find. It was located on the third floor and the room had the number and the name 'John McGarrett' on a plaque clearly displayed. It also had 'Dr. Leonard T. Lester - Cardiologist' listed as his primary care physician.

"I'm going to go look around and find some coffee. Do you need anything?" Danny asked. He was going to give his friend some time with his dad before going in.

"Yeah sure, I could use some coffee.”

……….

During the six long hours he’d had to think about what happened, Steve’s mind had been busy contemplating some horrible scenarios. He hadn’t realized that he had been subconsciously bracing himself for the worst. Nobody in his family had any history of heart attacks and he didn't know what to expect, what to do or how to prepare. Being the trained planner that he was, Steve found the lack of knowledge rather unsettling.

What the nurse at the reception told him, gave him hope though. He theorized that since his dad's already been moved from the ICU to a regular room, his condition shouldn't be that bad.

Steve took a moment to compose himself, watching Danny as he walked away. Then he took a deep breath and knocked on the door before entering room 308.

……….

He stood still by the door to take the scene in.

His dad was lying on the bed and a white and blue hospital gown was peeking out from underneath the white blanket. There was a monitor attached to his chest and Steve could see the leads disappear through the opening of his gown. The apparatus was quiet and its screen indicated a steady rhythm while John McGarrett slept. Steve noticed there was an IV connected to his dad's left hand as well. He scrunched up his nose when the strong odor of antiseptics hit him in the face, contrasting starkly with the smell of gun oil and Old Spice aftershave he usually associated with his dad.

McGarrett senior was sleeping peacefully and didn't seem to be in any pain. Steve was content to let his dad be, preferring to let him wake up on his own. As he stepped further into the room, he saw a chair by the bed and lowered himself to it slowly, mindful not to make a sound. Then he placed his duffel bag on the floor and settled in to wait.

Maybe it was his instincts of being an active duty police officer - John McGarrett surfaced from his slumber knowing that there was somebody in the room with him, within a few minutes of Steve’s entrance. The slight change in the rhythm of the heart monitor alerted Steve to the fact. Not wanting to startle him, Steve leaned forward and addressed his father softly.

"Hey dad," he reached to touch his hand, the one without the IV needle.

"Steve!" His dad's eyes went wide, realizing his son was sitting by the bed. "What are you doing here?" John knew Steve was deployed and he was the last person he expected to see in the hospital this early. He hadn’t even been in here for 24 hours.

"The hospital called me and told me you had a heart attack," Steve explained. He was relieved to see that his dad was speaking clearly and wasn't showing any signs of disorientation or pain. In fact, he looked quite normal. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright," John smiled at the raised eyebrow he received from his son at that. So he elaborated. "Just a little tightness in my chest area. But the doctor says it's normal after an attack. Other than that, I really am feeling fine. To be honest, I didn't even know what it was. I only knew I had a heart attack when Dr. Lester told me this morning," He was more curious as to how his son got here so quickly. "Where were you when they called you?"

"Colorado Springs." Steve smiled. He couldn't really get into details about his deployment or his whereabouts other than that, but he was glad that he was in the States to make this trip.

"Hah, and you’re here already. That was quick,"

"Yeah, I got lucky and caught a transport.”

Steve was more than happy to just sit there and exchange pleasantries all day long. But he needed to know what happened first. He got up to go and fetch a glass of water for his father from the bedside table. "Dad, what happened?"

His dad took it and drank some water before handing it back to Steve. Then he turned on his bed to fully settle on his back. Steve put the glass away and leaned towards his dad, giving him his full, undivided attention.

"It was the weirdest thing, kid," said the senior McGarrett, frowning as he cast his mind back to the chain of events that led to his sudden health failure. “I was in that small grocery shop by the filling station near home. I had just finished filling up the tank on the truck and was getting some stuff for the weekend. I remember walking towards the counter to pay and that’s it - for the life of me, I can't remember having any pain or calling for help or anything. I was standing there one moment and was waking up on this bed the next.” He paused to take a deep breath and then exhale slowly. “Then there’s this fellow - Dr. Lester - is telling me how lucky I was to come back from a severe myocardial infarction with no visible damage to my heart,” he made a face, remembering his earlier conversation with the overly cheerful doctor who described the incident in vivid medical detail.

“How’d you get here?”

“He said that the shop owner called for emergency services and sent me here. Apparently, I coded on the way, but they managed to get my heart started again without much fuss. And now, here I am.” John finished recounting the incident.

Steve rubbed a hand across his face, trying to take it all in.

“I wouldn’t obviously know what to expect, it’s not like I’ve had a heart attack before - but I'd have thought that at least you get some kind of a warning sign, you know? Like breathing difficulties, chest pain or something,” McGarrett senior continued after a moment. “Not this going about your normal day-to-day business, and then a complete blackout, followed by waking up in a damn hospital bed - it just doesn't feel normal,” his frown deepened.

Steve didn’t say anything for a long while. He just took his time to sit there and watch his dad who seemed to be doing pretty much okay after going through such an experience. He was immensely relieved and was happy to take his time to enjoy the feeling, letting go of the worry and stress that had built up since the moment he’d received the call.

A knock on the door interrupted the comfortable silence in the room and Danny Williams entered carrying two styrofoam cups of coffee.

“Ah there you are, Cap, how are you feeling?” He asked, handing over a coffee to Steve and coming closer to stand near the bed railing.

“I’m feeling alright, considering,” John smiled crookedly. “Where’s my coffee, Williams?”

“Hey, I don't think coffee is on the approved list for you,” Danny grinned. He was glad to see the man looked healthy enough for someone who had just had a serious health scare, fit to be up and making demands. “Besides, this hospital swill is so bad it might just give you a different problem or three,” he sipped his coffee and grimaced theatrically to prove the point. “So when are they letting you out?”

“Don't know yet, my doctor is supposed to drop by any time now. I don't think I need to stay here any longer at all.” John stated confidently. He was not accustomed to sitting around on a bed all day, especially when he wasn’t feeling different from any other day.

“Let’s let the doctor decide that, yeah dad? As you said, this is the first time something like this has happened to you and they just might need to keep you under observation for a bit - just saying,” Steve cautioned.

He knew his dad and he could see the stubborn man was already planning on going home, to start acting as if nothing happened. He might even insist on going to work unless the doctor gave him strict orders to rest and take it easy for a while.

“Which reminds me, do they know at the station that you are here?” Steve asked his dad before he could start protesting about staying put in the hospital. “I tried calling Kelly before I left, but it went to voicemail,”

“No, I’m on leave - only due back the day after tomorrow,” his dad replied somewhat petulantly.

The room door opened again, this time granting entry to a short, balding Hawaiian native. The name tag embroidered over the chest area of his white coat identified him as Dr. L.T. Lester. He smiled cheerfully at all of them and went to the nearest monitor connected to McGarrett senior.

“So how are you feeling today, John?” the doctor inquired while studying the monitor.

“I’m fine doc, when do I get to go home?” John got straight to the point.

The doctor continued taking readings and making notes with an amused smile on his face. Then he went to unclip the chart hanging on the bed railing and made a few notes on it. After that, instead of answering his reluctant patient, the doctor turned to Steve and Danny to introduce himself. At the end of exchanging pleasantries, he finally turned to address John.

“Well, Mr. McGarrett, I can see you’re doing quite well and your readings are good. But, as I explained to you earlier, what you went through is quite serious and you might have damage to your heart muscle.”

Then sensing the alarm from the visitors of his patient, the doctor hurried to explain. “It’s what happens during a heart attack. The blood flow into the heart gets interrupted and it goes into a sort of overdrive trying to restore the flow. This overactivity can cause damage. Your dad was quite lucky that people near him reacted quickly and sent him to the hospital on time.” The doctor smiled again.

“So, what’s next, doc?” Steve asked.

“We do need to assess the possibility of damage and the cause of the infraction. The most common reason is usually coronary artery disease, which means cholesterol clogging the arteries. There are some instances this could happen if you were experiencing a seizure with severe spasms and contractions. We’ll need to run some tests to determine the cause and then plan steps for the recovery,”

“And how long will all this take?” The McGarrett senior looked crestfallen, resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to get out soon.

“I actually have you scheduled for some of the tests now. Some blood work, an EKG, and a scan. An attendant should be here shortly to take you for those,” Then the doctor turned to Steve and Danny. “The tests will take about an hour or so. If you need to step out and have a meal or something, now would be the time.”

An elderly female attendant entered the room quietly, pushing a wheelchair as the doctor finished, and started unhooking Steve's dad from his various monitors. Steve took the doctor's advice and took his leave with Danny, after letting his dad know that they’ll be back once the tests were done.

……….

“Well, I’ve gotta admit man, your dad’s right. That does sound weird.” Danny said after listening to Steve about what happened.

“Why?” Steve frowned.

“My uncle Mario had a heart attack a couple of years ago. The man was moving some heavy boxes around. He’d been sweating buckets and breathing through his mouth for about an hour when my aunt found him and made him take a break. Then he felt pain in his chest and aunt Rea took him to a doctor. The doctor took one look at him and sent him to an ER. He’s been suffering from a heart attack for hours by then,” Danny paused and tried to remember the exact details his mother told him about what happened to his uncle. “He is fine now. He had to have a bypass and has to stay away from all the greasy food and the alcohol, but he made it,” he said inspecting the sandwich he took from the vending machine. They were both seated in the hospital cafeteria with bottles of water and sandwiches.

It was crowded and almost all the tables were full with families huddling together having lunch - most probably waiting for news about their loved ones. It wasn’t that noisy, despite being crowded to capacity - and nowhere near cozy or inviting - as one would expect from a busy dining area. It felt as though the sense of expectation, the sense of happiness, and the overpowering sense of grief had all tangled up together to create a very subdued atmosphere. Even the smell of food mixed with the underlying odors of disinfectant contributed to the gloom that pervaded over the souls lost in their own private worlds.

“Wow, I’ve forgotten how crappy the hospital food is. This doesn't look like a roast beef sandwich man,” Danny sniffed at it. “Sure doesn’t smell like it either.” Then he shrugged and started eating. It didn’t taste much better either, but he was hungry after the long flight.

Steve didn’t say anything as he nibbled on his food. He wasn’t really hungry but knew he had to have something to keep his energy up. He was thinking about his dad’s recounting of the incident. He hadn’t said anything to his dad earlier, but the more he thought about it, the less it made sense. What Danny was telling him also made it clear how unusual the whole thing was. He made up his mind to pop into the shop his dad was in, later when they left the hospital. Maybe he could talk to the shopkeeper and even have a look at their security footage if they had any. He might even find something that could explain his dad suddenly suffering a heart attack. Maybe there was something that his dad had forgotten to mention.

He needed to get in touch with Sheppard as well, to let him know his dad’s condition. He knew that John would worry until he heard from him. Taking the last bite of his sandwich, he decided now would be the best time to make that call.

“Listen, I need to call Shep and let him know dad’s alright. I’m just gonna be over there by that balcony,” he told Danny as he stood up, fishing his phone out of his jacket pocket. Then he walked to the area he pointed, dialing Sheppard. “Be right back.”

………..

The sweet and subtle smell of her perfume reached Danny first, as he realized the lady who was wearing it was standing right in front of him. He looked up and saw the familiar, smiling face of Lieutenant Catherine Rollins looking down at him.

“Well, hello!” He grinned. “Fancy running into you here, of all places,” he gestured at the seat Steve had just vacated. “Take a seat,”

“Thanks,” Rollins smiled charmingly as she sat. “I’m just here visiting a friend of mine. She just had her second baby - a cute little baby boy,” her face took on the same expression all women wore when talking about babies. “I popped in here to get a drink and then I saw you,” she said. “I thought you guys were in Colorado? Is everything ok?” Her expression turned into one tinged with concern.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m here with Steve, actually. We got a call about his dad, but he’s alright. We just saw him,” Danny explained without going into much detail. He noticed the Lieutenant perking up at the mention of McGarrett junior.

“He’s over there, on a call.” he pointed with his head.

Steve was leaning over the balcony with his elbows resting on the railing and busy talking to Sheppard. He didn’t see the new arrival as he had his back to them.

Danny saw the wattage of Cathrine’s smile go up as her eyes ran over the view the oblivious SEAL presented. He hid the grin and blinked at her innocently when she turned back to face him.

“So, will you guys be here for a few days then?” She inquired, her gaze snapping back to where Steve was, almost unintentionally.

Danny knew she was mostly interested in finding out whether Steve was going to be around for a while.

“Well, that depends.” He hedged. “We have to see his dad’s doctor and see how it goes,”

He didn’t want to give any definite answers or any other details without Steve’s say so. He opened his bottle and drank some water, wishing Steve would soon return. So that he could decide what to tell this infatuated Lieutenant who was back to staring at Steve’s ass with a dreamy look on her face. Then something started to nag at Danny about what she said earlier, but he couldn’t place it. He pushed it away to sort out later as he saw Steve finishing his call.

……….

“Yeah, so that’s what happened. He seems alright and man, that’s a relief. Depending on what his tests and scans show, it’ll be a day or two more. But I’ll message you when I find out,” Steve said to John, who was quite relieved at the fact that Steve’s dad was fine. He insisted that Steve take as much time as needed to make sure his dad got all the support he needed. He also made Steve promise to message him with updates and implored him to take care of himself before finally ending the call.

Steve put his phone back inside his jacket with a smile. He very much appreciated the time he was given to take care of his dad. Moreover, he was deeply touched by the way Sheppard sounded over the phone. He had been really worried and the relief that poured over from his lover through the call was almost a tangible thing. Steve made a mental note to send regular updates as promised. It wasn’t something he would have done for anyone else, but he knew Sheppard would stress otherwise. It felt nice to know that he had somebody who cared that much about him.

He felt the good feeling wilt away when he turned back to see the penetrating gaze of Catherine Rollins directed at him. He was pretty sure he caught her in the act of staring at his ass. She smiled brilliantly at him and waved. Steve was somewhat reluctant to wave back and tried his best to summon a smile for her. He was sure it looked more like a grimace instead.

Steve didn’t have anything against beautiful women. He was definitely not opposed to being the subject of desire of one, either. He had gone out with many pretty women and Catherine Rollins, with her long black hair, soulful brown eyes, and radiant smile was exactly his type. But he was very much invested in another hazel-eyed brunet and he didn’t see himself veering off anytime soon - if ever at all. Even if he wasn’t, Steve knew that he still wouldn’t be interested in this particular woman. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something off about Lieutenant Rollins - something that rubbed him the wrong way - that made him want to be on his guard whenever she was nearby.

“Hi, Steve,” Rollins greeted cheerfully as he walked towards them.

Again, he was instantly put off by the overly friendly greeting. They had only known each other for about 48 hours, hadn’t they? He had to make a conscious effort to return the greeting without letting his true feelings show.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” He asked, more or less politely. “What brings you here?”

Danny cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, picking up on Steve’s discomfort instantly.

Rollins either didn’t notice or didn’t let it bother her because she launched into the story of her friend and her cute little babies with great enthusiasm.

Steve kept the smile plastered on his face as she talked. Then he made a show of checking time and gestured to Danny. “Hey, listen, it’s nice bumping into you here. But Danny and I’ve gotta run. My dad should be done with his tests now,” he said to the woman as Danny got up from the chair to go with him. Steve didn’t want to give her any details about their visit here and hoped Danny hadn’t run his mouth either.

With that somewhat curt parting, he turned and walked out of the cafeteria, with Danny following closely behind.

“So, it isn’t just me, hah? She gives off weird vibes to you too?” Danny asked, turning his walk into a half jog to keep up with Steve’s longer strides. Steve was eager to put as much distance as possible between them and Rollins.

“Yeah, you didn’t tell her why we’re here, did you?” Steve asked while stabbing the buttons on the elevator.

“Nah, not really. Just told her that we’re here for your dad. That’s it.”

“Is she following us?” Steve was staring at the shiny surface of the elevator door.

The reflections on it were slightly distorted. But Danny could discern the shapely figure of Rollins in tight-fitting jeans and green sleeveless top, slowly making her way towards them.

“Forget this,” Steve spat, pressing a few more buttons for various floors on the keypad. Then he swiftly walked away to the nearest staircase and started climbing two steps at a time. He knew his behavior was a bit irrational; she was just a colleague after all, not another enemy combatant gaining on him. Nevertheless, he wanted to get away from her as soon as possible.

When they finally reached Steve’s dad’s room, the man was already there, enjoying his lunch. It didn’t look much better than what they had either. John McGarrett insisted that there was no need for them to hang around since he was just going to take his pills and take a long nap anyway. He could see the boys were tired and wanted them to go home and catch a few hours of sleep for themselves. Steve relented and promised his dad that they’d drop by later around dinner time. He made him promise to call them if he needed anything before that and then finally hugged him fiercely, before taking their leave.

[wallofweird]

hi fae, how do you feel about people saying that kevin only tolerates madison bc of kate and therefore they won't work? :/

Hi! Well, I think these people are definitely not watching This Is Us (or any type of television, for that matter) or living on Earth. Or seeing and unseeing things according to their pre-established opinions. Either way, that’s absolutely not true. On most of their interactions Kevin is polite, as you can see it here:

I love this part because there are at least three other guests closer to him but she is the first person he offers a glass of champagne... If you pay attention to the scene, he is holding THREE glasses. He gives one to Madison and he puts another on a shelf, I don’t know about the third, but there were definitely more women in the room that could’ve had that(those) glass(es), he just didn’t care, lol. Also, Rebecca is looking and smiling at him, but he doesn’t even notice it because he is too busy looking at Madi... I mean, another direction.

CREDIT: https://thisiskevison.tumblr.com (all the gifs above)

Kevin doesn’t look very happy with the idea of dancing and still he doesn’t protest.

CREDIT: https://madsdefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/616600065662926848/kevin-x-madison-height-difference

This gif doesn’t show it, but he turns his head and watches Madison as she walks away just like on gif number 4.

Siding with her during a conversation with Kate.

CREDIT: https://thisiskevison.tumblr.com (all the gifs above)

Comforting Madison.

CREDIT: https://madsdefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/618991372262916096/kevin-looking-at-madison-nothing-but-blue-skies

He isn’t smiling here, but does this seem to be a person that is annoyed with the other? He has soft, delicate, gentle eyes while looking at her.

And this whole thing about Kevin despising Madison and only tolerating her because of Kate is even more ridiculous because on this scene he is basically begging her to invite him to come inside.

CREDIT: https://madsdefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/616600065662926848/kevin-x-madison-height-difference

If he thought her company was so unpleasant, why would he accept it in the first place? He could’ve left and gone to Rebecca’s house instead, or come back after Toby got back from work, he could’ve called Randall, or Nicky, or simply gone somewhere else to make new friends because it’s not like struggles when he socializes with strangers.

And here is what Madison had to say about her night with him:

CREDIT: https://thisiskevison.tumblr.com/post/617836054621339648/do-you-want-to-know-why-i-think-i-slept-with

He made her feel comfortable enough to be her true self and he ended up spending at least a few hours with Madison. He spent the night at her place and only left the next morning... If her presence were so repellent, why didn’t he leave after the sex? Madison didn’t point a gun at him and forced him to stay. Even after he woke up, he kept lying next to her on the bed without a shirt on... Plus, there was the option of leaving without saying anything while she was asleep, but he didn’t do that.

Actually, the only time I believe Kevin was rude to her was at the hospital, but you have to analyze the context: his sister went into early labor, there was an endless list of possible complications to the baby and herself, it took hours until Kevin got some information, Kevin had been drinking, he was dealing with his failed attempt to connect with his uncle, the frustration of having relapsed after an entire year of being sober, feeling guilty for lying to everyone about it and the fear of losing Zoe because of those lies. He was going through A LOT. Those were probably some of the hardest hours of his life. Yet, at first he treated her just fine, it was the fact she wouldn’t stop talking (because that’s the way she was coping with the situation and usually what he does too when he’s sober, btw) that he said those things to her. Now, I don’t drink, but as far as I know people on hangover usually have headaches so it’s not weird that they will avoid noises and I remember Kevin saying a few minutes before that he was on hangover.

I also remember that he immediately regretted it and apologized to Madison, but she didn’t listen and left (I don’t blame her). And when she walked away he was hit by a dose of consciousness and realized his was being “an ass” and apologized to his family. She wasn’t the only one, he was snapping at everybody, because it wasn’t Madison, Randall or anyone else that was annoying him. It wasn’t personal. It was the stress of the entire situation that was making Kevin take it out on everybody. Plus, even though he didn’t specifically snap at Zoe, when he went outside to get some air and clear his head, she offered him company and Kevin shut her out.

CREDIT: https://thisiskevison.tumblr.com/post/618572824853069824/im-sorry-what-exactly-are-you-doing-here

By the way, Kevin bumped into Madison when he was getting out of the elevator and attempted to apologize for a second time.

Another scene people use as an ‘example’ of rudeness is this moment on the season finale, but I sincerely disagree. Here’s why:

Kevin was in the middle of a heated fight with his brother and that was almost getting physical when Madison arrived for the party.

And when she showed up at the door he just told her the truth: it wasn’t a good time.

Now, does that look like an angry, utterly annoyed and disdainful face for you? Because the way I see it, it’s just a guy who’s weary and not in his best state of mind, which is comprehensible since he was in a middle of an argument, his mother’s health is deteriorating, Randall had talked her into doing a clinical trial in the other side of the country despite her previous refusal and that’s just SOME of the heavy stuff he was dealing with at that specific moment.

However, Madison doesn’t bother and enters the place anyway.

And Kevin doesn’t yell at her, protest or leaves, he just lets her in and closes the door.

Again: does this look like he hates Madison so much like some people make it seem?

THIS is being annoyed and/or angry:

CREDIT: https://rostovarps.tumblr.com/post/165520445651/kevin-pearson-in-this-is-us-01x07-the-best

CREDIT: https://adyadintheforce.tumblr.com/post/177326964546/shame-on-all-of-us

And this is just being upset, tired, feeling like all your energy has been drained out of your body:

If you watch the scene, his face on the picture above and on this gif has identical expressions:

CREDIT: https://ltbelanna.tumblr.com/post/189147462109/this-is-us-4x08-sorry-im-sorry-me-too-see

And really, how did these people expect him to react? Did they expect him to smile, kiss her and propose a second round of hookup? His reaction made perfect sense to everything that was happening at the time.

Do they believe things would’ve been different if it had been someone else at the door, like Kate’s neighbor Gregory or somebody from her support group? Do they think that if it had been another person he would’ve hugged them, offer coffee and crack jokes? That the problem was Madison and not the situation he was in with Randall and Rebecca? 

Anywaaaay, by the end of their conversation he had already softened up and was even slightly smiling at her. 

CREDIT: https://millennial-mess.tumblr.com/post/613565105725194240/im-so-sick-of-chasing-ghosts-im-tired-of

CREDIT: https://madsdefencesquad.tumblr.com/post/620438418688704513/you-da-best

Sure, it wan’t a wide smile because it wasn’t like his problems had disappeared all of a sudden, but he had found a silver lining in the midst of everything.

And being exhausted, upset, annoyed, stressed or angry is part of the human experience and part of being in a relationship of ANY KIND: romantic, platonic, familial. Taking it out on someone can happen sometimes as well. It’s not always sunshine and rainbows. People are not perfect. People are not robots. They navigate through negative feelings and emotions too. It’s how things are in real life and also how things are on television, specially on This Is Us, which is a show that focuses on relationships and emotions.

Jack and Rebecca, Beth and Randall, Kate and Toby, Randall and Kevin, Kevin and Kate, Nicky and Kevin, Kevin and Sophie, William and Randall, Kevin and Cassidy all had moments like this... The list goes on. Would the same people define these relationships/friendships as unsuccessful and fake because of a few unfriendly moments? I doubt it, because what really defines a relationship as healthy and successful is the people’s ability to recognize their own mistakes, forgive each other, work on themselves as individuals and as friends/a couple/a family and getting even closer and stronger after facing the hardships. It’s not smiling, talking, hugging and kissing 24/7 because nobody does that. Maybe for a few days and weeks, but you won’t last even a month behaving like this, let alone YEARS.

And the complications are also what keep the story interesting and engaging. I don’t mean something like toxicity and abuse, but if couples, relatives and friends don’t disagree, argue and face problems out and within their relationship, the show doesn’t go anywhere. There must be conflict. There must be drama. And there must be happiness. It’s about balancing these aspects out.

If they want to watch something that’s always sunshine and rainbows and where the characters are always happy, they should watch a TV show targeted to three-year-old children, because honestly This Is Us has never been and will never be this kind of show. 

And we know Kevin has a pregnant fiancee on season 5 and since This Is Us is not a soap opera, I seriously doubt Kevin will go out there impregnating multiple women with multiple children and multiple sets of twins. I reckon it’s safe to say it’s Madison. That means they will go through one of the most amazing and yet vulnerable and challenging experiences two people can ever face and instead of pulling them apart, it will only bring them closer to the point they will get engaged. For me, this sounds like a relationship that is DEFINITELY WORKING.

[theunknowncryptid]

Part Five - The Hogwarts Champion

Next

Masterlist

Yoongi x y/n

After a horrible prank, Slytherin, Min Yoongi, is entered into the Triwizard Tournament. Y/n, feeling responsible, decides it’s her personal mission to make sure he survives the ordeal

~        ~        ~

Yoongi turned off his phone in annoyance and pushed it away across the table. It was nearly half past nine and the library would be closing soon. A quick glance around told him that he was the only one remaining. Everyone else had filtered out to either catch up with their friends after summer vacation or study in their common rooms. Becoming more annoyed that he had wasted his precious studying time texting, Yoongi began to stack up the several books that he had spread across the table. The pile reached higher than his head once he had grabbed them all. Carefully, he maneuvered around the table and began to place the books back in their rightful spots on the shelves. Yoongi grumbled quietly to himself as he recalled his conversation from minutes before. 

Who does Y/n y/l/n think she is? 

He placed a book down harder than necessary, with a thud. Yoongi wasn’t about to share his life with some stranger. Especially an overly energetic, goofy stranger. He ripped away his hand just in time as he put down the Monster Book of Monsters and it snapped at him viciously. Yoongi moved further through the aisles of books, remembering this afternoon's potions lesson.

“Min Yoongi and Y/n y/l/n” Snape called out. Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his mind drawing a blank. Y/n? He thought. He looked around at the classroom, studying the faces of the Slytherins and Gryffindors. No one was moving and for a second Yoongi had the euphoric thought that he would be partnerless this term. He could happily work on his own and not be forced to make pointless small talk with a partner. His hopes were dashed quickly with the sound of a wooden stool scraping against the stone flooring. Yoongi turned and looked over his shoulder to find the source of the noise. A Gryffindor girl was gathering her books and shoving a cell phone into her pocket. She seemed slightly caught off guard at being called on and large eyes darted across her items to make sure she had everything before joining Yoongi.

“Sometime today, Miss y/l/n” Snape drawled out like a hiss. Y/n pulled her lips into soft line as her cheeks flushed pink. She hurried forward and took her place next to Yoongi. With her close proximity, Yoongi could now hear the phone in her robe pocket buzzing rapidly. Snape continued on with the partner assignments and the eyes that had been on Yoongi and Y/n found other interests. As she re-opened her books, Yoongi took the opportunity to look at the girl. Something about her bothered him. Her hair was pulled into a loose bun and pieces were falling out shielding parts of her face from Yoongi’s view. The parts that Yoongi could see were nothing extraordinary. Pale skin, pink lips, with natural makeup. She smelled faintly of vanilla and… Men’s cologne? 

Yoongi was still staring at Y/n when she looked up at him. He jolted and his attention was back on the lesson in a matter of seconds. Irritation and embarrassment flooded his system when she spoke.

“Hi” Yoongi only nodded slightly at her greeting.

He chose to ignore her for the rest of the lesson and since it was the first day and they didn’t have any partner work it was fairly easy. After an hour, the bell rang and Yoongi had forgotten the staring incident. He packed up his books and threw his bag over his shoulder, thankful that the end of the day had arrived. 

“Hey, Yoongi!” Yoongi turned back to his work table that he had been walking away from. Y/n stood there smiling. “Do you want to exchange phone numbers? You know- for class.” She asked. 

“Uh.. Sure.” He mumbled. Yoongi fumbled in his pockets for a scrap piece of parchment. He scratched his number onto the paper and passed it to Y/n.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/n chirped brightly. She exited the potions classroom with Yoongi staring dumbfounded after her.

Yoongi placed his last book on the shelf and turned back to collect his things from the library table. Remembering his encounter with the Gryffindor annoyed him again. Something about her set him off. Yoongi didn’t know if it was the constantly texting friends, the way she spoke, the half-smile that made her look like she was always daydreaming, or something else entirely. 

When she had texted him asking to meet up to work on the first assignment, Yoongi decided that it was inevitable and that sometimes life is working with people you don’t enjoy. But, then she dug further and started asking him personal questions. Yoongi can barely tolerate people he likes asking about him. So, to make the point clear, Yoongi snapped.

He pulled his remaining books into his bag and placed it over his shoulders. He gave a polite nod to a smiling Madam Pince as he exited the library into the abandoned hallway. Yoongi spent so much time in the library over the years and Madam Pince had become fond of him, offering book recommendations and the occasional homework help.

As he made his way down to the Slytherin common room, Yoongi gave a deep sigh and loosened his necktie. He started to become lost in thought again as he walked the familiar steps. Feelings of guilt started to prick in his brain. Jin had asked him specifically not to be rude to Y/n and that’s exactly what he had done. Apparently, the girl was some kind of fucking Mother Teresa and the Gryffindors were very protective of their princess. Yoongi supposed that he should feel guilty for upsetting Y/n, but he didn’t. He felt guilty for disappointing Jin. 

Yoongi was just 8 years old when he moved in with Jin and his family. His grandmother, who had cared for Yoongi up to that point, had died after a heart attack. They had lived together in the wizarding village of Appleby. It was just the two of them, but their household was busy and joyful because of the family next door. The Kim’s. Yoongi and Kim Seokjin became best friends at a young age and it was if their families melded to accommodate the boys. They would play in Min’s living room and then run across the property to swing on the Kim’s swing set. Jin’s parents and Yoongi’s grandmother would also come and go into each others houses as they pleased, sharing stories and playing cards on the porch. It was as close to perfect as life can be. But, when Yoongi’s grandmother died, no other family was willing to claim guardianship of Yoongi. So, Yoongi moved in with the Kim’s and they became his legal guardians. At first, Yoongi thought that this was the best case scenario and, hopefully, not much would have to change. As he got older, he learned differently. He knew the Kim’s loved him like another son, but he was a financial burden that was difficult to support. They didn’t have the money to move, so he and Jin had to share a room and Yoongi had to watch another family move into the home he had shared with his grandmother. 

Yoongi didn’t know what would have happened to him had he not moved in with the Kim’s, but he did know that he would have been without a family and alone. Yoongi owes everything he has to Jin and his family. 

That’s why disappointing Jin in anyway made Yoongi feel guilty beyond belief.

Once they got to Hogwarts, Yoongi was placed in Slytherin and Jin in Gryffindor. They still remained best friends (if not brothers), but Yoongi found it difficult to make his own friends. He tried, but always found himself putting up walls and creating a distance between any new friendships. Relationships came easy to Jin, though, and Yoongi managed to make his only other friend, Hoseok, through Jin. He counted himself lucky to have the friends that he did, but still, a lot of the time he felt lonely. As if he was disconnected from the world around him.

Being separated from everyone except Jin and Hoseok made Yoongi weary and suspicious of strangers reaching out to him. 

That’s probably why I’m such a dick

His thoughts traveled to Y/n again as he reached the Slytherin portrait and muttered the password. He didn’t bother to try and socialize in the common room and headed straight for the stairs that led to the boys dormitory. Yoongi knew he would have to apologize to Jin for his behavior toward Y/n and ran a hand over his face as he thought about what to say to both Gryffindors.

I’ll figure it out in the morning.

~ ~ ~

The silence in the Great Hall broke with the sound of muffled curses and light footsteps. The ceiling of the dark hall showed a cloudy night sky. The four tables belonging to the individual houses guided the way to the only source of light in the room. A large goblet filled with white-blue flames. The disruption to the stillness came in the form of two sixth year students moving as silently as they could into the hall. Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung. The pair were whispering to each other in harsh tones. 

“I’m just saying, if you were taking potions she wouldn’t be stuck with that dick.” Taehyung whispered. Now that they were in the Great Hall completely, the boys walked side-by-side towards the glowing goblet in front of the head table.

“I’m not switching back! I had to badger McGonagall all summer so I could join Dark Arts Studies.” Jungkook whispered back. Dark Arts Studies was a new, controversial class added to the Hogwarts curriculum a few years back. It was only available to select students joining the Auror and Medic career fields. Because of the low amount of students in the class, it combined Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin students. Taking the class made it impossible for Jungkook to attend Gryffindor potions with the rest of his year, so he attended with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. “Plus, the way things are now, we get to be potions partners!”

“I know.” Taehyung conceded. “I’m just worried about her being around that guy.” The pair reached the goblet and stood together for a moment, staring up at blue flames. Taehyung looked over at Jungkook in the firelight. His face was lit up with light blue and his jaw was set in locked determination. The flames that flicked out towards the pair reflected in the younger boys eyes. Watching it was hypnotizing.

“Taehyung?” Taehyung flinched back and realized that Jungkook was speaking to him. “I asked if you had the parchment?”

“Oh, yeah,” He said, pulling a slip of paper out of his sweatshirt pocket. A name could be clearly seen written on the parchment.

Min Yoongi

“Last chance to back out” Jungkook offered quietly, meeting Taehyung’s eyes. Taehyung shook his head. 

“No. It’s what he deserves.” Taehyung smiled slightly, as if it was all a big joke. “What’s the worst that could happen really?” Jungkook smirked and shrugged his shoulders. Taehyung held the slip of paper out to the younger boy and Jungkook placed the tip of his wand on the paper.

“Deligantur” Jungkook whispered. The paper seemed to shimmer and give a slight wave before settling just as it was before.

“Are you sure this will work?” Taehyung asked, turning to look at the large goblet in front of them.

“It should.” Jungkook assured. “Ready?” Taehyung nodded and, without hesitation, reached forward and dropped the slip of paper into the goblet. The fire burst upward, forcing Taehyung to take a step back. The flames changed from blue to blood red. Then, after a few seconds, the fire returned to its normal state of white-blue, low flames.

“Congratulations, Min Yoongi.” Muttered Jungkook. “You are the Hogwarts Champion.”