#thought it'd be rude not to share

[pensat-i-fet]

[guardiandamned]

suddenly i am thinking about transfem mizael??????? why am i suddenly so attached to this concept?????

[colachampagne3]

sometimes I think of a friend who said that being read online is not easy but that somehow you find a way to be noticed, and once, while saying this she gave me a look and added: sure, if you go the extra mile to hide, no one will ever find you

[allfearstofallto]

Sleeping Like the Dead

Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader

Forced marriage AU

Word Count: 2.3k

Synopsis: Diluc craves your body like a drug, but the only time he can get you, is when you're fast asleep

TW: NSFW, Somnophila, Non-Con, Masturbation (.male), Oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of breeding/finishing inside

The only thing that could seem to wake you was thunder. A loud crash and the windows shaking, followed by howling wind, and you'd be up shivering in fear. You'd lie back down once you realized what the noise that woke you was, and you were out like a light. Deep in slumber, snoring ever so softly.

Even though you were married on paper, you and Diluc never shared a marital bed. The marriage was never consummated and the most he'd ever seen of your body was your legs and maybe even a sliver of your stomach in the summer. Other than that, you stayed dressed head to toe like a nun.

He knew it was his fault that you were like this. Being forced into marriage with him, you didn't even want to tempt his urges. You were told time and time again that nothing would happen, not while you didn't want it, but he was failing to believe that himself.

It was when he saw you one night, after you'd just gotten out of the bath. Normally, he stayed in his room at nightfall, but now, he was particularly thirsty. Whether it was good luck or the gods actually blessing him for once, he saw you go into your room and close the door behind you.

Did he buy you those nightgowns? If he did, he definitely didn't remember doing so. But the red haired man did buy you whatever you wanted, no questions asked. So maybe you'd managed to slip an order in for them without him noticing. And archons how he wished he'd noticed.

The swell of your breasts, the curve of your ass, plush thighs and skin still steaming from your bath. You didn't notice him standing in front of the door to his room, but he noticed you. A brief glance was all it took, light work for anyone else who'd been married for as long as you two had, but it was the first time he's seen so much of you, and he felt his pants tighten at the sight.

He stormed back into his room while the memory was still fresh, not even bothering to make it to the bed. The door slammed shut behind him, he pressed his back against it and dropped his pants to his ankles.

It felt like electricity all over his body as he stroked his cock, eyes rolling back, tongue out his mouth. Diluc wasn't a prude, he masturbated when he deemed it necessary, which was when he got erections that were particularly stubborn and annoying, but this was the first time in his life that it'd ever felt so good.

It only took a few pumps and suddenly he was moaning into his hands, hips twitching as his cock shot ropes of cum onto his carpeted floor. He panted watching himself make this mess, but his mind shifted onto how you could clean it up. And his length refused to go soft. He fucked his fist for the rest of the night.

Diluc often heard stories of how hard it was to wake you up. That's when he learned how truly a heavy sleeper you were.

“The lady slept through breakfast again today,” a maid would say in a whisper. They thought he couldn't hear them, but as long as they weren't saying anything rude about you, he acted oblivious to it.

“She fell back asleep after I woke her up three times!”

“I called for her for a full five minutes, and she barely stirred,”

Temptation is a hell of a drug. Satisfaction is even more addicting. Maybe that's why he decided to visit your room one night. Hours after you'd left your bath and when he was sure you were asleep, he eased your door open and stepped inside. His heart was racing, afraid that you wouldn't be asleep, but instead sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting to confront him.

But you weren't. You were just like how he'd thought you’d be. Asleep in bed, lying on your stomach with your arms wrapped around a pillow and pulling it into a tight embrace. Your blanket was thrown haphazardly over your body, you obviously kicked a lot in your sleep, making it shuffle around.

Exhaling the quietest deep breath he could muster, he pulled that blanket to the side. Sure enough, like the maids said, you didn't stir, and much to his pleasure, you were wearing another one of those revealing nightgowns. With one leg slightly up, he could get a good glimpse of your round ass and your panties that seemed to be slipping between your moist lips.

He sucked in air through his teeth, taking in every inch of your body. Every curve, every soft piece of skin. He'd mentally promised himself this would be a one time thing. It felt awful invading your privacy like this, but his hormones were getting the better of him.

His cock was released from his pants and he began pumping it furiously. Biting his lip to hold back the moans once again, he watched the way your chest rose and fell as you slept. It only took a little bit and he was cumming, quicker than he ever had in his entire life and more intensely than he'd ever felt.

The rational part of his mind told him to leave no messes, so he made sure to cover the leaking tip of his cock with his hand to not spill his seed everywhere. Still, he couldn't help himself. He dipped a finger in his own cum, then pressed it against your slightly open mouth, wanting you to at least taste him a little.

The sight of you suckling that cum off his finger, lips pursed and wet with drool, the sight had him hard again already, but he decided against tempting fate. He'd finish himself off in his room again. This was a one time thing after all.

Was what he'd told himself, but he found himself in front of your door again, going to your room almost every night. It was like an addiction, standing in your room next to your sleeping form and fucking his cock into his hand while looking at you. And he grew bolder as the nights went on.

Moving your panties to the side to finally get a full view of that wet cunt, rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips to get you to suckle on it like before, he even managed to slip a finger inside your entrance, getting to feel your warm walls for the first time. The way you coated his fingers nearly made him grunt and he thrusted it in and out of you, watching your face contort in your sleep, little moans and mewls dropping from your lips.

Diluc imagined that it was his cock instead of his finger getting to fuck your pussy, that it was his cock making your eyebrows knit together and your fingers twitch. He could only imagine though, his other hand fisting his cock at the same pace as his finger.

He'd even gotten so bold as to start licking your cunt. His tongue poking out of his mouth, he'd tongue at your clit and watch you squirm in your sleep. Your taste was intoxicating, the juices your tight hole would secrete tasted better than what celestia would feel like, and while lapping up your folds between your legs, his dick would twitch and he'd cum inside his pants, completely untouched.

All good things must come to an end. A sad, but truthful statement. And Diluc wanted this to end. He really did. Each day he'd say that this would be the last one, that he wouldn't do this to you again, that it was becoming too risky, but sure enough he was back at your door the next day. He'd spend the whole night finding new ways to pleasure himself with your sleeping body.

All good things come to an end. Maybe he should've been thinking that when he arrived at your door on the night of a harsh thunderstorm. If his mind wasn't clouded by lust, if all his blood wasn't flowing to his lower regions, then maybe he would've remembered how particularly scared of thunderstorms you were. If his face wasn't buried between your legs again, then maybe he would've remembered the maids saying the only time you woke up easily, is when there was a storm and heavy wind outside. If he wasn't pumping his cock while licking at your pussy, going practically drunk from your taste, maybe he would've noticed that you'd begun to stir more than usual, more than out of a sleepy, unintentional pleasure.

The last thing Diluc was expecting was to look up and meet your gaze. With his lips still suctioned around your clit, your face was a mixture of disgust and mostly fear. Eyes wide and filled with tears, you opened your mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to yell at him, he didn't know. He was on top of you before you could let out a peep, one of his hands covering your mouth. After a bit of a struggle, he managed to use the other hand to hold both your wrists above your head.

“I'm- I'm sorry!” He gasped as you thrashed beneath him, but you were no match for his strength and all you were doing was wearing yourself out, “I-i swear! I don't know what came over me!”

But something has been coming over him for weeks, months even. If you knew how long he'd been doing this, you'd look at him in even more horror. Your eyes. So big and filled with tears, it only made his heart thump against his chest harder, but what else was he to do?

He laid on top of you, hand covering your mouth for what felt like hours, dick still twitching and conveniently between your folds. This was the worst time for him to be hard, not while you were awake. Not while you were scared of him to the point of crying, but he couldn't help it. It was you. You did this to him.

“I'm so so sorry,” he muttered as he angled his hips, the tip of his cock finally at your entrance. He didn't think your eyes could open any wider, but sure enough, they did when he forced every inch of himself inside you, bottoming out without stopping while pleading for your forgiveness. Your yelp, the noise you made as you were made to take him, was muffled by his palm, body squirming even more as you tried to get away.

He always said his first time with you would be gentle. It would be loving as passionate. He would take things slow and kiss every inch of you, to make sure you were ready for him. But the way you felt around him, the way you clenched around his length, it felt like his hips had a mind of their own as they started a rough, brutal pace. Slapping against yours so hard, even the headboard of the bed had begun to hit the wall.

“Fuck! Ahh! Fuck fuck! I'm so sorry! Hnng- please…ah! Please! I'm sorry,” he whined, but he didn't slow down for a second. You were so warm inside. So wet. This was made for him, he was sure of it, “Please, you- you hah- have to forgive me.”

You could thrash and squirm and cry as much as you wanted to, but Diluc had had his taste and he wouldn't be satisfied with any less anymore. He kept fucking into you, pounding you so hard, rutting his hips into you like an animal in heat.

You saw the way his eyelids flutter, you felt the way his hips stuttered, his pace grew sloppy, his grip loosened, drool fell from his lips, his moans grew breathier. You saw it all and you knew what was about to happen.

“Fuck,” he gasped between thrusts, eyes rolled back. He forced his dick as he could inside you, balls deep and held it there, feeling the way your silken walls contracted around it, “I'm gonna cum.”

There was no way to tell him no with his hand over your lips, so you were made to watch and feel in horror as he grew even more aggressive with his fucking. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, just pleasure, just lust and the primal urge to finish.

“Inside. Hah- aanh. Cumming inside, fuck!” He affirmed your fears through his filthy moans. His dick twitching inside you made your heart sink. You could feel it. The way his cum was spitting out of his length and hitting your walls. It felt neverending, like he'd stored so much waiting for this moment, some of it even spilling back out of your entrance and onto his balls.

Reality must've hit him after he came, because he was off of you in an instant. His length softened and his face filled with dread. Cum leaked onto your bedsheets, but despite the fact that he was no longer muffling you with his hands, you couldn't scream. You couldn't even think for a second as you realized what happened.

He looked just as scared as you did, but why? What gave him the right? Why did he deserve to be scared when he was the one who did it?

“I fucking hate you,” you spoke through strangled sobs and you watched his world crumble.

Those words felt like you were slicing his heart out and stabbing it over and over again. They made him tear up as well. But somehow, the sight of you, disheveled, with his seed leaking from your hole, somehow that made his dick twitch back to life. Even your crying face, while not as appealing as you sleeping peacefully, was gorgeous. Arousing even.

His cock twitched back to life as he looked upon you, half undressed and practically ready for him. He began a slow crawl towards you again, his urges wanting to take over once more. You already hated him. What was the harm in doing more?

[maybcnksgf]

I love love love your writting. can you do an enemies to lovers Sirius Black one shot? idk like make it hella dramatic, like fighting in the rain n then they kiss, or like a truth or dare n they have to kiss or sum. again love u sm have a good day stay healthy

— amortentia ; sirius black x fem!hufflepuff!reader 𐙚

☆

summary: one thing about you is that you could not stand sirius black. one thing about sirius black is that he could not stand you.

warnings: swearing, drinking, james is an arse in this sorry :,(

a/n: hi my lovely, thank you so so much for the compliment & the request! i'm so flattered that u love my writing. i love YOU and i hope this did ur idea justice! <3 i also decided to make the reader a hufflepuff in this cause i thought it'd be a cute lil asset, hope u don't mind!

check out my masterlist & send in any requests <3

One thing about you is that you could not stand Sirius Black.

Everybody seemed to love him. Not just the students, but teachers too; even Professor McGonagall couldn't hide her smirk behind her hand when she often gave him a good scolding.

Really, the only one of the four marauders you could stand was Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew was okay, though he was far too much of a tag-a-long for your liking, and James Potter was practically Sirius' right hand man. Remus was your Potions partner and he was, admittedly, as much of a sweetheart as a marauder could get, often helping you study and walking you back to your common room when he caught you asleep in the library during his prefect rounds (which only happened once... or maybe twice).

"They're not so bad," he promised you one Potions class, watching for your reaction with a sheepish grin as Sirius and James messed with Snape's potion at the back of the room. "They're actually really nice once you, y'know, get to know them."

"Nice?" you questioned him, scoffing out a laugh and grimacing at the sound of Sirius' laughter bellowing through the classroom. "Need I remind you what Sirius did to me in third year?"

"I know, I know! But he's changed, Y/N, honestly! He's more... mature?"

Even Remus couldn't quite believe the words that had just left his mouth as you both watched the boy in question actually spit into Severus' cauldron. "Oh yeah, Rem, so mature."

One thing about Sirius Black is that he could not stand you.

He'd always believed what he did to you in your third year was harmless, something that would be forgotten within a month or two and not to be dwelled on. He knew you harboured a secret little crush on him at the time, so he figured... why not?

He really did mean it when he asked you out, though. Sure, he didn't know you too well; you were really just another Hufflepuff that he shared some classes with. But Remus seemed to like you, so he figured it could at least be a good way to make a new friend if nothing else.

"Hey."

You looked up from your book on Herbology at the rude interruption, and of all the people you were expecting to be standing before you, you were surprised at the sight of Sirius Black. You cleared your throat awkwardly, willing the immediate blush to disappear from your cheeks. "Hi?"

It came out as more of a question than you intended it to, but he grinned at you nonetheless and your face felt warm, was it warm in there?

You did a quick scan of the library in search of any of his smug little friends, but you saw no one. Just him.

He didn't wait for an invitation before pulling out the chair beside you and sitting down, still grinning ear to ear. "You free Saturday?"

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows in surprise, your yellow tie suddenly feeling far too restrictive around your neck as you somehow managed to splutter out a "yes". Sirius pulled a bouquet of flowers out from behind his back (pink and white roses) and offered them to you with the same lopsided grin. "Meet me at the Three Broomsticks? Two o'clock?"

The only problem was... James had gotten into his head.

That same afternoon, Sirius entered his dorm with an air of confidence, not dissimilar to usual, but he had a different sort of spring in his step.

Remus and James were sat on their respective beds. The former looked up at him over his book and raised a single eyebrow, clearly noticing something different about his entrance, though James didn't look up from the Quidditch magazine he was reading and paid no mind.

"Afternoon, boys," he announced, his voice dripping with glee as he crashed down onto his bed.

"Afternoon, Pads," Remus responded, a curious tone to his voice as he kept his eyebrow raised. "What's gotten into you today?"

"Scored a date," he said, far too matter-of-factly for the grin he was still sporting. "With Y/N."

Remus' book fell shut on the ground with a thud, jaw dropped open and lost for words as James finally cocked an eyebrow. "Who's that?"

"Y/N L/N. Y'know, the Hufflepuff girl in our Potions class?"

"And Herbology, and Charms," Remus finally composed himself, now staring at Sirius with a pointed look, well aware of his friend's... reputation. "Look, Pads. I know she likes you, but you have to be careful about this. Y/N is my friend, and I don't want to see you hurt her."

James suddenly barked out a laugh, finally dropping his magazine as he engaged in the conversation. "Be careful? There's nothing to be careful about, Moony. As if Sirius is actually going to go on a date with a Hufflepuff. Don't embarrass yourself like that, Padfoot."

"Don't be such a dick, Prongs," Remus spat, tossing a cushion at his mate and hitting him square in the head. "She's my friend."

Sirius said nothing.

So the next Saturday rolled around and you arrived at the Three Broomsticks at five minutes to two. Though, five minutes to two became two o'clock, which became two thirty, which became three, which soon became four.

And Sirius never showed.

The next day at breakfast, you'd found him, slapped him across the face, threw the bouquet of pink and white roses back at him and left without a word.

Sirius Black did not like to be publicly humiliated. He decided there and then that he wanted nothing else to do with you.

It wasn't until your sixth year rolled around that Remus realised things were changing.

Gryffindor had just won their first match of the season against Slytherin and, as usual, there was a huge party in their common room.

You weren't much of a partier, usually preferring to stay in the comfort of your dorm with a book that you and Remus were bound to discuss within the next few days. Of course, you'd attend the parties when Hufflepuff won, but you were never one to join in with the other houses.

Although he knew this, Remus Lupin had a plan.

He was beginning to grow sick of the constant complaining on both sides of his friends. It was always "Come on, Moony, she's so bloody weird" or "Look at him, Remus, how on earth can you stand to be friends with him?" and, quite frankly, he'd had enough.

He loved the marauders, of course; they were his best friends, his brothers. But he also loved you, and though he knew that Sirius' young and dumb actions in third year hurt you, he really wasn't lying when he said he'd changed.

Yes, Sirius would call you weird or strange or annoying to his friends, but Remus knew he was deflecting. He saw the way something in his eyes changed when he watched you enter Platform 9 3/4 on the first day of your fifth year. He saw the way he'd been secretly pining over you for the last year.

Likewise, he knew the same went for you too. No matter how badly he hurt you, your feelings for Sirius never really left. He saw the way your gaze lingered on his friend for just a little bit too long. He knew the way you shook your head and muttered "what a dick" under your breath every time you looked away was a cover up.

The party in the Gryffindor common room was in full swing by the time Remus convinced you to join him. It had taken a lot of begging and a fair few promises to buy you more books before you agreed, and you found yourself awkwardly at Remus' side as you entered through the portrait hole.

It wasn't long until James had found his friend and immediately tugged him away. Remus tried to fight it but found him impossible, shooting you an apologetic smile before you lost sight of him. You made a mental note to demand another promise of more books when you found him again.

You accepted defeat and made your way over to the drinks table, in need of at least something before you inevitably called it a night early and headed back to the comfort of your own common room.

Smoothing the fabric of your dress down, you suddenly felt very out of place in the yellow and white floral fabric, but an unfortunately familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts before you got too caught up in them.

"L/N?"

You immediately snapped your head up and fought the urge to roll your eyes at the source of the voice. "Black."

Sirius seemed surprised at your presence, his eyebrows raised and an interesting sort of smirk gracing his features as he looked down at you. "And what exactly are you doing here?"

"Remus invited me," you kept your answers short, trying to slow your rapidly beating heart as you reached for the firewhiskey and flashed him a sarcastic smile. "Is that a crime?"

"No." His smirk only grew, seemingly amused at your snap back as he kept his eyes on you. "Not a crime at all, love."

He knew what he was doing. How dare he try and flirt with you now after what he did before.

"Don't call me that," your response came immediately and you felt yourself trying to fight the shiver that was so desperate to creep down your spine. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to enjoy and somebody to stay far away from."

That was an hour ago now, and since then you had already downed way too many cups of firewhiskey for your body to handle. You were so set on trying to avoid Sirius that you tried to make yourself forget he was even there at all.

An hour became two and Sirius ended up finding you back at the drinks table again, barely even holding yourself up as you tried to pour yourself a cup of whatever alcohol was nearest to you. Sirius, though definitely not sober, was painfully so compared to you, and he watched in slight amusement as you managed to get more of the liquid on your dress than in the cup.

"You alright over there?" His voice snapped you out of your pitiful concentration and in turn made you jump, even more of the liquid spilling down you when you did.

"Hello, Sirius," you responded, turning to look at him with a big smile and almost stumbling into his chest, causing him to wrap his arms around you as he caught you.

In your clouded state of mind, you couldn't for the life of you remember that you're supposed to hate this guy, and instead only found memories of the longing gazes when you racked your mind. You'd regret this tomorrow; you most certainly could not handle your drink.

"Hello, Y/N," Sirius raised his eyebrows at your state as he answered you, still amused as he copied your tone of voice. "You look like you've had enough."

You gasped as if he had just suggested you were You-Know-Who himself. "I have not!"

Despite your best efforts, your words came out slurred and Sirius knew Remus would not be happy that you're left out here alone in this state. He cast a quick glance around the common room but couldn't find a single glimpse of his mate in the crowd, and he let out a quiet curse under his breath.

I'm supposed to hate her, he thought to himself, letting his eyes fall back on your smiling face. She embarrassed you Sirius, shoved a bouquet of bloody roses at you in front of the entire Great Hall to see. But why did she have to grow up and be so bloody pretty?

"Let's get you back to your common room, yeah?" He suggested, gently taking the cup from you and placing it back down on the table.

He admittedly felt bad for you. Remus was nowhere to be found and he couldn't just let you get all the way back to the Hufflepuff common room by yourself in this state. You're just being a decent guy, Sirius, he told himself again. You'd do this for anyone.

You either didn't seem to hear him or his words didn't register in your brain, because when he placed a hand on the small of your back to carefully lead you through the crowd and back through the portrait hole, you only spoke with a grin.

"Are we going on a walk?"

"Yeah, love. We're going on a walk." Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at your reaction, but deep down he felt a little tense. With the state you were in, anyone could've taken advantage of you, and he was glad he found you before anyone else did. Maybe it was the little bit of firewhiskey still running through his veins, but Merlin, Black, the fuck is wrong with you tonight?

The walk back to the Hufflepuff common room was slow and quiet, and Sirius ended up wrapping an arm around your shoulders and taking most of your weight against him to stop your constant stumbling.

Once you'd reached the portrait, you muttered the password and allowed Sirius to half-carry you through, still not completely aware of what was going on, and the pair of you only stopped when you reached the bottom of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories.

He'd never been in this part of the castle before, and he couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips when he noticed it smelt like a lovely mixture of flowers and freshly baked cookies.

You turned to face him once you reached the stairs and something suddenly clicked in your drunken mind.

"Sirius? Is that you?!"

He chuckled quietly again and nodded his head, raising his eyebrows with an amusement smile. "Yeah, it's me. You're back in your common room now, yeah?"

You took a moment to process his words through the thick fog clouding your brain and nodded your head, still smiling too before looking down at your dress. Your smile fell into a sad frown. "Oh no, it's ruined! It was so pretty!"

The boy in front of you took notice at the alcohol stains on your dress and shrugged his shoulders. "It's still pretty. I mean, you look pretty. I mean-"

If you did notice him stumbling over his words and the blush that rose to his warm cheeks, you didn't show it (though Sirius doubted very much that you did notice in your state). You simply smiled again, turning away from Sirius without another word as you all but skipped up the stairs.

It wasn't until he neared the portrait hall to leave again that he heard your quiet little drunken giggle. "Sirius Black thinks I'm pretty."

That was months ago now and you and Sirius hadn't even uttered a word to each other about that night.

Actually, if it was possible, you started avoiding each other more.

You were finally starting to admit to yourself that you had feelings for Sirius Black, but that scared you. How could you fall for him again after he stood you up in your third year? He left you there for two hours, your single butterbeer looking pathetic in front of you as Madame Rosmerta shot you sympathetic smiles from behind the counter every now and again.

You hadn't been in there since.

Little did you know, Sirius was avoiding you for exactly the same reason.

Okay, perhaps he was a little embarrassed to admit that he liked you. James was a dick that day three years ago and, although Sirius knew the both of them had matured since then, he couldn't help but worry his best friend just wouldn't approve. He knew deep down that James, especially now older, would just want him to be happy, but he was scared.

Remus had been so angry with him when he stood you up that he was also scared to face him again. Would he even believe him or force him to stay away from you for your own wellbeing?

The rain was pelting down heavily in early February as you trudged into Professor Slughorn's Potions class. The castle at this time of year was sickening, with pink and red paper hearts hovering over your heads in the hallways and fluttering around the tables in the Great Hall as Valentine's Day drew closer.

Even your professors had taken on the Valentine's theme, and you couldn't help but groan as you gathered around Slughorn's desk with the other Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors.

"Amortentia," the professor announced, and a group of Gryffindors standing behind you giggled to themselves. "The most powerful love potion in the world. If brewed correctly, the scent will be different to everyone according to what attracts them."

James Potter scoffed on the other side of the crowd and whispered something in Sirius' ear. The latter laughed loudly, pulling the attention of everyone in the room.

"Mr Black?" Slughorn spoke through the boy's laughter, keeping his calm demeanour. "Perhaps, since you find this so amusing, you'd like to demonstrate for us?"

"Don't mind if I do, sir," Sirius just laughed again and made his way through the group, going to stand by the professor with a cocky smirk. "I bet it's just a load of old bollocks anyway."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out, Mr Black. Tell us what you smell, won't you?"

You watched as Sirius leant over the cauldron and you took a moment to take in his appearance. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned a quarter of the way, his red and gold tie hanging loosely around his neck, and though you willed it not to, your heart couldn't help but flutter slightly.

At that moment, you realised that, if Slughorn was right, Sirius was about to reveal the scent of the one he loved.

"Smells like..." his voice pulled you from your thoughts as he took in the scent of the potion, "vanilla, fresh cookies, and..."

He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly flicked up to meet yours, an unreadable expression on his face as he muttered quietly.

"And, uh, roses."

Whether it was the intensity of Sirius' gaze or the fact that everybody had turn round to look at you that made you storm out of the Potions classroom, you couldn't be sure.

Not even the heaviness of the rain could stop you as you tried to get as far away from the castle as possible. What the fuck just happened?

"Y/N?"

You shook your head, refusing to turn around as you continued walking. "Leave me alone, Sirius."

"Y/N, please-"

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

"Merlin's beard, L/N, would you stop and listen to me for one bloody second!"

He'd caught up to you now, throwing himself in front of you to stop you on your course. You'd almost crashed into his chest, and Sirius suddenly remembered how you'd done the same thing at that party four months ago.

"Sirius, please-" you begged quietly, trying to push past him.

You didn't get very far as he gently grabbed your elbow and brought you back in front of him. "No, Y/N, we're going to talk. For the first time, we're going to bloody talk."

"About what, Black? What could you possibly want to talk to me about? You haven't wanted to talk to me for the last three years, why start now?!"

He couldn't help it as his voice raised slightly, and you watched him grab at his dripping wet hair in frustration. "I just openly admitted my feelings for you in front of the entire fuckin' class and you won't even talk to me!"

"Because it's bullshit, Sirius!"

Sirius stopped at this, his eyebrows furrowing as he shook his head slightly. "What the bloody hell do you mean?"

"This is just another one of your plans to humiliate me, just like you did three years ago. I'm not falling for it this time."

Successfully this time, you pushed past him, shoulders brushing together as you did. He tried to grab your wrist to pull you back but you shook it out of his grip and continued walking away from him again.

"Y/N-"

"No."

"Y/N, come on-"

"I said no, Sirius."

"Y/N, I fucking love you!"

His words halted you in place. Neither of you spoke for a moment, and the only sounds you could hear was the violent pattering of the rain and his heavy breathing.

You shook your head slowly, not even turning around to face him. "You can't. You can't do this shit to me, Sirius."

"Why not? It's true!"

His words dripped with exasperation. He seemed desperate now, his body moving back in front of you again and Godric, were those just raindrops on your face or had you been crying too?

"Sirius, I can't- I can't let myself be hurt by you again," your voice cracked slightly as you refused to look at him, feeling your throat clog pathetically. "I liked you. I really bloody liked you and when you stood me up I was so humiliated."

Something in his face softened at your words, and his voice grew quieter. "Y/N, I didn't know-"

"I haven't been on a single date since, Sirius. I can't let anyone even attempt to get close to me like that because every time they do I think they're just gonna stand me up anyway, because that's what Sirius Black did. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to fall in love with you when-"

But suddenly all words were forgotten as his lips were on yours.

Sirius' hands were now on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. He tasted faintly of cigarettes and some chocolate that was no doubt stolen from Remus, and it took a moment to process what was happening. But you kissed him back.

Godric, did you kiss him back.

It was a few moments later when you pulled away, his forehead finding place against yours. Neither of you spoke for a moment and your eyes took their time to flutter open, only to find him already looking at you.

"You love me, you said it yourself. Give me a chance," his voice came as a whisper, his breath fanning against your mouth as his eyes searched your features desperately.

You nodded your head breathlessly, your hands sliding up around his shoulders as you gave him a pathetically pointed look. "You pull that third year shit ever again and you're dead."

"I swear. Merlin, I swear."

You laughed quietly and Sirius broke out into a wide smile. The silence that took over you both was comfortable, the rain providing a settling background noise despite the cold that chilled your bones

"For the record, I would have smelled you too."

[everythingisromant1c]

It's Always Been You - Chapter 12

james potter x fem!reader

summary - Things hadn't gotten much better with James, and you knew you could only go so long without talking to him—after all, he was still your best friend. But, considering all that'd happened, along with some encouragement from your friends, you knew the time had come to finally admit you wanted more than that.

wc [6.2k]

a/n: alr guys ... very happy and also sad to say this is the last chapter of it's always been you!! :( i've loved every minute of writing this series as well as sharing it (its become my baby atp), and it is definitely because of all the love and support everyone reading has given it. thank u to everyone stuck around to this point, & i hope u guys enjoy this last chapter!! i send all my hugs and kisses <3 - e

all chapters | <- Chapter 11

It'd been another hour or two until everyone had fully returned from Hogsmeade and dinner was being served in the Great Hall. You finally changed out of your dress and into your everyday clothing again, already feeling better, but that didn't mean you felt good. You didn't think you could feel good when both your brain and heart were hurting like they were. And worst of all, the one person you'd go to in times like these for comfort was the same person you couldn't go to. Not now.

The girls had been doing their best to get your mind off of everything that had happened that day, aside from when Marlene profusely apologized to you for letting Potter hear her outburst in the common room.

"Although, I have to say," she admitted afterward. "I'm not completely sorry for him that he had to hear it. I may be brutal but I never tell a lie."

That fact didn't leave you as you sat with her and Lily in the Great Hall for dinner, a number of seats away from the other Marauders. You recognized with a skip in your heartbeat that James was with them, surprisingly enough since you knew how he was accustomed to skipping meals in the dining hall when he wanted to be alone, a habit you both unfortunately shared. But that didn't mean he was enjoying himself either.

You could see even from your seat down the table that he wasn't saying much, mostly keeping to himself quietly, something so out of character for him yet you'd seen him do it constantly the entire week. You wanted to yell at him and shake him silly, but you also wanted to hug him. When you caught yourself in the midst of those thoughts you turned back to your own spot at the table shamefully.

You tried to force yourself to eat, catching your friends' concerned looks at your full plate, but you didn't feel much like it. Especially not when you still felt maybe a dozen pairs of eyes on you from every corner of the Great Hall.

Even with all that'd happened since just that morning, the rumors and whatever else people had come up with to talk about had not yet been forgotten about by the school like your friends said it would be. Then you thought about whether news had spread of your disastrous date in Hogsmeade, and prayed that nobody had caught wind of that incident either. You didn't think you could handle any more of the staring.

Immediately after you had that thought, you spotted a fifth-year in Ravenclaw robes walking past your table, watching as he blatantly pointed at you as he spoke to his friend, and you looked down at your plate with hardened eyes.

You heard Marlene scoff from next to you. "Hey!" she called to the boy. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to point?"

The fifth-year didn't respond to her but looked to his friend, hurriedly taking a seat at his own table, his whispers being drowned out in the loudness of the dining hall.

Marlene fumed from next to you. "I can't believe these people. Are they really that bored with their own lives that they're so obsessed with a bloody rumor?"

You shook your head toying with your fork. "Just ignore them. That's what I've settled on doing."

She sighed from beside you and you thought that'd be the end of everything, until you heard gasps from down the table. You looked up and followed the sounds and were met with a sight not even the magic of Hogwarts could've prepared you for.

James—your James—had stood up on the bench he'd once been sitting in, and you thanked Merlin he wasn't standing fully on the table; though you had absolutely no idea what he could possibly be up to, you knew it couldn't be anything good. He cupped a hand to his mouth as your heartrate picked up.

"Can I have everyone's attention?"

He didn't have to ask twice for it. His voice boomed out loudly, something that seemed to come naturally to him, and the noise in the Great Hall had died out in a mere second until it was almost completely silent—quiet enough for you to hear the beating of your heart in your chest as you looked up at him. Your throat went dry.

"Not that it's any of anyone's business," he started confidently to the hundreds of eyes now looking at him, tone nothing but sober. "But nothing happened in the broom closet. Or in the locker room."

You felt the churning in your stomach claw up into your throat, then felt it drop back down, keeping you stationed in your seat. He didn't give much context to his declaration, but with the popularity of the topic amongst the school, it didn't seem like he needed to. His voice almost seemed to echo, all other noises drowning out as everyone stared up at him. James looked around the entire room appearing completely unafraid and you didn't know how the hell he did it; you probably looked more fearful than him.

"So," he began again, "I don't want to see or hear anyone talking about those rumors any longer. And if anyone has a problem with that, they can answer to me. Alright?"

Of course, nobody said anything then, but you could see in their eyes that they were going to listen to him. Or at least, they'd make sure they didn't get caught going against him. Maybe it was from his impenetrably confident voice or his respected status around the school, you weren't sure, but he had that unique effect on people in an almost effortless way.

When it was clear he'd gotten his point across, he scanned his eyes over the sea of students until they found yours. In a dizzying way, it felt like you were the only two in the room for a moment, as cliché as the thought sounded in your head.

You didn't know what had motivated him to do what he did, but you could see in his eyes something fragile that juxtaposed the self-assured look they'd had only seconds ago. He looked away again and stepped back down to floor level once more, not taking a moment before striding out of the Great Hall, his form disappearing seconds after.

Even without his physical presence, his action seemed to linger over the room for a moment more before chatter broke out once again. You were still frozen in place, not knowing if moving would finalize the idea that whatever just happened was real and not just part of some wild dream.

Marlene had confirmed that it definitely had happened, however, when she turned to you with her jaw dropped, an amazed but delighted sparkle in her eye. "Someone tell me you saw that too."

"Oh we saw it," rang Lily, who also looked much too happy about that fact, probably just relieved James's antics weren't centered on her for once. You could see them both staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to react. You could also see the boys in your peripheral, the three of them remaining at the table searching your face for a reaction.

Yet, all you could do was stand up and walk hurriedly towards the exit. Dozens of conversations rushed past your ears as you did, a blur of remarks ranging from "Potter's lost it" to "He's so bloody fit." Whatever they were saying, you noted with gratefulness in the back of your mind that none of the conversations were about you.

You reached the doorway and stopped once you were a safe distance away in the hallway, heaving breaths in for a moment to yourself before finding that you weren't alone. All of your friends had followed you without blinking an eye, and you didn't know whether you found it endearing or inconvenient. Though, to be fair, you didn't know where you were going. You just knew you couldn't sit there and pretend as if nothing had happened.

You blinked at the three boys who neared you with puzzled looks on each of their faces. "Did you guys know anything about this?"

"No," promised Sirius. "In fact, James has hardly said anything to us since this morning."

You shook your head to yourself, feeling breathless. "I can't ... believe he would do that."

"Really?" Lily stared at you. "I mean, it's Potter we're talking about. It's exactly something he would do."

You couldn't fight the smile that tugged on the corners of your lips even as you shook your head. You ran a hand over your hair as the blonde from next to you hit you in the shoulder.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" You frowned over at her as she stared at you expectantly. "Go to him."

You stilled, gaping at her. "What?"

"Go to him. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

You tipped your head at her like it would help you understand her better, parting your drying lips. "I thought you said he was a selfish git." You heard Remus snort from beside you.

"I did, sure," reasoned Marlene, not without a hint of pride. "But only because I thought he was ruining your chances of moving on now that you were over him. But seriously, I can see your face when you look at him." She shook her head. "That's not the look of someone who wants to move on."

Your eyes flickered over her face as she spoke, an infinite number of thoughts overtaking you. In the silence of your thinking, a Hufflepuff boy walked past the six of you in the hallway, staring all the while.

"What are you looking at?" snapped Marlene, turning to him without missing a beat. "Did you not just hear Potter?"

Like he'd heard him loud and clear, and also like he was scared of Marlene, he hurried away with his head bent forward. Satisfied, the blonde turned back to you. At your conflicted expression, she asked, "Well?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. "It's just that," you began, not even knowing where you were going with your rambling. "I've spent so long trying to get over him. It's not fair to myself to just forget all of that, and it definitely wasn't fair to Sebastian-"

"For Merlin's sake," cut in Lily, to your surprise. "You keep talking about what's fair and what's unfair, but what about you? What do you want?"

You stared at her, beginning to feel breathless under the eyes of all your friends. "It's not just about what I want. It's not that simple."

"But what if it is?" she questioned. "I know how difficult this has all been for you. And I know you said Potter doesn't just get to realize his feelings for you and suddenly be with you, that it doesn't work like that. But what if it does?" She raised her hands at her sides. "Not everything is a perfect story to tell. Especially not when it comes to you two. It's not every day you fall in love with your best friend and he finally sees that he's fallen for you too. Are you seriously going to let him go because of some made-up system of rules?"

Your breath was becoming staggering now, and you didn't know what to think, because everything they were telling you sounded so right.

"I don't know," you began unsurely. "Of course, I don't want to lose him. Not talking to him for the past week has been harder than I ever could've imagined. I don't even know what it would feel like to have to do it for longer than I already have been." You blinked down at your shoes, truly realizing those things at the same rate you said them. "I think I just ... miss him."

"Of course you miss him." Marlene looked at you sympathetically. "That's why I think you should go tell all this to him."

You felt bile rising in your throat. "I don't even know if he'd want to see me after all we've said to each other."

"Are you joking?" Remus butted in exasperatedly. "Prongs is bloody in love with you. Can't you see that?"

"Remus," you warned softly because you didn't know how much more of this hope you could take before you did something you'd regret.

"I'm telling the truth." His voice was heavy with meaning. "Maybe it took him a while to realize it himself, but the rest of us have had to sit back and watch you both act like you don't have feelings for each other for years. Believe me, the only reason he's in his room right now and not with you is because he thinks that's what you want."

Your brows pinched. "You can't truly know that."

"Really?" he laughed. "What do you think we talked about that night Vance asked you out?"

Your expression faltered and you forced yourself to think back to the night James had begun acting distant from you, though it wasn't difficult to, the storyline of it all clicking into place in your head.

"You," breathed Remus. "We talked about you."

"Not to mention," Sirius added, "we're the ones who've had to spend every night in our dorm listening to him bitch and moan about Vance this and Vance that." You swallowed at your friends' words, but they didn't quit.

"And we know James was being a right idiot today," Sirius insisted honestly. "But you should've seen him this morning right after you two argued. He was heartbroken. More than he'd ever been over Evans." He turned to the redhead in question. "No offense, Evans."

Lily rolled her eyes lightheartedly. "Trust me, Black, none taken."

He nodded and turned back to you swiftly. "So for you to think that James would want anything other than to fix things with you and just be with you is bloody mental."

You stared at all of your friends who were looking so determinedly back at you that you didn't think you could tell them 'no' now. But still, your feet didn't budge.

"It's not just that," you almost whispered. "I guess I'm just ... scared. What if it goes wrong and we get into some ridiculous fight again? What then?"

Marlene took a hold of your shoulders, slightly scaring you in her resoluteness. "Potter just stood up and yelled at the entire bloody school and you're trying to tell us you'rescared?" She shook you a little, and your friends smirked from behind her. "Be a Gryffindor for Godric's sake! Go to him!"

Before you could say anything more, she was turning you around and shoving you a little until you had the momentum you needed to take steps toward the Gryffindor common room. You made it all the way up the nearest set of steps before you paused, turning back to your friends with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, you guys." You expected them to share the sweet moment with you, but they only rolled their eyes.

"Go, woman!" Sirius groaned, and you rolled your eyes back at them, but it lacked any real annoyance.

You didn't know exactly what you were planning on doing, but you didn't have time to think about it because your legs were carrying you speedily through the halls in your anxious state and wouldn't let you stop until you reached the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Taking a steadying breath in, you said the password and entered the room.

With everyone else still being at dinner in the Great Hall, it wasn't exactly difficult to find James. He sat in the common room, his brunette head of curls visible to you in the low light. They covered the majority of his face that you could see, his head tipped downwards with his elbows resting on his knees. That changed within the blink of an eye as you entered the room, his head swiftly lifting until he locked eyes with you, and you had to fight a shiver at the feeling it sent shuddering through you.

He seemed to think you were just going to go to your own dorm and ignore him, and he averted his eyes to look somewhere else, maybe the fireplace, until you left—but you didn't. You only walked closer to him until you were separated by only one of the couches, the distance still small enough to make your breathing quicken.

At the soundlessness of your stilled footsteps, James looked back up and met your eyes again, and he swallowed. Clearly, he hadn't expected you to make any move to talk to him that night, even after the scene he'd made in the Great Hall. The problem was that you hadn't expected yourself to either, and now you didn't know what you wanted to say first, because there were certainly a million things you had to make sure he knew.

"Thank you," you said, because you figured it was a good place to start. He nodded up at you, his eyes not revealing much of anything, but you didn't let that sway you. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Of course I did." His voice was stubborn, but too sincere for how little his expression gave away.

You looked down at your feet, letting a moment pass before speaking again. "Well, now it seems like everyone is going to be talking about you from now on."

"That doesn't matter to me." James's voice cut through the air richly, and when you looked back up from the floor he was staring at you meaningfully. "They can say whatever the hell they want. As long as they're not talking about you."

Your shoulders dropped at his words, and the way he held your eyes as he said them made your heart beat faster in your chest. It hadn't even been a full day since you'd last spoken to him, but you already missed him.

"They wouldn't leave you alone," he said concretely, his tone beginning to fill with emotion. "And then, I heard what Marlene said in the common room, about some girl harassing you in the library? I-" he shook his head frustratedly, rubbing at his forehead with one of his hands. "I'm just mad at myself that I've let it go on for this long. Or that I didn't even know that happened."

You already felt too emotional for your liking, the feelings inside of you swirling more aggressively at every word he said to you. "It's not like it's your fault, James."

"Well it's not like I did much to stop it, did I?" He seemed genuinely angry at himself now, and you didn't know what you could do to help. A painful lump was rising in your throat, but you stayed rooted in your spot behind the sofa. "And I'd ask you why you didn't come and tell me, but that'd be a bloody stupid question."

He shook his head, eyes becoming wistful like he was recalling a memory, one that pained him. "Earlier, when Marlene was defending you in the common room, the look on your face was ... I don't know. Crushed. Sad."

You swallowed at the memory, because that had been exactly how you were feeling, amongst thousands of other ways. James looked down at his lap.

"I just wanted to try and help, do anything to make that look on your face go away, but I couldn't. So I just kept replaying how you looked in my head, and the more I thought about it, the more I hated myself because I realized you were only hurting because of me. And that was the worst part. Realizing that it was all my fault."

You felt yourself wanting to take a step towards him, wanting to just reach out to him as the tips of your fingers teemed with the longing you felt in your chest. "James," you began, your voice hushed. "It's not all your fault."

You meant it. To try and say to yourself that you had no part in all the confusion between the two of you would be a blatant lie, one that you couldn't let James go on believing, especially not with the pained look on his face.

He only shook his head at you. "It is," he insisted. "And here you go, being perfect towards me when I don't deserve it." A muscle worked overtime in his jaw. "Marlene was right. I was being selfish, and petty, and a lot of other things, but most importantly, I wasn't being a good friend." He paused, a grieving confliction tugging at his brow. "That's ... that's not what friends do."

You went still then too, the word 'friend' hanging in the air between you with a weight that only made you tired. The truth was that cobwebs had grown in the house where you'd fostered that unforgiving title, and it felt like some intangible force had locked you both inside with it blindly.

"Yeah, well," you began, your voice small, "we've been doing plenty of things that friends don't do, lately.Like you said, we kissed, right?" You let out a breathy sound like a laugh that lacked any joy, and the way James's eyes flickered up at you knocked the rest of the air right out of you.

"About that," he began hesitantly, and you could tell he was thinking about both the night it'd happened and that morning when you'd fought, just like you were. "I know you don't want that to mean anything, so it- ... it doesn't have to. Even if I want it to. Because it doesn't matter what I want—what matters to me is you."

You were thankful you had the couch next to you to brace a hand on, because you'd never felt so swept up by a conversation and you weren't sure how much longer you could stand the way your heart was nagging at you.

"You were right," swore James, but the slight shake of his eyes back and forth on your face didn't look as adamant as he sounded. "It's not fair for me to expect something from you when you already got over me."

The words you'd shouted at him in Hogsmeade that morning sounded foreign and wrong coming from his lips, and you knew the months of dishonesty that laced them like you knew the back of your hand.

"And it's too late now, I get that." His voice went from deep and determined to on the cusp of breaking, and it killed you. "I just want to know that you're happy, and if being happy means being with Vance instead of me, then ... I can deal with that."

You watched as he swallowed, like he was forcing the words to come from his lips even if it pained him. The way he hadn't broken eye contact with you the whole while was starting to make your head spin.

Your blinking sped up, maybe holding back the emotion you knew you was fighting to come out, and you whispered, "James."

Maybe you hadn't been loud enough, or maybe he just knew you'd try to disagree with him again, but he only continued determinedly at you.

"I know I probably went and ruined your chances with Vance, like an idiot, but I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you another date with him." He nodded at you once firmly, and within a second he was standing up, taking an intentional step forward. "Hell, I'll even go talk to him right now and-"

"James," you called again, louder this time. "Stop."

You put a hand out and it landed on his arm softly but firmly, and all you could was pray you could find the right words to say to him as he stared at you, level with you now in an unsteadying way.

"You didn't ruin my chances with Sebastian. It wouldn't have worked out regardless, even if I'd wanted it to. Because being with him isn't what I want." You shook your head, recalling back what James had said to you only moments before. "He wouldn't have made me happy." You sounded desperate now. "He's not you."

James stilled, his glistening eyes the only thing showing movement as they danced across your face intensely, though you saw them widen with something bright like hope. "What?"

The confusion of the word that he'd practically whispered out unspeakably attested to how you felt yourself, the terrain of the land you were exploring right there and then with James uncharted and rocky. You pushed on, knowing there was no going back now.

"Marlene wasn't completely right, James. She only said all of those things because I'd spent all this time trying to convince her—and myself—that I didn't still have feelings for you. But I do, clearly." You tipped your head down for a moment in exasperation and exhaustion, willing yourself to keep going. "Everyone can see it. All of our friends. Hell, even Sebastian could see it." You laughed, though your eyes were growing blurry. "So for me to try to push those feelings down any longer would just be lying to you and to myself." You let out an exasperated breath. "And I'm so sick of lying."

Your shoulders sunk as you stood there, a steadily shrinking distance between you and James that was both comforting and daunting to you. You couldn't do anything but watch as James's face stilled and then shifted as he thought, studying your own face in a way that made you conscious of every shift in your expression.

"I just," he began, and then raked a hand through his hair. "Why did you feel like you needed to hide how you felt in the first place?"

You felt your mouth go dry at the question—one you knew came only out of a desperate curiosity and nothing else—and your mind began spinning. The last few years of your friendship seemed to swirl in your head, flickering in and out of focus as you tried to come up with an answer.

"I-" you began, willing yourself to say something, anything at all. "I was scared." The words rang true so much that they made your heart pinch. "Scared that you wouldn't feel the same and I'd go and ruin everything. That I'd lose you."

James's hands lifted up from his sides like he wanted to reach out to you, and he did. He took your hand in his, grasping lightly at your fingertips in a touch that steadied you and made you feel lightheaded at the same time. He shook his head at you with a firm hold in his brow.

"You could never lose me."

His lips were parted, and his hazel eyes glistened over in the low common room lighting like the thought of your suggestion was painful enough on its own. Looking at him then, his face lined with years of a comforting, steadying familiarity, you knew deep in your chest that what he said was true. But that didn't alter all that you'd felt for the past number of years.

"It's not just that," you said, looking down at his hand that held yours and blinking away the guilt that crept into your stomach, because it wasn't James's fault that you had felt this way. "Even in Hogsmeade, James." Your voice was becoming unsteady again and it only frustrated you more. "What if everything you said you felt for me was just some spur-of-the-moment thing from some kiss? What if you didn't feel the same way a week from now? Or a month? I knew I wouldn't be able to get over that fear. Especially when I'd been hiding how I felt from you for years. And then there were your feelings for Lily to think about and ... I don't know."

You trailed off, finally able to stop yourself. You felt petty, so petty, because you were so close to getting what you knew your heart wanted, but you felt the insistent need to ruin things for yourself and think of every way things could go wrong. You'd never felt closer to James then, but also never farther away. All you could do was stand there and wait for him to say something, anything.

James stayed unmoving for a beat staring at you, wordlessly taking everything in with a fragility in the air that hallowed your labored breathing. Then he started to shake his head like he was in disbelief. He ran a hand through his brown hair.

"For Merlin's sake."

His voice was low, a mutter, and he stared at the ground for a moment in thought before dropping the hand that once held yours, turning and walking away from you, leaving up the steps to his dorm room. You watched his back as he disappeared, your fingertips feeling cold and empty.

You felt your blinking speed up in a dizzying confusion. You didn't know what had come over you, not even sure exactly what you'd said in all of your desperate rambling that had made him decide to leave, but your vision started to blur even more than it already had until you recognized the wetness forming beside your eyes.

Nothing made sense. Not then, and not in the last twenty-four hours. You moved until you were sitting down on the couch in front of you, feeling lightheaded as the fireplace crackled a few feet away. The light from outside had left with the sun and the room had a comforting kind of warm lighting, though even that did little to soothe you as you sat there with all the unresolved feelings within you.

You were confused and lost and wanted nothing more than to just fix things, but you were even more at a loss for words when you heard quick footsteps coming from the staircase James had left from, and then saw his returning form making its way down the steps.

You turned your head to him swiftly in confusion, following him and his soft but energetic steps as he came to sit next to you, and that was when you noticed he was holding something—a box. One that was tattered on the corners, its black fabric aged and dusting over.

You wiped at your eyes quickly, brows tugging in all your bewilderment as you waited for James to explain.

"I-" he began, and stopped as soon as his eyes focused more on your face. You must've looked as broken as you felt, and at seeing the look on your face, he held one of your hands in his before swiping across your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb.

You felt like wilting under his soft touch that you'd missed more than anything in the confusing weeks, mentally and physically exhausted from everything but still wanting more than anything to understand.

When you looked perhaps more stable, he looked back at the box that he'd set down beside him and placed it on his lap delicately as he spoke, his words echoing out slowly.

"I know you think I've just realized my feelings for you a week ago, and that they came from some kiss at a party. But, you have to believe me when I say that they're so much more than that." He placed the box in your hands, and you took it from him with a note of fragility, resting it atop your legs. His eyes bore into yours, like it would break him if you couldn't understand the words leaving his lips. He took a shaky breath in. "I need you to know, more than anything, that you're everything to me. You always have been."

Your lips began to shake at the earth-shattering words coming from your best friend's lips. "James, what-"

He stopped you with a gesture of his head that told you to look inside the box, and you did. Carefully, you lifted the flimsy cardboard top and placed it to the side, brows pulling together tight and something loud and hearty threatening to pull from your chest. You shook your head as tears began to well over your eyes again as you recognized what James had given you.

The box, the measly and old mess of cardboard and paper, was full of all the letters you'd written to him over the years—all the thank you notes, the letters you'd sent him from that summer and all the past ones—every single one of them. Your eyes raked over each of them when you felt too stunned to use your hands, but your heart still felt touched by the memories of each one all the same. It took everything in you not to release the sob you felt rising in your lungs.

"It's you. It's always been you."

James's eyes never left your face as you took everything in, the look behind them never having seemed so determined, so desperate. But there was something behind the way he looked at you, something so warm and honest, so familiar that you felt ridiculous for never noticing it before. And when your gaze flickered downward for a second in contemplation he tipped his head to follow it endearingly.

"Always," he promised. "Not Evans, not anyone else. I know I'm a bloody idiot, and I know I haven't been great at showing my emotions when it comes to you, but that's because it's you, and you mean everything to me and have since we were kids, and if this can't make you see that then I promise I'll spend every day trying to make up for it, and-"

"James." You stopped him, not knowing how much longer you could take sitting next to him and not getting rid of the frustrated crease between his brows, or how much longer you could ignore the thrum of your heart that called out to him so clearly now.

"Yeah?" he asked, and his eyes were like a deer in headlights. The warmth in their color reflected the simmering warmth from the fireplace, but that didn't compare to the fire that lay behind his gaze.

You placed the box, his box of the last six years of your friendship and then some, atop the couch next to you, and didn't wait another second before engulfing him in a hug. Your body crashed into his as he leaned back against the couch, his hands coming up to embrace you right away, and you heard him breathe a smile by your ear before he laughed, a perfect noise.

You felt like laughing then too, and crying, and everything else, because you couldn't remember the last time you'd gotten to hold him like this without the fear of revealing too much to him nagging at you. Your cheek pressed against his neck, his curls fanned against the top of your head, his hands held you tight, and you never wanted to leave the safety of his arms. Except to do one thing.

You pulled away from the hug and so did James after a second, his eyes wide and glistening but truly happy. He was smiling widely, his lopsided grin appearing after days like the sun after a storm, and you loved the sight more than anything, locking it away in the back of your mind as a memory you'd keep forever, like the box that sat next to you.

You laid a hand on his chest, another on his cheek, and James grasped the one that was flattened on his chest in his own, quickly glancing down at your hand in his like he couldn't believe he was holding it. He pulled you into him with it and leaned his head on yours.

"It's always been you, too," you whispered, and his eyes glanced down at your lips as you said the quiet words that'd been lingering on your lips for much too long. You had to push away your smile because you were aching to just kiss him like you'd wanted to for years. With a courage that could've only come from Godric himself, you finally did.

You leaned in until your lips met, a flutter of skin dancing shyly together until you leaned into him even further, and suddenly it felt like the crash of a wave, and sounded like the earth was moving beneath your feet, the sound of something right—and this time, you knew it felt the same for him too, because you could feel his boyish grin that you'd spent years admiring tugging against your lips.

You were kissing your best friend. For real this time. It felt so impossible for your mind to imagine such a thing, but luckily it didn't have to.

James moved his hands but they never left you, one sliding through your hair smoothly and one delicately holding your waist like you were something fragile. Butterflies fluttered through you at his touch, something familiar but foreign, wrong but also right, and somessilyperfect. You couldn't believe you'd spent all those years just a few words away from getting to feel it, getting to be surrounded by it.

You pulled away after a moment, your lips feeling puffy and burning with the heat of his kiss, but all you could think about was how free you felt, how happy you were that he was finally yours.

James looked down at you, his eyes dancing all across your face and stopping on your lips, and then somehow growing even warmer when they met yours again.

"I can't-" he began with a slight disbelieving shake of his head, voice coming out breathless and dazed as heat flushed into your own cheeks at the sight. "I can't believe..."

You laughed, feeling out of breath too, and adjusted the glasses that now perched crookedly on James's nose in an agonizingly cute way.

"Me neither," you finished for him, because you knew just how he felt, a secret the both of you shared; it was the only secret you still wanted to keep.

And it was a feeling you never wanted to have to live without again. Though now, with him in your arms and his familiar chocolate curls still brushing against your forehead, you knew you would never have to.

taglist!!

@hisparentsgallerryy @msmk11 @garfieldsladybird @empath-bunny @urmykindofwoman @bambi-jp @babyclea @kenjikishimotoswifey @cloudroomblog @the-marauders-mapp @mooonyxoxo @imgondeletedis @moon-flowerrs @fruticake @arey0usirius @marauroon @swiftsgirlfriend @jamieolivia27 @magicwithaknife

[edgeray]

HI, first of all, i love your write so much 💕💕💕💕💕, you're so creative, please, as long as you feel good writing, write!!! You are very good at it, and you feed Arle stans so weel.

Second, did you by any chance watched bridgerton ? If not, just ignore it, it's more to give a historical context (and dresses in beautiful scenery, for sure). Bridgerton is a period show (and books) that takes place at the beginning of the 19th century (1810-1820) [Although, I think Arlecchino would fit even more within the context of the Victorian age, but I think it might be an idea saved for another request]. Given the context, I believe my request becomes clearer :

Arlecchino who pretends to be a man (dressing and acting like one) to get married to the reader.

It's not news to anyone that Arlecchino is part of a powerful nobility family and it's also not news to anyone that she hates playing the female role given to her (and I can't imagine her wearing the fluffy dress ever!!!!), so seeing her childhood best friend become the diamond of the season (basically the favorite debutant of the season for both the queen and the suitors, in a very short way) She realizes that she needs to enter the marriage market too, in this case to fight for your hand.

Please feel free to change any part of the order, I don't want this to become boring for you to write.

So thank you for share your works and read it, (can i?) 🪷anon.

Courting a Lie

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader)

A/N- Of course you can be 🪷 anon! Thank you for your kind words. I aim to feed. Arle for everyone!! Sorry that this is super late… I will assume the reader is female for this because a debutant is a woman. Also didn't know how to make it GN! since there's no gender neutral aristocratic titles as far as I know. Sorry GN! readers :(  While I haven't watched Bridgerton, from your description of the era, I've read quite a few manhwas set in a European aristocratic society that sounds just like this. I get the general gist of what you're saying from those manhwas so I drew some inspiration from there.  I've never really written for a historical fiction AU so we shall see how this goes. Apologies in advance if it is cringe. I did change a few things for the plot, but not because it was boring, more because of my own plot/backstory building. I actually had a lot of fun researching random bits for this request, and this request is among my most developed and thoughtful works on Tumblr! Still don't know how to dialogue though… I really liked writing this kind of setting so I would be pretty happy if a part 2 of this was requested... how did I do in terms of writing this? hopefully not too far from bridgerton?   Content warnings / info - arlecchino is referred to as a man and uses masculine pronouns for a little bit, 2.0k words

You don't quite remember what occasion it was when you first met her. Perhaps it was a charity ball or some celebration. Either way, you were at most eight years of age when you met your first friend, a quiet, petite child hiding in the corner of the Snezhevna Estate's garden, ducked nearby a bush. You wandered away from the garden party, as you couldn't find any other children your age that weren't pestering, so you explored the edges, admiring the flowers. 

You stumbled upon a white haired child, with her white dress sullied by her kneeling on the dirt. Similarly, her pale hands were soiled, as if she had dug into the earth with her fingers alone. You nearly gasped at the sight–no lady would ruin their dress so carelessly, especially a dress seemingly adorned as hers. Nevertheless, you were in awe of the courage to do so. Was it possible she wasn't educated well? It'd be damaging to her family's reputation if anyone were to see the condition of her apparel.

You approached her carefully, your voice small in hopes that you wouldn't sound rude. 

“Hello,” you greeted first, and the child turned her head over her shoulder, gazing at you. 

Your breath hitched as you glanced at her eyes, each black pit filled with a red cross in the center that made you suppose she didn't fit into any aristocratic family. You didn't know of any noble family that had such eyes, and it's only been known from noble families to hold particular sets of eyes. Did this girl really belong to nobility? 

“I know I'm not supposed to be in the dirt. Now leave me alone,” she says before turning away, her voice sounding far too monotone and androgynous for you to consider her a young noble lady. Nonetheless, the clear difference between her and the other guests of the function intrigued you. She was educated, or at least it seemed like it, but she had a disregard for creating a good impression. You ignored her request, instead, plopping yourself down beside her to see what it was in the dirt she was so interested in. 

“What are you digging in the dirt for?” You asked. She slumped, as if irritated by your persisted presence. 

“I'm looking for bugs. So go away, unless you want a spider on you,” she warned without looking at you, with the evident expectation her threat would ward you away. 

It did not, in fact, deter you. If anything, you pressed on, your expression contorting to that of fascination. “What kind of bugs?”

That seemed to snatch the young girl's attention as she turned to you, widened eyes as she observed you, searching your face for any lies. She couldn't believe that there was someone else who could be so ‘lady-like.’ Her apathy returns shortly after, and she glances back at the mound of dirt before her. 

“Young ladies aren't supposed to be interested in pests or dirtying their hands,” the white-haired child states, but it seems more like a recital of someone else's words. 

“Maybe. But it's fun, right?” You replied, offering her a small smile.

Although she still didn't face you, you watched her eyes gleam with life. Your grin grew in accordance. 

“So… you like bugs?” She questioned as she cups a worm she managed to uproot. 

“No way. Not touching them,” you shutted her down immediately and she pouted as you shook your head vigorously. 

“But… I thought you were better company than those other kids. So… I hope you don't mind having me too much?” you sheepishly remarked, wincing a bit at your apparent nervousness. In response, the girl huffed, gracing you with a faint smile. The sight sent flutters through your stomach, filling you with a rush of giddiness you never felt before. 

“Just don't scream, okay?” Is all she answered back.

And that was how you befriended the bastard daughter of the Snezhevna family. Since then, the two of you have been exchanging letters, and met each other at every possible social gathering in secret. Although your family discouraged meeting her so often, you ignored them. However, when you had just turned twelve, her letters stopped, as if she disappeared. You asked Marchioness Crucabena about her daughter, and all you received from the matriarch was a cold cut message: Peruere was receiving ‘education’ for indefinitely. 

Your heart sunk as you crinkled the letter in your hands, tears welling in your eyes at the thought of never seeing your dear friend again. Where had Peruere gone? You hastily wrote another letter, inquiring more about the education or if Peruere could write you back, but the Marchioness would not indulge you with additional information, essentially telling you to mind your business and to stop writing to her. 

You remember weeping into your pillows for the entire night until your eyes dried up, red and puffy from rubbing them constantly. You were haunted by memories of star gazing, of laying on the garden grass, of lounging in one another's arms. Your few moments of bliss were gone forever, stripped away with her absence. 

— 

Pureure always wished she wasn't born into a noble family. Aristocratic society was tedious and pretentious. Why her father ever chose to engage with something as disgusting as the Marchioness, it most definitely wasn't out of love–a fabled concept among nobles really. Peruere knew little of what happened to the late Marquess–his death was caused by a carriage accident–but she knew her birth father was with the Marchioness after the death. 

Regardless, between her and her half-sister Clervie, the Marchioness deemed Peruere better fitted as the heir of the family. In Peruere's opinion, Clervie would have made an impressive matriarch. However, when she inquired Clervie about it, her sister vehemently rejected the notion, wanting to remain carefree as she always was. For as heedless as her older sister was, she would be the model of a noblewoman, the favorite debutante had she wanted to take on the aristocratic responsibilities. In any case, Marchioness Crucabena always had a noticeable distaste for the two of them and Peruere suspected it was because she had no sons and marrying once more would mean losing the inheritance of her late husband. 

Peruere soon learned why exactly she was chosen as the next heir. It was easier for her to pose as a male rather than Clervie in order to appease the Marchioness. Added with Peruere's bastard status, few people knew of her existence, or more so, her familial ties with the Marchioness. With the Marchioness’s ‘education’ Peruere, the bastard daughter with a commoner surname, was transformed into Arlecchino Snezhevna, a bastard son with the Snezhevna surname, and so inheritor of the Marquess title. Pereure was erased effectively in the span of six years. 

Because Arlecchino was a bastard son, that label would have made it difficult to impose herself among other noblemen, and most especially, marry another powerful family. In that sense, what she could not make up in legitimacy, she had to make up in other qualities as a noble. Her hours, from dawn to dusk, consisted of history, economy, and art lessons, etiquette and mannerisms classes, 

and learning various skills such as conversational, dancing, equestrian, fencing, and hunting. Obtaining any length of slumber came few and far, and when rest was finally permitted, her body often ached too much for her to drift.

Instead, she laid conscious at night, her head tilted towards the window, the stars winking back at her. Her thoughts returned to you, as they always have during her respites, and she would wonder again and again if you were looking at the same night sky as she was, reminiscing over memories of stargazing. She often raised her hands to her eyes, the only question lingering in her mind would be if you would recognize these hands if she met you again, the same hands that held you. Alone in her chambers, Arlecchino, no Peruere, promised that she would meet you again, and maybe, this time she would never have to leave your side again. 

She only hoped that she would be good enough for you. 

—

Your heart is thumping rapidly against your chest while your clammy and fidgety hands grasp onto the gloved hand of your dance partner, maintaining deep breaths and keeping your composure as best as possible. You match the steps of the bachelor gracefully and diligentfully, feeling many spectators’ gazes on your back. It’s both invigorating and exhausting to realize that you are the diamond of the season. Receiving this many dance requests is a good sign, yes, but it only means that you are creeping closer to having to choose a suitor.

And inevitably lose Peruere forever. 

You quickly snap out of your thoughts in order to further entertain your dance partner with small talk, and finally the dance ends. 

“Thank you, Earl Childe. It was a pleasure dancing with you. You make an excellent dancer,” you offer the young redhead a beaming expression. 

“You're quite one yourself. I quite enjoyed our time. Perhaps we could dance more privately at a later date?” The sauve bachelor replies back, matching your practiced smile with a cocky one. 

“Perhaps,” is all you say, and thankfully the bachelor walks away. 

You let out a sigh of relief, but it seems you thought too soon, as another set of footsteps approach you from behind. Turning around, you’re met with perhaps the most refined and handsome gentleman you've graced your eyes upon. Immediately, you feel your cheeks swell and you feel unnaturally timid. Sincere red-crossed eyes meet yours, and a faint, charming smile stretches on the lips of the nearing bachelor.

“May I have this dance, Lady [F/N]?” He offers his hand gracefully, and you take his. 

“I haven't introduced myself, pardon me. I am, Earl Arlecchino, Earl of Snezhevna,” he introduces himself with a knowing smile, or rather, she introduces herself as your face contort to that of shock at the mention of her family name. You halt as she initiates the dance, her grin growing as fondness spreads over her facial expression.

“Peruere?” You whisper as you reach out, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder, your other gloved hand in hers. Her body warmth bleeds through the contact, and you sense it flow through your entire body. 

“It's Arlecchino, for appearances. I trust you won't expose me?” Peruere says, her eyes scanning over your entire form in awe. “You're… I don't quite have enough words to describe you. You're utterly beautiful.” 

You flush at the compliment before you forcefully tear yourself away from the bubbling giddiness within you, nodding at her first question. Your face attempts to appear stern and angry, but your eyes sabotage that. “I missed you… dearly. Where have you gone? Why didn't you write to me? I kept waiting for you…” 

Peruere's face softens, morphing to one of regret and sympathy. “I haven't stopped thinking of you either. My mother demanded I suddenly take lessons on how to be a nobleman, and with that, I was no longer Peruere, but Arlecchino. During that time, I had to endure everything my mother gave me, and I hardly had time to sleep. I have tried to send you some, but I suspected that the Marchioness meticulously checked what was sent and received. I've kept a pile of letters that I wrote for you, so you would be able to read everything I had to say over the years.” 

You inhale slowly before nodding, understanding her words. “You kept plaguing my dreams, Arlecchino. You don't know how long I've wanted to see you. Please… never leave me again. I don't think I can bear being without you again.” 

It's Arlecchino's turn to be surprised. “You… Are you asking me what you think you're asking me?” She breathlessly inquires, her voice on the edge of exhilaration, and you give her a hopeful smile. 

You nod. “I… I always thought you were the one since we were little. I didn't want to spend my time with anyone else. So… can you be beside me again?” 

Peruere nearly melts at your request. “As long as you'll allow me another dance.” 

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Hi, please, please, please! I need a premise where Simon finds a pregnancy test in the house he shares with his wife believing it is hers, upset and anxious he asks her for explanations, without giving her the time to give an answer. The test was his girl's sister's ❤️ :')

A Good Father

Ghost x Wife!Reader

Ghost is anxious about being a father.

SFW, Extreme Fluff, Husband!Ghost, Wife!Reader, Comfort, Pregnancy Scares, Domestic, Softness, Vulnerability, Awkward Conversations, Innocent Misunderstandings, I'm reluctant to say there's humor, Scarcely Proofread, Drabble

Personally, I do feel like Ghost would be flustered if he found out his wife was pregnant with his first child. HOWEVER, I don't think he would act rude or distant or cold. Not on purpose. This is how I interpret that I guess. And thank you anon, this was an interesting topic. If you have anymore please don't be shy! ^^

Masterlist

It'd been an accident when he found it, and the kind of accident that could put a man six feet under if you weren't careful.

It was a sunny and rare fall day in which Simon had been let off work before you for once; a welcome change to his usual routine, as he'd been looking forward to surprising you.

He started with the kitchen, knowing it had been one of your least favorite places to clean. He washed and put away the dishes before wiping down the counters, making quick work with sweeping before mopping. In the blink of an eye he'd already straightened up the living room, which made the dining room light work in comparison. All that had remained was the bathroom, your second least favorite room to clean.

When he arrived home and saw you were gone, he'd thought to himself -- What would be a better surprise than coming home to your man and a clean home? It hadn't been as often as he liked where he was given such an opportunity, so he jumped at the chance without question the second the idea popped into his mind.

There hadn't been much to contend with, a few misplaced clothes and some used towels. He'd just begun picking things up when he'd suddenly heard something small clatter against the bathroom tiles. Finally he saw the tiny, long piece of white plastic sitting tucked between the toilet and the counter -- A pregnancy test.

At first glance Simon froze, unsure as to what exactly he was even looking at. It hadn't been every day he was faced with these sorts of things; you'd only recently broken the record for being the longest relationship he's been in. So when he saw it, his mind hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions. Not at first...

...But when he picked it up off the floor and felt the thing in his hands, it was as the whole world had stopped. His brown eyes skimmed over that red plus sign at the corner of the test and reality felt anew. A positive result.

A number of emotions ran through Simon, though none could be more certain than the sudden shakiness to his grip and the tightening of his jaw. A pang of nausea coarsed through him, soon followed by a sudden guilt for that. He must have stood in that bathroom for a solid three minutes before his thoughts had somewhat gathered...

Pregnant. You were pregnant, and you didn't tell him. Why? Had you not planned on keeping it, or were you simply just waiting to break the news to him?

Robotically, naturally, Simon finds himself continuing with what he was doing before, throwing the test away and continuing with cleaning. He hadn't known what else to do really; anything else and he may just storm out and call you about it.

But no, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. His emotions are just out of sorts now and he's confused. There wouldn't be a point in channeling that confusion into anger and taking it out on you, especially since you're the one with the answers.

The final thing to clean had been the mirror. As Simon began to wipe the glass down, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. There he sees the battered husk he barely recognized at times. A father.

It felt unreal. Both too good to be true and a waking nightmare. He'd always dreamed of being a father some day, perhaps, in a different life which allowed him to be a part of his child's world in the proper way that he had desired. Some parts had been out of spite of his own father, having had some subliminal need to prove to a ghost what a real parent looks like. Other parts of him genuinely longed for a family of his own, and something he could be a part of from the start and see through to the end. To be a father would make him the happiest man alive.

Yet he wasn't ready, not now. Not in ways in which he felt he could really be of any use to you and your child. He feared every bit that could replicate his own childhood into his life today. There had still been so much of himself he'd felt needed to be set right before bringing someone into this world under him. He'd just wanted this moment to be perfect...

Simon didn't bring it up when you got home. Seeing the excitement on your face to see him nearly made him forget about the whole ordeal entirely. But it lingered on his mind like a heavy weight, and you could see it.

You asked him if he was OK, and despite himself he'd told you he was fine, only tired. He'd hoped that perhaps you might bring it up yourself, though you don't, merely continuing about the evening as usual.

Dinner was awkward, mainly do to Simon's stoic behavior, even moreso than usual. He stayed up to watch a movie with you, though he hadn't said much at all during it, forgoing his usual jokes and one-liners.

It hadn't been until you'd crawled into bed next to him that he finally spoke, though it hadn't been what you expected to hear.

"Do you think I'd make a good father?"

The question catches you off guard and you laugh and little, rotating yourself in his arms and resting your chin on his chest to look at him. From there you've felt his fluttering heartbeat dancing anxiously against your palms.

"Of course I do, Si'," you say. "Why?"

He's quiet again. Even in the dark you know those brown eyes are sifting through the room, looking anywhere but where you are. His hands over you shuffle slightly, and he sighs. "I have my doubts sometimes."

"I don't know why," you smile. "You're one of the best men I've ever met. I've always thought you'd make good "dad" material."

Simon can't help but smile. "Is that right?"

"I mean you've already got the dad jokes down," you tease. "What more do you need?"

You both laugh lightly to each other, and Simon feels a warmth grow in him that only you seem able to bring forth. Even when you know something is on his mind, you go out of your way to make him smile first. It's these reasons he loved you.

"Is this your way of saying you're interested in... trying?"

Unsure of what ruse you were playing now, and no longer being able to hold himself back any longer, Simon sits up, signaling to you that this was about to become something much deeper than anticipated.

"No," he says rather coldly. Too blunt for what he'd intended.

"Oh," you say, unable to hide the disappointment in you tone. You then look up to him, confused. "Is something the matter? You've been acting odd since I got home."

"I'm just wondering when you're going to break the news to me."

"The news?"

"Your first step into motherhood."

You pause. "My... what? What are you on about?"

"I found the pregnancy test."

You pause again, audibly making a confused "oop" noise as you tried to figure out what it was your husband was talking about. "Pregnancy test?"

The confusion in your tone now only makes Simon pause. "Yes," he says. "A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test."

You're sitting there racking through your brain now, trying to recall when it was you took this said test. Having brought it up, all the thoughts Simon's had little time to sort through can't help but spill from him now.

"I'm not mad," he leads with. "I'm just... I wasn't...

"Oh!" You interject suddenly, a light bulb going off over your head. "That was my sister's!"

"...Wha'?"

"My sister came over this morning. She didn't want our mom to find it so I said she could do it here," you explain, before chuckling. "Though I'm gonna have to yell at her later since can't clean up after herself... Didn't mean to spook you though, love."

Simon sits there silent and frozen, still processing the last minute. "...So you're not pregnant then?"

"No," you laugh. "Not that I know of anyway."

No. He won't be a father after all. If he'd felt his emotions swirling earlier, they've torn into a twister now. He won't be a father.

It disappointed him, despite his reluctance earlier. Had he been looking forward to it more as the day went on? This was for the best, nonetheless. Now at least he could breathe again.

"Fuckin' hell," Simon lets out a heavy sigh, a boulder of stress dropping from his shoulders like a landslide. "Don't scare me like that, love. Y'nearly did me in with that."

You smirk, climbing back onto Simon until your legs were straddling him against the bed. You lean forward, letting your nose brush his and his breath detail his presence to you in the dark. Before you've kissed him, you linger there for a spell, simply marinating in the moment.

"I still think you'd make a wonderful father, Si'."

You feel him sigh, his body sinking comfortably beneath you, as you've felt his callous palms cup your cheeks gently.

"You'd make a beautiful mother."

"I'm still up for trying," you say. "If you think we're ready, I mean..."

Simon pulls you in, until your lips have found his, locking in its familiar ways. Between the soft pecks he'd left, he spoke to you softly, holding you close.

"We're not getting any younger."

(╹◡◠)

[blueberrymocha]

killua alphabet

A: how affectionate are they?

✰ he's not affectionate. he's not very used to it obviously, growing up how he did. it'd probably fluster him a lot too, so it'd take a lot of time before he showed you much affection.

B: would they break up with their partner?

✰ i don't think so. he's pretty commutative with you so if you were having troubles, he'd prefer to talk it out over ending things.

✰ if he were to though, he's the type not to tell you in person, leaving a note or message.

C: what is cuddling like with them?

✰ he's not picky, sometimes he could be sprawled across you while other times you'll be spooning him. if you asked him, he wouldn't turn it down but he himself rarely initiates, so you'd probably only cuddle at night or if you weren't feeling well.

D: what do your dates look like?

✰ mostly doing activities together. he'd prefer you're not just sitting around since you already have plenty time to do that. some of his favorites would be skateboarding, training/sparring, arcade, and surfing.

E: do they have a lot of energy?

✰ definitely not. he's super laidback and chill, but he'd love a partner who balanced him out by being wild and energized.

F: who made the first move?

✰ you did. it definitely seemed like a one sided crush for you, so you never intended to tell him. but once while you were having an fight, it slipped out and he was like :0 "you too?"

G: what kind of gifts do they give you?

✰ he'd be so greedy when it came to anyone else, but with you he always shares. so instead of buying you a ton of gifts, he gives you bites of his food or lets you borrow his clothing.

��� when he does buy a gift though, it's not cheap at all. he has a good balance of thoughtful and expensive, so it'll probably be something you like to use often, such as perfume in your favorite scent.

H: would they have any habits?

✰ staying up late/pulling all-nighters. he just doesn't sleep for some reason. you can pull him into bed, but a good quarter of the time he'll just stay awake.

I: how often do they say "i love you"?

✰ he's a little too embarrassed to say it to your face, so he'll tell you when you're sleeping or on call. so while technically quite often, the only time you'd hear it is on special occasions like your birthday.

J: what's it like when they're jealous?

✰ he's super cold and rude to the person he's jealous of. he might also get snappy with you. if it goes on for too long he'll find some excuse and end the exchange himself.

✰ he'd definitely be in a bad mood the rest of the day unless you pulled him to the side and talked about it. once you reassure him that you don't care for the other person, his whole demeanor changes and he completely denies ever being jealous.

K: how do they feel about kids?

✰ he's too young to have given it much thought. not to mention while growing up, he'd never expected to love someone enough to start a family anyway.

✰ if you did decide to have children, he wants a daughter so bad. he literally radiates girl dad energy.

L: how loyal are they?

✰ fully committed to you. there's just no chance this boy would ever leave you, especially not for someone else.

M: what are mornings like with them?

✰ he's very soft in the morning, much lower energy than during the day. you'd probably wake up to him with an arm around you while he talks about any plans today. once you're fully awake, he'd be back to his usual self, asking what you want to do for breakfast.

N: what nicknames do they call you?

✰ nothing romantic. he'd use an inside joke and never let you live it down. he's too much of a tsundere to actually be nice 💀

O: how observant are they?

✰ he's pretty observant, but he also has a habit of reading into things too much or doubting himself. if he noticed something going on with you, like you're in a bad mood and keep complaining about cramps, he'd assume it's your period but would shy away from confirming it incase he jumped to conclusions.

P: how do they feel about pda?

✰ not for him. even if you like it, he still wouldn't want to. he just doesn't want to be that couple who's all over eachother in public.

Q: how quick do they fall in love?

✰ it takes a while. people don't grow on him fast to begin with, and you're his first love so it's also an unfamiliar feeling. once he does realize his love, he'd probably deny or ignore it.

R: how romantic would they be?

✰ not at all in your day to day life. on anniversaries and birthdays though, he'd plan things out and be much more confident.

✰ i see him as a rose petals leading you to the box of gourmet chocolates with a pretty card and teddy bear before taking you to your favorite restaurant on valentine's day type of guy.

✰ but again he's only like that when he has time to prepare. otherwise, he’s so unromantic it’s as if you’re just friends…

S: what would they smell like?

✰ he doesn't have a strong scent. you probably wouldn't smell anything unless he'd just put on cologne or whatever. speaking of, i see him enjoying sweet scents, he's big on vanilla.

T: how do they show they trust you?

✰ when he lets you show him physical affection. he wouldn't lay in the lap of anyone else, so if he's reciprocative to your touch, he trusts you a lot.

U: how understanding are they?

✰ he can be unintentionally apathetic and too honest sometimes, but if you need grace he'll always hear you out. and while he might not understand, he's there for you the best he can be.

V: how vulnerable are they with you?

✰ he's never vulnerable unless he has a nightmare. he mostly wants to move on from the past, so he wouldn't talk about what happened during his childhood a lot.

✰ when he does talk, he really doesn't know how to say things, so it's more of a rambling. he'd be so thankful if you'd just wrap your arms around him while he finds the right words.

W: whole, do they feel incomplete without you?

✰ for sure. the two of you are joined at the hip, he’ll want to do everything with you. if you ever have to be apart, he’ll still try and keep contact. in cases where it’s not possible, he’d be very irritable the whole time.

✰ he gets used to your presence surprisingly easily, so its like he’s missing something whenever you’re gone.

X: whats an xtra headcanon?

✰ his hair is super fluffy. i feel like mito might've said something like that in 1999, so if she did i totally agree.

Y: how many years would they wait to propose?

✰ he'd ideally wait until your mid twenties. he doesn't see a rush to get married and wants the two of you to enjoy the dating stage. if you happen to be adamant about marrying young, he’ll propose a lot quicker, after all, your happiness comes first.

Z:  zzz, who falls asleep first?

✰ you, no question.

[marioluigifan134]

The Voice of Skeeter/Henry about Nora/Starbitedreams/UmbreonDarkEdge

Hello, this is Nickolas of Miiblr writing for a brief moment here, I need to address what is really happening between us (more specifically, a user named @patti-mayonnaise A.K.A. Skeeter/Henry) and Nora/Starbitedreams, because I am getting really sick of watching people defend this person when they are not an innocent person at all. I will give this post to Skeeter's side now, here's his side of what is going on.

This is about Skeeter's relationship with Starbite.

Everything Skeeter/Henry writes will be in black text to avoid confusion (my text is in purple).

Also, there are some Trigger Warnings that I want to warn you all about, as this post contains sexually explicit and suggestive content and manipulation!

hey. im henry (starby's ex boyfriend, who came out about his actions to the mods.) fuck idk where to begin. maybe i should start with the harmless stuff because god i suck with my words starbys obsessive behavior always bothered me when i was with him. i felt like it'd be impossible for me to even speak to him because of how clingy he could get. this also came to play when i started to get f/os (i use self shipping as a coping mechanism which i guess.. pissed him off??)

ah! speaking of his bpd! he would blame it on literally everything. especially his hypersexuality. hell, he even thought making porn of IRL ME, WHOS 15 (he drew it when i was 14) WOULD BE OK??? STARBY HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING THAT SHIT CAN GET YOU IN TROUBLE

before you say "oh henry!! why didn't you stop him??" well with the given ss, i didn't have a choice. considering i was his bf at the time, i thought it'd be best to keep my mouth shut and let him do what he wants, but i was very uncomfy. considering im asexual

starby, YOU. ARE. MY. BOYFRIEND. i should be having to ask you to comfort me, ffs!!

now here's the flat out racism. before september 8th hit and i was still 14, i was talking to starby about how my dad didn't give me a quince (for personal reasons, even tho its our tradition) and with one google search, heres what he had to say

"pedophile ass shit" STARBY THATS NOT HOW IT WORKS??? AT LEAST THATS NOT HOW MY FAMILY DOES IT??? you're not even mexican yourself so how do you know???? insensitive ass

anyways moving on, going back to my self ship discussion, he would get very butthurt about my obsessions and f/os (mostly doug, my comfort character and bravoman, my f/o (who is portrayed without his suit and his mii form) which i find very ironic considering he would not stfu about wanting to fuck an old man (taizo hori)

(context for the last two images) i was in a doug server with him (since he asked and i figured cuz hes OBSESSED) with me and idk i guess he got jealous that i wasnt in the same fandom as him so he found reasons for me to not like doug??? idk but the way he worded it was very rude and i was reached out by two mods and the server owner with how uncomfortable he made everyone felt. so eventually he got banned

..thats all i have to say. bottom line is that i hope he gets the help he needs.

henry out

Alright, Nickolas is back, and I want to mention that me and my friends also had our fair share of experiences with Nora. While it is not finished (as far as I know), I feel the need to share the doc explaining them here, because what it contains should tell you everything in our true experiences.

[ilsole]

Stupidly in Love

A flourish of ribbons fly in the air as a certain jester lays out a nifty little fabric square upon fresh grass, a clearing within a great field, the forest behind, sun in the sky, birds singing their little theatre songs.

Fool gave a synthetic breath in, before turning to his companion.

Misuta glared up at the bright skies above, before he himself turned to Fool, a slight look of confusion coming to his face.

"When you asked if we could go out together, I wasn't expecting... this."

Fool gave the man a cheshire smile.

"Why not? A beautiful day to spend with someone I hold so nice and dear to the heart?"

Misuta sat down in a huff, but Fool had noticed those flushed cheeks immediately.

"... It... is nice today, you're right."

"As I am so often~"

Fool deftly landed on his behind beside Misuta, twirling his baton in his limber hands before settling it down upon the blanket beneath.

Today, there'll be no sun nor moon, just him and the heart stealer beside him.

Oh yes...

"What's in the basket? We can't eat..."

Misuta asks a very promising question, responded to with a curved eye smile.

"Oh, my sweet man~ I'm very glad you asked!"

Fool reaches out, lugging the basket closer before popping the lid up, exposing its treasures like a trove untold.

"Books-?"

"I know how much you love reading, so, I may have sneaked a few books from our little Sweetling~"

A leer was sent the fool's way.

"You stole from them."

'Not unlike how you stole my heart', Fool was so close to saying the words on his very lips, yet he refrained, it was too soon.

"No, no, this fool would never go so low. My... what do you take me for?"

Fool had leant back, a hand to his chest in mock offense, yet he peeked open an eye to view Misuta as silence ringed between them.

Crossed arms met him, a single raised eyebrow with the most unamused expression greeted him in return.

"A thief."

"You hurt me."

"Good."

To anyone else, it'd be rude, but the two shared a coupling laughter.

Misuta would reach into the basket, pulling out the top book.

'The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe'

Misuta hummed in thought, sitting back on a palm as he flipped open the hardcover entertainment, eyes already starting to flitter over the words and read.

Fool picked up his own book, yet he knew he wouldn't be reading, for his attention was taken by another, just as intriguing, thing.

Minutes passed, a comfortable silence settling between the two, one reading, the other attempting.

Fool took in no information, his gaze glancing up to the source of his warmth and love that had spiraled way out of his control.

He wanted to reach out, hold Misuta close to him and never let go, yet there was something holding him back, he wasn't sure...

"Fool...?"

Misuta was looking up at him, why was he so close suddenly? Fool shifted an arm, realizing exactly what was going on.

In his little daydream, he had indeed gotten closer to Misuta, their bodies touching, and Fool's arm had wrapped around Misuta's back, fingers a breath away from his waist.

Fool brought his mismatch up, meeting Misuta's own fuchsia.

"I-I..."

For once, Fool was speechless, his smile drooping at the corners as a flood of nerves was thrust upon him, he's sure he'd be sweating if he could.

He was frozen in place, staring, fake heart pounding with real love, one he felt when around the man in his arms, and the precious Sweetling.

Time stilled as the two stayed in their places, like deer under a scope, they were too nervous to move.

Until Misuta's eyes flicked down.

Fool took that as a sign.

He leant in, lips pressing to Misuta's so softly, he'd have melted, and felt like he would when the pressure was returned soon enough.

Fool's book fell to his lap as he brought a hand up to caress Misuta's face, a small order to stay where he was, yet neither of them wanted to pull away, not even for a second.

They caressed each other, eyes closed as they laid in their shared embrace, an arm tightening around a waist, pulled closer.

Until, they parted, while they had no breath to lose, they still wanted to see one another.

Eyes opened, and their love filled eyes met once more, a deeper understanding now felt within the two.

"Cariad… I… Rwy'n dy garu di…"

Misuta blinked at the foreign words before a soft laugh escaped his lips, and he presses another kiss to Fool's own.

"私も愛しているよ."

A mutual agreement of love, Fool almost couldn't believe it.

He wrapped his other arm around Misuta, hoisting the man upon his awaiting lap, making sure Misuta couldn't escape his grasp now that he was finally his.

"Oh… thank the very Heavens…"

Fool whispered into Misuta's neck, a sigh escaping the man as arms wrapped around his neck.

"Fool…"

"Mm… already with the pet names?"

Misuta rolled his eyes, though his amusement was as clear as the very sky they were under.

"Idiot."

"So mean to me…~ How could you be so rude to your boyfriend~"

They both stilled at that, realization dawning on each of their faces. Boyfriend.

They… are together.

They're in love.

A fluffy hood buried itself into Fool's chest, a heat being felt through Fool's flowy shirt.

"バカ…バカ…バカ…バカ…"

Fool laughed his sweet bird song laugh, his arms bringing Misuta closer to him even still, offering comfort to the flustered man.

"Mm… your stupid."

Stupidly in love.

For @venomous-qwille's gorgeous au Ghost in the Machien that hosts the best characters I've seen written in fiction and have my heart in a death grip <3

[widemindeddreamer]

Quiet

(Danny Wagner x F Reader)

MINORS DNI!! 18+

Warnings: Smut. it's all sex. Oral if you squint (M Receiving)

Day-Jobs are shit. You work all day with shitty, uptight people for a paycheck that's just enough to make ends meet. You couldn't stand the place, a cubicle, all alone, with no scenery to look at but the picturesque landscape on your computer monitor. A dream it would be to just drop everything you're doing and dive into it, away from the dreary, boring, beige, black and white, depressing......

you snap out of it. 5:00 pm. your shift is over. You look over at the unfinished paperwork, already collecting dust. The library was calling your name. You collect your things and stride out the door, the cool fall breeze flowing over you sending chills down your spine and a wave of comfort through your soul.

The library was super old, and always empty, but you loved it. The aroma of old books always brought you a sense of serenity as you flicked through them, finding one that would spark interest, and as you read, you would dream of a life that was different than the one you have now.

You walk through the library door, the quiet jingle of bells ringing through your ears, and you see him. A new librarian, with long, curly brown hair and eyes that glow with a brown-green hue. He's quiet, different from the usual librarian you see: Mrs. Garner. You try to brush the thought of him away as you do the same thing you always do: Flick through the books and read until you think you might pass out. This time felt different. The thought of him couldn't leave your mind, his eyes burning a hole into the back of your head. You try to maintain contact with the books, but your eyes drift towards him like a magnet. shit...shit...SHIT. he's staring right at me already....How long has he been staring? you thought to yourself. You quickly turn away, face flushed in red, rifling through the books before you can even read the titles. You pick out a random book just to check out. To see him. You approach the desk and you're already trembling. You clear your throat; "Hi," you softly stutter out, "I'm...Y/N, I'd like to check out this ...book. Uhm...here's my uh..card"

He looks up at you and smiles. "I'm Daniel. Daniel Wagner, but you can just call me Danny". You smile back at him, and end up in a conversation, completely discarding the book.

"I'm actually working here as a part-time librarian." he says "I live in the next town over, and I figured since it'd be so quiet, I would never have to deal with anyone, especially since nobody ever comes here." he laughs with a shrug.

"I come here often. I work a full-time job downtown. It's hell, honestly. Co-workers are always rude, my boss is always yelling, piles of paperwork collecting dust bunnies and cobwebs, just waiting to be filled out. This library is the only thing that brings me comfort and feels like...well..home."

"That does sound like hell, I could never work in a place like that." a tone of sympathy in his voice. He glances down to his watch, and smiles.

"It's time for my break, do you," he pauses "do you want to come with me to the break room? We can keep talking and, y'know, get to know each other better" he asks shyly. A simple nod in approval was all it took. The two of you walked to the break room, you both sat on a small couch, with no space for either of you to be completely apart. The gap was completely closed. The conversation continues, sharing information about life outside of jobs, hobbies, the list went on.

It felt like hours had passed, eons, maybe. It felt like you had known Danny since you were children, even though you've only known him for a few hours. Something about him felt right. It made you crave him. He was consuming every thought you had until there was nothing else to think about but Danny and Danny only.

danny...danny...danny...

danny this...danny that...blah blah blah...

The conversation slowly dwindled into silence. Silence so loud you could hear your own heartbeat pounding through your ears. Air so thick with lust and desire you could suffocate. Each hair on your arm standing on end, each and every breath you took almost felt like not taking a breath at all. The anticipation was overwhelming and you couldn't take much more. You felt like it was time to go. You stand up to leave, dusting invisible lint off of your now wrinkled clothes from sitting. As you walk towards the door, swallowing the anxious lump in your throat, a hand grabs your wrist.

Wait.

Don't go.

You turn around to see Danny holding your wrist with almost urgency.

Don't go just yet. Please.

The begging hue in his voice grabbed you tight and reeled you in, you couldn't help but stay with him longer. You needed his presence more than anything now, anyway. You sit even closer to him this time, almost straddling him, and continue to talk more in depth about life.

closer....

closer....

fuck.

You're on his lap now. Straddling him. Nose to nose with Danny.

"when the FUCK did this happen??" you thought to yourself, it felt like you blacked out and the rest was a blur.

Your shirt is now half-buttoned and his hands are on your hips. Your face is a deep red, his face painted with a bright red blush. The "amnesia" of it all subsides as you dive into him feverishly kissing him. Waves crashing upon waves of fervent kissing and touching, it felt endless.

His hands unbutton the rest of your shirt, revealing your lacy blue bra, to which he undoes with one hand and discards to the side. His plush lips kiss down...

down...

down...

down...

They hit your collarbone with the softest kiss, eliciting a soft groan from your throat. He leaves blushing bruises on your collarbone as he moves down to the valley between your breast, giving attention to each on as he softly kisses and marks one, while fidgeting and pulling at the other. He switches, making sure both tits are marked to his satisfaction. He motions for you to stand up, as you do, you discard the rest of your clothes to the side of the room. He unbuttons his shirt, but leaves it

on, and undoes his belt and pulls his pants

down halfway, revealing his boxers and his toned chest. With one swift motion he pulls his cock out, giving it a few gentle strokes before motioning back for you to take a seat.

The way you sink down onto his cock is almost pornographic. His hands glide up from your ass to your hips, guiding them while he thrusts into you.

theres a fire burning inside your core with every thrust as he fucks you. Sweat beading on your forehead and dripping onto his chest.

that's it, baby. Take it just like that

Every praise made you immediately want to burst at the seams and come undone on top of him just like that. His praise was like heaven on earth.

He continues to buck his hips into you, slowly growing more sloppy as he's close to his own release as you are to your own. Your chests are both rising and falling together in heavy pants, both groaning and moaning from the friction.

F...fuck. Yeah right there.

You feel so fucking good on me

Keep going, i'm close..fuck

God, i'm gonna cum

His hips buck into you once more, your orgasms hitting you both like a freight train at the same time. A loud groan escapes Danny's throat when he cums, and it fills you up nicely and drips back onto his cock when he pulls it out. You're seeing white while riding out the high. You never thought you'd be fucking a man you had just met, let alone a librarian.

You weren't finished yet, to Danny's absolute shock you let yourself off of his lap, position yourself on the floor between his legs, and suck his cock absolutely clean, the flavors of both yourself and him colliding together. It was such a dirty acted and you loved it. Danny was absolutely engulfed in the moment, he probably would've came again down your throat, but before he could even put his hands in your hair, you release him from your mouth with a pop and smile as you get up.

You collect his clothes and your own off the floor to put them back on, then head back into the main library area. You picked up the books you discarded before and handed them to Danny for him to check them out.

He stamps the book and hands them back to you with a smile.

Come see me again sometime, will you?

Of course I will.

You smile and exit the library, finally heading home. You're comfy in your bed and crack open the book to read it, but the book wasn't stamped with the name or date.

It was Danny's phone number.

[quitealotofsodapop]

This was in my notes for a long time

MK glanced up at the ringing of the bell. The food truck was bustling, full of people all over the city looking to enjoy Pigsy's Noodles during their New Years while they await the parade. At the sight of the partially glamoured face of a ginger haired person with a heart-shaped birthmark around his eyes wearing an orange hoodie and maroon pants, he felt his face pale considerably. Especially as the very obviously glamoured demon was accompanied by four seemingly human children, having apparently put more effort into their glamours than his own. A quick flash of Gold Vision confirmed MK's suspicions. His mom and siblings.

"Oh boy..." He groaned, glaring at the snickering of one of the twins. They pointed at their headphones and stuck their tongue out before bringing their attention back to their sibling. Right, lotus ears. There's no verbally spoken secret within a mile that can be kept from the twins simply because one of then was born with their father's ears. Before MK could return the rude gesture he felt a hand shaking his shoulder, startling him.

"What's up, monkey man?" Mei was grinning, "You look like your mom jsut walked in on you or something!"

"That's because he did." MK groaned, pointing to the group, "He brought my siblings too."

"Oooh, tough. I'm totally gonna record the entire thing, it's bound to be good blackmail."

MK rolled his eyes as he pushed himself to the front where his mom was watching the whole interaction with amused golden eyes.

"Mom! What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Can't a fella come to his son's workplace on the holiday?" Wukong joked, instinctively reaching out to stop Luzhen from grabbing at Yuebei's hidden tail, "With the New Years I thought it'd be a good idea to bring your siblings down to the parade for a better view. We're jsut stopping by fir seem food before we go down to the festival."

"Well you came to the right place! What can I do ya for?" Pigsy grunted as not too gently pushed MK aside for some room. For a moment the glamoured monkey demon was frozen at the unexpected resemblance before shaking himself a bit,

"Oh, uh... something vegetarian please. Make sure mine is cooled."

"Cooled?" Pigsy raised a brow as he glanced at MK, a cooled bown the noodles is rarely something people want.

"Mom had an accident when he was younger that makes it difficult for him to eat hot foods." MK explained, writing the order down for his boss. The pig shrugged, muttering something about ice as he began the order. MK returned his focus to his family as they chatted, Wukong quite forcefully demanding a hug from him.

What MK didn't realize was the conversation going on behind him.

"So that's very obviously a glamoured demon." Tang was pointing out as they watched the family interact, "So our theory is looking more and more true."

"Yeah, kid's a demon. Or the least his mom is. Poor guy." Pigsy said in return, "Still that isn't a good glamour."

"I've seen glamours before." Sandy chimed in, "I don't think it's because he's bad at it, just look at his kids! He's probably jsut putting all his energy into keeping his kids' glamours up."

Ref.

Oh gosh poor MK getting mega-embarrassed by his mom and siblings XD

I love the detail of the Eclipse Twin with the lotus ears teasing MK before they even get there. No secret is safe from the twins; one hears all and they both share everything.

I love Wukong being so focused on his kids glamours that he barely has enough magic left over for his own. And ofc Luzhen trying to grab Yuebei's invisible tail - cus where did it go? XD

I love hcs of Wukong not enjoying hot food cus of his lore. Him like his noodles lukewarm at best.

And the noodle gang cofirming their suspicions that MK is def a glamoured demon (or at least half-demon). Imagine the shock they'll get when they learn exactly who MK's mom is! XD

[necrotic-nephilim]

For the ask game

What do think would happen in a brudick au where they go public by getting married

for the ask game!

public reactions to BruDick my beloved. i've done a couple of concept similar to this for the ask game but i will do a thousand more just because i think they're fun.

i think all of it hinges on *when* Bruce and Dick publically get married. and because they're both smart about it, they wouldn't rush it. even if their relationship has been going on since they were a teenager, there's a lot of angles to consider. not just how the League will react, but how Gotham will react. this is Bruce Wayne publically marrying his ward and that's a massive scandal. they would hold off as long as they possibly could, likely until Dick is in his mid-twenties. i think they would spin it as something they're not exactly hiding, but not super public about either. Bruce didn't turn the wedding into a press parade (Dick would've killed him if he tried) but he doesn't hide the wedding band and he's quite public with affection toward Dick, in a very "i dear you to say something" way. and the reaction is. baffled, at first. because how *do* you say something? this is *Bruce Wayne*. he has the cleanest image possible. sure, the League expected it, they've seen the uglier side of Bruce, but the public? no one knows how to report on the story because Bruce is a philanthropist. he's charming and beloved.

there are a lot of questions at first. and it doesn't help that Bruce "will tell anyone about his sexual escapades" Wayne is now suddenly shy about sharing his relationship details. he says Dick prefers the privacy and leaves it at that, always pivoting when he's asked to bring up something else, like one his charity programs. it's a very calculated move, and sharper reporters like Vicki Vale are noticing how Bruce always changes the topic to bring up his charity work, painting himself in a good light. so she focuses on trying to talk to Dick. cornering him when he's trying to work, pushing all these questions about things like grooming and Dick's status as Bruce's ward. i think Dick would be far less kind to the press just because he has less patience (and less of a reputation to maintain, if anything he's a bit amused by this whole thing affecting Bruce's rep as much as it is) so his rude responses are fuel to the fiire. long think pieces are posted about about grooming, and then in support of Bruce's marriage, long thing pieces are written about the history of adult adoption in gay spaces. it's all very messy and drawn out and Bruce's reputation certainly takes the hit. i'd love to see this happen specifically around Tim's Robin era and it affecting Jack Drake's trust in Bruce, in allowing his son around Bruce. if Bruce could groom his own ward, who's to say he won't do it to Jack. i'd love to see Jack updating his will that Bruce Wayne isn't allowed to adopt his son, should something happen to him and that affecting Tim after Bruce dies.

i also love the thought of this whole thing causing Bruce to be approved by the "wrong" crowd. there are other celebrities and famous people who take part in questionable activities that border on illegal and trafficking, and now, those people would see Bruce as one of their own. they embrace Bruce socially, and i think it'd be the repercussion Bruce would despise the most. if good people see him as a creep, he'll live with it. but other creeps thinking he's the same as them is a step too far. but, he can spin that to his advantage. he testifies against them, recording conversations of admitting to crimes instead of going after them as Batman. because it helps clean up the image of Bruce Wayne if Bruce is the one taking down rich pedophiles. but it still raises suspicion that Bruce is doing this just for that reason- to look better. he's alienated from most of his Brucie Wayne social circles- even Oliver, who used to be willing to play nice with him in front of the cameras has *no* interest in associating with Bruce after this. the League is. tolerating the marriage and accepting that Dick is an adult they can't tell what to do (even though many of them have pulled him aside to ask if he's okay and gotten brushed off) but that doesn't mean they have to be nice about it. it causes small tanks in Bruce's reputation, even affecting his company enough that he momentarily steps down from CEO, probably giving the position to Lucius for the time being, just to redeem himself.

anytime Bruce takes in a new ward, it's questioned by the public. Cass, Duke, even Damian raises eyebrows as everyone's wondering the unspoken question, if Bruce is going to get with *this* one too. but as the years go on, Bruce remains perfectly loyal to Dick. and Dick seems content as an equal partner to Bruce. if anything, Bruce's loyalty to Dick helps rebuild his reputation more than anything. everyone expects him to ditch Dick for the newest young ward, but he doesn't. which seems to prove that Bruce and Dick were telling the truth about their relationship just happening out of the blue. some people are diehard defending Bruce, pointing out how long Dick lived in Bludhaven before Bruce and Dick got married and if Bruce was grooming Dick, why would he have let that happen, and so on. Dick's autonomy is heavily questioned in all of this, no matter what Dick insists. i think Dick would start posting romantic pictures on his social media just to be spiteful, no matter how much it gives Bruce a heart attack. he dares people to say to his face what they'll say online, making galas particularly tense and interesting, because while Bruce is trying to damage control, Dick is staring down anyone attempting to imply things by making them admit it directly. it forces most of the gossiping to settle down, just because how Dick refuses to beat around the bush. i love the idea of Bruce having a publicist who is Perpetually Stressed Out by Dick's shit.

eventually, everyone accepts it. Bruce still doesn't get back into the social circles he's been exiled from and some creeps try to rub elbows with him, but the hype around it dies down. it becomes one of those things talked about on social media, like a "top ten things you didn't know about Bruce Wayne", with number one being that Bruce married his ward. i think Bruce and Dick would work hard to scrub the internet of proof that Dick was Bruce's ward in the first place. since Dick was never adopted, they just delete a lot of pictures, get articles taken down, and largely let the public forget the idea it happened. they can't completely scrub it, but there's definitely an effort put forth to remove it from recent memory and make it something you'd have to dig to find out about. Dick Grayson is just seen as Bruce Wayne's questionably young husband who helps in take care of all the kids he takes in. they get more affectionate in public because of it, as Bruce gets bolder kissing Dick at galas, always having an arm around him, bringing him to meetings. Dick becomes Bruce's arm candy and well, Dick is a pretty man, so can anyone blame Bruce? they're a photogenic couple and Bruce likes to highlight that. he likes to make people stare, now that the whispers of morality have died down. it's proof that Bruce had his cake and is eating it too, getting to publically marry Dick and still be loved at the end of the day, even if it took a couple rough years to get there.

[gyllenhaalstories]

WHAT GOES AROUND COMES AROUND — BARBARA & RUSTY SABICH

summary: with the help of a sweet neighbour, barbara takes a leap of faith. it is time for her to stop enduring and to start indulging instead, because... when she wakes up next to him in the middle of the night, with her head in her hands, she's nothing more than his wife.

warnings: presumed innocent spoilers, food & alcohol, cheating, implied age gap, fluff, angst & smut (teasing, masturbation, voyeurism & exhibitionism, mild mommy kink, praise kink, finger sucking, dry humping). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4575

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: READ PART 2 HERE. barbara is finally getting what she deserves!!! thank you @sizzlingcloudmentality for encouraging me to write this. the timeline of this fic is a little strange, just don't think about it too much. the fact that i wrote all of this before episode 3 and they just served me the plot of this fic on a silver platter after i was done. wow. well it's good to know i guessed some things right! thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The doorbell rang. The noise was so loud that it startled Barbara.

You had been nervous all day. Good nervous, for the most part. While your hands were busy baking, your mind travelled elsewhere. In a place where butterflies roamed free in your stomach. You glued your prettiest smile to your face when the door opened before your eyes.

"Hello?" Barbara's eyes wandered from your eyes to what you presented her. A present, wrapped in a kitchen towel. She caught a waft of the delicious aroma, she mirrored your smile. "May I help you with something?"

"No, I mean, yeah, I mean..." You cleared your throat. Oh, she had the prettiest voice you had ever heard. "I live next door... I thought I'd stop by and say hello."

B's head tilted to the side, she squinted.

"This is a pie, I baked it. For you." The words lingered one moment too long, the older woman raised a curious brow at you. You shook your head and rectified yourself. "For your family. You must be going through a really hard time right now... I thought it would help."

She grabbed the enveloppe that was placed on top of the baked good. She opened it and pulled out a card. "Get well soon?" She read, incredulous.

"Yeah, they didn't have a card at the store that said It sucks that everyone in town is talking about what's happening with your husband." You shrugged. To your surprise, Barbara laughed. "I figured this was the closest I could get."

"The pie smells delicious. I'm sure it will help me... Get well soon." You both spoke the last three words together. "I don't think we've met before. What's your name, sweetheart?"

You introduced yourself, she did the same although it was unnecessary. The Sabich's names were on everybody's lips for all the wrong reasons.

"Let me help you with this. Is it strawberry?" You nodded when she took the plate of pie off your hands. She took a moment to smell it.

"Strawberry rhubarb pie. I thought I'd do something special."

"Is this a special occasion?" Barbara smirked and disappeared into her house. She turned around, swallowed by the darkness of the hallway, when she did not hear your footsteps behind her. "You're being a good neighbour. The least I can do is share a slice with you."

You scrambled your way through empty excuses. The more you struggled, the more she found it endearing.

"Come on in. It'd be rude not to share." She spoke the next sentence, almost in a commanding tone. "You don't have to be shy."

You took a deep breath and you stepped inside the house. It was lovely, a lovely home. You closed the door behind you and tried not to let your eyes wander around too much. Now that would be rude.

The sound of plates and utensils guided you to the heart of the home. Barbara reached up on the tip of her toes to grab a plate. A fancy one, at that. "A special plate for a special pie." She explained, sensing your confusion from across the room.

To be fair, you were not paying much attention to the dishes. Your eyes were glued to the beautiful green shirt that hugged her figure. "Uh, yeah. Of course!"

One plate. One slice. Two forks. She placed the dessert on the counter, inviting you to come closer if you wanted a taste.

And you did. Your fingers brushed against hers when you reached for the fork. You let her take the first bite and your heart skipped a beat at her expression.

Her eyes rolled, she immediately went in for a second bite. "This is delicious! What took you so long to cook for me?" Another teasing smirk followed her words.

"I don't know... It took me a long time to unpack." You took a small bite.

"Right, you moved in not too long ago." She nodded slowly, feigning nonchalance.

"Your children were so nice, they offered to help. I'd still be carrying boxes in the house if they did not step in."

Barbara's smile beamed with pride, she loved her children so much. "My husband," the word carried more tartness in her mouth than the rhubarb in the pie. "helped too."

"Oh, totally! He helped a lot." You shoved a bite of pie in your mouth to stop you from saying something you could regret. You could not remember whether he even lifted a finger or not.

"My kids have always been like that, just happy to help. Don't be shy if you need extra pairs of hands." Again with the shy comment, she poked your timidity with a stick. "They're with a family member right now. It was getting too much for them. I hate to bring them into this."

You nodded slowly and your eyes fell down on the plate. There was only one piece of dessert left.

Barbara pushed the plate in your direction, but you tried to do the same thing. It resulted in your hands touching again. Accidentally.

You could swear that you felt sparks fly between you. Or maybe it was static electricity. The look on Barbara's face made you believe it was the former.

She chuckled and finished the plate. She admired the remaining pie, how the red syrup of the fruits leaked in the emptiness left by the missing slice. She dipped a finger in the liquid and brought it to her lips to suck clean. "Do you mind if I keep the rest to myself?"

What happened to being rude for not sharing?

*~*~*

You pushed the curtain to the side, just enough to glance outside. Your bedroom window faced directly to the neighbours'. You were surprised to see light shine from their window at this hour. It seemed unusual.

Barbara had the house all to herself for most of the time. The kids were at school, Rusty was at work. She liked to keep to her routine, but sometimes she also liked to get away from the ordinary. It could be a quiet smoking session in the backyard or, like today, a long candlelit bath.

You tilted your head and glanced at a silhouette passing by. It took a few blinks for you to register what you had just witnessed. You moved out of the way, in the fear of getting caught.

Barbara noticed a shadow from the opposite window. She shrugged it off and pulled her hair out of the short ponytail, disregarding of the towel that was wrapped around her body. She ruffled her dark locks and propped a leg up on the edge of the bed. Then, she squirted a few pumps of lotion in her hands before lathering her skin with it.

You decided to take a peek again and your eyes widened at the sight.

Slowly, Barbara applied lotion all over her body and rubbed her hands together to finish it off. A strange shadow cast over the upholstered headboard. She turned her head to the window again and caught the curtains flowing in the wind which was caused by you running away from your hiding spot for the last time that day.

It happened again. In fact, this dragged over a couple of weeks.

Barbara started to take baths at the same time, every day. Repeating the same steps of dropping her towel and lathering her body in a shimmery lotion.

Your schedules started to sync up (on purpose). You woke up just in time to watch her. You were still convinced that she had not seen you, that she was unaware of your shenanigan. It fuelled your curiosity. The more it happened, the less careful you were getting. You enjoyed the view, paying less and less attention to the voice of reason at the back of your head that told you it was wrong. Just so wrong.

B faced a similar struggle. What started as accidental quickly became intentional. She liked to go a step further every time, trying to distract you just long enough so you let her admire your reactions from afar. She was trying hard, she was dedicated to keep you staring for as long as you could handle it, but she selfishly revelled in the feeling of being admired. No, better yet: desired. The attention felt so good. She had not experienced anything like this in years.

Even though you stood there by your window day after day, with your jaw dropped and your eyes darkening with ever growing lust, you did not do much to fuel Barbara's newfound hobby. You gave her enough yet not enough at all.

She was left wanting more. She was left thinking more, as well. Was it what Rusty liked so much, this game of cat and mouse? Was it what drew him towards another woman? Did he experience so much turmoil too, caught between giving in and resisting? After countless conversations with their therapist, B concluded that she would never even try to understand her husband's actions. Maybe... She could revisit her categorical opinion on this. Maybe she could try to understand him for her own benefit.

Things evolved rather quickly. You would catch the older woman putting on lingerie with a mirror angled towards your windows so she could watch that tiny reflection of you cover your mouth when you gasped.

You would also catch her doing the most boring tasks completely naked. Barbara made the bed without a piece of clothing in sight. She would fold laundry on the bed too, again, while wearing nothing.

However, there was always something that ruined this perfect fantasy. Or more so, someone. Her husband. They would have long and serious conversations at night. Almost every night. You could not hear them, but you still figured out they were fighting. It would end with the man leaving bed and walking out of the room. Almost every time. On rare occasions, they would kiss each other good night. You thought he was the luckiest man alive. He got to do what you dreamed of night after night.

After numerous overthinking sessions, Barbara judged it was harmless to let you watch. You were not even touching, not even talking. Just... looking. This could become a valid deal breaker, in a normal marriage. Rusty had ripped the concept of normalcy out of her hands the day he decided to cheat on her. It was harmless to feed into your voyeuristic fantasy. She knew you were getting off on it, she had seen you with your hand in your panties, but knowing there was someone out there who desired her so explicitly felt more gratifying than anything.

You were a stranger who thought she was beautiful and sexy. It was an exciting exchange: she enjoyed putting on a show for you and you enjoyed the show she was giving you almost on a daily basis. Barbara did not know that she occupied your thoughts, day and night.

All she knew was that she wanted to feel your hands on all the places she touched herself while thinking about this thrilling adventure with her neighbour.

*~*~*

"Do you like it around here?" Barbara snapped you out of your reverie.

"Sure, it's a nice house." Your eyes wandered around the kitchen, pretending to appreciate the decor. Pretending not think about Barbara sitting on one of these counters.

She chuckled at your response. "I meant the neighbourhood." She stood in front of the sink to run her hands under water, washing away the sticky syrup. Her wedding ring sparkled under the water. "But it's good to know you like it here."

You laughed nervously.

"Let me give you a tour, I've got a few art pieces on the walls, but no one new to show them to." Barbara walked past you, her pinky finger brushed against the skin of your hand as she exited the kitchen.

Goosebumps immediately started to spread all over your body at this innocent touch. You followed her closely behind. Everywhere you looked, there were family portraits framed on the wall. You watched her children grow up through various photographs, it was heartwarming. Your heart grew cold when your eyes met with the pictures of the man who sent this gorgeous woman to bed sad and bitter every night. You would treat her so much better.

B instructed you to look at a painting on the wall while she told you all about this local artist who was very secretive about their creations.

You could not comprehend a single thing about the painting in front of you, for all you knew, it looked like something a child could have scribbled while bored out of its mind during a rainy afternoon. Ah, abstract art. You shrugged.

Barbara told you an anecdote behind the purchase of the large piece on the living room wall, a gradient of colours that was supposed to inspire a series of renovations in the house. Rusty was too busy to attend meetings with the contractors, they never renovated anything in the end.

The couch looked spacious and comfortable.

Barbara guided you upstairs. More family photos, more paintings. A lot of clutter piled here and there on the second floor, it did not look too intentional. It looked more like a tornado had blown everything down on the floor. You did not ask further questions.

You froze in place when you walked in front of the last room, the master bedroom. Your heart started to race when you recognized the duvet, the headboard, the mirror that stood at an odd angle... You blinked away the flashbacks of what you witnessed from your window.

"You already know this room, don't you?"

Before you could mumble a reply, an excuse, Barbara was headed downstairs with a smirk on her face.

You followed her. On your way down, you held the stair railing so tight that your knuckles turned white.

The timing seemed too good to be true. The front door opened to the sound of an unenthusiastic "Honey, I'm home".

Out of habit, Barbara kissed her husband's clean shaven cheek. The kiss lacked just about as much enthusiasm as the man's greeting.

You suddenly felt out of place. You started to question if this was a good idea. Of course it was not. You brought a pie to your married neighbour who had been showing up in each and every wet dream you had for weeks. You felt like the most horrible person in the world. You stared at the tall man in front of you who had wet hair and marks on the sides of his face left by his swim goggles... Okay, maybe you were the second most horrible person. Barbara's beautiful voice brought you back in the moment once again, as she introduced you to Rusty.

The man furrowed his brows for a quick second, confused about your presence in his house.

"She's our next door neighbour. You know, the one who moved in recently? She told me how thankful she was for your help that day."

Rusty and you shared the same confused expression. You both switched it for something else, you glued on a fake smile and agreed to everything Barbara said.

Rusty, instead, shrugged. He had no recollection of helping you. To him, you were just one more forgettable face. He was used to seeing tons of those through his work, and other activities.

Barbara swallowed thickly. You had been so easy to talk to, but the dynamic changed for the worse now that Rusty was in the room with you.

You came to her rescue. "I'm so sorry... I better get going! I have plans tonight." Barbara's head turned rapidly towards you, a supportive grin on her beautiful lips. "Thank you for having me, Ms Sabich." You hurried towards the door that Rusty opened for you. "Mister Sabich." You nodded at him, avoiding to look him in the eyes again. You took a step outside.

Rusty smiled faintly at the sudden formality. He had the vague impression that he disturbed something, but, with another nonchalant shrug, he did not give any more time or importance to that feeling.

"What a sweet girl." Barbara praised you, speaking loudly on purpose. She wanted you to hear. "We just happened to talk about art so I showed her some of the pieces we got. This was her favourite." She pointed at the abstract painting that you saw at the beginning.

You speed-walked down the driveway and across the grass. You glanced quickly at the large window that looked into the living room. Your eyes locked with Barbara's for a split second before you fell out of hew view. Like the first time she caught you drinking her in through your bedroom window.

Rusty closed the door and his eyes followed where Barbara pointed. "That?" He squinted, as if it would help him see better. It could not have been more different from a professional work of art in the sense Barbara had described it earlier with you. "Didn't Kyle make this in kindergarten?"

What happened to feeling bad for lying?

*~*~*

The week following your proper introduction to the Sabiches was filled with a series of very fortunate events.

Conveniently checking the mail box at the same time as Barbara to spark some small talk speckled with flirtatious comments. Excitedly running to your favourite window to catch a glimpse of her while she got ready before disappearing into the en suite bathroom. Shyly smiling at Barbara while she stood in her towel, presenting two options of lingerie for you to choose.

You assumed she was headed out with her husband, all dressed up for him. Your lip curled up with disdain at the thought of Rusty being ungrateful for the time and effort his wife put into looking pretty for him only to be ignored.

The doorbell rang. The noise was so loud that it started Barbara who could hear it from outside.

You opened the door to find the most beautiful woman you had ever laid eyes on standing before you.

She squeezed the brown paper bag tightly against her chest. You did not even notice it at first, your eyes immediately fell on her shoulder. The collar of her shirt was misplaced and exposed her bra strap. She wore the lingerie you chose. She wore it for you. "I'm returning the favour." Barbara smiled warmly at you and entered your home as soon as you stepped out of the way.

You both talked about everything and nothing while having lunch together. It amazed you how she made you feel so comfortable, so at ease. The conversation flowed nicely.

Barbara learned quickly that the more she praised you, the more relaxed you were getting in her presence. She made sure to add endearing nicknames every now and then. She called you her beautiful darling and her sweet girl enough times to make you forget your actual name.

You had barely dipped your lips in the glass of wine, expensive wine, that Barbara poured for you. You did not need the alcohol to relax, Barbara worked her magic.

B, however, needed it. She needed the burst of confidence it provided to test her own limits, to see how far she was willing to go to chase a bit of the happiness Rusty had depraved her of ever since the beginning of his affair. She downed the last sip of her glass, poured a second one immediately after. She left it untouched, she kept it as a lifeline. An emergency supply of courage and audacity in case she ran out of both. "Come here."

You had been standing in your kitchen the entire time. It was like the tables had turned from last time when you visited Barbara. You switched places. You obliged and sat on the chair next to her. Your finger traced the rim of the glass, trying to distract you from your increasing nervousness.

"How do you feel about what we're doing?" The question, while vague, packed a punch. It had never been directly addressed before.

Your finger froze, immobile, when she placed her hand on your arm. Her touch was soft, warm. Inviting. "You have a lot more at risk than I do and I feel bad about it." She had a marriage, a beautiful family... And you had this wild fantasy about your attractive neighbour.

Your honesty appeased her. She stroked your arm gently, encouraging you to speak your mind if you wanted to.

You did. You told her how you felt bad at the thought of getting caught, she reassured you that you both had been very careful to have fun when she was alone. You were being reckless in a careful way, an antithesis that somehow made sense. Nobody else knew about it, nobody else suspected it. "I feel bad about all of that. But I don't feel bad about the way it makes me feel."

"Go on." She raised a brow at you. "How do I make you feel, sweetheart?"

You searched through your brain for respectful words to assemble into a sentence that would communicate just how much you loved to admire her, to desire her...

"Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel." B held your hand in hers, her thumb soothed your skin. She tilted her head, insisting that you looked at her while you spoke.

You threw your bullshit respectful words out the window. Barbara's gaze was as intoxicating as the wine she drank. "You're always on my mind. I can't stop thinking about you. I want to touch you, I want to kiss you, I want to..." You leaned in closer, murmuring at her ear how you wanted to eat her out until she could not take it anymore. How you wanted her to collapse under the feeling of your tongue. How you wanted to lift her up and to sit her on every surface of the house just to worship her while she moaned your name out loud.

The switch of dynamic left her breathless. She pulled away, leaning her elbow on the dining table while she admired your face in search of a sign that you were lying to her. Lies. Lies ruined lives. It ruined her life.

You held her gaze, giving her time to process. She had been so sweet to you, the least you could do is return the favour. Barbara licked her lips, her teeth sinking on the bottom one. "I want to do the things your husband doesn't do."

Her self-control shattered like the wine glass she accidentally pushed off the table when she stood up and leaned over the furniture to crash her lips against yours. This was the most passion Barbara had experienced in years. Perhaps decades. She submerged her entire being into the feeling.

You reciprocated the intensity of the kiss until you broke away to catch a breath. You stood up, stood in front of her. She held your face in her hands, lovingly, and waited for you to speak again. "I want to do whatever you tell me to."

The two of you nodded, a silent acknowledgement that you were crossing the point of no return. Together.

The week was filled with stolen moments and forbidden touches. You explored each other's limits, not without being in awe at how easy it was to push all of those boundaries. More lustful kisses. More lingering hands on thighs and hips. More fingers tracing curves. More. There was always more, more, more.

A week ago, Barbara did not even know your name. Now, she was moaning it out loud while your hand rubbed her over her panties, sitting on the couch of her living room.

A week ago, all you knew about this woman was her name. Now, she had you calling her Mommy when you could not wait any longer and needed to feel her lips on your neck to mark you with pale hickeys only the two of you knew about.

Her fingers explored your mouth while you sucked and moaned around her digits.

Your tongue explored her mouth while she panted for air, overwhelmed by the dizzying desire between the two of you. The tension rose high and fast. Yes, this was about all-consuming passion. Rusty would relate. But it was also about liberation. Rusty could never imagine what it felt like to be trapped the way he trapped her with his lies.

Rusty would be lying if he said he did not grow suspicious. Something just felt off. Small details. Small details that painted a bigger picture, a painting that left him confused. Barbara cooked dinner, always saving a plate in the fridge for leftovers. Barbara cleaned often, always focusing on tidying up the couch with the messy blankets and pillows. She looked different. She looked light as a feather, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders meanwhile Rusty was crushing under the burdens of his shameful past.

Evidences piled up before his eyes, some pieces of proof stuck out more than the others. There was one example in particular. He could not stop thinking about what he found in the laundry room while he searched for a specific piece of clothing he needed to discard of for reasons. He found several mesh bags containing bras, panties and thongs he had never even seen before. More lingerie was hung to dry on a rack. Delicate fabrics, luxurious colours... He stood there, admiring the lacy patterns of a deep purple bra unlike anything Barbara had ever worn around him. It reminded him of the multiple charges to his credit card, recently. The first two dots connected.

His stomach dropped when he received a text from his wife, parked in Raymond's driveway. His phone had been buzzing relentlessly for the past few seconds. Rusty's heart raced in his chest. He opened the messages right away, without providing an answer. Barbara was left on read for several moments. He waited for the typing bubbles to appear, to explain what he had just seen. A picture, multiple in fact, of his wife wearing that unknown purple bra he laid his eyes on for the first time in the laundry room. Matching barely opaque panties. Panties pushed to the side, hand covering the rest. Wet fingers brushing over her dark, hard nipples. Smeared lipstick over the lips that sucked those same fingers. Rusty fell back against the car seat. He was submerged with confusion. He blinked over and over again, as if these photos would disappear. Maybe he made it up. Maybe he was beginning to be tormented by the guilt Raymond kept talking about. No. No, the pictures were real. This was unlike anything Barbara had ever done before. The pictures were very much so real. A quick message followed the nudes: "Sorry. I didn't mean to send that to you XO".

The evidence board reached its completion when, on the very same day he received the lewd photos from his wife, he drove on your street and saw something he was certain he hallucinated. Rusty slowed down until the car no longer moved. He rolled down the window, removed his glasses for a second to rub his eyes before putting them on again. While letting out a pained sigh, he processed the sight before him. Barbara was kissing you.

What goes around comes around, right?

[moreespressoformydepresso]

For some reason I started imagining a scenario where the tributes and the mentors somehow get trapped together in the arena (without the peacekeepers being there don't ask me how I haven't figured it out) at first the mentors are freaking out meanwhile the tributes are just sitting there being like: we are dead anyway and each group is staying on one side of the arena and don't want to cross the other side however when supplies are sent for the mentors empathize on only the mentors the nicer ones are willing to share with their tribute while the less good ones are complaining and screaming nonstop until the tributes have enough of the screaming and tell them to shut up Bec they are the ones who the capitol is trying to save and send supplies for and the ones who well get to live while if they get out of the arena while they will come back home in boxes and will never get the chance to grow up except one and the tributes who are frustrated with their mentors varbully smack them down until the bad mentors finally shut up and slowly they go from insulting the tributes to trying to have a somewhat casual conversation although with little success idk I am writing this while half asleep so sorry if it's all random and there are dozen of plot holes and I haven't decided if the reason they are all trapped in the arena is Bec of the bombing and where the peacekeepers would be as I am not considering them so sorry if this is all random but it's a scenario that I thought would be somewhat amusing

That's a fantastic setup for a fix-it!! Because the best way to convince people to part with their prejudiced, bigoted beliefs is to let them interact with the people they hate. It forces them to see the humanity in those they've convinced themselves are lesser beings. It's what most of my full fix-it AU's are focused on: forcing the mentors to see what they refuse to accept. The tributes just don't have the power or influence to stop the games, but the mentors do. They have the freedom to actually do something. It's just that they don't, because they only care about their own tribute and are raised to believe in the system. The games are a part of the system. Working within the system means trying to make their own tribute the victor, and it's that mentality that gets all of the tributes except Lucy Gray killed.

The bombing's the only time the tributes and mentors both go into the arena at the same time, so it'd have to happen then if we wanna stick as close to canon as possible. Ain't no way the Capitol's gonna let their precious children be alone in a large space with district people so there would be peacekeepers either way. The best way to handle this is to kill most or all of those peacekeepers via rubble. The first bomb goes off in the entrance rather than near it, effectively collapsing it shut, and the second goes off lower down in the stands. Only the walls to the bottom of the stands collapse, the ceiling stays intact. Possibly a third bomb goes off to create a gap in the ceiling that's too high for anyone to reach.

Maybe Treech and Lamina are sent by the mentors to climb the pile and find a way out? Because the mentors view themselves as smarter and more superior so they try to take the lead and be in control. They wanna send Wovey too but the 22 glares (bc Dill wouldn't glare) burning into their very souls put that idea to rest very quickly. But Lamina and Treech can't make an exit without moving stones which would risk bringing the whole building down on everyone. The mentors refuse to accept "no" until Reaper and Marcus have enough of their shit and threaten them to accept the answer or face the consequences. Sejanus, throughout all of this, is an absolute angel trying to stop his mentors from being jerks. It's not effective, but he's trying, and he only admonishes the mentors that try to threaten back. Not Reaper or Marcus, because of course not. They're well within their rights to be rude to the Capitol kids. So, they're stuck and retreat to their corners because of the mentors.

I think the tributes would want to be with each other while stuck in the arena, but their mentors would stop them because competition and "those other tributes are vile and dangerous district scum and you're different so I can't be around those beasts!" Maybe that's actually the snapping point for one of them? It would show some more selfless characteristics which would make it harder for the mentors to ignore. This kid didn't stand up for themself but for people who they met days ago that'll have to die soon. It's very echo-y in the arena so even spoken words can be heard by everyone. Perhaps, while the tributes like Facet and Panlo are screaming at their horrible mentors for being trash, they reveal some of the horrible living conditions in the districts? Like one of them will go "and not even when we're in the Capitol can we escape you worthless, slimy douchebags depriving us of our basic needs! Not even when you need us fed will you bother inconveniencing yourself in the slightest to be less than the bare minimum requirements for a basic human being!!!!" and it kind of shocks the mentors out of their delusion because the tributes haven't ever been so openly hostile before.

Maybe, if they rant a little further, the other mentors turn to their own tributes and ask if things are really that bad. The answer? "Ha! No. Absolutely not don't worry :). It's worse :D" When Facet straight up tells Livia he hates her and everything about her, and Brandy declares she wishes she'd gone through with slitting Arachne's throat rather than showing mercy, they start to realize just how much the tributes loathe them. It's awkwardly silent for a few minutes when Gaius tries to lighten the mood with one of his "jokes". The mentors laugh. The tributes scowl. Panlo says nothing, merely looks Gaius in the eyes for a few seconds. Then he spits in his face and decks him hard enough to break his nose. Standing up, he goes to sit with Sheaf. The glare he gives when Gaius speaks up indignantly and tries to follow shut him up immediately as he sits down. Something about the previous conversation about not feeding the tributes sits with Vipsania and she turns to Treech. "When I said you should perform for food, I-"

"I know about the prize, Vipsania. It's fine, you don't have to lie." Marcus and Sejanus have spent this quality time to bond and become actual friends (because Sejanus is very funny when he subtly roasts his classmates and Marcus can appreciate that the guy's trying to help them at least) so when Sejanus tries to apologize Marcus merely gives him a hug and assures him that he didn't do anything wrong. Coriolanus' belief in Gaul's theory is destroyed because they're all effectively cornered and this is the most human he's ever seen the tributes act (because he can't not pay attention this time). No one's dead, and even the already starving tributes who were initially denied food haven't done anything drastic or caused any actual harm. Huh... Maybe he should listen to Tigris a little more, she's always been there for him after all. He knows she has the best intentions, whereas Gaul... He's starting to have his doubts about her.

Pup asks Lamina whether she thinks he's been a good mentor, and her answer is along the lines of "Yeah, and you've been a good friend to me." She glances at Treech, and he remembers all the things he so desperately tried to diminish and write off. The way they were always near one another, them sharing all their food (his earned through performance, hers given by Pup), the way they constantly looked over at one another to make sure they were still okay and their obvious concern. They cared about each other, and he was fine with taking someone so clearly important to Lamina away from her because actually questioning the system would've made him uncomfortable. His comfort had been more important to him than her happiness, her mental stability, and possibly her life. Vipsania turns back to Treech. "Do you hate me?" It catches everyone's attention, and he stares at her with an unreadable look on his face before hesitantly saying: "You could've been much worse..." While she knows she'll regret it, she repeats herself. "But do you hate me?" For a few agonizing seconds, you could hear a pin drop while everyone waits for his next words. They don't come. Instead, he merely looks away from her, curling in on himself. It's answer enough.

All the other tributes look away as well, and that's when it finally actually hits the mentors. Even the tributes with nicer mentors hate them. It's Lucy Gray who explains it. Some of them like their mentors just fine, but due to the circumstances... There's a part of them that can't help but feel resentful towards the Capitol kids. Their privileged lives, their frivolous worries like school projects that somehow take precedent over children who rely on them to survive, the everything about their circumstances and everyone's role in it. The system that caused the suffering and future death of the tributes is the same system that benefits the mentors. And no matter how much said mentors show they care, it clearly wasn't enough to make them even question this unfair world. Silence and inaction can speak much louder than any word or action ever could sometimes. This is one of those times.

I have so many more ideas but I'll cut it off now. Do you want to write this? If not, I'd be interested :) (with credit given ofc). I do have two running stories and 3 things I plan to start writing, but I'd give this precedence over at least 2 of those lmao. But it is your idea so...