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leviackermanscleaningbuddy · 1 year

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SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.

Or the sixteenth installment of the SKZ!Pack Prequel Series.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, ot8, SKZ drabble, SKZ!pack, SKZ!abo, poly!skz, omegaverse, pack!prequel, skz!pack prequel, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, y/n, skz x you, skz x reader, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios

Genre: Fluff, Non-explicit Smut

Warnings: Mentions of Unprotected Sex, as a treat (Wrap it before you Tap it, kids)

Title: Bet on You

“And you have no idea what he has planned.”

You shake your head and huff out a sigh, studying the patterns on the dorm’s old popcorn ceilings.

“No idea. And I hate surprises.”

“We know.” Hyunjin remarks wryly from his spot beside Felix on the couch, chin on the other omega’s shoulder.

You raise your head just enough to shoot him a glare and then let it flop back down to the floor once more with a groan.

“God, I never should have agreed to this.”

“What, going on a date?” Seungmin asks plainly, not bothering to look up from his book, as he flips to a new page. “I think it’ll be good for you.”

“You would say that.” You retort sharply and then with a pointed glower in the beta’s direction, “Traitor.”

“Maybe he won’t even show.” Jisung pipes up distractedly, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he tries to beat a level on whatever game he’s currently playing, eyes trained on the switch in his hands.

“Why do you say that?” Felix asks curiously, playing with Hyunjin’s fingers in his lap.

“Dammit.” Jisung mutters under his breath, before letting the handheld game fall onto his lap, his eyes focusing on you as he raises his head slightly from its position atop your shins.

He looks suddenly sheepish.

“Um, well, I might have scared him off. Because I maybe asked him if he’d fuck me in the studio sometime? It’s been like a lifelong fantasy of mine, you know?”

Changbin chokes on his water, coughing violently, and Minho thwacks him none too gently on the back in response.

Hyunjin is cackling.

Changbin gets enough of his breath back to gasp out incredulously, eyes bugging out of his head, “Why wouldn’t you ask me that?!”

Jisung shrugs, already focused back on the new level of his game.

“I didn’t know you’d be into it.” He glances up now, smirk on his lips, as he stares at the astounded alpha. “Would you fuck me in the studio, hyung?”

Changbin splutters.

“Yeah, of course I would, if you had asked!”

“Oh. Hm.”

“Oh god.” You groan and cover your face with your hands. “This date is going to be a disaster.”

“Take heart, noona.” Hyunjin reaches down to pat your head in a patronizingly sweet manner, and you swat blindly at his hands. You can hear the grin in his voice. “Jisung did you a favor.”

“Yeah!” Jisung pumps a fist and starts upward, voice triumphant, until he glances up in confusion and sinks back down to his spot against your legs. “Wait. What did I do?”

Hyunjin grins like the cat who’s just had the canary.

“ Now nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to appear more daunting for Chan-hyung than meeting Han Jisung.”

********

“I really, really don’t like surprises.” You repeat dolefully for what feels like the fifth time in as many minutes, and Chan shoots you a look that’s equal parts exasperation, equal parts fond amusement.

The latter has your heart doing a weird little skip in your chest.

“So you’ve said. But I swear to God-” He avoids a puddle in the middle of the sidewalk, and comes back to your side with a slight grimace and a look upward at the dripping trees overhead. “-it’s nothing crazy.”

“Damn.” You reply sarcastically, tone teasing, as you watch your footing, careful not to step in the mud that lines the path. “And here I was hoping that you’d rented me a yacht and a Michelin starred chef for the evening.”

Chan chuckles, and you hide your grin behind your teeth.

“I mean-” He holds his hands out and gives you a sidelong glance. “-I’ve been told I can cook a mean pot of ramen.”

“Oh yeah?” You snort and eye him disbelievingly. “Who told you that? Changbin?”

Chan hesitates as you both step around another pool of rainwater. “Maybe.”

You scoff. “Please. Seo Changbin will eat anything. That man would eat my cooking and rave about it for a week, and that’s saying something.”

Chan laughs again, and you try to ignore the fact that you really like hearing it-his laugh. It’s nice.

He cocks his head and gives you the start of a smile, biting on his bottom lip as his dimples start to hollow out his cheeks.

“What, it’s that bad?”

You snort beneath your breath again and this time, you let yourself grin, even as you roll your eyes.

“Well, it’s not good, that’s for sure.”

Chan huffs a laugh beneath his breath and digs his hands into the pockets of his coat as you round the corner and stop abruptly at the back of one of the buildings downtown.

You’re not sure which building it is, not from the back, but you squint suspiciously at the door before you, the door which Chan currently has his hand on, the door clearly labeled No Public Access.

The other alpha glances over his shoulder at you, and upon seeing your expression, chuckles, his hand already turning the knob.

“I promise, I’m not gonna kidnap or murder you. Swear to God.”

You stay rooted to the spot, staring him down, eyes still narrowed.

“I’m not worried about that. I could absolutely crush you in hand to hand combat, Christopher Bang. Felix has been teaching me taekwondo.”

His eyes go wide for a moment, and then he laughs, a genuine, throaty chuckle, and starts to pull open the door.

“Good to know.”

He throws another mischievous glance back at you, before ducking through the door, and you realize, with a deep sigh, that you have no other option but to follow him.

With slight caution, wolf on high alert, you step through the door.

Chan is waiting on the other side, and he watches with a growing smile on his face as your jaw drops and your eyes widen.

“Oh my god.” “Surprise?” He offers hesitantly, still watching you carefully.

You step forward, still staring, open mouthed, at the behind the scenes of the biggest traveling science exhibit that has ever graced downtown Seoul.

Chan cocks his head beside you, grinning full force now. “Seungmin said you really wanted to go.”

You glance back at him in disbelief. “Yeah, and he also said that tickets sold out instantly. How did you-?”

Chan shrugs, grin only widening, and gives you a mischievous wink. “I happen to have an inside man.”

Your gaze lifts once more to the towering displays, the hundreds of people walking by on the opposite side of the glass cases, and you feel your heart do a weird little thing in your chest.

You force your gaze to remain impassive as you turn back to the other alpha once more.

“You don’t like science.”

He shrugs again, looking serious now, his eyes holding yours. “Yeah, but you do.” His lips lift once more into a cheeky grin, dimples appearing. “And I like you, so.”

You scoff, hoping to god he hasn’t seen the light pink starting to dust your cheeks, and glance down at where your sneakers scuff the floor in an effort to avoid his gaze.

“Disgusting.”

Chan chuckles, and his hand finds the small of your back. His palm is warm, even through the thick material of your coat.

“Oh, speaking of man on the inside-”

You raise your gaze curiously at his words, and see someone headed directly toward you, purpose in their step, and there’s two things you notice immediately about Chan’s ‘inside man.’

Number one-she’s not a man, not in the slightest.

And two, her candied peony scent wafting toward you tells you only one thing-omega.

Your wolf growls protectively, and you swallow, trying to keep your own scent stable.

The woman reaches the two of you, and eyes crinkling into a large smile, stops just short of touching Chan, her heels coming to a sharp staccato on the tile beneath your feet.

“I’m so glad you made it!”

Chan, however, doesn’t hesitate, sweeping her into a hug that has them both laughing as he exclaims, “Lisa! Super great to see you, mate!”

Your wolf snarls-mine-and you immediately force the thought deep down inside, because it’s bullshit, all of it.

Chan isn’t yours-you’re not even sure if you like the guy-and he’s definitely not pack, so why is your entire body quivering with withheld jealousy at this moment?

You note the sour tone to your scent, and force a deep breath and a smile as Chan finally releases the omega and she turns to you.

Chan grins. “(Y/N), this is Lisa. She’s the one who managed to get us in.” He glances at the shorter woman proudly, then, “She’s one of Seoul’s top emerging event planners.”

Lisa giggles and swats his arm. “Stop. Don’t tell her things like that, Channie.”

The nickname has bile rising in the back of your throat, and you try to ignore the way Lisa tucks her long blonde hair prettily behind her ear as she steps toward you and holds out her hand.

You take it, noting the way her perfectly manicured red nails are in stark contrast to your own, currently sporting chipped teal nail polish haphazardly applied by Jisung.

“It’s so nice to meet you. Chan doesn’t shut up about you.” She gives you a little conspiratorial smile and wink as she shakes your hand gently.

“Oh?” You glance past her to Chan with a raised eyebrow, and he’s dutifully avoiding your gaze now. “That’s good to hear. I’m flattered, Channie.”

He glances up at the sharp use of the nickname, but you’re already looking away.

“Well.” Lisa steps back, releasing you, and your whole body gives a sigh of relief as the smell of peonies starts to fade. “I’ve got things to do. But it was really nice to meet you, (Y/N)-” She gives you a little nod and smile, and gives Chan one more quick hug before stepping away, pointing a menacing finger in his direction. “-Keep in touch better, Channie. Your eomma is worried.” Chan rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly and huffs a laugh. “I’ll call her this week.”

Lisa nods. “Good.” She waves to you both. “Enjoy the exhibit, you two!”

She disappears into the crowds.

You watch her go, trying to calm your bristling nerves and annoyed wolf, and Chan steps up beside you. “Ready?”

You drag your eyes away from where Lisa disappeared, and can’t help but be petty, just for a moment.

“She’s pretty.”

Chan is quiet for a moment, and then he drops a hand on your shoulder, leaning in to murmur in your ear with slight amusement, “You don’t need to be jealous, you know.”

You scoff and shrug out from under his hold, determined not to look at him.

“I’m not jealous, Christopher, I’m bisexual.”

One of those things is the truth, so it’s only half a lie.

Without another glance back, you stomp toward the line for the science exhibit.

Chan chuckles beneath his breath and follows you without another word.

*******

You’re watching Chan cook beef-raw, red, rare, just how you both like it-on the small barbecue grill at the restaurant later, and you don’t know if it’s the soju or the atmosphere or the leftover glow from the exhibit, but everything feels soft, nice, in place.

Maybe it’s because he’s your moonmate, your wolf whispers, and you bury the thought deep beneath the surface before you can dwell on it, knocking back another shot of soju.

“You should drink some water.” Chan hums beneath his breath, as he flips another piece of meat, and you roll your eyes.

“No.”

“Yeah.” He motions with his chopsticks to your water glass with a raised brow. “It’s good for you.” You hold his gaze defiantly, and reach for the glass without looking, draining the water before setting it back down on the table.

“Happy?” You ask in an overly sweet tone, batting your eyelashes at him for good effect.

Chan laughs and shakes his head, going back to tending the meat.

“Yeah, happy.” He flips the meat once more, lips still pulled into an amused smile at your antics, and settles back into his chair, watching it carefully as it continues to sizzle.

He catches you off guard when he says, “You know, I know you think you’re being all bristly and standoffish when you’re like this, but it can’t be helped.” He glances up at you through the shag of his curls and grins, and you try to ignore the flash of his dimples. “I find it incredibly cute when you’re trying to put up a defiant front.”

You stare at him and then groan, rolling your eyes.

“Oh god. You’re one of those.”

Chan stares at you in open confusion. “One of those?” He questions back, looking entirely lost now.

“Yeah.” You nod and prop your chin in your hand, staring him down, as he pulls pieces of meat off the grill and places them on your plates. “A brat tamer.”

His chopsticks pause in mid air. “What?”

You pop a piece of beef into your mouth and chew, before you say, pointing at him with your chopsticks now, “Yeah. Someone who likes when their partners defy them, or rile them up on purpose. Minho’s one too.”

Chan is staring at you. “Oh, really?”

You can tell. He’s just had some sort of epiphany.

You eat another piece of meat and chew while nodding emphatically. “One hundred percent. See-” You wave your chopsticks around again, as Chan moves to turn off the grill, popping his own piece of beef into his mouth. “-You and Minho. Makes sense. Changbin, he’s like, half that way? But only with certain partners. Usually Hyunjin, cause that one is a capital B Brat. With me-” You take a sip of your water thoughtfully. “-Changbin usually switches. He’s big into bottoming sometimes.”

Chan chokes on his own sip of water.

You wait for his coughing to die down, and then he says hoarsely, “That–feels illegal to know.”

You shrug and eat another bite of food. “I mean. If you wanna be part of the pack, you need to know all that shit, right?”

You eat another bite, dutifully avoiding his gaze, even though you can feel it boring into your head, and try to ignore the way the atmosphere has gotten suddenly serious.

Finally, Chan clears his throat and asks quietly, “You–want me to join the pack?”

You shrug and continue to avoid looking across the table, moving your food around your plate aimlessly now, just for something to do.

“I mean. Jury’s still out. And it’s not just up to me. But-” You glance up now, and you have to stop yourself from letting your gaze fall to his mouth, the plush skin of his bottom lip sucked between his teeth in an anxious gesture. “-I don’t think I’m opposed anymore.”

Chan sucks in a sharp breath, you see it in the rise and fall of his chest, and then he grins so brightly that you’re almost blinded.

You clear your throat and take another long drink of water, just so he doesn’t see the blush creeping up your neck.

“I-” He sets down his chopsticks and folds his hands in his lap. “-I’m really happy to hear that actually.”

“Don’t go getting a big head.” You warn teasingly, though you still can’t quite meet his gaze. “Like I said, it’s not just up to me, and Minho’s a hard sell.”

Chan’s grin widens.

“I wouldn’t worry about Minho. Now that I know we have so many similar qualities, I think we’ll get along just fine.”

******

“Well, this is me.” You offer awkwardly, trying to be cheesy because you know Chan just lives a floor up from you, but falling flat, as you both stand in front of your door after dinner.

Chan laughs anyway, because he’s a good sport, and you appreciate the gesture. You’ll never admit it to him, but when he laughs and his dimples appear, it makes you go all warm and fuzzy inside, your thoughts turning to mush.

Damn soju.

You’re both hesitating for some unknown reason now, and Chan looks like he wants to say something, but can’t quite brave it, and you decide to hell with it, you’ll do it, because what’s the worst that could happen?

“Do you wanna come in?” You blurt out, no hesitation, voice confident, and Chan looks entirely off guard. “And yes, that’s entirely a line. It’s definitely an invitation. Just so we’re clear.”

He’s still staring at you blankly, and the smirk curving your lips fades in the face of his silence, and suddenly, you’re floundering.

You backpedal a bit, hand sneaking behind you to the doorknob. “I mean, only if you want to, of course. You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”

Chan kisses you before you can make an even bigger fool of yourself.

This kiss is entirely different from the first time, when you kissed in the hallway outside Felix’s room, on the brink of something unknown and an omega’s heat.

That kiss was sweet and soft and gentle and a bit timid, languid, testing unsure boundaries.

No, this kiss is nothing like that. This kiss is impatient and hurried, frantic, teeth bumping and tongues tangling almost instantly, licking into each other’s mouths as Chan cages you back against the door, angling your chin expertly with one big hand.

There’s a break for breath, and you find words still tumbling from your lips.

“We never got to talk about it, after Felix and everything, and we said we’d do it later and I just thought-” “(Y/N).” Chan’s low, commanding use of your name has you shutting up, meeting his gaze, his irises swirling golden and caramel, his lips pulled into the start of an amused smirk.

He lets his thumb trace over the outline of your bottom lip, slow and sensual, and you have to stop the visceral reaction of a shiver that threatens to run up your spine.

“Stop talking.”

You swallow, and freeze beneath his hand, his fingers now tracing down your throat.

“Right. Sorry.”

His smirk flickers, and then he’s leaning in once more, slotting his mouth over yours, picking up where you left off.

Chan tastes like soju and vanilla chapstick and how the forest floor smells after rain, and you know that doesn’t make sense, but somehow it does and-

The warmth of his fingers curl around the jut of your hip bone beneath your sweater, and suddenly, cognitive function ceases to exist, what is a thought? You wouldn’t know.

He slots a thigh between your legs, and makes a content noise in the back of his throat when you gasp in response-something between a hum and a growl-and dammit, if it doesn’t instantly make you wet.

His fingers graze your scent gland and-

Fuck.

You’re stumbling backward into your apartment before either of you know what you’re doing, tangled up in each other, blindly navigating the hallway, your fingers tangled in his curls, his palm on the small of your back to keep you from falling.

When your back hits the bed, you break contact for another brief moment, and you stare at each other for a long second, and you don’t know what Chan’s thinking, but you’re admiring the way he looks like this-all kiss bitten and rumpled from your fingers, hovering above you, knees on either side of your hips, staring down at you like you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He seems to snap out of his daze after a moment and glances around your small room.

“Fuck. I didn’t-” He glances back to you helplessly, and you understand what he’s getting at.

“It’s fine.” You motion to your arm with a raised brow. “Birth control. You can hit it raw, pretty boy, with no consequences. Consider me every man’s wet dream.”

Chan stares at you for another long moment, and you think he’s gonna make a comment somewhere along the lines of ‘but what if-’ or ‘we should be safe, just in case-” because you don’t know much, but you’ve gathered that Christopher Bang is a bit of an overthinker, even in the short time you’ve known him.

But instead, he simply leans back in, and putting his lips close to your ear, murmurs, “Would you like that? Tell me, would you like me to breed you, (Y/N)?”

All the air leaves your lungs, and when he meets your eyes once more, you see it, see the alpha, the gold swirling, mesmerizing, in the depths of his dark gaze.

Everything inside of you wants.

“I-” You start to say, because you can’t think of the words, can’t even form a cognitive thought after what he’s just asked, even though inside, your wolf is practically clawing in impatience, begging for you to say yes.

Yes, alpha, I’d like that. God, I want that, more than anything.

He’s still staring at you, eyes like minted coins, and he cocks his head, raising a brow in an entirely too attractive way for your own good.

“Hm?” He hums beneath his breath, reaching up to trace a finger over your mouth, finger coming back slick with spit. “Use your words, baby. Tell alpha what you want.”

You swallow, and gain back some of your senses.

“I think you want me to beg you to fuck me, alpha.” You reply instead, heart hammering in your ears, trying to keep your expression neutral as you stare up at him, your wolf making it hard, as it already bares its throat.

Chan smirks, predatory and dangerous.

“Is that what I want?”

You shrug casually, trying to put on an air of indifference.

“Sure sounds like it.” Chan, for what it’s worth, looks thoughtful, before he once again leans into your space suddenly, his fingers looping around your wrists as he pins you down, eyes sparking.

“Interesting. Because I think-” He muses beneath his breath, voice almost a growl in the back of his throat, and you have to stop your body from quivering beneath his in a physical reaction to his tone. “-it sounds like I’m asking you to tell me how badly you’d like for me to finish inside of you.” “Oh my god.” You exclaim, staring at him in shock now, as he drops the facade and instantly looks worried, like he’s hurt you somehow, or done something wrong. “This is a kink for you, isn’t it?”

You see his shoulders slump in relief, and he suddenly looks like he’s reflecting.

“I dunno. Is it? Maybe. I’ve never really thought about it.”

“It’s definitely a kink.” You laugh at his open surprise, reaching up to stick a finger into the outline of one of his dimples. “But we can talk about that later. Right now-”

You let the grin drop from your face as you push yourself up on your elbows beneath him, and Chan looks curious, frozen, like he’s waiting for what you’re going to do next.

You lean in close and let your lips brush his ear, teeth grazing his pulse point as you talk. You don’t miss the way he shivers.

“Right now, alpha, I’d really like for you to fill me up.”

******

“Breeding kink.” You announce triumphantly, as you sit down at the table in Changbin’s kitchen, letting your backpack drop to the floor.

“Oh god.” Chan groans out from between his fingers, already flushing pink.

“Really.” Hyunjin whistles, glancing at Chan with a smirk, before he reaches into his pocket and flicks Changbin a dollar across the table. “Interesting.”

“I did not see that one coming.” Jisung looks thoughtful, and a little bit betrayed, as he too reaches into his pocket and slaps a dollar into Changbin’s outstretched hand.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Chan has gotten over his embarrassment enough to look appalled at what’s happening around him. “Did you guys bet on this?”

“Of course we did.” Hyunjin snorts, stuffing a hot cheeto into his mouth, as he pulls out his phone gleefully. “I gotta call Felix. This is gold.”

“And I won.” Changbin announces smugly, counting the dollars in his hand slowly, as if he’s a banker at a betting table in Vegas, collecting his hard earned winnings.

Chan glances at you with helplessness in his gaze, and you shrug, leaning over to snag one of Hyunjin’s cheetos.

“Sorry, dude. Welcome to the pack.” Jisung cackles suddenly from his spot beside the refrigerator.

“God, Minho-hyung’s gonna be pissed when he finds out. He was really gunning for spit.”

“Oh my god.” Chan groans again, and you grin at him wickedly, raising an eyebrow as you stuff another hot cheeto past your lips.

“Like I said. Welcome to the pack, Christopher Bang. Enjoy your stay.”

************************************************************************

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jasntodds · 1 year

Text

Caving In [14]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 7,539

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, depression (canon, Jason), the roof scene is in this chapter and reader is the one who finds him so, the Titans being assholes, mentions of a burn

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: So, I finished writing the rest of this book and have started the next one which I also have had almost entirely plotted out this whole time and I’m excited lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

As the morning goes by, you and Gar spend most of it in the living room. You ate your breakfast together, far earlier than ever intended but it was kind of nice because it was just the two of you. The rest of the Titans were still asleep and Jason only came by to pluck a pancake off of your plate before going back to his room. You and Gar do spend enough time alone but not having anyone else up, besides Jason, is really nice. You just get to be around each other without knowing that someone is going to interrupt or you'll have some type of training session to get to. It's nice and comforting.

One by one, the Titans get up, Dick being the first one and he's surprised to see the two of you awake and in the living room so early, especially you. You’re not an early riser. He doesn't ask questions though and hopes it's because you had trouble sleeping and not because you and/or Jason were up to something that Gar had to talk you out of. He just lets you be while you and Gar have a rewatch of The Walking Dead.

"I'd totally survive the apocalypse." You let out a sigh as you turn on the fifth episode.

Gar lets out a laugh beside you. "You could survive anything at this point."

"Right? Probably don't even have to try." You turn to face Gar. "Okay, if the apocalypse happens," You start and Gar raises his brows at you, intrigued where this is going. "Do you think it'll be like Walking Dead, Zombieland, The Last Of Us, or Love and Monsters?"

Gar lets out a breath, looking to the ceiling before looking back to you. He's definitely thought about this. "Walking Dead or The Last Of Us, both of those seem realistic."

You let out a booming laugh. "True! That would be the most likely scenario, even in a world with metahumans."

"It's also better than Zombieland zombies that can run."

"I know! That makes the whole thing a bit more terrifying." You shake your head. "But, I hope we end up with Love and Monsters because I mean, giant animals."

"That would be ideal." Gar gestures towards himself.

"A green tiger would be very normal."

"Exactly!"

Your laughter subsides and you fall into a comfortable silence. Gar resituates and guilt eats away at your bones. He winces when he moves and you figure it's because his side hurts. You swear you'll be apologizing for it every single day until you both die. You’re very grateful for him though because he is very understanding of it. You think most people would have dropped you, wanted nothing to do with you, and wouldn't trust you anymore. But, not Gar. You’ve already apologized several times since it happened and Gar has been telling you that it's okay and he's okay with a kind smile. You’ve said it before and you'll probably always think it, Gar is unfathomably kind.

"Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, guilt coating your words.

"I'm positive." Gar chuckles softly. "I'm fine."

You nod softly. "I'm still really fucking sorry."

"It's okay." Gar urges you before taking a drink of the Gatorade. "It was an accident."

"I know." You let out a sigh. "But, I'll probably be trying to make it up to you for...the rest of our lives." You laugh softly.

"You don't have to. Rachel nearly took my hand off and I'm fine."

"She...what?" You pause.

Rachel even accidentally attacking Jason makes sense. Jason pushes her buttons more than anyone so if she were going to snap, it would be on Jason. But Gar? What could Gar have possibly done?

"Yeah, I woke her up when you guys got kidnapped. Her cloud of razor blades attacked me."

"Okay, that's not fair. How are you the one getting hurt by us?" You groan. "I'm really sorry and I'm sorry I didn't know."

You were a little preoccupied with being kidnapped and tortured and then nearly dying and nearly losing Jason. You not noticing is excusable but that doesn’t stop you from feeling guilty about it. Gar was still hurt and you should have noticed. Gar would have noticed if the roles were reversed.

"You were kidnapped and then dropped from a skyscraper. I think not knowing is acceptable." Gar chuckles.

"Yeah, that's true." You shrug a shoulder. "Still, I'm sorry." You scrunch your nose. "So, whatever you need, let me know and I will get the thing." You declare, your voice confident.

"You're not gonna budge on that, are you?"

"Nope." You let out a laugh.

Your conversation gets interrupted by an alert coming from the intercom system. The two of you look at each other with confused expressions before getting up to see who's at the door. Everyone you both know is already at the tower, besides Dick, he left out of nowhere, but he doesn't need the intercom system to come up.

When Gar hits the button for the video and sound feeds on the intercom, you both see a woman with strawberry blonde hair looking a little panicked.

“My name is Eve Watson and I’m looking for someone who I think might be here.” She says, voice panicky and rushed.

You give Gar a shrug as he looks to you.

“Maybe you should go get Kory.” Gar whispers and you nod before running off to get Kory.

Someone showing up, in general, seems a little weird. You’ve been at the tower for three months and no one besides Uber Eats drivers ever show up at the tower. But, somehow this random woman knew you had weird flying guy? That seems a little off.

You find Kory in the room with the mystery guy, talking with him while he’s still unconscious.

“Uh…Kory?”

“Hmm?” Kory looks over to you. “What’s going on?”

“There’s some woman here?” You question. “Gar is talking to her through the intercom. She says her name is Eve Watson and she thinks she’s looking for someone here.” You look from Kory to the mystery guy before looking back to Kory.

“Okay.” Kory nods carefully as she gets up. “Let’s go then.”

Kory and you make your way back down the hall and back to Gar.

“Is there someone named Conner there?” You and Kory hear Eve say through the intercom just as you approach.

“Let her up.” Kory says and Gar takes a second look at Kory, almost to be unsure about it but he does as told.

The woman comes up through the elevator, Gar, you, and Kory waiting for her to come up. When she does, she has a white dog with pointy ears walking beside her. It’s in that moment, you trust her.

You’ve always wanted a dog but your mom would never let you get one. They’re a big responsibility and you didn’t have a lot of money. With your mom being a vet, it always seemed strange you didn’t have a pet. You understood the reasoning but it did not stop you from asking every birthday for a dog. But, now, there is a dog right in front of you and you haven’t been able to pet a dog since you were uprooted from Gotham. This is the best thing that’s happened in two weeks.

“She has a dog.” You whisper to Gar.

Gar chuckles softly. “She said the dog lead her here?”

“Oh, so a smart dog.” You smile almost visibility vibrating next to him.

“Are you okay?”

“Love dogs.”

“You think we have Conner?” Kory asks.

“It sounds crazy, but the dog led me here.” Eve explains. “Tall, dark hair, looks like Superman.” Even lets out a sigh.

“Come with me.” Kory jerks her head towards the hallway.

Your smile falls as you watch the dog follow the women down the hallway and Gar lets out a laugh.

“Why don’t you go with them? I was gonna take a nap anyway.”

“Are you sure? We could finish--”

“Go see if you can pet the dog.” Gar continues to laugh. “I’ll catch up later, wake me up before they leave though. I also want to meet the dog.” Gar beams and you laughs, nodding quickly before darting down the hallway.

You follow the women to Conner’s room, Kory noticing you. Kory doesn’t say anything though, figuring maybe you want to offer some help. After what happened with Deathstroke, Kory is willing to let you hang around for right now if you want to help. While Kory agrees that allowing any of the new Titans to go after Dr. Light would have been a bad idea, you sympathizes with you and Jason.

You reach the room and Eve sits down on the bed beside the mystery guy who’s still unconscious. The dog sits on the floor beside Eve and while the women talk, you stick your hand out for the dog to sniff you. The dog doesn’t seem bothered so you sit on the floor and cautiously pet his head. A giant smile plasters itself across your face as you pet the dog, now listening to the women talk about how Eve created Conner and how he ended up here. She goes on about how he’s going to die unless they can bring the sun directly to Conner. But, this is Kory. So, she has an idea and goes off to grab Rachel.

“So, you like….created him?” You ask, still petting the dog.

“Yeah.” Eve lets out a sigh.

“That’s pretty cool.” You state.

“It’s dangerous.”

“Yeah,” You sigh. “Having powers in a world like this seems to be. But, like, he’s half Superman and Kory will fix him so…pretty cool.” You nod your head. “What’s his name?”

“The dog?” Eve asks and you nods excitedly. “Krypto.”

“Krypto.” You smile looking at the dog. “I love dogs. Is it okay that I’m petting him? He didn’t seem to mind and you were talking.”

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Eve laughs softly.

“Hey, uh, you know, Conner saved my best friend.” You explain.

“He did? How?”

You shrug. “Dunno, exactly, I was dangling for my life but from what I’ve heard firsthand and what everyone else said, my friend was falling from a fifteen-story skyscraper and Conner came out of nowhere, jumped on a car and caught him mid-air.” Eve watches you carefully. “Look, I’m just saying you feel guilty and shit but had you found him earlier, it’s possible my friend would have died so I don’t think you should feel guilty about it.”

“He could die and that’s my fault. I created him and didn’t help enough.”

“No, you said that you helped him escape. They were gonna use him as a weapon, probably. You helped him and Kory is gonna save him. She’s a badass, trust me. So, you did good.” You offer her a kind smile.

“Thank you.” Eve says softly before looking back to Conner.

After a few minutes, Kory comes back with Rachel and she directs you, Eve, and Krypto to wait outside of the room. You sit right back down with Krypto, petting him while Kory gets Conner out of the bed and holds him up. She warns you it might get a little bit warm before asking Rachel if she’s ready. Rachel is a little uncertain and so are you.

Rachel has a hard time controlling her powers and you don’t really know why Kory trusts her so much to keep them in check right now. But, you trust Kory so there has to be a reason. Rachel uses her powers and her black and purple smoke surrounds Kory and Conner while Kory turns into a ball of fire. Your jaw nearly hits the floor as you watch.

“What…the…fuck.” You mutter and Eve has the same expression. “Sick.” You’re awestruck look turns into one of amazement and a giant smile comes to your face.

When Rachel brings her power back in, Kory stops and Conner is awake again. This definitely goes down in one of the coolest things you’ve ever witnessed and you find yourself having a little more respect for Rachel. Rachel always spoke so highly of Kory and maybe this is one of the reasons. Kory believes in Rachel enough to trust her to use her powers and not kill her. Not that you think Rachel could but it’s the trust that’s there and maybe that’s the whole issue with the tower right now. You, Gar, and Jason trust each other. But, Jason and you don’t trust Dick very much. Rachel doesn’t trust Jason and you think she doesn’t trust you very much because of your close proximity to Jason. The only person everyone collectively trusts is Gar but that doesn’t make for a very good team and you wonders if the Titans will ever work because of that.

Kory, Rachel, and you leave Eve, Conner, and Krypto to themselves, going your separate ways so they can talk. You head towards Gar’s room to tell him what just happened but his door is still shut and you know if he were awake, the door would be open. After last night, you do not want to wake him up so, you head two doors down to Jason’s room. You knock but then open the door, finding Jason standing in front of his windows, just looking out.

“Jay?” You call but he doesn’t even move. You walk beside him, looking from his eyes to the windows and then back to him. “Jason?” You wave your hand in front of his face and that seems to break him out f his trance.

“Fuck, yeah?” Jason jumps, spinning to you.

“You alright?” You ask, brows furrowed and the excitement you just felt vanishes and you worry about your best friend again.

“Yeah, what?” Jason snips and you narrows your eyes.

“You were just standing here…looking at the window?”

“You got a problem with that or something?” Jason snips again.

“Oh, snippy today.” You roll your eyes and walk over to one of his chairs, Jason shaking his head in confusion.

“Sure, make yourself comfortable.”

“I usually do.” You chortle. “Wanna know what just happened?” You ask, dropping the conversation about him because he doesn’t want to talk about it and you’re not gonna push him. Not today because maybe you owe him that much for last night.

Jason sighs and turns to face you. “Sure?”

“So, some woman shows up because of the guy that saved you and turns out, dude is named Conner and he is half fucking Superman and Lex Luther.” Your eyes nearly bug out of your head and Jason’s eyes widen.

“You’re fucking lying.”

“I could not make this shit up!” You exclaim. “So, she shows up and she’s got this dog with her who’s really cute. I got to pet him.” You beam and Jason finds it cute that you got sidetracked by the dog not the whole Superman and Lex Luthor thing. “So, in order to wake up Conner, Kory grabbed Rachel and turned into a ball of fire while holding Conner and Rachel used her powers to like keep it contained.” You ramble. “I know you don’t like Rachel or her powers but dude, it was the coolest shit I have ever seen.” You beam. “And Conner’s awake. Like, it worked.”

“He’s awake? From that?”

“Yeah, I guess it was something with kryptonite, that’s what he was shot with.” You explain.

“That’s…”

“Sick, right?” You ask.

“Yeah, that’s fucking sick. So, a ball of fire just wakes him up from a coma?”

“Guess so.” You laugh. “And there’s a dog.”

“You said that.” Jason chortles. “Didn’t realize you were a dog person?”

“Do I seem like a cat person to you?” You quip.

Jason laughs. “You're into Gar who turns into a fucking tiger.”

You pause before narrowing your eyes. "Yeah, but that's different. Tigers are not house cats." You hold your up and Jason shake his head at you. “So, it was super cool and I had to tell someone about it.”

“Gar not wanting to listen?” Jason quips.

“He’s napping, after last night I figured I’d let him nap.” You explain.

Jason nods just once. “How’d it go? After I left my own fucking room for you guys.”

Jason mostly asks because he wants to know if you both actually talked about your feelings or if you backed out of it. He figured Gar wouldn’t but he thought maybe you would. You didn’t seem too confident in your answer to Jason last night. You back out of a lot of the games you two play so he thought maybe you’d back out of telling Gar. He doesn’t hope for that though.

“Uh..." You furrow your brows. "It went, I guess. He's not mad at me or anything. He's being understanding, ya know?” You smile shyly.

"Did you tell him?" Jason asks, more or less digging for answers.

You pause for just a second, thinking about playing the game. But, then you think about how that would be unfair. You both made your decisions.

"No..." You let out a scoff. "It did not seem like the right time and..." You shrug, hiding more of the reason because you’d not about to tell Jason the reason you didn't tell Gar is because you like him. "I don't want him to feel obligated to tell me the same thing because I said it. I'll tell him eventually." You shrug it off and turn the question back to him. “You’ve been hanging out with Rose a lot…?” You question.

Jason gains a goofy grin. “She kissed me last night.” Jason announces.

“She what?” You nearly yell and you can feel the burning start in the very pit of your stomach. Definitely not jealousy.

Jason shrugs. “Yeah,” He has this cocky smile as he licks his lips.

You don’t need to know that Rose kissed him and then Jason put a stop to it like how he did with you last week. You don’t need to know that little bit of information.

“You really like her?” You ask, the slightest bit of snark in your voice that Jason absolutely catches.

Jason shrugs again. “Think so.” Jason laughs softly because he can’t have you. But, he likes Rose enough. He could like her more if he gave her a fair shot. Rose is different. Jason can’t break or hurt her. Deathstroke took care of that. And Gar isn’t into Rose.

“Good, I hope she makes you happy. She’s pretty cool.” Your words taste sour on your tongue but you swallow your pride anyway. You do want him to be happy. Jason deserves to be happy.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason chuckles softly. “She got mad though, like right after.”

“What, why? You’re not that bad of a kisser.” You tease him, trying your best to brush it off.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jason groans, but there's still a hint of his cocky grin pulling at his lips. “I borrowed Dick’s records, he had one with her brother’s name on it. She freaked out on me.” The smirk falls as he shakes his head, brows knitted together.

“That’s weird.” Your brows furrow. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“Told her I didn’t know about it, think we’re alright now. But I didn’t even know she had a brother.”

“Seems getting information out of her is like getting information out you. Pulling teeth.” You chuckle softly. “I don’t know that is weird though.”

“Yeah.” Jason lets out a sigh but before either of you can continue the conversation, Rachel comes barging in.

Rachel storms right up to Jason and starts yelling. “How fucked up are you?” She yells, your eyes widen. “All you do is give people a reason to hate you!”

Jason just stares at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The crosses on my mirror!”

“Still don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Jason’s voice is flat but Rachel doesn’t believe him.

Her eyes turn red as she shoves his shoulder. “Don’t fucking lie to me!” Her voice is lower and freaky with the shove.

“What the fuck?” You jump up from your seat on his chair, moving to stand in between them. "Leave him alone." You grit your teeth and you don't want to do this today. Why is she even blaming Jason?

Jason pauses for a second. He's not going to stand here and be blamed for something he didn't even do. He's been in his room since he got done training two hours ago. “I’m sick of this shit.” Jason mutters, grabbing his jacket and storming out of the room.

“Literally, what the fuck, Rachel?” You stare at her, fists balled at your sides but just for a second before you follow Jason, Rachel right behind you.

You’re questioning the universe right about now. You desperately want to know why either of you can’t seem to catch a fucking break. Seriously, what could either of you have possibly done to piss the universe off so badly? Especially Jason. He actually hasn’t done a single thing and yet he keeps getting dealt these hands and now Rachel is jumping down his throat. It’s ridiculous.

You and Rachel follow Jason into the living area where Dawn, Hank, and Kory are.

“Don’t fucking walk away from me!” Rachel screams past you.

“SHUT UP!” You scream, trying to catch up to Jason.

“Woah, hey, what’s happening?” Dawn asks from her seat at the snack bar.

“Jason drew crucifixes all over my mirror!” Rachel points her finger at Jason standing ten feet away from him while you’re smack in the middle as you all come to a halt.

“Bullshit!” Jason looks at Rachel.

“Jason, it’s okay if you’re angry.” Dawn says as she approaches the three of you.

“I didn’t do shit, okay?” Jason’s voice sounds desperate this time. “Look, don’t blame me for her voodoo issues.” Jason says as Donna walks in from behind him.

“What’s up with all the drama?” Donna asks as she stands next to Dawn.

“Someone drew crosses on Rachel’s mirror and she thinks Jason did it.” Dawn explains keeping her voice kind and calm as usual.

“I know he did it.” Rachel declares.

“No, he didn’t, Rachel!” You interject. “You’ve just got fucking problems with him so you’re first fucking response is to blame him.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“Cute idea with the Bourbon bottle.” Hank starts, making his way towards the older women. “Not my type though. I’m more of a Sour Mash guy.” Hanks says, this time Jason and you looking at him with confusion having no idea what he’s even talking about. “You ever go into my room and pull that shit again, I’ll forget what team you’re on.”

“Why Jason?” Donna asks.

You let out a huff. You can’t believe you’re listening to them blame him for absolutely no reason. And when you look to Jason, he looks completely heartbroken and devastated. He has no idea what they’re even talking about. You don't think you'll forgive any of them for the look on Jason's face right now. And the fact none of them even see it, makes the whole thing that much worse.

“I don’t know what happened, guys but I-I didn’t do it.” Jason says, his voice defeated. You’ve never heard him stutter before.

“What about the picture of Elis?” Dawn asks.

“The orange soda bottle?” Donna asks, everyone pointing fingers at Jason.

“He did it to you guys, too?” Rachel asks.

“Fuck this.” Jason huffs, ready to leave the conversation.

“Hey,” Hank yells. “We’re not done here, kid.”

“You people are insane!” Jason yells, his eyes turning glossy. “I’d rather be with Deathstroke than you assholes.” Jason pauses and you can see his heart literally breaking. “You guys think everything is my fault.”

There it is. He can’t do it anymore. Even though he didn’t do anything, it’s still somehow his fault. He didn’t mean for the Deathstroke thing to happen. It was an accident and he’s the one that suffering the consequences but they’re all blaming him. They’re blaming him for this stuff he doesn’t even understand. What would an orange pop have to do with anything? The Titans have been on edge this whole time and Jason’s beginning to think it’s him. Maybe if he weren’t around, the Titans would be fine. Maybe they would all get along. They definitely would not be having this argument right now. All of this is his fault and he can’t do it anymore.

“Why is that?” You snap your attention to the older Titans and position yourself to be standing with your back towards Jason, drawing your own line in the sand. “He clearly didn’t fucking do it and none of you even suspected him until Rachel decided to fucking lose it.”

“Because I know he did it!” Rachel screams.

“Why would he do it, Rachel?” You screams over her. You’re going to lose your mind, you can feel it.

“He hates me, Y/n! Unless you’re too blind to see that!”

“You almost fucking killed him! Of course, he hates you!” You fight back, catching Rachel off guard. You will throw her under the bus. She’s gonna throw Jason under the bus, you’ll the same to her.

“You did what?” Kory asks.

“Yeah? In training, she lost fucking control and almost fucking killed him. Lifted him ten feet into the air, aimed a bunch of swords at him.”

“He hit me when I was down!”

“We were all blindfolded for fuck's sake! He didn't even hit you that hard!” It's in this moment, you’re positive Jason has always been right about Rachel because this is actual insanity.

Gar comes from one of the hallways looking exhausted. “Can’t a guy get some sleep?” His voice is drowsy and you glance to him.

“No, because everyone in the tower has literally lost their damn minds! They’re blaming Jason for some fucking bullshit!” You throw your arm out towards the older Titans.

“You’re always on his side!” Rachel screams.

“Someone has to be, Rachel! Clearly, none of you are gonna actually ask him if he did it. You’re all just pointing fucking fingers like a bunch of children.” You look at the supposed adults surrounding you. “Hey, uh, right, so how did Jason do it when I was like….with him? Do you think he ran out of his room the second Kory came to get you just do that? That's fucking stupid!"

“He's the only one that would have done it!" Rachel argues.

You laugh. How can anyone be taking this seriously right now? “But he wouldn't even do it! I know he didn't do it! He was barely fucking awake when I walked into his room! How would he have done it?!” You tell a little bit of lie. It's not that he was asleep but he was kind of in a trance when you walked in. Regardless, you know it wasn't Jason. He wouldn't mess with Rachel like that and the more you think about it, the more you’re realizing that almost every single one of their fights has been caused by Rachel.

“We aren’t pointing our fingers at him.” Dawn says calmly.

“Hank is! Rachel is! You asked him about the picture of Elis and you,” You face Donna. “Asked about a pop? How the fuck would he know any of that!? Jason’s right, you’re all fucking insane! You all take down these shitty fucking people with evidence but when it comes to your own, you don’t need evidence to point the finger! What the hell is that about!?”

“Jason is an asshole!” Rachel yells.

“He is! But he isn’t a mind games kind of asshole! And being an asshole doesn't justify being blamed for some bullshit he very clearly did not do! He’s got more of a fucking problem with Dick and Dick is the only one not experiencing this weird shit, isn’t that weird? What the hell is wrong with you guys?” You scoff.

The anger bubbles through your entire body. Every inch of you feels like it's on fire. It's disgusting and appalling that these supposed heroes can blame Jason for this. How do they not see that he's struggling? How have they not noticed he's all but sleeping in the training room and skipping dinner? You know you cannot be the only to have noticed. Gar has. They should notice. They're supposed to be looking out for you four, not making false accusations with no proof or even a motive. It's not right and it's not fair. Jason deserves better than all of them.

“Y/n.” Gar warns softly as your hands start to glow.

“No! Fuck that! Are you all fucking blind? Are Gar and me the only fucking people noticing that he is really fucking struggling right now? And all of you are going to be making it worse! He is practically living in the training room, he’s barely eating, and he’s not sleeping. I know you guys are self-absorbed and for heroes, that’s weird, too but you guys have had to have noticed right?”

The room goes silent. The only one who has noticed is Kory and she isn’t accusing Jason of anything. You can feel the burning start behind your eyes with the silence of the room. This is the most unbelievable thing you’ve ever witnessed and been a part of. How have they not noticed? It's so blatantly obvious and none of them even care. It's cruel.

“Wow.” You nod your head with a scoff. “Good work, team. Good work looking after your own.” You grit your teeth and you can’t believe these people consider themselves heroes. “You know, you get kidnapped, tortured, and then dropped from a skyscraper and let me know how that treats your psyche. He didn’t fucking do it and it’s disgusting you all even think he did.”

“Who else did it then, kid?” Hank questions, crossing his arms.

“I don’t know but it wasn’t him. I know him better than all of you. It wasn’t him, Hank.” You’re nearly whining, practically pleading with them to believe you.

“He drew the crosses on my mirror, no one else hats me.” Rachel declares.

“Okay, let me break this down because you're clearly not using your brain. Mental manipulation works best when the person doing it, lets you believe you’re on the same side. If you were on opposing sides, it’s easier to see through the bullshit. Jason and you are not on the same side, ever. So, why would it be him? Again, he isn’t the mental manipulation type. The closest he gets to it is just talking and talking and talking until you get annoyed.”

“We know it wasn’t Rachel.” Donna states. “Or Gar.”

“It wasn’t Dick.” Dawn chimes in.

“How do you know!? He’s been acting fucking weird as shit lately, too!”

Dick's been kind of down and out lately. He's been checking around the tower and you swear you overheard him talking to himself the other night. Dick seems like he's also losing it. But, again, apparently, the only people who notice are you and Gar. For people who are supposed to be observant, they all suck at it.

“Dick wouldn’t do that.” Hank defends.

“Right, so I should believe Dick wouldn’t do it because you say so but you won’t believe that Jason didn’t do it because I say so. Great reasoning there, Hank.” You gives Hank a sarcastic thumbs-up.

“Hey, watch who you’re talking to.”

“Yeah? The fuck you gonna do about it? I’ve been held captive twice and once was with Deathstroke, I’m not fucking afraid of you.” You scoff at him. “Gonna forget what team I’m on, too?”

“Y/n, come on.” Gar pleads with you.

“This is fucking bullshit and I know you know it.” You look over at him before looking back to the older Titans. “What did he do that is so bad that you guys hate him that much?” Your voice breaks with the question because you can’t imagine him doing anything. You can’t figure out why no one sees him the way you do. Or why none of them want to.

Just as Rachel is about to fight you, the elevator opens and all of you look over, seeing Dick look a little spazzed out.

“He’s here.” Dick whispers as if he’s just cracked some sort of code. “In the tower. Deathstroke’s here in the tower.” Dick explains. “He took pictures of all of us.”

You would very much, also, like to be back with Deathstroke. At least the guy was a little more straightforward than these people. Deathstroke had a reason for the madness. It wasn't a good reason but it was a reason. Meanwhile, the Titans have nothing and Dick had officially lost his mind.

“Dick…talk to me, what’s with the gun?” Hank asks, pulling everyone’s attention to the gun in Dick’s hand.

It’s this moment that confirms to you that everyone in the tower has lost their minds. Deathstroke is also completely insane but you and Jason were tortured by him and even you two aren’t that out of your minds. You aren’t sure what’s up with the Titans, but at this point, you don’t even wanna know. Instead, you figure you’ll use this time to grab Jason and try to avoid the other Titans. But, you look around and he’s gone.

“Fuck.” You let out an exasperated sigh, actively pulling attention back on you. “Shit.” Your eyes widen and the panic sets in. Jason isn’t doing well mentally and now you’re scared for what he’s going to do. Everyone blames him. Everyone hates him. He wants to be with Deathstroke over these people.

“Y/n?” Gar asks, seeing the panic written across your entire body as you approach him.

“Check the training room for Jason.” You rush as you dart the other way and everyone is left confused as to what you could be in a hurry for.

You head to his room first and he isn't there. You don't think he would go to the training room, it's too exposed. But, Jason keeps falling in his dreams and he has a thing for suffering. If it were you, you'd go to the roof so that's where you go. If Jason would rather be with Deathstroke, the answer would be the roof. He’s terrified and you can see it. He has nightmares about falling so of course, that would be his way out. To him, it’s going to be easy and accessible and no one even noticed he was gone.

You run towards the roof door, barging through it and the door flies open. Your heart sinks as you sees Jason standing on the ledge, looking straight ahead. Your feet come to a complete stop and you swear you never thought you’d have to talk someone down from this. And you hate that he even feels this way. He deserves so much better. But, you have to swallow the lump that’s forming in your throat and walk over to him.

“Jay?” You call quietly, walking carefully as if the roof is a lake covered in thin ice. Any wrong step would send you both into freezing waters.

“They all hate me.” Jason’s voice is so small and it breaks a part of you.

“They fucking suck, Jason.” You state, trying to make your voice sound like it’s not about to crack.

“It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” You hold your voice steady as you close the distance toward the ledge. “None of this is your fault.” You state strongly. “Cam you please get down?”

“Rachel blamed me first. Maybe if I didn’t tell her to get checked by a priest.” Jason lets out a breath, ignoring the request. He swears everyone’s lives would be better if he wasn’t a part it anymore.

You take a step close to the ledge, looking over it and you feel yourself grow nauseous. You’re sick and tired of these heights but this is Jason. You look up to him and with shaky hands, you put your hands on the ledge and lift yourself up. You take a seat, letting your legs dangle as you have a death grip on the ledge. Jason glances to you with just his eyes, daring to not move his head. You’re never going to let Jason be alone in any of this. If he’s going to stand on the edge, you’re gonna be right there with him. He will never be alone if you have anything to say about it.

“Her dad possessed you, traumatized you. That wasn’t her fault, but it was her responsibility to apologize for it and listen to you about it. That’s not on you, Jay.”

“I just keep fucking up.” His voice quivers as he moves his foot forward and you nearly break.

“Jason,” You rush his name. “I am begging you not to walk off this roof.” You keep your attention on Jason and that’s all you can focus on. You can’t fucking lose him. “It’s not your fault. You’re not fucking it up. Okay? This is on them. You’re just trying to help.”

“I keep falling.” Jason’s voice quivers again. “It won’t stop.” Jason sucks in a breath and now you know why he keeps standing at his windows like that. He’s just reliving it over and over and over.

“Jason, it’s gonna be okay.” You keep your voice soft and gentle as you keep your stare forward.

Jason doesn’t know how you can even say that. It doesn’t feel like it’s going to be okay. It’s been a week and it feels like it happened yesterday. It still feels like he’s on the window washing crane. The Titans hate him for no reason. He’s never done anything to make them hate him. That’s not going to be okay and it’s not going to get better. They’re always going to hate and they’re always going to blame him for anything they can. And it’s his fault.

This always happens. Jason pushes and pushes until people break and pull away. He doesn’t even know exactly why he does it but he does. People try to help him and it all fails. He’s a mess and maybe he’s too big of a mess to ever be fixed. He’s tired of it and he’s tired of feeling like this.

“Bruce wasn’t the first one, ya know?” Jason states. “Who tried to help me. I can make a list. Relatives, teachers, cops, Dick. Nobody's been up to the task.”

You pause and you already knew that all Jason has ever wanted is feel good enough. He sabotages. You get it because you do it, too just in different ways. But, Jason is not all bad. Jason is hard-headed and stubborn and cocky. He can be a little shit and he’s a little too snippy and sarcastic sometimes. But, if anyone bothered to get to know him, they’d know him how you know him. Which is that he’s a good friend. He’ll sacrifice his own feelings for his friends, he’s self-sacrificing, and kind, and funny. He’s charming and a geek in his own way. He’s a nerd and he deserves to be cared for. Everyone gave up way too soon.

“I am.” Your voice is quiet and you peak up at him with just your eyes, keeping your head steady and your words catch Jason off-guard. “I mean it. You know I don’t lie to you. Put that shit on me, remember? You’re not a fuck up. You deserve for people not to give up on you.”

Jason lets out a scoff because he doesn’t want to believe you. “I’ve got a poison in me.” Jason lets out a huff. “Shit spreads. It can affect even the healthiest people.”

“You don’t have a poison, Jay.” You state. “You don’t.”

“Look at what happened to you!” Jason’s eyes water further, blurring his vision slightly as his voice cracks.

“What? Deathstroke?” You scoff. “I was fucked up long before Dick brought me here, alright? Gotham, death, torture, held captive, almost murdered. Almost murdered Jerry. That’s all me, that has nothing to do with you. Deathstroke was gonna happen. If it wasn’t you coming up with the idea, it would have been me, let’s be honest.”

Jason bounces to something else. He’s finding every reason he can to keep standing here. He wants it all to be over, for the pain and the shame and the guilt to just stop. But, he doesn’t want to give up either. There are two sides of his brain playing tug of war. One of them is screaming and crying, pleading to hold a little longer while the other side is cackling and chanting to jump because everyone’s lives would be better without him in it.

“It’s happened before.” Jason starts. “I once spent two nights in juvie and four fucking people died. It follows me like a curse.”

Your brows furrow and you hate that he feels this way about himself. No one should ever feel like that. You want to get off of this roof and hunt down every single person who’s ever made Jason Todd feel like he’s a poison and he’s not good enough. You’ll fight the entire world for him.

“Were you Robin?” You ask.

Jason pauses. “Yeah.”

“Then it’s not your fault.” You let out a scoff and you really do have something again Bruce and Dick. “That’s on Bruce. He’s been Batman our entire lives. He shouldn't need a Robin. He should have been a better Batman. It’s not your fault those people died, do you hear me?”

“I just want it to stop.” Jason’s voice finally breaks and you want to break with him but you can’t.

You want to drag him off of this roof and grab him by the face, scream at him that it’s all going to be okay and that he’s good enough. That he deserves everything good to happen because he is good. There is nothing wrong with him. He is worth the effort. But, you’re so scared that if you make any move towards him, he’ll lose it entirely. You would do anything to get his pain to stop.

“It’s not just you, Jay.” Your voice is soft. “Look, you know I have nightmares, too about all of it. It’s not just you and as long as I’m alive, it’ll never be just you. As long as I’m alive, you will never be alone in this shit.”

“What?”

“If I’m alive, you will never be alone. You won’t go through that shit alone because I’d follow you into the dark if you asked me to. You’re my best friend in the whole world and...I care more about you than I do about almost anyone I have ever met. I’d do anything in the world if you asked me to. You and me. Always.” You pause, looking behind you to see Dick standing a few feet away. “I mean it. You’re not a fuck up and you are not alone. Ever. Fuck, everyone else, okay? I am batshit terrified right now but I’m here with you because I care about you and I’d lose my fucking mind if I lost you. My life would be so much fucking worse without you in it.” Your words more intense and stern with every second. "Fuck them because you're not a fucking poison and you're not fucking cursed. And someone should have fucking been there for you. So, I will be. Now, get the fuck off this ledge.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Put it on me.” Your voice is so gentle, it nearly shatters Jason. "I will never give up on you. I will never let you do any of this alone, Jay. Please." You finally look at him with the final plea. Your eyes lock with Jason's and he make the decision. He takes a step back, stepping down from the ledge.

You follow his lead quickly, relieved over the whole situation and you feel like you can breathe again. You close the distance between you and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you. Jason buries his face into your shoulder, his arms hugging you tightly. Everything is so heavy for him. The weight of the world is drowning him and you are his life jacket.

And Dick sees the two of you and that’s when he gets it. When he gets what it means it has someone who is literally a ride or die. Dick worried about you together after Jerry. As friends, as more than friends, just being around each other. Something told Dick that would just be the beginning and the Deathstroke happened and Dick was certain he was right. But, now, he’s not sure if you’re the cause for each other’s destructive behavior.

You’re both just like that but you both get it. You understand exactly what the other is going through and how to handle it. It’s not about you causing each other to do something stupid, it’s that you both have someone who is there when you do it so you can pick up those pieces. He gets it now and he understands why he should have told the Titans about Jericho from the beginning. None of this would have happened. Jason would not have wanted to walk off this roof had he been honest. Maybe the Titans wouldn’t have disbanded. This is on him, not the two of you in front of him.

“This is my fault.” Dick speaks up, you and Jason pulling away from each other.

“Okay?” You question him, not even wanting to deal with him. This is also his fault, Jason and everything. This is on Dick.

“Deathstroke, all of this is my fault.” Dick admits.

“Yeah, I said that.” You nod your head. You’re not dealing with this. You got Jason off the ledge and would like to bring him inside and shield him from the Titans. “I’ll get Rachel or Dawn or Donna to talk you down though if you need it.” Jason looks at you, a bit surprised by the venom in your voice.

“No,” Dick shakes his head. “I owe everyone an explanation.” Dick sucks in a breath, you and Jason waiting to hear where this could possibly be going right now, of all times. “I killed Deathstroke’s son.” Dick admits.

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series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @thatfangirl42 // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @anthemabby // @baebeepeach

#gar logan #jason todd #gar logan x reader #garfield logan x reader #jason todd x reader #gar logan fanfic #gar logan fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #caving in

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ejzah · 2 months

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A/N: After an extremely long break, I’ve returned with this story after someone on ff.net requested an update.

***

There’s Nothing Friendly About It, Part 4

“Hm, maybe I should have picked a different book,” Kensi mused, flipping to the next page of a worn copy of “Jane Eyre”. She’d just finished narrating a heartbroken Jane leaving Mr. Rochester. “I remember it being less…depressing last time I read it,” Kensi continued to Deeks, even though she knew he wouldn’t respond.

From everything she’d read, reading was supposed to stimulate brain activity, and Kensi would do anything that might help Deeks regain consciousness. It had the added benefit of filling the silence and keeping her mind occupied. Nell had dropped off a small stack of books, including a couple Harry Potters, a terrible looking romance, and a couple of fantasy novels the other day.

“Why were crazy wives in old books always from tropics? Maybe we should switch to Harry Potter. Right now He Who Must Not He Named seems a little less dark. What do you think?”

“Not the fifth one.”

Kensi’s head snapped up at Deeks’ croaked request. His eyes were slightly cracked, his head turned towards her.

“Deeks,” she whispered, all but falling out the chair in her desperation to be at his side.

“Mm,” he grunted.

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” She cupped his cheek, needing to confirm what her eyes were telling him. His skin was just as pale and cool as before, but she saw the spark of light in his eyes.

“I’m guessing it would be in poor taste to joke right now?” Deeks said, pausing every few words to catch his breath. When he was done, he cleared his throat.

“You’ve been unconscious for six days,” Kensi told him carefully. “Do you remember what happened.

“Something not good.” He coughed a couple times and winced. “I remember something about mechanic and fraud, but nothing else. Did I get shot or stabbed this time?”

“How about we talk about that after I get a nurse?”

Deeks narrowed his eyes at her, but it didn’t have its usual affect since he blinked halfway through.

“I’ll be right back.” She hurried off, grabbing the first nurse she found (they all new her at this point), who immediately grabbed a car and accompanied Kensi back to Deeks’ room.

The nurse performed the usual checks and asked Deeks a series of orientation questions. For once, he wasn’t actively flirting, but Kensi could tell the nurse was charmed by all the same. Especially when he recalled her name.

“Well, your blood pressure, oxygen, and heart rate are in a good range,” she said. “I’ll ask the speech pathologist come around to assess you and

let your doctor know you’re awake.”

“Thank you, Renee.”

“Oh, you’re going to be trouble.” Smiling at Deeks, she patted his arm, then added to Kensi. “Don’t give him anything to drink or eat until the speech pathologist is by. Ok?”

Any worry Kensi had about Deeks insisting she answer his questions turned out to be unnecessary since his eyes started slipping closed again shortly after Nurse Renee left. He slept restlessly until the speech pathologist came.

She brought in a tray of various liquids and foods, giving Deeks a little of each to try. After that, she asked him a variety of questions and story problems. Even with his energy clearly waning again, Deeks answered them with little difficulty.

In the end, she determined that Deeks didn’t have any trouble with swallowing and aside from some confusion with the date and time, his cognition appeared to be unaffected. Kensi quietly sighed in relief.

Once the room was empty again, Deeks patted the side of his bed, waiting until Kensi gingerly scooted in beside him. He looked thoroughly exhausted and in pain, but determined.

She curled around him as best she could, automatically threading a hand through his hair.

“Ok, what happened?” Deeks asked.

“We went to the mechanics garage, just like you remembered and it turned into a shootout,” Kensi started. “You were hit.” She paused, needing to steel herself against the pain of remembering him laying on the ground, trying to stop his bleeding, and then watching him lose consciousness.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m here,” Deeks murmured, shaking her free of the memories.

“The doctors said the bullet hit a small artery. You nearly bled out.” She shuddered, and Deeks kissed her temple.

“I guess that explains why it feels like several elephants walked over me.”

“Deeks.”

“I’m sorry.” He tried to slide his arm around her, but gave up when he couldn’t figure out the tangle of IVs. “Did we catch the guys who did it?”

“Um, yeah, they’re either dead or under arrest,” Kensi said. She knew what he was asking, and that she was lying by omission. She also knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. She hadn’t even come to terms with the reality that he’d been shot by a teammate.

“Good,” Deeks sighed. He closed his eyes, then squinted one back open almost immediately. “You’ll stay here?”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”

Closing his eyes again, he settled into the pillow. Kensi ran her fingers through his hair, relief overshadowing every other emotion.

The truth could wait until later.

#ncis la fanfiction #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #angst #Deeks whump #hurt/comfort #there’s nothing friendly about it #part 4 #au #ejzah fanfiction

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iheartgod175 · 7 months

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Some Thoughts!

Man, I haven’t done a post like this in a while! But I figured I might as well before I work on one of my numerous WIPs XD

—So, I’ve been back on a Zula Patrol kick like you wouldn’t believe. Though that should be obvious with all the memes I’ve been making, haha! I promise this won’t become a Zula Patrol only blog, haha!

—I’ll be working on building my graphic design/editing skills so I can properly redesign my blogs ^^ You can expect a few graphics throughout the month! :)

—Chapter 4 of The Zula Patrol: Dreamscape Crusade Remastered is also coming along pretty nicely. I’ve been enjoying adding the layers of mystery and horror to the world that Multo ends up in. Oh, and a couple of new characters are making their appearance, too. And that’s all I’m going to say about the subject!

—I’ve also been steadily working on Love Language for the last couple of months. I thought FOR SURE that I’d be posting its first chapter by the end of the month, but life happened—not to mention that I keep coming up with MORE headcanons for Multo and Zeeter that I just have to write down and put in the story. XD Also, the story’s grown to the point where I had to break it up into FIVE chapters, now, with the fifth being the actual conclusion. This story’s been so fun to work on, and I hope you’ll all enjoy it when I finally publish it.

—That being said, I did have a few insecurities regarding the writing of Love Language. I wondered if anybody would actually read this story since 1. ZP isn’t a very well-known cartoon, and 2. Even for rarepair standards, Multo/Zeeter sure seems like it came out of left field. And for about a few weeks, I did leave it alone, out of worry that nobody would read it. But then I came across posts in my feed that said that it’s important to write the stories that you’d like to read, even if they don’t get any readership, because telling your story is what matters. I’ve dealt with this a lot since writing all of my stories, namely my Zula Patrol series. And while I struggle with it occasionally, I’m not going to let that whole “nobody will probably read this” mentality stop me from writing about these goofy aliens, and my favorite opposites-attract ship, of which I’m the sole captain.

—While I’ve been working on Blazin’ Trails content off and on, I’m having a deuce of a time trying to work on the final chapter of the original BT. I’ll literally sit down and open the document, looking for something to leap out at me and inspire me to work…but nothing’s working. And I really want to get things started with Blazin’ Trails Redux as well…*sigh*

—As for Super Why stuff, I’m looking forward to seeing the new shorts that are debuting next month! I got to see the first short, and it’s adorable. And I also can’t wait to see more of Power Paige in action! I just really hope that Woofster and Alpha Pig aren’t written out of the show :(

—Speaking of PBS Kids stuff…I kinda sorta got back into both WordGirl and Arthur. GOD, I feel old! And now, I’m half-tempted to have WG guest star in SRBA like Santiago will. The SRBA ‘verse? More like Into the Reader-verse, LOL XD

—Sodor Magic Crusaders MAY be getting an update in the near future. I thought about working on it for the first time in months, and I remembered that I only have a few episodes left until I can get to write the second season.

—Slowly but surely getting back into Honkai Impact 3rd. I still haven’t gotten a chance to watch the part 2 trailer, but it looks like it’s gonna be interesting!

—One thing’s for sure. Power Paige will definitely appear in the SRBA ‘verse. I just have to figure out what her backstory would be as well as her powers and what kind of fighting style she’d have. I know for sure it won’t be a sword—we already have four sword fighters in SRBA thus far (Super Why, Presto, Muse and Jackson).

—In Super Why news, I HAVE been working on the fifth chapter bit by bit, and I’d like to say that it’s about 65% finished. I don’t think it’ll be quite as long as the last update, but I don’t want to speak too soon ^^;

—I haven’t drawn anime in ages, not since I first started uploading on DeviantArt. And I admit, the pic that I’m going to post of Usagi isn’t the best..but you know what? Screw it! The only way I can improve is to practice, even if it’s wonky or incorrect! ^^

#hanna-barbera #the zula patrol #super why #sailor moon #pbs kids #ramblings

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fanartandfanfiction · 1 year

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The diary of Sebastian Sallow

Spoilers if you have not finished the main storyline.

Entry one: There’s a new fifth year! I’m excited to meet them, they must be pretty exceptional to be starting five years late. I tried to get Ominis to come introduce himself with me and he said he didn’t give a rat’s ass. Probably best they don’t meet him. He’s such a grouch nowadays.

Entry two: I have never been beaten so quickly in a duel. I’m both annoyed and amazed. They absolutely destroyed me, which would have made me feel bad, but I got to watch them fight Prewett too, that cocky Gryffindor. I can’t stand him. He spends all his time looking down his nose at other people. It was fun to watch him get knocked off his feet. I invited the new student to Crossed Wands to be my dueling partner. We’ll be unstoppable! Ominis will be happy to be relieved of his position, he hates dueling and only did it because I begged him to. For some reason I had difficulty finding a partner. I think it’s because they know they don’t hold a candle to me.

Entry three: We destroyed the competition at Crossed Wands! The new fifth year and I are becoming fast friends, much to Ominis’ chagrin. He doesn’t like them for some reason, though that doesn’t say much, he doesn’t like most people. The new fifth year had to go into Hogsmeade for supplies and Professor Weasley wanted someone to go with them. They chose me! We had a pretty good time, right up until some trolls decided to attack. The new fifth year is definitely hiding something, because for someone who’s missed four years of schooling, they destroyed those trolls in a matter of minutes. I saw them do some sort of wandless magic. I asked them about it and they claimed not to know what I was talking about and refused to offer any more details. Strange.

Entry four: It seems like every time I turn around, I’ve pissed Ominis off. The new fifth year needed a private place to practice their spells, so I showed them the undercroft. I know it’s technically Ominis, Anne, and I’s secret place, but I wanted to help out a friend in need. Of course Ominis lost his mind when he found out. He was furious with me and said it wasn’t my secret to tell. He wouldn’t listen to any sort of reason or explanation. He’s been different since Anne was cursed. I suppose I am too.

Entry five: Every letter I get from Anne breaks my heart. She tries to be cheerful but I know how miserable she is. She’s in so much pain every single day and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I thought maybe she’d enjoy making a new friend, so I brought the new student with me. Of course it wasn’t long before Uncle Solomon and I got into a huge fight. He thinks we should just give up on finding a cure for Anne. How could he just give up?! I’m not content to let my sister suffer. I’ll do whatever it takes to find a cure.

Entry six: I’m ecstatic! I’ve found Salazar Slytherin’s personal spellbook! It certainly wasn’t easy to get my hands on. I had heard a rumor of a secret scriptorium and asked Ominis to show it to me. He refused and said nothing good would come of it. I pleaded my case with the new fifth year, they seem to have a way with words. Sure enough, despite Ominis’ numerous arguments and complaints, he agreed to help us find it. I think he has a secret soft spot for the new fifth year, though I wouldn’t dare say that. It was a good thing Ominis was with us, because only a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin could open the scriptorium. Inside there was a series of tiring puzzles. The new fifth year seemed to enjoy them so I let them have at it. But then we got trapped in a room with the remains of Ominis’ Aunt Noctua. Written on the door was the word “crucio.” We had to cast the cruciatus curse on someone to open the door. I have never seen Ominis in such a state. He was screaming at us about what a mistake it was and that we were all going to die here. I asked him to cast it, since he already knew how to do it. He threw a hissy fit and refused. I think he was being rather selfish. I’d read how to cast the curse, so I offered to either cast it on the new student or have them cast it on me. They chose to have me cast it on them. I felt awful hearing both them and Ominis screaming, but it worked! The door opened and I explored the scriptorium and found the spellbook. I can’t wait to devour it!

Entry seven: I may have done it. I may have found a cure for Anne! The book describes an ancient relic that’s extremely powerful. I was able to procure it with the new student, but not without a tedious amount of work. Spiders, spiders, spiders. Totally boring and easily flammable. I got the relic and tried to leave but Ominis blocked our path. He said he wasn’t going to let me leave with it. I used my secret weapon again, and they somehow convinced Ominis to let us go. He’s totally pissed at me though. That’s fine, he can be pissed at me. I’m not giving up the opportunity to help Anne.

Entry eight: I feel so betrayed. I’m furious with the new student. I knew they had an ancient magic ability, I assumed it was just a way to fight and made them powerful. What I didn’t know is that they have the ability to take pain away. Instantly. And they never mentioned it! How much time have I wasted chasing after a cure when the cure was standing right next to me?! They refuse to do it, saying it’s too dangerous and they don’t want to repeat history. I say curing Anne is worth any price. And it’s not just that, they’ve been working with a GOBLIN! Even after they know a goblin cursed Anne! It’s clear that there’s no one I can count on by myself. I’ll do this alone if I have to.

Entry nine: Anne has agreed to meet me at the catacombs! Diary, this is my last entry before everything changes! Anne will be cured, she’ll come back to Hogwarts, and things will be normal again. Things are finally, finally turning around!

Entry ten: What have I done? How did it get so out of control? I didn’t even feel like myself anymore…

Anne had reservations about the relic, and apparently wrote Ominis. And Ominis wrote the new fifth year, and then they and Ominis were pursuing me. Anne went home. I’d cure her eventually, but first I wanted to play with my new power. It felt amazing, I felt stronger than I ever had before! I was able to control inferi. An army of the dead at my fingertips! But then Ominis and the new student had to intervene. They tried to get me to stop, I refused, and then Uncle Solomon showed up. He always ruins everything. Apparently Anne had told him what I was doing and he came to stop me, like he always does. He destroyed the relic and the Inferi turned on us. I was blinded with rage. The new student tried to reason with them and explain that they were also trying to stop me, but he wouldn’t listen. As we fought, I thought of every time he’d destroyed my hope, every time he’d crushed my spirit. Before I even realized what was happening, I’d done it. I cast the killing curse. I felt sick to my stomach. Anne apparated into the cave and screamed at me. It shattered what was left of my heart. With powerful magic I didn’t even know she could use, she fried all the Inferi and destroyed the spell book. Uncle Solomon is gone. Anne is gone. The spellbook and any hope for a cure is gone. What have I done? I’m supposed to meet Ominis and the new student in the undercroft to discuss what they’re going to do with me. I’m terrified of being sent to Azkaban, but I would deserve it. I’ve ruined everything.

Entry eleven: They spared me. I don’t know why, but they did. Even Anne. They said that I’d have to live with my own actions and that was punishment enough. And they’re right. I can’t close my eyes without seeing uncle Solomon collapsing to the floor, or Anne’s face, full of hatred for me. I see the looks of horror and disgust on Ominis and the new student’s faces. I’ve lost everything and everyone.

I decided to try and apologize to Anne, but she’s gone. She left me a letter saying she just couldn’t stay here anymore. She said she’d always love me but she could never forgive me. I’m in more pain than I ever thought imaginable. I either sob until I can’t anymore, or everything is numb. I spend most of my time wandering the halls. I rarely attend classes. What’s the point? How am I supposed to move on past this? Maybe they should have sent me to Azkaban. I’m already a prisoner in my own mind anyway.

#fanfic #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow story line #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

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what we were, what we are | part 2.

Summary: The worst thing that ever happened to Y/N Lupin was getting sent to Azkaban for a crime she didn’t commit. The second worst thing was when she got out on parole and not because her name was cleared. Trying to get her life back proves difficult when everyone has moved on into the present while she only has memories of the past.

Warnings for the Series: angst, smut

Pairing: james potter x black!reader, james potter x lupin!reader, sirius black x black!reader, sirius black x lupin!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

Your eyes opened in confusion at the feeling of movement. Wind was going by you but your own feet weren’t on the ground. James looked down when you made a grunt. In all the years away, his face of relief hadn’t changed.

“You can put me down now.”

“I think it’s best if you go see Mada—”

“I’m okay,” you cut him off. “They’ve been doing that since I’ve been in Azkaban.”

“What?”

James shook his head. No one really knew how Azkaban worked. All they knew was that the prison stopped dementors from running wild and wreaking havoc on the wizard and muggle world. He thought they were just prison guards, occasionally a death sentence if someone needed to receive the Dementor’s Kiss. He didn’t know that they fed on prisoners whenever they felt like it. You wiggled around until he was forced to set you down.

The air between the two of you was awkward before you started to walk away. You didn’t want to be there when James’ gaze turned hateful again. The shock of a dementor wasn’t going to keep him nice to you forever. Besides, you needed a new plan. Peter wasn’t going to be the easiest to spot on the map. As he watched you walk away, James paid attention to the changes in your appearance for the first time since you arrived at Hogwarts. Almost no life. That was the nicest way he could put it. Your curls, arguably one of his favorite parts about you when you were together, seemed limp. And they were a lot shorter than he remembered.

“It’s amazing, Moony has curls too,” James said as you laid your head down in his lap. It was time for another year at Hogwarts. Fifth year, arguably the worst because of OWLs.

Remus didn’t even look up from his reading. “Yeah, now we know they’re from Dad’s side of the family.”

Technically, you were Remus’ half-sister, not that anyone in the family would ever suggest it. Your mom struggled to have another kid after Remus until finally St. Mungo’s suggested a surrogate. The Lupins were all for it, wanting another kid more than anything. James gently played with your hair, careful not to tangle it as he did so. He felt pretty special. Unless you were in a very good mood, you wouldn’t even let Sirius or Peter play with your curls.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed the relaxing feel of his fingers. James loved the way you looked so peaceful that he didn’t even notice himself leaning down until his lips were on yours. As quickly as he kissed you was as quickly as he pulled away. You both looked around the small train compartment. None of the other boys had noticed.

The moment was only awkward for a brief bit as you made eye contact before you settled back down and let him continue to play with your hair.

You walked so fast once out of James’ arms that you didn’t notice Sirius and Remus coming out of the Great Hall. You didn’t even hear Remus call your name. He moved to follow you, the other two men right on his trail. Your door slammed abruptly in their faces. It would have been so easy to use Alohomora and open the door but they couldn’t bring themselves to do it. It felt like violating the little bit of privacy you had. It wasn’t like they couldn’t watch through all the classroom windows.

They watched you sit on the floor in front of your desk, staring at nothing. Remus couldn’t look anymore as the tears rolled down your face. He walked away with heavy footsteps. One thing Remus couldn’t stand as a big brother was to see you hurt.

“Sorry,” Remus muttered as he dabbed the wiggenweld cream on the cut near your chin.

You tried to say it’s okay but another hiss escaped your mouth. Remus screwed the lid on the cream tight.

“You aren’t coming with us anymore.”

“What?”

“It’s too dangerous, I won’t let you get hurt again.”

“Remmy.”

“Please. Please just listen to me (Y/N), I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I won’t come again. But I’m staying here until you all come back. No arguments.”

Remus just laughed. He knew there was no stopping you from taking care of him. You had always been that way since you guys were little.

You reluctantly made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. The house-elves finally refused to bring you food to eat in your classroom. You still had yet to answer a single question in Study Hall because you had yet to see a student.

You tried to shrink in on yourself as you walked into the Great Hall. Remus felt a tightness in his chest when you stopped in your tracks at seeing him walk towards you. The tremors that James had mentioned started by you just meeting your brother’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

Remus hugged you even tighter when the tremors continued. He escorted you over to your seat which already had breakfast put on a plate for you. Remus moved to sit next to you as well. For a moment, the two of you ate in just silence. You weren’t sure what to say and he wasn’t sure either.

For years, he hadn’t been a good brother and he knew that. He went over in his head the fact that he never even thought to visit you. Of course, he thought you were guilty but still. After seeing Peter’s name on the map, a single question crossed his mind.

“(Y/N), you didn’t… there wasn’t a trial, was there? Not a proper one?”

You shook your head. “After he threw the Unforgivable Curses at me, I stopped trying to save him. The last spell on my wand was the killing curse and before that it was stupefy.”

Remus simply nodded. That would be enough to look like you were responsible for killing Peter and blowing up the muggle neighborhood. His knee kept bouncing in anticipation. The letter should have been here already. He made sure to send it to Lily so she could fast track it in the Ministry. Remus wouldn’t have bothered telling the house-elves to not let you eat in your classroom if the letter wasn’t going to arrive.

“If you are worried about Miss Lupin not receiving a letter—”

“That isn’t the case.” Lyall Lupin cut Dumbledore off. “It’s just after Remus’… incident. He feels better in new places with his sister around. The two of them are very close. Is it possible to move her up? Let her start Hogwarts a year early?”

Even though your father said eavesdropping was rude, you and Remus both had your ears pressed against the door of Dumbledore’s office. Two small grunts escaped both of your mouths when you fell on the floor after the door abruptly swung open. Dumbledore had an amused smile on his face. Your father looked embarrassed. The old headmaster stood over the two of you.

“I think we very much have an extra space in first year for another Lupin.”

The owl arrived well into breakfast but at least it arrived. Your fingers trembled a bit as you picked up the letter that was dropped in your lap. You hadn’t had anything addressed to you since… well since your wedding to James. Remus immediately opened the letter for you.

Gently, you took the parchment back from him. He couldn’t say or do anything but feel guilty. If it took years for you to not doubt every move he made, he understood. The letter almost dropped from your hands. Your eyes scanned over the words, reading it multiple times.

The other two Marauders went to stand when you abruptly left but Remus held out a hand to stop them. A slight anger bubbled up in him at seeing the students cower and the staff reach for their wands when you sped out of the Great Hall. You came back in the best clothes that you owned which wasn’t saying much.

You didn’t exactly get paid for your Hogwarts work. The Ministry had given you enough for three outfits and two shoes when you left prison— and that was only for your spy duties. You had managed to make it stretch by going to secondhand stores but it still wasn’t a lot. And of course none of it fit properly. You were still finding it hard to gain your appetite back after constant dementor attacks. Grabbing the little canvas tote bag that you had bought, you raced back into the Great Hall. With excitement, you went straight up to Dumbledore.

“I have to cancel class.”

You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you showed him your Ministry letter. Of course, your students had been skipping all year and you suspected after winter break that they would still skip. However, you still felt that as a professor you should formally inform the Headmaster of needing to cancel class.

“I have a trial.”

The rest of the staff’s brows knitted in confusion. Who would be happy about a trial? You were about to say more when a pain ran through your arm. A pain that Severus no longer felt after he was discovered to be a double spy. It was the same pain that used to make James almost cry every time he saw the look of anguish on your face when you guys were home together. You pulled up the sleeve of your sweater for everyone to see the Dark Mark looking like a fresh tattoo.

The pain went away as soon as an owl dropped a letter in front of you. Your head shook as you opened it. You had a trial coming up that afternoon. The last thing you needed was Voldemort. You already knew that if contact with any Death Eaters was established then the Ministry would force you to spy.

A job that you never wanted again after it landed you in jail. Sirius, James, and Remus watched your face as you read over the letter. You looked back at Dumbledore.

“Never mind,” you said with a dejected whisper. “I have a letter to write instead.”

“May I ask what the letter is about?” Dumbledore asked.

“A meeting at Malfoy Manor… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named requests that I’d be there.”

Some of the staff scoffed. No one believed that you wouldn’t betray your plea deal with the Ministry. “Why is it so important that you were requested?”

You swallowed uncomfortably. It was a secret that you only ever shared with James because it was necessary for him to know. It was part of the reason that your ex-husband was able to move on so quickly after you were sent to Azkaban, rationalizing that he was the pawn and not Voldemort.

“Ah, ah.” You put a hand on James’ chest. “I refuse to let you kiss me until I’ve washed all traces of Voldemort from my mouth.”

James chuckled as he held his hands up in surrender. “You know, love, it was only so long you could avoid kissing him.”

“You don’t understand, Jamie. That was the most foul thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”

“Even worse than when w—”

“Any prank you boys pulled pales in comparison to what I just went through.”

James just chuckled. He walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you violently brushed your teeth. James pressed gentle kisses to the back of your neck. Of course, he hated the thought of Voldemort even breathing in your direction.

He hated seeing you nearly have an anxiety attack every time the Dark Mark burned on your arm. But he could only comfort you because even James had to admit that you were the spy giving the Order the best information they ever got since the war started.

You turned the envelope upside down and an unimpressive gold ring dropped out. You looked the staff member in the eye, tired of being seen as a mistrustful criminal.

“Because Tom Riddle would like to speak with his fiance about new plans to control the wizarding world. You can’t imagine the unspeakable things I did to try and keep everyone five steps ahead of Voldemort.”

You grabbed all your letters and shoved them into your little canvas bag. Like you suspected, the Ministry immediately put a hold on your trial. They told you that it would be rescheduled the moment Voldemort was captured or they felt like you were no longer needed. That didn’t make you feel better. You thought that it might never happen.

James couldn’t help it. He found himself waiting at your room door when you came back to the school, escorted by an Auror. He had always stayed up to wait for you to come home after having to be around Voldemort. You were a bit surprised to see him. He scratched at the back of his head when the Auror left.

“Moons and Padfoot were waiting too but—”

“Moony Night,” you said in understanding. “Shouldn’t you be with them?”

“I thought you might need a frie— I thought it would be nice if you had someone to talk with. Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah, thanks, James.”

He let you lead the way to the kitchen. His hand awkwardly hung in the air, unsure of whether to place itself on your shoulder or stay by his side. In the end, he settled for staying by his side. James directed you to sit down while he made a drink.

“Do you still like your hot chocolate with the double firewhiskey shot?”

“I don’t know.”

He stopped pouring the hot chocolate into mugs. “You don’t… you don’t know?”

“I don’t remember how most things taste. The dementors feed on those memories first.”

“Do you not remember a lot of things?”

“I don’t remember anything about being eight and our second year at Hogwarts is completely gone from my mind. A lot of things have patches here and there, memories that are just missing chunks.”

James didn’t know what to say. He was thankful when Sirius and Remus stumbled in, pouring out two more cups of hot chocolate for them. The sips from the four of you were loud before Sirius couldn’t take it anymore.

“(Y/N), when you said unspeakable things…” he trailed off.

“He’s never touched me, not like that,” you said. “He’s gotten close but… Voldemort would never give half the information I gave the Order to a random Death Eater. I’m just thankful he’s a bit old-fashioned.”

You finished the rest of your hot chocolate and jumped down from your stool. Sirius reached for your wrist.

“Everyone’s staying at our place for Christmas. Would you like to come over?”

“Our place? Are you and Remus still roommates?”

The two of them chuckled and nodded. They had moved out a few times but always ended up returning to Grimmauld when they either didn’t want to live alone anymore or were no longer in a relationship. You nodded tentatively.

The smile you gave never reached your eyes. It was something that the Marauders noticed quickly. You had a hard time conveying any emotion that wasn’t sadness. Anger was a bit better but still.

“Um, I’ll see if I can slip away from Tom for a bit. I guess he won’t mind if he thinks it’s just Remus.”

You clutched your ears as the portrait of Walburga Black began yelling. Sirius came running from around the corner, already tipsy, and put the curtain back over the portrait.

“Sorry, I’m late,” you said but he just shook it off.

The group of people there for Christmas was larger than you expected. Sirius, Remus, the Potters, the Weasleys, and the Longbottoms. Hermione was also there after celebrating Christmas early with her parents so she could be there. Like a reflex, you showed everyone that you were setting your wand down on a side table out of reach and took refuge in a large fluffy chair in the corner of the room. Sirius handed you a butterbeer and some Christmas cookies. He moved back over to Remus.

“Maybe inviting her was a bad idea. She seems… overwhelmed to put it lightly. And everyone but Prongs is still staring at her.”

Remus solemnly agreed. Gently, he coaxed you out of the armchair to at least sit on the floor and help decorate gingerbread houses with everyone else. The frown that briefly crossed your face when the kids scooted away wasn’t missed by your brother. Remus sat next to you, hoping that his interaction with you might encourage the rest of their guests. Even after the letters Lily was still weary of you. She told Remus that she would wait until your trial before making any changes in behavior or mindset. He reached for some icing.

“Do you remember when we were twelve and we made Hogwarts out of gingerbread? I don’t think we’ve ever made anything more impressive… (Y/N), what’s the matter?”

“I don’t remember any of that.”

Remus cleared his throat. Right, dementors. He should have let you bring up memories rather than him recalling something you might have no knowledge of anymore. You took the icing from your brother’s hand and began to build a gingerbread house. Everyone else was finished way before you, able to use magic.

You hadn’t even moved when it was time for dinner— after telling Molly that you weren’t hungry, Remus quickly escorted everyone into the dining room to leave you alone. At random intervals, each of the three Marauders would get up to check on you. You were still working on the gingerbread house that got more intricate every time they entered the living room.

You entered the dining room before any of the men got a chance to check up on you once more. All of the guests watched you scratched at your arm where the Dark Mark was hidden under your shirt sleeve.

“I think I should leave now.”

“O-okay.” Remus nodded.

You didn’t go up to hug him before racing out of the house. None of them knew the reason you had been so quiet the entire night. Nervous was an understatement. The Ministry promised you that they were going after Voldemort that night. You had laid out the perfect seeds over the past weeks. They should have been able to capture him and all his followers. Even if they didn’t catch a single Death Eater, they were supposed to be able to capture Voldemort.

You didn’t want to say anything to anyone in case it didn’t happen. And you were also scared to return to a Malfoy Manor that might have a Tom Riddle angry with you rather than captured.

(Part 3)

#sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x black!reader #james potter x black!reader

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jukeboxjackal · 2 years

Text

Study Buddy pt. 3

Jock! Carol Danvers x fem reader

Warnings: cursing?

Description: more feelings arise after all seven days of studying are up

A/n: sorry for the long wait! I’ve just been busy as of lately and I lost some motivation. This will be the LAST part of this series. It was great writing this!

The rest of you and Carols studying days went on okay. However, what you didn’t expect was to start actually liking her.

You see, the second day you both actually had a decent conversation. And then the third day went on and that was when you both kept laughing so much you both couldn’t breathe. And the fourth day was when she opened up about herself, and you did too. And by the time the fifth day came, you didn’t want to leave. And when the sixth day came across, you started forgetting about your ex and starting thinking about a life with Carol. And then finally, the seventh day came. That’s when you two kissed. Fuck. That’s when you insisted on going back home by yourself, sure it took 26 minutes but whatever.

‘Dammit, dammit, dammit!’ Those words kept repeating in your head as you ran home. That’s where we are right now. Currently, it is 1:38 pm on a Sunday and you are on your doorstep. Shakily taking out your key, you ran up to your room without even bothering to close your door. ‘Fuckk!’ You yelled into your pillow. Thankfully, your parents wouldn’t be home till an hour or so.

You didn’t mean for this to happen. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳. Her as in Carol Fucking Danvers.

Finally calming down, you shut your door and hopped in bed in silence. Well almost silence. Since Carol kept blowing up your phone.

#1 Study Buddy

Hey u ok?

Did I do something?

Please answer

Y/N please

Hey

Call me? I want to know what I did wrong

You let out a giggle/ snort combination as you saw the name she insisted on for her contact. But then you read the messages. Over and over. Finally putting on your big girl pants, you called her. She answered on the first ring. “Hey (Y/N) what did I do? Are you okay? I’m sorry?-“

You cut her off. “No, Carol, it’s me. Fuck, I- I didn’t mean for this to happen” you knew she was listening intently as you continued. “I don’t know why, but this feels so wrong yet so so right at the same time. I just, I just don’t know.”

“(Y/N) you know what else feels so wrong but so right? Me saying this. I love you. I’ve liked you since forever. I just wanted you to pay attention to me and see me for who I am, not just that one asshole jock.” You laughed at that, but then you took in what she said. “You serious?” You said. “The most I have been in my entire life.” she replied. “Come pick me up” was all you said, before hanging up.

And sure enough, in around 7 minutes, she was there. You could barely open the door before she tackled you into a hug. “Please, make this last forever.” You hugged her back in silence. Until she broke it saying “Will you be my girlfriend?” To which you replied with a kiss and an “I’ve been waiting.”

———

The next day came and you and your new girlfriend came into class hand in hand about 10 minutes early. “So I see my plan worked.” Mrs. Griffin said. “I am pleasantly surprised.” You and Carol smiled, because her plan did work. Now you both got along better than ever. “We’re ready for the test” Carol said confidently. “Oh yeah, that test is next week. I only said that it was today because I was tired of how you both acted towards each other.” And with a grin, she walked walked away.

“I-“ you said as Carol laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” “And plus, we can spend the rest of this week getting to know each other better” Carol said with a smirk. “Like what?” You said suspiciously. “Movies tonight?”

“Of course.”

#marvel imagines #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers x female reader #jock!carol #open requests

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huggybearsunshine · 2 years

Text

The Few Things: Wedding Day

[Sequel to my series called The Few Things]

A/N: I wasn’t going to write a follow up unless the story really did it justice, and I thought this did. So, hopefully you enjoy it! Link to the original at the bottom!

“What if we rushed this?” Dean adjusted his tie for the fifth time in as many minutes, “What if Cas realized we rushed this and he doesn’t show?”

“Dean, you’ve known each other for over a decade and lived together for years… I don’t think you need to worry about anything feeling rushed…”

“He should be here though, right?” Dean watched as their family began to walk in and find seats for themselves among the litany of mismatched chairs.

Jody blew him a kiss as she and Donna grabbed two of the less rickety chairs from the hodgepodge arranged around the barn.

Dean smiled but suddenly snapped his gaze back to Sam.

“What if Claire got them into something?”

“Dean, breathe,” Sam raised an eyebrow at him, “I’m sure everything is fine.”

Eileen was still adjusting the string lights they had hung up when the rest of the guests filed in.

The space quickly filling with beaming faces, and Dean’s expression softened as he scanned them until he found the one he was looking for.

Blue eyes at the back of the barn captured his as Claire and the Angel slipped in.

Claire wore a gray suit and Cas was looking better than anyone had a right to in all black.

The hunter found it hard to swallow and mortifyingly enough, his vision was clouding over.

He noticed Jody’s eyes on him as Cas began walking toward him, but he couldn’t pull his focus away if he’d wanted to.

He reached Dean, taking a hand in his and kissing Dean’s knuckle as he settled into the spot across from him.

“Hello, Dear,” Cas squeezed his hand as he lowered it between them.

“I was worried you weren’t coming,” the hunter admitted as Claire took her spot next to Cas, grinning from ear to ear as her eyes met with Kaia’s in the crowd.

“I just had to make sure Jack was ready,” his thumb caressed Dean’s hand within his own.

“Here. Ready!” Jack appeared next to them with a smile spreading high up onto his face.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean embraced him warmly before Sam and Cas could do the same, “Thought you were going to be hands off?”

“I made an exception,” the young God softened, “I couldn’t miss this.”

“Glad you did,” Dean ran a hand over his mouth to try and hide the emotion washing over his face, “Wouldn’t have felt right without you.”

“Okay, before I forget the words,” Jack stood taller.

“Aren’t you omniscient now?” Dean smirked and was promptly swatted by the former Angel next to him, “Sorry, do what you gotta do…”

“Okay,” Jack took a steadying breath before his eyes rose to the group watching them, barely a dry eye already, “Welcome, everyone. We have met here today to honor my fathers,” he beamed, “My fathers and the love that they share.”

Castiel’s pride was nearly palpable and also contagious as Dean found his eyes misting over again.

He never would have agreed to doing the whole ceremony thing if he’d known how much of an emotional wreck he was going to be the whole time.

Cas must have noticed too as he felt another squeeze to the hand he still held in his own.

“Dean, would you like to share your vows now?” he found Jack’s gentle yet encouraging eyes on him.

“Yeah, right…” Dean was dreading this part the most but Cas wrote something, pinning him into a corner to either have to write his own or look like a jerk.

He coughed and scratched the back of his neck, pulling a laugh from a few of the guests and Dean eyed them quickly in playful warning.

“Cas,” his eyes returned and he tried to shake off his anxiety, “You managed to get me up here doing the thing I’m worst at, so- thanks for that,” he smirked as Cas’ smile climbed up his cheeks, “And I gotta admit, the idea of talking about how I feel about you like this was terrifying… But then again, you’ve been terrifying me from the start. All stoic and self-righteous.”

“This is supposed to be sweet,” Cas’ face dropped and more of their friends laughed.

“I’m getting there,” Dean winked, “But yeah, I understand why you wanted to do this… ‘cause truth is, I don’t say what’s on my mind enough, and I sure as hell haven’t said enough to you about how incredible you are or how my life without you feels like, well, nothing…” he looked down to let a tear drip off of his cheek and heard Claire sniffling over Cas’ shoulder, “I love you so much, Cas. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but thank you for always seeing the good in me… thank you for taking the time to look for it.”

Dean looked down before his eyes rose again and a supportive nudge from his brother had him clearing his throat to continue.

“I’ve never been convinced that I deserve this, but I’m going to try to every day for the rest of our lives because that’s what you deserve.”

He finally turned to see Jack’s sweet smile aimed toward him.

He nodded and Jack returned the motion.

“Castiel, would you like to share your vows now?” the boy asked with a raised brow, and Cas nodded as his eyes dropped to his feet nervously.

“Dean,” he handled the word as if it were sacred and let it linger like it deserved its own sentence, “I didn’t know what love was before I met you… even after I started to feel it,” his brow furrowed adorably as he spoke, “In fact, I think you and I were the last to realize what it was that was happening to us…”

“Other than Jody,” Dean glanced teasingly toward her.

“Other than Jody,” Cas agreed adoringly, “But I didn’t realize the significance of my feelings for you until it was too late. My heart was so full of you I could hardly call it my own,” he softened, reaching for Dean’s cheek.

“Cas,” Dean melted into the touch.

“You taught me many things, Dean,” Cas’ eyes watered as he spoke, glassing over more and more with each word, “But learning how to love, learning how to fall in love with you… has been the most life-altering and precious experience of my existence.“

“Damn…” Dean looked at Cas as if there were no one else in the room but them, “I thought my speech was good…”

“Not a speech, Dean,” Cas’ lips tilted up, “A vow.”

“Right,” he absentmindedly inched forward, lost in Cas’ teary, blue eyes.

“Might wanna get rings on them or they’re going to skip the next few parts,” Sam joked with Jack, who grinned brightly.

Dean looked over his shoulder quickly before letting out a soft laugh and accepting the ring Sam slapped against his chest in fond amusement.

Cas thanked Claire quietly before the two were facing one another again.

They slipped them onto the other’s finger with little showmanship. Just a simple action bringing a warm smile to their faces as they did it.

“I pronounce you married,” Jack announced excitedly, “You may kiss now.”

They laughed as they each stepped in, reaching forward and finding the other going willingly into the embrace. Their lips met and the sound of cheers and whistles blurred their senses for a short moment of absolutely indulgent happiness.

Dean was glowing as he pulled back, and in a sudden need to be close to him, found himself leaning in to wrap an arm around Cas’ waist.

“I love you,” he whispered into the Angel’s ear softly before kissing him on the cheek and turning toward his family’s awaiting gaze, “Let’s fucking celebrate!”

“Alright,” Sam clapped him on the shoulder.

“Drinks!” he threw his arms up.

“Okay, what are you? A Viking?” Sam laughed as he pushed passed to grab drinks for the wedding party.

Dean turned to the most open emotion he had ever seen in the Angel’s eyes.

“Don’t cry,” Dean laughed, “I’ve been barely holding it together this whole time!”

“Can I just…” Cas looked overwhelmed, “Can I kiss you again?”

“Cas, you’re my husband,” Dean wrapped his arms around him, “I don’t think you really have to ask.”

As soon as the words fell, Cas shot forward, and Dean’s hands settled over the former Angel’s face, barely containing a smile as they kissed.

“I love you,” the hunter whispered as their lips parted, foreheads bumping together lightly.

He couldn’t seem to stop saying it, but judging by Cas’ expression, that wasn’t a problem for him.

“I love you too,” Cas reached for the back of his neck, tilting up to press a small peck to the other man’s temple before reluctantly stepping back.

“Okay, here we go,” Sam announced as he ascended the makeshift stage and began handing out drinks.

“I’d like to say a few things,” Sam addressed the group awkwardly, brows raising upward to give him a nervous sort of boyish look, “Dean and Cas have always excelled at nonverbal communication-”

“We don’t stare that much!” Dean interrupted, but Sam was ready.

“Yes, you do,” he brushed him off quickly, “And watching that for years, I have picked up on something about them,” he looked back at the pair fondly, “No one sees Dean like Cas does, and I hope I don’t sign my own death warrant saying this, but,” he looked straight at his brother as he added, “I think that’s exactly what Dean has always needed. Someone to see through the mask and the bravado and just… see the real him,” Sam took a few steps to the other side of the stage, “I won’t lie, Cas and I were slower to build- mostly because I was… we’ll just say ‘not my best’, but I couldn’t ask for a better brother-in-law, a better friend… He’s always brought out the best in Dean, always believed in him- sometimes when no one else did… sometimes when no one else would- but that’s what always got him where he needed to be. It’s no secret that Dean and I have been through it. We don’t get many good things and when we do, we rarely get to keep them,” his eyes found Eileen’s and she smiled softly, “Love was never something either of us allowed ourselves to want, but we somehow got there anyway, and I don’t think I ever said it, but I want to thank you, Cas- thank you for loving my big brother and for never giving up on him,” he locked eyes with the misty, blue gaze and a tear slipped down his own cheek unguarded, “To Cas, and to Dean, and to finally using your damn words…”

He chuckled as he held his glass up, first to the couple then toward the rest.

“Cheers,” he added with a quick flash of a smile before the drink rising to his lips obscured it.

“And to everyone’s horror- especially my own- it’s my turn,” Claire grimaced and the rest laughed, “Ughhh I should kill you for this…” she flashed a quick and exaggeratedly fake smile their way.

Turning back to the page in her hand, she cleared her throat, “I like to credit myself for Cas and Dean getting their heads out of their asses. Not only did I literally push them into their first kiss-“

“We don’t count that one!” Dean laughed.

“You’ve got the picture in your wallet, don’t lie,” she shot back, “Anyway, not only did I do that, but I’m pretty sure I got them together, and then I blackmailed Dean into proposing while I was still visiting instead of waiting. So, really, this should be a celebration for me finally getting these two to stop making googly-eyes and do something about it!” everyone laughed and she turned to them with a growing sincerity, “But honestly, I’ve never seen either of you this happy before, and it’s just crazy to be here after everything…”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean met her gaze with understanding as Cas tightened his hold around the hunter’s waist.

“To Cas and Dean,” she shook off the emotion brewing within and turned a toothy smile to the rest before downing her whole drink.

Charlie started up some music from a sound system in the corner and Dean turned a cocky smirk toward Cas.

“Ready to dance?” his voice dropped low, pulling an adoring gaze from the other man.

“I told you, I didn’t want to,” Cas sighed, “But I can’t deny my husband on our wedding day…”

Dean pulled him in as they reached the area of the barn behind the seating that was cleared.

“I love hearing you say that,” he practically growled into Cas’ ear.

“Mmm,” Cas hummed, “We have a long time until we make it back home, getting worked up now would be torture.”

“Who said I was getting worked up?” Dean grinned as they swayed to the music.

“I was referring to myself,” Cas gravelled.

“Well, now I’m getting worked up,” Dean’s eyes glinted mischievously.

“Hold that thought,” Cas leaned in, pressing his lips to Dean’s for a moment as they continued to move slowly, getting lost in their own world until the music stopped and the group clapped joyously around them.

The next hour was a bit of a blur as everyone approached the pair to wish them well or what was more often the case, tease them a bit, until they found themselves seated at a table together. Their fingers were laced and Dean’s arm was slung around Cas’ shoulder.

“What are you thinking?” he asked as the former Angel rubbed circles on his hand with his thumb.

“I’m just trying to take it all in,” Cas found his gaze, “I don’t want to forget anything…”

“You don’t forget things,” Dean’s lips pressed softly to Cas’ shoulder.

“I’m human now, though…” his voice quieted, “I just don’t want to forget any of this…”

The look in his eye was so earnest and sweet, but twinged at the corners with actual fear. Dean found himself looking around.

“Patience! Alex!” he called to the girls seated nearby, “Got your phones?”

The two nodded and fished them out of their bags.

“Cool,” he nodded with a sideways smile, “Film everything…”

The pair of girls jumped up with a purpose as Cas’ eyes cut toward him in surprise.

“If you start to forget, we’ll have it to watch…” Dean remarked softly, “As many times as you want.”

“Dean,” the former Angel melted.

“Now, come on…” he pulled the other to his feet, “Let’s dance.”

———————

@spuffy-destiel Thank you so much for your help with this! I wouldn’t have posted it without your encouragement and ideas! My forever muse! 💚@destieliscanon5nov

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cherryeol04 · 1 year

Text

Action! | Ch. 12

Genre: Humor, Romance, Slice of life?, Crackheadedness

Pairings: BaekRen, MinRon

Work Count: 1.8K

Summary: From the moment he was casted, Ren wasn't sure if he had what it would take to be a pop idol. Losing faith in himself, he was going to give up the future he had always wanted, but one person stood by his side and renewed his faith. After a hot debut and rapid growth of stardom, Ren started to notice that maybe this person, his close friend, was something more. But how could a straight man even remotely think of a homosexual relationship?

Warnings: Homophobia, some smut (chapters will be marked)

A/N: I wrote this series back in 2012 and used OCs and over the top writing style for arguments. Whoops. Lmao it’s pretty decent though, so I hope you enjoy!

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Baekho’s POV

This was the fifth time we got to this verse, the fifth time the song went off without a hitch until now, and the fifth time that Ren and I had to pick JR off the floor. It was a complicated dance move. Well not so much as complicated as much as it had everything to do with trusting the members behind him. And JR trusted everyone in the group, but for some reason, when it came to this, he just didn’t have faith.

“We can’t keep doing this.” Ren said. “If you keep falling, we’ll never get through this song. And if that happens, our dance will have to be re-worked and I don’t want to change half the steps when I’ve just got them down.” He scolded our leader lightly, pouting.

“It’s not my fault!” JR said and turned to the other two. “Why can’t you two catch me?”

“We do!” Minhyun said. “But then you get all nervous, you buckle and fall on your own.”

“Yeah, we can only do so much before we have to let you go. You try to take us down with you.” Aron said, shaking his head.

“Well that wouldn’t be an issue if-“

“Alright!” I called and sighed. I felt a headache coming on. I usually go to them when we all get into arguments. I hate arguing with the others. It destroys a little bit of the foundation of friendship our group is based upon each time. “Look, let’s just all take a break.” I suggested. “We’ll re-group and try again.”

“Who made you the leader?” JR growled, glaring at me. Damn, what was up with that? Why was he acting so strange? Ever since that night talking with Minhyun, it seemed no one had been the same, but at the same time, everyone acted as if nothing happened. It was confusing the hell out of me. The only person who acted normal was Ren, thankfully.

“No one! But when you’re so upset like this, someone has to take charge until you can calm down.” I said, staring him down. Our eyes locked for a long while before he finally broke away and turned, leaving the room.

“Wow.” Minhyun whispered, shaking his head. “I mean, there have been times where I’ve forgotten to hold out my arms.” He said gently.

“And sometimes I’m a little slow too.” Aron admitted.

“Look everyone is at fault.” I said.

“How are we at fault?” Ren asked.

“Well, remember the second attempt. We did our part a little too long, so JR hit us as he went forward.”

“Oh yeah.” Ren said and nodded.

“So let’s not fight about this anymore alright? This is a hard song, with a powerful message. We need to get the steps right before we come back. We can do this.” They all smiled, agreeing with me. Ren often shared with me how much he thought I should be the leader. Though I often thought I could make a good leader, I didn’t want to be. JR was an awesome leader as it was; he just sometimes forgot his role when he got worked up.

“Alright, break time!” Ren cheered, rushing from the room to do god knows what. He was cute, I would give him that. But I’m pretty sure someone slipped him sugar and I gave Minhyun that knowing look.

“It wasn’t me. I swear!” Minhyun said and grinned.

“Right.” I said and shook my head, making my way over to my bag, digging out the water bottle I had brought with me. It was going to be another long day.

~*~*~

~A Few Hours Later~

“One, two, three, four.” JR counted. There was no music playing. After several more attempts, it was clear to all of us that we would need to do more than just practice with the music. Something was going wrong with the choreography. So we were back to square, counting the steps as we moved.

“Five, six, seven, eight. And one, two, three” His counting died down when, for the first time, we finally got him thrown back and forward correctly. We broke out in cheers and moved into a group hug. It was such a huge accomplishment on our part. Now how come we couldn’t get it done with the music?

“Great job everyone.” Manager-hyung called as he moved from his spot in the corner. “You did an excellent job working this out.” He told us. Pulling apart, we bowed to him, giving our thanks for his praise and stood at attention, ready to take any advice he had to give us.

“You’re still having issues with the dance put with music correct?” he asked. We looked at each other before nodding.

“Alright, well, I thought I would bring in someone who could help you with that.”

“Our dance instructor?” Aron asked.

“No. Well not your dance instructor, a different one.” Manager-hyung said. He moved back to the door and opened it. We all leaned to the right, eager to see who our hyung had brought in to help us. There was nothing for a moment, building up the anticipation.

“Hello.” Voices greeted as a small group of five walked in and bowed to us. It took a moment for me to recognize the men. I had only seen them once, and that was when they were doing their goodbye stage, and we had done our comeback stage for Face. It was Love Defenders sunbae. They stood before us and bowed, and we returned the bow.

“Protecting innocent hearts, we’re Love Defenders.” They greeted, each making a heart with their hands.

“Show Time Nu’est Time! We are Urban Electro Band Nu’est!” We greeted each other with a bow.

“Boys, I actually was bringing in only one member, but when I got in contact with their manager, they had been in the middle of shooting, so they all came together.” Manager-hyung said before turning to the other members. “Please introduce yourself.” They nodded and grinned.

“Hello, my name is JaeMin and I’m lead rapper.” The tallest boy spoke, bowing.

“Hello, my name is Kai and I’m leader and main dancer.” Kai looked a bit mean, especially wearing those black glasses.

“Hello, my name is Chiko and I’m the maknae and vocals.” The shortest greeted, giving us his cutest smile. He was adorable, but not as adorable as my Ren. ‘My Ren? When has Ren become mine? You’re losing it Baekho.’

“Hello, my name is Kouji and I’m responsible for visual and sub vocal.” The older looking male responded, bowing to us. He was odd looking, but he seemed nice.

“Hello, my name is Adrian and I'm the main vocalist and visual.” The last greeted and bowed to us, smiling. “Oh, and I’m in charge of international conversations.” He said, speaking perfect English, like Aron did.

“Alright! Another foreigner!” Aron cheered happily. He was a silly hyung. I could picture him and Minhyun together. Two goofy people together. It would be interesting to say the least, because Aron was interesting.

We looked to our manager, wondering if we should do our own introductions, but he shook his head and continued on.

“Love Defenders is a big fan of yours.” He said and smiled. “And they have offered to help you with your dance steps.”

“Actually, Adrian-hyung is going to help you.” Chiko said and smiled at us. “He creates all of our dances and has even worked with other groups.”

“It’s nothing special.” Adrian said and waved his hand. “I like dancing.” He answered. “So, let’s not waste any time alright? I want to see you practice.” He told us.

“Alright.” JR agreed. He nodded to the rest of us and we moved into position as the group moved to the side, taking seats on the floor. Our manager manned the stereo, starting our song. I wasn’t nervous. The first half always went well. It was the second half I was nervous about. We were half way through the second chorus, nearing the part we all dreaded when the music suddenly stopped. We turned and watched as Adrian approached.

“We actually were watching you practice without the music.” He admitted. “And you all did well from what I could tell. But your practice is actually at a slower rate than with music.” He explained. “I think that’s what’s wrong. The tempo of the counting isn’t fast enough.”

“That really has an effect on our dancing?” Minhyun asked. He was so intent on learning, and I was too. Adrian-hyung seemed so versed in the art of dance. It made me wonder how long he had been training.

“Yes it does. Because if you’re used to a slow tempo, suddenly adding a faster pace will mess you up. And I noticed that JR actually stumbled a bit through the chorus.” He said before smiling. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve noticed all of you stumble slightly, but this is the part you’re having trouble on right?” he asked. We nodded. This was the bad part, but now we knew, we all were having trouble.

“Alright then. I can help, but please understand that I mean no ill harm.” He said and bowed to us. We bowed back and smiled.

“Of course hyung. We’re eager to get this right.” I said and nodded.

“Great. So first, I’ll do the slow count JR had earlier, then I’ll pick up the tempo. Afterwards, I think individual help would be beneficial.” He said and glanced at our manager who nodded.

“Whatever needs to be done.” Manager-hyung said. Adrian nodded and looked back at us.

“Alright, starting from the second chorus.” He said as he moved around us to stand in front of the mirrors. “One, two, three, four.” He started counting. We started dancing easily, encountering not a single glitch. He stopped and we paused, staring at him.

“Taking it from the top of the second chorus, I’m going to do it at a faster pace. Ready, here we go.” He said and started. “One and two and three and four.” He counted. “Five and six and seven and eight.” He said, even snapping along. I had to admit, this was a much faster pace he was counting to than what JR had been doing. It was almost in sync with the music of our song too. And like what happened with the music, we stumbled and Ren tripped, falling.

“Are you alright?” Adrian asked, moving to him. He stared down at Ren and the other looked up at him. They shared this look and I couldn’t help the low growl that left my lips. I don’t know why I did that, but it felt like Adrian was moving in on my territory.

‘What? Ren wasn’t a piece of property? Why would I think that? Not like he was like that anyway. Get a grip Baekho!’

“I’m fine.” Ren said as he took Adrian’s outstretched hand and stood. Adrian nodded and smiled at him before looking back at the others.

“And this is exactly why you need more practice with the faster pace before adding the music.” He said.

“Hyung.” Minhyun said. “Please teach us. We have so much to learn.”

“Please, help us be our best.” JR added.

“It’ll be my pleasure! But please, call me Adrian. I hate feeling old.” Adrian teased and smiled.

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alekx · 1 year

Text

The Sunday Currently, vol. 2

Belated Happy Halloween, but not really because this is my least favorite holiday :-(

Anyway, I am overdue for an update and I thought of posting a second installment to my own version of Sidda Thornton’s The Sunday Currently series. I needed something I wouldn’t be able to make excuses about, and this was perfect. I don’t need to prepare a lot of photos nor do I need to organize a draft. Just pure updates on my consumption. Here goes…

reading

I am currently reading Jose Rizal’s Noli Me Tangere. Last June, I finally found a copy of the Soledad Lacson-Locsin translation. We all read Noli in high school, but I didn’t pay as much attention back then. Years later, I read Benedict Anderson’s review of this translation as part of my research for “The Spectre of Comparison” when MCAD brought the show to Manila. I liked his notes on the novel, and I’ve been hunting for a copy ever since.

Before this, I finished Alain de Botton and John Armstrong’s Art as Therapy. I am also currently reading Vogue Philippines and currently subscribed to Art & Market. I try to check Katy Hessel’s column on The Guardian though I am not doing a very good job of keeping up. Current unread count as of writing: 427. Nope. Make that 436.

listening

“To You” and “Second Life” by SEVENTEEN, “Maniac” by NCT U (but really it’s just Doyoung and Haechan), “Forever Only” by Jaehyun, and “Designer” by NCT 127 if we go by my Spotify On Repeat playlist as of writing. “To You” is my favorite in Attacca, “Designer” in 2 Baddies, but it’s “Lie Again” that I like the most in Ode to You.

I watched The Link when 127 came here last month and I heard the iconic “Back 2 U” with my own ears. Everyone’s vocals are top notch that night from start to end. Taeil exists, guys, and his voice really sounds like in the songs if not better!!! 127 as a whole is so vocally stable from start to finish, and you get this sense that they really trained so hard as performers.

Sadly, I didn’t get to watch Seventeen’s Be The Sun concert, and I also missed beabadobee’s. Boooo!

Finally, I also gave Greasy Cafe’s TECHNICOLOR a recent listen. I am obsessed with the music video for “Time Bomb” partly because it’s interesting, but also partly because I like Mark Prin and Mew.

watching

I finished half of Gilmore Girls’ second season before taking a break from the series. I also finished Romance is a Bonus Book, which I loved. It’s going on my list of favorites.

I looooooved “Insula” from Fifth Wall Fest. The dance was so electric and the cinematography was just as exciting.

Because I’m reading Noli, I also decided to watch Maria Clara at Ibarra. I love Dennis Trillo as Crisostomo Ibarra and I enjoy Barbie Forteza as Klay. Padre Salvi’s character still gives me the creeps.

I also watch the local adaptation of Start-Up occasionally. I do think Seo Dal-mi could have been played by a different actress.

Lastly, Doctor Who is going to be on Disney+???? Aaaaah! I didn’t really want to get a subscription, but this is making me reconsider.

loving

My skincare routine! I think I’ve found a really good routine and it has been working so well for me for months now.

feeling

…excited, because I’m starting two projects soon that I’m really excited about. One is an actual project thing that I don’t really want to talk about until it’s over and one is a project I’ve been meaning to start for myself, which I also don’t want to talk about until I’ve finished. All you need to know is that I am excited and keeping busy.

#lists #the sunday currently

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hpimaginesandblurbs · 3 years

Note

wait draco fucking his arranged marriage wife on a couch after she admitted to still seeing her ex (not knowing he has feelings for her obviously) and he’s like oh? can he fuck you like this tho?

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

warning(s): 18+, adultery, arranged marriage, slight degradation

word count: 3.0k

a/n: this was not supposed to be this long but it ran away from me as i started writing. this is the longest thing i’ve written on tumblr so far and i hope you all enjoy it! one of my own person favorites.

Another day felt like another day wasted in the walls in the stuffy Manor you called home. Except it wasn’t home. And it wasn’t another day.

No. After weeks of trying to get your husband to open up to you, you had had enough. It was an arranged marriage, and although you were no fool and had no pretenses of pretending to love him, you’d at least like to get to know the person you called your husband.

Back in school you had always thought the infamous Draco Malfoy was rather handsome, anyone would be a fool to deny it. He was confident and popular, great at Quidditch, and seemed like the perfect gentleman - everything you could want in a husband. Turns out it was the opposite. All the feelings you thought you might develop for him were unrequited, and he ignored you at every turn.

So you took it into your own hands to get what you were so desperately craving: physical affection. It didn’t take much, truly. All you did was send an owl to your ex boyfriend from your school days and one thing led to another until you were in his bed, wrapped in his arms, and rocked to your core with pleasure.

But now you were back in your ‘home’, wasting away within the walls of the Manor with your husband nowhere to be found.

It wasn’t until hours later, when you were getting ready to push yourself up from the couch to head to bed, did the fireplace flash green, signaling his arrival home.

“Hello. How was your day?” You asked politely, hoping just this once he might fall into a normal conversation with you.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not even bothering to look at you as he emptied his pockets and put down his very important briefcase that was a mystery to you.

A blaze of frustration ran through your body, desperate to get more out of this man than just one word. A crazy thought came into your head, to tell him about your day, but you pushed it aside. No, Malfoy’s wouldn’t think highly of a girl who committed adultery within weeks of marriage. But…

“My day was great,” you told him, rather impulsively.

At first he seemed shocked that you even said anything, the conversation usually reached its end by now. But he recovered quickly, politely asking “And what was so great about your day?”

Naturally, you could lie. Tell him you met up with your female friends for lunch. Tell him you read a good book. Tell him anything but the truth. But…

“I reacquainted myself with my ex boyfriend from school,” you told him, daring to look him in the eye as you spoke.

“Reacquainted? How?” He asked, a series of emotions flashing over his face that you had never seen before. It sent a thrill through you to see him showing any emotions at all.

Again, you could lie. Tell him you met him for lunch. Tell him that you ran into each other in Diagon Alley. Tell him anything but the truth. But…

You knew even if the truth did come out, he would have to keep it a secret. He wouldn’t dare be seen as a spineless cuckold as his wife went around sleeping with whomever she pleased.

“I owled him a few days ago, asking to meet him,” you began, watching as his face contorted into something akin to anger. “I went to his home, for lunch, and it didn’t end with lunch.”

You left the end of your short story rather ambiguous, wanting to see what he’d do with the information you presented him. He had barely moved from his place by the fireplace, but the look he was giving you could set you up in flames if he wanted it to.

“So, what? You fucked him?” He asked, the politeness in his voice giving way to the anger he was feeling.

In a sick way, it pleased you to see him angry. Gave you a sense of pride that you, the wife he had seen fit to ignore, could get such a rise out of him.

“Yes, seeing as you haven’t even touched me,” was your spiteful reply, foolishly placing the blame all on him despite your own actions.

“You stupid, silly little girl,” he said under his breath as he stalked over towards you, menacing in just how much bigger he was than you. “You don’t fucking understand a thing about me, do you?” He asked, hovering over you, his hands braced on the back of the couch that you were still seated on, your faces inches apart.

“You don’t let me. You never speak to me,” you argued, ready to turn this into a fight filled with low blows if he really wanted it to go that way.

“You think this is a fucking walk in the park for me? Having some girl I’ve barely met in my house looking terrified of me every time I come near her? Suffering through your daily attempts to talk to me, but knowing how unbearably uncomfortable you are in being here? You think I wanted this? For either of us?” He asked seamlessly, almost in a rush to get all of his thoughts out before he thought better of it. A look of hesitation passed his face for a brief moment before he continued on, more quietly now. “You think I wanted the girl I couldn’t take my eyes off for a single day after fifth year hating being in my presence? Going behind my back to fuck someone else because I’ve held myself back in case she was uncomfortable doing anything more than just acting like my wife?”

He didn’t meet your eye at first, but when he did you saw the weight of his emotions. He was hurt, by himself and by you. He was jealous of the man you had chosen to spend your day with. He was terrified of your reaction to his words. He was furious he even had to have this conversation, in this way, in this situation. He was relieved he finally got it all out.

“Wh- What are you saying?” You asked cautiously, not wanting to twist his words to meet your own fantasy of having a loving husband.

He took a deep breath before he answered, but made no moves to rid himself of his proximity to you. “Y/N, I’ve been head over heels for you since the moment we met. But having an arranged marriage, I couldn’t do much more but assume you didn’t share the same feelings as me.”

“Oh,” was all you could even say back, too overwhelmed to think of anything else. You searched his eyes for the lie, but they held nothing but the raw truth. He must have seen something in your eyes as well, because his tone shifted into something else entirely before he spoke again.

“Now, Y/N, I think we got off on the wrong foot and I didn’t make my intentions clear with you. I intend to be a good husband, a loving husband. And yet despite my best efforts to be the perfect gentleman so far, you went behind my back to sleep with some other man. And what does that say about you?” He asked, his eyes boring into yours as he spoke.

You were sure he could hear your heart rate from how close he was, your pulse racing at his words. “I- I don’t know,” you stuttered, willing to let him take this wherever he saw fit.

“I’m not going to place the blame all on you, because I know I haven’t been perfect. But one might say that you’re a dumb little whore, and I might be inclined to agree. A stupid, little girl trapped in her big, posh Manor. Going out to let any guy fuck her, not even knowing that her husband can fuck her better than anyone else could.”

“And you could fuck me better than someone I know can?” You asked incredulously, shocked at the words spilling from his mouth. But even if you tried, you couldn’t deny the way he was so sure of himself, so sure he could please you better than any man, aroused you to no end.

He let out a dark chuckle and looked at you, amused. “Of course I could, darling. That is, if you give me the chance,” he told you in a teasing tone, before pushing himself off of the couch to walk away.

“Wait,” you started, once again acting on impulse. You might regret your next words, but damn it if you weren’t curious. And he was your husband after all. “Prove it.”

“Prove it?” He asked, turning on his heel to face you again, a victorious grin written across his face. When you nodded, he only lifted a brow before he continued. “Now? Haven’t you had a long day of, oh how did you put it, ‘getting reacquainted with your ex’?”

“You talk a big game, Draco. Now I’m asking you to prove it. Scared?” You asked, baiting him.

In a split second and a flurry of movement later, he had you laying down against the couch, pressed into the expensive fabric, with his weight on top of you, pinning you down.

“I’ll give you one last chance to back out of this. Tell me now, otherwise I’m going to fuck you through this couch,” he said through gritted teeth, clearly fed up with your antics.

Without even thinking, your lips crashed onto his in a heated kiss. Lips you hadn’t felt since your wedding day. You hadn’t even remembered what they felt like until his tongue was darting along your bottom lip, hastily requesting entry.

As your kiss remained heated, he was expertly shedding you both of your clothing until you were almost bare. He had only left you in your small, lace thong in the aftermath of his destruction.

His hands traveled your body possessively, as if trying to memorize every curve and edge of your skin. The moment your bra came off, your breasts were in his hands, easily rolling your nipples until you were gasping for air. He swallowed all your noises greedily, as if you were feeding them to a starved man.

It wasn’t until he pulled away, his hands resting on the waistband on your underwear, did you have a moment for a coherent thought.

“One last time, are you sure Y/N?” He asked as if it was painful for him. As if it was the case that you said no, it would be immensely difficult for him to pull himself away. As if it was the case that you said no, he’d die a painful death at your feet.

“I’m sure,” you said softly, not wanting him to think for a second that you had any hesitant thoughts about this moment.

As he slowly pulled down your final layer of clothing, it gave you a chance to finally look at him.

And he was beautiful.

He looked like an ancient Greek statue, perfectly carved and crafted out of marble come to life. His perfectly defined lines, his impossible definition, his muscles in all the right places. Your eyes eventually traveled down to his cock, and your breath hitched when you finally saw how large he was. If you had known this all along, perhaps you wouldn’t have sought out another man for your pleasure.

He seemed to be taking you in just the same. His eye trailing down your body with such reverence that you felt like an ancient Greek goddess yourself, if only for a moment.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly, almost as if he didn’t mean for you to hear the words.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, giving him a shy smile when his eyes met yours again.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” he told you, still in the soft tone that he had. He gracefully let his body fall back over yours, bracing himself on one forearm while his other hand traveled the length of your body.

When he caught your lips again, it didn’t hold the same heat as before, but there was something new there. Something good. Something that could only be translated through your lips in that very moment. Something akin to adoration, worship, even love.

His hand stopped its travels at the apex of your thighs, expertly running his fingers over your clit and down your slit, feeling for himself just how wet you were. He groaned at the feeling of how wet and warm you were, and you felt his cock twitch against your stomach in anticipation.

He slowly opened you up for him with his fingers. First with one, then two, even venturing to three before he was content that you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He didn’t rush the process, kept a slow, steady, predictable pace as he worked your body. And every time you got close to the edge, he’d gently bring you back down, leaving you a whining, writhing mess by the time he was aligning his cock with you.

“Draco, please,” you begged shamelessly, more than ready for him.

“Did you beg for him earlier?” He asked almost nonchalantly, teasing you with the tip of his cock.

He must have seen the shock on your face, shocked that he would bring it up in this moment, because he only chuckled before pushing inside of you, a gasp easily pulled from your lips at the intense stretch.

He didn’t fuck you gently, immediately starting with a breakneck pace that left you seeing stars from the first moment he bottomed out. You were easily rewarding him with your moans, letting him know just how good it felt without words. You couldn’t speak even if you tried.

But he talked. Oh, yes. He ran that pretty mouth of his as if he wasn’t thrusting so deep inside of you the couch was rocking.

“I was right, wasn’t I? You’ve never been fucked like this, have you?” He asked, right as you were beginning to climb that peak into a pleasurable abyss.

You gave him a feeble nod in return, not trusting your own mouth to properly respond.

“Did he fuck you like this?” He asked, biting the question out through clenched teeth as if he was dreading the answer. “Tell me, Y/N, did he?” He asked, fucking you even harder now in his frustration.

“No,” you cried out, breaking free of your moans for a second to answer him. “He can’t fuck me like this,” you added, if only to stroke Draco’s ego, but nevertheless it was true. No one could fuck you like this.

“Cum for me, let me feel you,” Draco said, lowering his head into the crook of your neck to ground himself, trying to fight off his orgasm until you got yours.

It didn’t take much longer after that. He had worked you up so much beforehand that your orgasm came to you easily and came with such a force you were left breathless in its wake. Your nails carved down Draco’s muscular back, sure to leave delightful scratch marks that you could study later, as you cried out in bliss.

The moment he felt your walls contract around him, he let himself go with a low groan. The sound was music to your ears, and only intensified the feelings you were experiencing. To have him so close, sharing in the same ecstasy you were, it was like magic.

When you both came down from your highs, he swiftly rearranged the both of you until you wrapped in his arms, both lying on the couch. It was a strange feeling, being in his arms for the first time like this. If someone had told you this would be happening only a few hours before, you would have laughed in their face. But now here you both were, sweaty and satiated, basking in the bliss of finally consummating your marriage.

The thought made you giggle, and when he shot you a perplexed look, you couldn’t help but explain.

“We finally consummated our marriage,” you explained, still giggling. “And don’t worry, by the way, I’m on the potion,” you thought to add, just in case kids weren’t looming in the future for him.

“Good to know you won’t be birthing any bastard children,” was his sullen response, clearly still hurt by the events of the day.

You shifted your body until you were looking directly at him, but he made no moves to pull his arms away from you. If anything, he held you tighter when he felt you move, unwilling to give up the moment.

“Look, I’m sorry about what I did today. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair to you. And if I had known even a fraction how you felt about me, I wouldn’t have done it, because I feel the same about you. I was just feeling incredibly stuck in what I thought was a hopeless marriage, and I was lonely, so I sought out someone else. But now I understand that that isn’t the case, and I can promise you, from the bottom of my heart, that it will never happen again,” you told him, putting everything out there for him.

“You feel the same?” He asked timidly, after a moment of deliberation. There was a look of hope on his face, and never in your wildest dreams would you shut down such a rare display of emotion from him. Then again, you may be expecting more of his emotions from here on out.

“Yes. I’ve always been attracted to you, and the little bits of you that I do know, I like. I want this to work, Draco. I want this to be a real marriage. All I wanted was a shot.” you said, just praying he wanted the same.

“‘I’ll admit, I wasn’t a good husband to you by any means, and I probably unknowingly pushed you into doing what you did. But now that our intentions are out there, I’d like nothing more than to give this a real shot,” he responded, that newly familiar look of hope in his eyes present once more.

In that moment, you could both feel it. The beginning of something great.

#Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #draco malfoy smut #Draco Malfoy Headcanon #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy blurb

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caitimetravels · 3 years

Text

she's insignificant

chapter 5: he should have stayed on that moon

the umbrella academy x (fem) reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: mentions of blood

masterlist

"there you are!" allison ran up behind luther in the hallway. "i've been looking everywhere for you"

"what are you still doing here? i thought you were gone" he turned to look at her in surprise.

"no, i was gonna go and then pogo showed me this-" she tried to explain what she had found but luther cut her off with a shake of his head.

"well, listen.. i was wrong about dad's death"

"what?"

"yeah, i was wrong about y/n, you know, to accuse my own sister of that- it's just-"

"no, no, i get it-"

"seeing all of you and being back here. i-i should be the one who's trying to bring us all back together not tear us apart-"

"would you shut up?"

"what?"

"you were right. about dad. come on, i gotta show you something"

————————————————–

"i can't" eight didn't like crying, especially not in front of her father. he was always cruel, no matter how much the children pleaded and sobbed. she crumpled to the floor, exhausted. she hated training alone, she wanted to train with her siblings outside in the snow, it looked like more fun than this was.

"you are weak, number eight! we will continue until you can get it right" reginald glared down at her. "again!"

she pushed herself up, wobbling. she weakly pushed herself again, trying to make something, anything happen. she squeezed her eyes shut, hands forming fists as she thought hard about what her father wanted. she didn't even know what she was expected to do. to no surprise, nothing happened. reginald sighed heavily, disappointed. he pulled a watch from his pocket before staring down at her as she fell to her knees again.

"you are dismissed, dinner will be in 20 minutes" and she was left alone. reginald disappeared into his office once again. she lay on the floor for a moment, heaving for breath. they had been training for hours, pushing her past her limits. grace and pogo lead her siblings, minus vanya, in through the doors. not wanting them to see her like that she gripped the table behind her, pulling herself up and leaning against it.

"y/n?" ben frowned, stepping over. the others look at her in shock. she shook him off, grumbling about how she was 'fine'. he watched her stumble up the stairs, cringing in pain. her siblings all shared a saddened look.

when they did rush down for dinner, y/n slumped into her chair, dark bags under her eyes. she barely touched her food, pushing it around her plate.

"number eight!" the next thing she knew five was holding her head up and her father was yelling at her. he degraded her, insulted her but she didn't hear a thing. five slowly let go of her, watching her carefully before turning away, back to his meal.

she sat up straighter and actually started to eat the food on her plate, after all, she must train on a full stomach.

————————————————–

y/n and five walked up the stairs of the mansion, feet dragging heavily. as they stepped up they were met with luther and allison.

"five? y/n? what the hell happened to you?" both stayed silent. y/n stared at her feet in a sort of daze. everything was still kind of confusing.

"are you okay?" luther reached out to five, "can we help?" the said boy took him by surprise, hand snapping up and grabbing his fist.

"there's nothing you can do" he spat before his expression saddened, "there's nothing any of you can do.."

y/n looked up, watching as he went. she frowned.

"you alright?" she stared at luther for a moment, grimacing as she remembered what they had last talked about. she kept her mouth shut, brushing past him to her room.

"y/n, wait-"

"just fuck off, luther" she snapped before he could say anything. he should have stayed on that moon.

————————————————–

"number eight" the remaining five siblings with powers stood in a line. it had been a couple weeks since ben's death now. reginald stood in front of them. they had all been told today's training would be different. "step forwards" she did as she was told, standing in front of the others. "you will be using your powers on your siblings today"

her head snapped up at that as did the others. she had never used her powers on them before and they knew what she could do to others. he sent the others all around the house. she was told to find them, sensing where they were with a blindfold on, almost like hide and seek without any of the fun. it was when she had found them all for the seventh time that she sensed something else.

"there are five people in line" she stated, "vanya?"

"wrong" she heard her father scold. "there are only four"

"there's a fifth, i can sense it" she frowned, pulling her blindfold off to see only her four siblings. they all looked confused. "klaus.. is there a ghost? it.. it feels like ben"

"no" he answered far too quickly. ben turned on him from beside him,

"what? klaus! i am here! tell her i'm here!"

"no, he's not"

"klaus! what the hell?! you're so selfish! i am here!" but of course, she never knew that..

————————————————–

"come on, luther, i have to show you" allison tried to pull him away but he continued to stare at where y/n had told him to 'fuck off'. he felt.. guilty.

"but.. what about y/n?" he looked at her. he hated that he upset her, he hated that he had accused her without any actual evidence. she was only a child, just like diego said.

"she's angry, let her cool off. you should apologise but not right now, give her some time" allison offered a soft smile, "that's all she needs, some time. now, come on, this is important"

"i just.. i feel guilty" luther frowned as they walked towards their father's room filled with cameras. "i shouldn't have assumed-"

"she'll understand" allison reassured with a smile.

————————————————–

y/n sat in her corner of the library, reading alone. she was calm, it was her safe place, nobody could bother her here. no training, no arguments, just peace.

"eight.." she looked up from her book at her brother's voice. five.

"what's wrong?" she shuffled over, eyebrows furrowing at the look on his face. he was worried, something five wasn't usually.. or at least he never showed it.

"i.. i want to time travel" he begun softly, taking a seat beside her. she frowned, why was he telling her? "i want to try but dad refused to teach me"

she froze, "you're going to try anyway" she realised. he nodded, now looking up at her.

"i know you think i hate you but i don't" he slowly begun, thinking of the words he was trying to say. "i'm telling you because i think you're the most trustworthy.. and i.." he paused, unsure of how to say what he wanted to. "i think you're the strongest, eight, no matter what our siblings may say"

"five.." she grimaced, "i know we don't talk much but i'll support you if anything happens"

"i do want to talk to you more" he sighed, ashamed for having obeyed his father's stupid rules. "but-"

"no, no. it's not your fault" y/n shook her head. "it's hard to go against him, i understand"

"you're too kind.. you shouldn't forgive people so easily, they'll take advantage of you" five frowned and she laughed.

"i thought i was the strongest, huh?" she nudged his shoulder with her own, finally getting a small smile.

————————————————–

"let me do that" y/n pulled a chair beside five, gently pulling the needle and thread out of his hand. he frowned but let her anyways. "you're antsy" she pointed out, eyeing his bouncing knee. "going somewhere in a rush?"

"i need to go back" he stared out the door, ready to rush out. "i need to find whoever this eye belongs to so that i can stop the apocalypse"

"i know" y/n nodded, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she finished stitching him up. she gently used a cloth to wipe the blood off his arm before placing a bandaid over it. five stood, pulling his shirt on and buttoning it up.

"can i come?" she watched him stuff dolores into the duffle bag and swing it onto his back.

"no" he barely spared her a glance as he moved towards the window. he climbed out.

"what? why not? come on, five" she leaned out the window, watching him begin to climb down the fire escape.

"i need to do this, y/n, it's important" he looked up at her now. "just wait for me here, i'll come back, okay?"

albeit hurt she nodded, she needed to be understanding. she frowned, moving away from the window, hoping to find something else to do. instead as she walked out of the room she noticed luther.

she quickly moved towards her room, hoping he wouldn't see her. she couldn't deal with anymore fighting right now. to her misfortune he did notice her, following her to her room. she swiftly locked the door as she ducked inside.

"hey.. y/n?" luther stood outside her locked door, hand giving a single knock.

"what do you want?" she hissed back, refusing to open it for him. she didn't need anymore of his accusations.

"i'm.. i'm sorry for accusing you" luther sighed. he had to get this over with, she deserved an apology. "it was wrong and i shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that"

he heard her cautious footsteps as she made her way to the door. there was pause before she slowly peeked out.

"you mean it..?" she frowned, eyeing his carefully. he nodded.

"i'm sorry. i know you've probably been lonely here, i know what it's like-"

"just shut up" she breathed out a laugh, pulling the door open fully, looking relieved. "no more fighting, please? i just want my family back.." the last part was quiet, vulnerable. luther nodded, smiling back.

"no more fighting" there was a comfortable silence that fell over the two of them before luther spoke again.

"by the way, do you know where five is?"

"yeah, why?" she tilted her head at him, confused.

"we're having a family meeting.. it's about mom. i'm going to get him"

"okay, but i can't guarantee he'll find this as important as you do"

tag list: @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1 @navs-bhat @midnightmystic

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flowerpowelltales · 2 years

Text

Like Fall, Like Spring (Drake x MC)

PART NINE

A/N: remember when it was supposed to be a four-part mini series? yeah...

Riley knew Drake was very stubborn but the last few days definitely confirmed that conviction.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he would ignore her. He was so good at it that four days after their meeting in Cordonia she had to call Liam and ask him if Drake was living in the house with her or somewhere else because she never saw him. When Liam confirmed that Drake indeed lived with her, Riley realized she had to change her habits and plans, otherwise, a whole month could go by without a single conversation with her soon-to-be-ex husband.

On the fifth day, she finally saw him. They had to come to the palace and Riley delivered a short speech about them stepping out as a Duke and Duchess. She explained it was due to her poor mental health and a toll those titles and everything they entailed had on their overall well-being. It wasn’t a lie, she knew Drake was struggling since becoming a Duke and Riley did feel an awful lot of pressure as a Duchess.

Most Cordonians understood the decision and wished them luck, some of them, however, did not take it lightly.

When Riley and Drake were leaving the palace together after the speech, a few middle-aged (and clearly not too sober) men started calling Riley different names, starting with “disgrace” and “lazy” and ending with rather unmentionable words, which made Riley sick. She could ignore that but she couldn’t ignore it when one of them started throwing empty bottles from the trash can at her. She would definitely be hit if it wasn’t for Drake who grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, helping her dodge the bottles.

She didn’t even manage to open her mouth to thank him, when he took the bottles and threw them back at the men, yelling even more unmentionable words. The men walked away but Drake kept his grip on Riley’s hand. It wasn’t until a few yards later when Drake saw Riley looking at him with such a hopeful expression that he immediately let go of her hand and continued walking ahead of her. Riley looked at his back for the entire way back home thinking that maybe there was still some hope.

~~~~

The next day, Riley woke up extra early, knowing Drake would be back from his morning run at around six thirty. She prepared breakfast from the ingredients she picked up the day before, making sure everything Drake loved was on the table. She spent exactly an hour in the kitchen, perfecting every dish and setting the table. She was exhausted but she wanted to make most use of that month.

She heard a door opening and Drake entered the house. He must have smelled his favorite dish because he came into the kitchen still in his dirty shoes.

“Good morning!” Riley greeted him with a smile. He didn’t move.

“I prepared a breakfast for you! All your favortie things. You must be hungry after so much exercise. Here, let me pour the juice for you. Freshly squeezed.” She was rambling, she knew she was. But for some reason, Drake’s silence made her talk for both of them. She handed him the orange juice but he didn’t take it.

“I’m not hungry,” he simply said and turned to walk away.

“What do you mean you’re not hungry? You were running for over an hour! Don’t be silly, you need food!”

“I’m not the one who’s silly.”

“What... What do you mean?” She was confused.

He turned to her. “Brooks, I don’t want to be rude to you that early in the morning, but you must be a complete fool to think you can just waltz back into my life as if nothing changed. Prepare breakfast as if nothing has ever happened. I no longer like what I liked before and I don’t want anything from you. And for sure, I don’t want you to make food for me.”

“But... Drake, I--”

“If you really want to do something for me, then get out of my way so we can survive the month and get that divorce.”

Riley stared at him as he walked away. She heard him close the door and start a shower. She stood froze, orange juice in her hands, tears in her eyes.

She knew it wouldn’t be easy. She knew after what she did it would take a lot of effort to fix things. She knew it would hurt. But it still was too much. She put the glass on the table and ran through the door, into the forest nearby. Only after she was too far to see the house, did she let her tears stream freely down her cheeks.

~~~~

It was Sunday and Drake left for a whole day. He was going somewhere with Maxwell and Liam and Riley had a whole house to herself. Well, not entirely because she invited--

“Riley! Can you open the door before I kick them open myself?”

Riley smiled. Drake may say things changed but she was glad that Olivia didn’t. She opened the door to greet her only, as of then, friend.

“I know you’re no longer a Duchess but you could get yourself a Gladys to open the door for your guests as I see you forgot how to do it.”

“I’m so very happy to see you, Liv.” She said and hugged her but Oliva quickly pushed her away.

“I’m so unhappy you still don’t respect my personal space.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve missed you so much!”

“You could, you know, visit me, us. Or not leave, that was also an option,” Olivia said making herself comfortable on the couch.

“Liv.”

“I know, I know. So how’s it going?”

“It’s tough. He doesn’t want to talk to me or be anywhere near me.”

“And you’re... surprised?”

Riley shook her head. “No. Not really. But I wish it was easier. I wish it didn’t hurt so much.”

Olivia studied her friend’s face carefully. “He said those same exact words three months after you left when he started coming to terms with the fact that he might never see you again.”

“As if I didn’t feel awful enough,” she groaned.

“You made a mistake. And mistakes can be fixed. Most of the time.”

“But what if... What if I shouldn’t try to fix it? What if my trying to fix things is only making things worse? Maybe I should’ve signed those papers and give Drake what he really wants.”

“You?”

“The divorce, Olivia. The divorce.”

“Listen. As a divorced person--”

“Liv, your divorce to Anton was completely different.” Riley rolled her eyes.

“... As I was saying, as a person who got divorced I don’t think you or Drake look like people who want that divorce. You two still love each other and... Ooof, saying ‘Drake’ and ‘love’ in one sentence made me gag a little. Anyway, I think divorce is the last thing you should go for.”

“But he wants it!”

“He thinks he wants it. He’s mad at you. Rightfully so, may I add. But what do you think he’s dreaming about when he sleeps? Divorce or you?”

~~~~

Olivia’s words were echoing in her mind even after she left. Riley didn’t know what do with herself. It was very late at night, Drake still hadn’t come and Riley was wondering if maybe Olivia was right. If maybe Drake didn’t want that divorce as much as her.

She stopped in front of Drake’s bedroom. He took the master one, she was staying in the guest room. She was wondering if he still slept on the left side of the bed. If he still refused to wear anything but boxers to bed, if he still got too much hot under the duvet. She wondered if he still kept a glass full of water next to his bed or if he finally read that novel he was reading for the past few years.

Riley thought back to what Drake said a few days before. He said things had changed. Did they change that much? Without thinking she opened the door to his bedroom and took in the sight.

An empty glass next to his bed. The left side of bed unmade. A duvet thinner than paper. The bookmark in his novel still on page 174. She smiled.

She walked to the right side of the bed and sat down. She stroked the pillow no one slept on when she noticed something tucked under it. Her scarf. It still smelled faintly of her perfume. Faintly but still. Maybe Olivia was right. Maybe Drake didn’t want to divorce her. Maybe she could still fix things.

She put the scarf back to where she found it and started making her way out when she noticed something at the back of the room. The door to another, much smaller room was open. It wasn’t a bathroom or a closet and she didn’t remember ever seeing it.

Her innate curiosity won again and she went to check out the room. It was dark but there wasn’t any light switch. She waited a bit for her eyes to adjust and then she realized what it was. Drake’s darkroom.

She remembered vaguely Liam telling her Drake used to be a photographer when he lived in the U.S. and then remembered that Drake always took great pictures. He told her it was only a hobby but remembering what Liam said and seeing his darkroom now she understood that it as more than just a hobby.

Pictures were everywhere and Riley gasped at how good they were. Everything had a theme. Despair. Nostalgia. Longing for what was gone. Her heart hurt seeing the pictures, so beautiful yet so sad. Drake was amazing. Suddenly she felt the need to tell the whole world how talented Drake was. She wanted everyone to see those pictures. She wanted Drake to get back to photography. She wanted--

“What are you doing here?” Drake’s voice came out of nowhere and startled her.

“I was just--”

“Snooping around my things? Not respecting my privacy?”

“No, I was just curious. You said things changed and I wanted to see just how much,” she was rambling again. “And then I saw your darkroom and I saw all those pictures and wow, Drake, they are amazing and you’re so incredibly talented and have you thought about exhibiting them? Remember Daniel from that bar in New York? His roomate works in a gallery and I could talk--”

“Brooks, stop. I don’t want you to talk to anyone or to show my photos. And I don’t want you to snoop around either.” Drake sounded annoyed.

“But you have a talent! I know you were a photographer, why not doing it again?”

“Brooks!” He raised his voice. “I don’t want to talk about you, especially not with you. I don’t want anything from you. Stop pretending you care. And please, get out of my room. Now.”

“I--I care, Drake, I--”

“OUT!” He yelled and the tears that threatened to fall, started streaming down Riley’s cheeks. She ran out of his bedroom, straight to her room and locked the door.

Maybe Olivia wasn’t right after all. Maybe all he wanted was a divorce.

~~~~

She was out in the afternoon trying to meet Maxwell who still refused to talk to her for longer than twenty minutes and only in Liam’s presence. When she came back she noticed Ellen was waiting for her. Waiting for her and talking to Drake.

“Ellen? What are you doing here?” She asked and hugged the old woman.

“Just having a chat with your husband.”

“Oh really?” She looked at Drake.

“Yeah. It was nice learning about Ellen. The whole time we were together you never mentioned her.”

“Drake...”

“Funny, cause you didn’t even mention your grandmother. And I had no idea the cottage you were living in Vermont belonged to her. It’s like I don’t know anything about you.” He seemed angry.

“Drake, it’s not like this...”

“Not like this? Not like what? Not like you never said anything about your family? Not like you kept everything away from me? Not like our whole relationship was a lie?”

“It was not a lie!” She cried.

“You just love everything to be about you, don’t you. You don’t tell me about your family, childhood, nothing, you leave me when you feel like it. What kind of relationship is that, Brooks, huh?”

“Drake, you don’t know anything!”

“I don’t! Because you never tell me anything. You’re self-centered and don’t care about other people. You leave out imporant information and never actually talk! You’re trying to make yourself some kind of tragic hero but you’re pathetic. Completely and utterly--”

“Shut. UP!” Riley snapped and Drake’s eyes widened. “Maybe some people didn’t have nice childhood and parents who loved them. Maybe some people don’t have good memories from their past but instead they have trauma they need to heal from!” She yelled and ran past Drake to her bedroom. He opened his mouth but before he could say anything, Riley slammed the door after her shut.

She pretended she didn’t hear Ellen’s gentle voice asking her to open the door or Drake knocking. She put a pillow around her head and cried herself to sleep.

Drake was right.

She was pathetic.

TAGGING: @gardeningourmet @delightfullypinkglitter @alesana45 @walkerdrakewalker @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @lovingchoices14 @tessa-liam @gkittylove99 @texaskitten30 @twinkleallnight @rubiwalker @differenttyphoonwerewolf @nestledonthaveone @marshmallowsandfire @21-wishes @thequeenofcronuts @iaminlovewithtrr @angelasscribbles @ladyangel70 @tinkie1973 @belencha77

#the royal romance #choices #playchoices #drake walker #the royal heir #the royal finale #drake walker x mc #drake x mc #drake walker x riley brooks #my fics

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

Text

Family Ties // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: hey lovie!! i wanna start by saying i adore your writing for bridgerton and harry potter and i always find myself coming back to it,, if you’re up for it, would you mind writing a benedict imagine? i was thinking something sweet and domestic?? like maybe him and the reader have kids and they’re going to visit the rest of the family? take it however you want!! <3 - @ddaeng-danvers

A/N: Thank you so much!! I truly hope you like this. This is the first thing I've written in close to a month now and I love how happy it is. There’s love, and family, and fluff. I am so happy with it. This features characters seen in the prequel books ‘The Rokesby’s’ - I finished reading book 2 today and I think I'm going to own all of Quinn’s books by the time we reach summer.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: children, marriage, fluff, female reader, she/her pronouns, bridgertons being bridgertons, family fluff, love, romance, kissing, cute, mentions of pregnancy. SPOILERS FOR THE PREQUEL SERIES BUT I CANT BE SORRY, I LOVE GEORGE TOO MUCH.

Word count: 3.3k

Giggles and gasps lighten the morning air as you take those first steps outside. The grass is still wet with morning dew and it dampens the hem of your dress, but you cannot bring yourself to care as the laughter of your children surrounds you.

“You can’t catch me!” Your daughter declares, laughing loudly as her steps quicken on the slick grass.

A quiet smile crosses your face as you watch the scene unfold in front of you.

Your daughter, Violet, continues to laugh wildly as Benedict grabs her from behind, lifting her onto his shoulders. She settles there quickly; having spent a lot of time on Benedict’s shoulders when her little legs wore themselves out from running and exploring.

“My love,” Benedict greets, smiling widely at you, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did until I realised I was alone.”

Benedict casts his eyes upwards, gesturing to the four year old currently busying herself with trying to tidy the permanently messy locks of her father. “Someone,” Benedict emphasises with another glance upwards, “Woke up too early and I didn’t want to wake you.”

Your body warms at the obvious love in Benedict’s voice – for you, for his daughter. Close to a decade being married and he has every capacity to reduce you to a lovestruck fool. It’s perfect, really.

Chuckling, you gaze lovingly at your daughter. “Did you wake your father up?”

She nods; not an ounce of apology on her small face as she continues to mess up Benedict’s hair. “I couldn’t sleep anymore,” she defends, “I’m excited to see Grandma Violet.”

“I’m sure she’s excited to see you too,” Benedict comments, reaching for his pocket watch to check the time. “We’ll have to be setting off soon. Are we all packed?”

You nod, meeting the loving eyes of your husband. “The footmen have everything covered. Where is John?”

Benedict gestures to the overgrowth behind him. “He joined us when Violet wouldn’t keep quiet. He shouldn’t be too far behind.”

“I’ll go in search. Get Violet ready for me?”

Benedict nods, smiling down at you before dropping the first kiss of many to your lips. You watch the pair leave; Violet chattering away about the birds singing in the trees before heading off in search for your eldest child.

“John Edmund Bridgerton,” you call out, voice loud in the quiet garden, “Where have you gotten to?”

“I’m over here,” John calls; his dark brown curls popping up between the rose bushes.

“Shall we head inside? We need to get ready to make the journey to London.”

John smiles, making his way to your side. “You look more like your father every day,” You comment absentmindedly, running a hand through your son’s hair.

John flushes at the compliment; his father was an exceptionally strong man as well as incredibly talented in whatever he pursues. “Thank you,” John replies, reaching for your hand to begin the walk back to your home.

---------

Bridgerton House had always grown violet hyacinths; they perfumed the air, making every inhale sweeter than the last. The door to the Bridgerton London home is opened before you get chance to place your feet on the ground after stepping down from the carriage.

Benedict steadies you as you straighten your skirts whilst trying to keep an eye on your children, making sure they hadn’t fallen out of the carriage. The laughter of your children floating on air has the tightness in your chest relaxing.

You take a moment to stand beside your husband, enjoying the feel of his hands on your waist. It had been so long since a moment alone had been found between the two of you; one of you running after Violet before she scared off another governess. Her stubbornness was to be admired, but it made it hard to teach her the basics in terms of literacy.

“Are you alright?” Benedict asks, noticing your hesitancy.

You smile widely at the love of your life. “I’m fine, my love. I just wanted to be close to you.”

Benedict’s face softens at your confession; he would be the first to admit that he found himself missing you even when he was sat next to you. There were no problems in your marriage but being so busy meant that there was little time for the two of you.

Benedict takes your hand; dropping a kiss to the back of it before turning it over and placing a lingering kiss to your wrist, over your pulse point. You gasp at the intimacy of it, your toes curling at the promise in his eyes.

“Mama!” Violet cries, taking your hand and dragging you through the house in the direction of the portrait gallery with all her might.

You chuckle, turning to Benedict with a helpless look on your face. He holds his hands up, letting you take the lead with your headstrong daughter. “I shall announce our arrival,” Benedict laughs, blue eyes focused on the way his daughter’s slippers slip and slide on the marble tiles of the entrance hall. “John,” He calls, “Would you like to join me?”

Imperceptibly, John takes a step in your direction. An incredibly smart but shy boy from birth, you sometimes worried over his place in the loud, boisterous family of the Bridgertons. “If it’s okay, I want to see where mother and Violet are going.”

“Of course,” Benedict smiles, ruffling John’s hair, knowing how he needed to get used to a new environment before feeling comfortable.

Benedict presses a kiss to your mouth and then to your cheek before taking the steps two at a time to hurry to the drawing room where he can greet his mother and siblings before answering their questions about your whereabouts.

Letting yourself be led through the ornate home of Violet Bridgerton, you can’t help but smile at the determinedness of your daughter. Her little feet stomping away on the marble tiles as she pulls you to the portrait gallery – her favourite place in the whole house bar her grandmother’s knee.

The gallery hasn’t had a new addition to its walls in years; the last painting being of Anthony and Kate on their fifth anniversary. Violet saw it as fitting that their London home had an up to date portrait of Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton. Anthony had argued, but one look from his mother had him falling silent – knowing a losing battle when he sees one.

Generations of Bridgertons line the walls; their famous blue eyes watching the latest generation walk the halls of their once home. John remains silent by your side as he meets the gaze of the men of which his name is descended; if he feels their pressure at such a young age, he doesn’t say.

One painting catches your eye. A young woman and her husband; his hand is resting on her shoulder as she remains seated. They both stare out of the painting; their eyes filled with the stories of generations passed but utterly silent on the matter.

“Who is this?” Violet asks, effectively distracted by the bright colours of the painting.

“That’s your Great Aunt Billie and her husband,” You comment absently, mind occupied with Billie Bridgerton’s eyes.

“Have we met her?” John asks, hand reaching for yours.

“You have, John. She and the Rokesby clan came to your christening. I doubt you remember, you were so young, my darling.”

John flushes at your use of his childhood pet name. Not even ten years old and he was already growing too old for such things, but you didn’t care – he would always be your darling, your first born, the very boy that made you a mother.

“Where are they now?”

“I suppose they are still at Crake House in Kent. We should have to pay them a visit the next time we visit your Uncle Anthony.”

“Can we?” Violet asks, her Bridgerton blue eyes wide with promise and excitement.

“If your father allows it, I see no problem with it.”

The children seem placated at that. With their hands in yours, you make your way to the drawing room where the rest of the family have gathered. Benedict spies you immediately despite being deep in conversation with Colin and Hyacinth; his body and soul finetuned to your presence – feeling uplifted when you’re beside him, feeling as if he was missing a vital part of himself in your absence.

“Grandma Violet!” Your youngest child cries, launching herself for the skirts of the Bridgerton matriarch. Her small arms barely make their way around the legs of the elderly woman who cannot contain her amused giggle at the exploits of her granddaughter. Instead, she gathers young Violet in her arms, placing her on her knee to get a better look at her.

“You have grown,” The matriarch murmurs, brushing back the dark brown hair of her granddaughter.

“John!” Anthony calls, drawing the attention of his nephew. Releasing your hand, John crosses the room to talk to his beloved uncle; the topic of conversation, you know not but they both look incredibly animated and devoted to the matter.

“Where were you?” A low voice sounds in your ears, making you jump. The voice turns amused as a low chortle escapes your husband’s mouth. “I’m sorry, my love,” he offers in apology as an arm wraps itself around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

“If you must know, we were in the portrait gallery.”

“What drew you there?”

“Your daughter,” You comment, tone amused.

Benedict moves to inquire further but is cut off but the gong signalling that dinner has been served. At once, the family moves as one – all ravenous and desperate to begin their meal.

“(Y/N)!” Colin calls out, catching up to you on the way to the dining room.

“Colin,” You greet fondly, “How is married life?”

“Wonderful,” Colin sighs, “Penelope is… Penelope is wonderful.”

You laugh, elbowing the third eldest Bridgerton. “Surely, you remember the early days of your marriage,” Colin states, “The honeymoon period.”

“It doesn’t leave you,” You reply, catching sight of the love of your life just ahead of you. His head is bent as he reaches for the hand of your daughter; her whole hand wrapped around one of his fingers. It sends your heart into a tizzy as you inhale sharply; the love you feel for Benedict Bridgerton could rival the love of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, of the sonnets written by William Shakespeare himself.

“No,” Colin comments, glancing between you and Benedict, “I don’t suppose it does.”

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

Dinner with a large Bridgerton crowd was never a quiet feat; conversations flowed in every direction. Societal propriety non-existent as everyone spoke over each other; happy to have the company of their siblings, nieces and nephews, sons and daughters.

“Anthony,” You begin, reaching for your glass as you draw the attention of the head of the family, “When would you next be at Aubrey Hall?”

“Kate, the children, and I travel back in two days. Why?”

“We were in the portrait gallery earlier. Violet was rather taken with a portrait of Billie Bridgerton and her husband, George. If Benedict has no qualms, could we travel with you? I think Violet would like to meet them.”

Anthony beams; rather liking the idea of bringing the Rokesby’s back into their lives once more. “I must admit that I haven’t travelled to Crake House in a long time. What a terrible nephew I must seem.”

Violet frowns, picking at the food on her plate. “What a terrible sister-in-law, I must be. It must be close to a year, probably longer since I’ve seen Billie and George. Longer since I’ve seen Edward and Cecilia.”

“That does it,” Anthony declares, “We shall all travel to Aubrey Hall before dropping in on Crake House.”

Meeting Benedict’s eyes across the table you smile at the clear affection written on his face. “You have no objections do you, my love?”

He shakes his head. “Never, my love.”

Turning your attention to Anthony, you nod your affirmation. “Should we write in advance of leaving here?”

Anthony wipes his mouth with his napkin. “I’ll send a missive with the morning messenger; if I tip generously then there shouldn’t be an issue.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind,” Violet adds absently, “I just can’t believe I’ve left it this long. I’m so rarely in Kent and they never journey to London.”

Colin reaches to his right, placing his hand on top of his mother’s. “They will more than understand. Aunt Billie was father’s sister after all. I think even Aunt Billie finds it hard to return to Aubrey Hall.”

“Then it’s decided,” Benedict smiles, “We shall journey to Aubrey Hall and get settled there before descending on Crake House.”

“Do you think Gregory would like to join us?” You ask, thinking of your youngest brother-in-law.

“He’s in his final term at Oxford,” Colin replies, “He’s sitting all number of exams right now, I don’t think he’ll have the time.”

“A shame,” Anthony comments, thinking of his youngest brother and the stress he must be under, “But I’m sure he can complete the journey in the summer.”

“He always was Aunt Billie’s favourite,” Benedict states darkly. You raise your eyebrows at your husband in question. “Gregory struggled with the pronunciation of some plants when he was a child; Aunt Billie thought it was adorable,” He explains, sounding far off as if trapped in a memory of his youth.

Smiling widely at your husband’s tone, you coo, “I’m sure Violet will be her new favourite when we explain what inspired our visit.”

Dismissing all social expectations, Benedict rounds the table, reaching for your hand, pressing a long kiss to the back of it before stating loudly. “You, my love, are a genius.”

“It has been said before,” You laugh, watching your husband return to his seat with promises of the night alight in his eyes. His eyes remain bright as he gazes at you over the rim of his wine glass, no longer paying attention to the conversation pertaining to the history of the Bridgertons and Rokesbys. Instead, his gaze remains fixed on you as he thinks of all the good you have brought to his life – loving him, marrying him, bearing his children. His love for you is endless, and he’ll spend the rest of his life proving that to you.

--------

Crake House was just as grand as Aubrey Hall. The Rokesby’s gaining the favour of the monarch in the seventeenth century leading to an earldom and a rather large estate that bordered on the Bridgerton’s at Aubrey Hall. From then, the two families had been intertwined – as close as two families could get.

“It’s very big,” John comments quietly to Benedict as they leave the carriage.

“Don’t let that intimidate you, John,” Benedict says, “There’s nothing to be worried about.”

As Benedict finishes his sentence, the door to Crake House is pulled open by a strong hand. Deep blue skirts are the first thing you see, and you know that Billie Rokesby nee Bridgerton has arrived.

“Bridgertons!” A feminine voice cries, “I have Bridgertons on my doorstep once more!”

“Billie,” Violet sighs, a fond smile on her face as if the sound of her sister-in-law’s voice has transported her back to times long thought of as memories.

“Anthony Bridgerton,” Billie admonishes as she hurries down the stairs, her elderly frame not a hindrance to her speed whatsoever. “How long have you taken residence in Aubrey Hall? How long has it been since you came to see me?”

“Aunt Billie,” Anthony murmurs, “I don’t suppose you could ever forgive me.”

Billie Rokesby nee Bridgerton eyes her nephew; looking him up and down before taking his face in her strong hands. “Are you well, my boy?”

For a moment, tears shine in Anthony’s eyes as he is reminded of his departed father. He nods wordlessly; trying to get a grip on the feelings rushing through him at the love that emanates from Billie. “I’m well, Aunt Billie.”

Billie nods, stepping back, clearly happy at the information offered by Anthony. She casts her shrewd gaze over her brother’s family; happiness alight in her eyes as she takes sight of your daughter, hiding behind your skirts.

“Who do we have here?” She asks, stepping closer to Benedict and yourself.

“You met John when he was just a babe in arms, but Violet is our youngest,” Benedict introduces, an arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

“Violet?” Billie gasps, dipping at the waist, “Violet Bridgerton, it is an honour to meet you.”

Violet giggles from where she has her face hidden in your legs. You reach down, tapping her on the shoulder. “Come now, sweetheart. Let’s say hello.”

Violet peeks her face out of your skirts, her blue eyes meeting the kind, aged ones of Billie. Violet curtsies, remembering her manners despite her age. “I saw your painting at Grandma’s house.”

“Which one?” Billie asks gently, eyes flickering to the Bridgerton matriarch. “Please tell me it wasn’t the one that Edmund commissioned as an anniversary gift for George and myself.”

Violet Bridgerton covers her mouth to stem the laughter that threatens to bubble over. “The very same.”

Billie huffs, turning to you, “I was six months pregnant, and Edmund thought I would want nothing more than to sit for a whole day with nothing to keep me company.”

“I think you look wonderful,” Your daughter compliments, tripping up on her pronunciation of ‘wonderful’.

Billie’s eyes shine with happiness, “Thank you, my dear.”

“I think our guests might like some tea,” An exasperated but fond voice calls from the doorway. Billie’s face softens at the sound of it; she turns to her husband, finding him watching her with a loving smile on his face.

“They aren’t guests, George. They are my family, and by marriage, your family.”

“All the same, I’m sure they would like something to drink and to rest a little.”

Billie pouts, knowing a losing fight when she saw one. You take in the sight of the pair; their hair had greyed over time, their face becoming wrinkled but their love – it was so palpable, it could be felt in every aspect of their conversation and every expression they sent each other.

Billie and George manage to wrangle the whole Bridgerton clan into their drawing room with promises of food, tea and stories of their mother’s youth. Violet pales at such a promise but Billie’s hand on her arm steadies her.

Your children, John and Violet, join their many cousins on the carpet. They all sit cross legged, eyes intently focused on the elderly couple sitting on the pale green couch. Billie gestures animatedly as she begins one of her many adventurous stories. George leans further back into the cushions, happy to let his wife regale his extended family with the very story of how they had fallen in love. A story told many times, but a story he would never tire of hearing, especially not from his beloved wife’s lips.

You watch all of this from where you sit, perched on the window seat. You smile at the sight of Anthony, Colin and Hyacinth watching Billie with nothing short of wonder written on their faces as they are reminded of the aunt that had explained the way of the land before they had truly understood what it meant to be part of a family with such a large responsibility.

Benedict joins you on the window seat, crossing his legs at the ankles as his heart sings at the sound of his children’s laughter. Silently, he reaches over to take your hand in his. He rests your tangled hands on his thigh; needing you close for a reason he cannot seem to find the words to explain.

“I love you,” You whisper, needing him to hear the words that have begged to be released since you had rolled up to Crake House.

“I love you too,” Benedict responds, his hand tightening around yours.

*********

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @aspiringsloth20 @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #Benedict bridgerton imagines #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #Bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic

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heliads · 3 years

Text

Guns Blazing, Tides Rising (Part One)

When Kaz Brekker announces that they’ll be working with a certain Tidemaker to help with the latest heist, Jesper knows it’s not going to end well. He and Y/N L/N have a fierce rivalry, although feelings may change over a night.

series masterlist / part two

Jesper is almost one block away from the Crow Club when he senses that he isn’t alone.

Technically, he hasn’t been alone in a long time. There is no place to get away in Ketterdam, no alley left uninhabited or room without a listener. It’s certainly nothing like Novyi Zem, where you could find miles of farmland with nobody to talk to and nothing to do. No, the Barrel has never been somewhere to stay away from people.

This, however, is a different kind of presence. Jesper only notices it now, and he has no idea how long the Wraith has been following him. Sometimes he thinks she does it on purpose, walking behind him, footsteps silent as ever, just to see how long it takes him to figure out that she’s there. Jesper halts in his tracks, raising his voice to the hooded figure no doubt a pace or two behind him. “I know you’re there, Inej, and if I turn around just now you had better not do that thing where you wait two inches behind me just to make me jump.”

There is silence, as expected. Jesper turns in a slow semicircle, ready for the inevitable, yet he still stiffens just slightly to see Inej standing behind him. Jesper has been in the Barrel for a long time, and gotten used to the skulking and sneaking of the various goons. He fancies himself at least somewhat capable at figuring out when people are following him, but for some reason, he cannot do the same with Inej. Not at all.

She raises an eyebrow at him. “You did the thing.” Jesper finishes lamely. Something almost like a smile tugs at Inej’s lips. “That’s not exactly my fault. I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for a while. I’ve practically been stomping my heels against the cobblestones.” Jesper groans. “You have not. You’ve been as silent as ever, and you know that.” Inej ignores this, jerking her chin behind her, back in the direction of the Slat. “Your Crow Club endeavor will have to wait. Kaz needs you.”

Kaz Brekker needs him. “What a surprise. I’m very useful, as it turns out. Couldn’t this wait a little longer, though? I’ve heard they’ve got a new dealer over at Makker’s Wheel.” Inej just turns around, starting to walk back towards the Slat. No matter how hard Jesper tries, he cannot hear a single footstep echo against the stones. “This is more important.” Jesper raises an eyebrow. “More important than earning the Dregs money by supporting a local establishment? He doesn’t need to worry, you know, I’ve got money.”

Jesper grimaces at the look of incredulity starting to color Inej’s eyes. “Alright, it’s not a lot of money. But it is at least enough to buy a round or two. Besides,” Jesper continues, eager to shift the conversation away from his less than prosperous gambling habits, “Why did Kaz send you? He could have just delivered a note.” Inej lifts a shoulder, even the slightest of shrugs a graceful movement. “I told you, this is important.”

Jesper is intrigued by this. “Whenever you say ‘important’ more than once, it’s always good. Is it another heist? Extortion? Maybe a good clash of rival gangs?” Inej rolls her eyes. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything. That was the whole point of me going.” Jesper sighs dramatically. “You could tell me a little bit. I wouldn’t even mention it to Kaz.”

Inej instead lets her eyes trail upwards, towards the ramshackle glory of the Slat which is visible down the block. “You’ll get your information soon enough.” Her voice grows quiet, quieter than usual. It’s practically impossible to hear over the clack of footsteps on stone as pigeons and gang members alike rush to finish their business before it grows too late and the thieves come running. “I will say one thing, though. While we’re still away from prying ears.”

Jesper leans closer, fascinated. “What is it?” Inej looks up at him, and Jesper realizes that she looks almost regretful. “Don’t be too upset.” Jesper waits for more, some explanation to this excruciatingly vague statement, but nothing happens. “Don’t be upset? What, is Kaz going to cane me to death?” Inej tilts her head to the side. “There’s a plan, and it will involve some things that you won’t be too fond of. That’s all I can say for now.”

Jesper wants to pry a little further, even if he senses that the Wraith will remain silent, but the door to the Slat is already in front of him, effectively stopping any conversation. The Dregs may be Kaz’s gang, but loyalties can always be changed. Jesper has wandered the canals long enough to know that all secrets should be kept to locked doors, and even allies can turn against you. Some conversations are best when they’re not shared at all.

Jesper looks around for Kaz in the main room of the Slat, but he doesn’t see the dark-haired boy anywhere. Instead, Inej inclines her head towards the rickety set of stairs at the back of the room. “He’ll be waiting for you in his office.” Jesper moves to ask her something, anything, about what else is waiting for him there, but before he can even open his mouth to speak Inej has disappeared. It’s fascinating- Jesper hadn’t even turned away or looked elsewhere, yet she had vanished right before his open eyes. He hadn’t seen her go, just witnessed her blink away into the shadows.

Jesper stares at the empty floorboards where Inej had once stood, then, squaring his shoulders as if preparing for a particularly nerve-wracking round of cards, begins to ascend the flights of stairs. He pauses once outside the door to Kaz’s office, touching the hilts of his pearl handled revolvers for luck, then pushes open the door and steps inside.

Kaz is waiting for him, standing at his desk and running through a map spread out across the wooden surface. He looks up when he sees Jesper enter, straightening to nod once in greeting. Jesper’s eyes travel to Inej, who had somehow beat him up the stairs and is now perched, catlike, on Kaz’s windowsill.

Kaz doesn’t bother with pleasantries or questions about Jesper’s day, as per usual, just dives into an explanation. “There’s a mercher living down near the Financial District. He’s like the others- snotty, pretends to be pious, unseasonably rich for someone who just arrived at his title, but he’s strayed too far from his gilded walkways and tried to start restrictions on Fifth Harbor.”

Jesper lets out a snort. “Merchers. Always getting too big for their tie pins.” Kaz ignores this. “Under his new plan, we’d have to pay out reparations to him and also ease back on coaxing pigeons into our establishments. There’s no way in hell that would ever pass, but this mercher just happens to have some pretty significant blackmail on key members of the Merchant Council, and they’ll pass whatever bill he wants so long as he keeps his mouth shut. Unfortunately, we can’t kill him directly, but we can break into his mansion and steal his proof of the Council’s less savory transactions. Without the blackmail, the Council will never pass the bill, and we’ll be fine.”

Jesper raises an eyebrow. “As easy as that?” Kaz lifts a shoulder. “There’s a slight complication. This mercher, Joeri ter Steege, has a certain thing for oceanside views. He’s found himself a nice little inlet near the water’s edge, and access to his mansion is only available by boat. This means that any attempt to access his house would mean we would travel by water, and any boat could easily be sighted by guards that patrol the area.”

Jesper squints at Kaz. “What do you mean, only available by boat? If he’s living in an inlet, shouldn’t there be some dock connecting it to the mainland?” Inej flashes him a smile. “The merch has got himself a moat.” Jesper stares. “You’re kidding me. You’ve got to be kidding me. This merch is so extravagantly wealthy that he’s gone and got himself a moat? Ghezen’s hand, maybe I should become a banker. The things I could do.” Inej hides a laugh. “The moats you could build.”

Kaz’s hand tightens around his crow’s head cane. “Regardless of the merch’s terrible landscaping decisions, the fact remains that access will be practically impossible. To get across, we’d need a boat, and any boat would be sighted by guards. That’s why we need a Tidemaker.” Jesper’s smile starts to drop from his face. Suddenly, pieces are starting to fall into place. Inej’s warning. Kaz’s mention of a Tidemaker. Jesper shakes his head. “Don’t tell me you got the one Tidemaker I’m thinking of. Please say you brought in somebody else.”

Kaz opens his mouth to either condemn this or save Jesper’s skin, but then a voice rings out from the newly opened door and Jesper’s spirits sink into his boots. “Afraid not, Fahey. They’ve brought me.” Jesper turns around, finding himself face to face with a girl just walking into the office, hand loosely wrapped around the wooden doorframe. She tosses him a smile as if they’re old friends, when it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Jesper whirls back around to face Kaz. “You didn’t. You’re really trusting her? Y/N L/N?” Kaz shrugs. “She’s the best there is, unfortunately. We need to remain hidden, and she’s the only one who won’t rat us out or let us drown.” Y/N walks further into the room, letting the door close behind her. “I appreciate the vote in confidence, but don’t worry about me. I can get you in and out, no problem. Well, the only problem will be you, sharpshooter.”

Jesper feels the sudden need to grab one (or maybe both) of his revolvers and let fly with his bullets. Can a Tidemaker wash away a hail of ammunition? Jesper’s assuming not. Kaz taps his cane against the floor. “Let’s not reach to violence just yet, Jesper. Wait until after the extraction is over.” Jesper throws one last glare Y/N’s way. “Trust me, I’ll have no problem with that.” He can wait, after all.

The problem with Y/N L/N is this: she keeps finding a way to meddle with everything he does. First, Jesper was on a heist by himself, breaking into a stronghold of the Dime Lions to snatch up an encoded message left by Pekka Rollins. He was doing fine until a wave of water cascaded in through the windows, knocking him aside and thoroughly drenching the paper. It was useless now, both to Rollins and to Kaz. Y/N had only bothered to toss a wink across the room before leaving, allowing her wave to soak Jesper’s boots while she was at it.

The second time was during a shootout. She’d been hired to the other side, although Jesper hadn’t known it yet. Jesper was just about to fire upon the lousy goon who’d hired her when she’d used her powers again, this time specifically intending to ruin his guns. His precious pearl-handled revolvers, soaked through with water. It had taken him forever to get the saltwater out of every crack and groove in the metal, and during all of that time he’d vowed to himself that he’d be the one to darken her doorway and make Y/N regret ever stepping foot against him again.

Jesper had won the third time. This time, he was the unexpected guest, and she was seconds away from drowning an entire swath of gang members to protect a secret. She was just raising her hands to move the water into place when a gunshot sounded from out of nowhere and she was knocked sideways, hand already raising to the stain of red starting to bloom out from her arm. It wouldn’t kill her, unfortunately, but it was enough to give the gang members time to escape. Some of them were Dregs, after all, and Jesper had some friends to protect. That isn’t to say that he didn’t walk away with a smile, just that he had multiple motives.

Needless to say, he didn’t exactly have the best history with Y/N L/N. And now Kaz was asking him to have her back during a heist? It sounds like a joke. Unfortunately, Jesper has a sinking feeling that there’s no getting out of this. If he’s going to have to depend on Y/N for his life, things might not exactly go according to plan. He has no idea where Y/N’s loyalties lie, he reasons, but Jesper thinks there might be more to it than that.

The group meets up at the water’s edge. The canals bleed into the harbor here, and Jesper can just make out the lights of Joeri ter Steege’s mansion across the glittering black of the waves. He can also make out a slight tension in Kaz’s grip on his cane as he takes in the sight of the undulating water, but that isn’t for him to notice. Y/N melts out of the shadows, a blue lining on her coat the only indication that she might still cling to Ravkan traditions for Grisha. “Well?” She asks, walking past them as if not expecting an answer, “Are we ready?”

Y/N spreads her hands and the water of the harbor flickers and shifts on the surface. As Jesper watches, Y/N steps forward, and the water solidifies under her feet as if she’s walking on glass instead of the tides. She pushes her hands apart, and the area of solid water expands until it’s large enough to act as a bridge. She turns to the rest of the group. “We can walk from here. It’ll be faster than a boat, and far more quiet.”

Kaz nods, beginning to walk after her on the bridge of water. Before his feet leave the ground, his mouth moves once. “No mourners.” Jesper nods. “No funerals.” They won’t be able to speak as freely at the mercher’s island, so this will do best. Jesper considers the unmoving waves one last time, then follows him. He’s half expecting Y/N to let the water liquify under his feet just a little bit, out of spite, but it holds. They continue along the harbor, and if Jesper turns his head he can see the bridge rippling back into normal water after they pass by it. It raises the hairs on the back of his neck to see his escape route disappear so quickly, but Jesper does his best to quiet the voice of warning. Kaz would never bring Y/N in if he thought she would betray them, and even if he did, Kaz would have another way out. That’s just the way Dirtyhands worked.

All the same, Jesper feels a little better when his heels land on solid ground once more. Kaz doesn’t have to say a word, just points at the roof. Jesper nods, remembering the plan. He and Y/N split away from Kaz and Inej, heading towards the roof for their line of entry. When Jesper had heard this part of the plan, he had complained viciously. Why should he have to go scale the building alone with Y/N? Why couldn’t Inej go instead? In the end, it hadn’t mattered- the plan needed them both there, so that’s where they would go.

Jesper doesn’t exactly have Inej’s skill in climbing, but ter Steege makes it easy. There are balconies and handholds practically everywhere, as if the merch is offering free mansion climbing lessons to anyone interested. Jesper supposes that one would be less concerned about robberies if you had a moat, but still. You have that much money, you might as well pretend to make it hard for light-fingered con artists.

Soon enough, Jesper and Y/N are standing on the roof, staring down at the fourth skylight from the left. This is where they’ll enter, once it reaches eleven bells and it’s time to move. Now, however, all they can do is wait as Kaz and Inej get into position. Jesper carefully sits down, letting his long legs prop up against the tiles of the roof. Y/N sits next to him, staring up at the sky. The moon is out tonight, the pale light illuminating her eyes and dusting her cheeks.

Distantly, Jesper realizes that he’s never seen her like this- letting her guard down for once. He’s not shooting at her, she’s not trying to drown him, it’s almost like a peace offering. Y/N must be having the same thoughts, because she turns to face him. The moonlight still stays on her face, as if unwilling to let go. Jesper has the sudden thought that he wouldn’t want to do the same either, if he had the opportunity to linger here, then shakes himself mentally.

Y/N’s voice is quiet, a whisper cutting through his thoughts and scattering them to the wind. “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we hadn’t been fighting when we first met each other? Would we have been friends like you and Kaz?” Jesper chuckles in spite of himself. “If you think Kaz Brekker makes friends, I’m starting to think that you’ve suffered a head injury.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “He trusts you. That’s rare.” Jesper shrugs, conceding this. He keeps speaking, though, even when he has just decided to remain silent. “I think we could have been close. We have similar interests.” Y/N raises an eyebrow. “Money? A good time?” Jesper flashes her a grin, easy as flipping a coin and landing it square in your palm. “Exactly. See? We already understand each other perfectly.”

Y/N lets out a short laugh at that, moonlight still teasing at the corner of her lips. Jesper’s eyes linger longer than they should. Curse his tendencies to start rivalries with the prettiest of enemies- it’s beginning to get him into trouble. Y/N’s head tilts towards the tides below, and then she stands. “It’s time. The bells are about to ring.” Jesper mourns the moment lost, then stands and takes his position by the skylight. He waits for the bells to begin to toll, then grabs his revolver, spinning it back and forth in his palm like a nervous tic before firing four times at the corners of the window, exactly where the locks will hold.

He doesn’t miss the way Y/N’s eyes track the spin of the gun, or the admirative tug of her lips into a half smile. However, now is no longer the time for schoolboy glances, and Jesper kneels at the window, carefully removing it from its frame. This is their entrance, and they would do well to hurry along.

The plan almost goes well. Almost. They manage to break into the mercher’s office, stealing the documents and meeting up with Kaz and Inej to get out, but just as they’re about to cross through the main atrium of the mansion, a loud dissonance of bells breaks out. An alarm. Jesper sees identical looks of panic reflected on every face- this was not supposed to happen. Not at all. They don’t hesitate, just run. Jesper’s lived in the Barrel long enough to remember this one lesson: when you can’t count on gangs or anyone to have your back, your feet always will. Just remember to keep moving.

They’re almost to the water’s edge when the shots ring out. Guards have followed them out of the building and fire even as their feet pound down the beach. Jesper’s revolvers are in his hands before another second can pass, bullets aimed with precision as he runs. They’re almost to the water when he hears a sound from behind him that draws all breath from his lungs. From here, it almost sounds like a cry of pain. It’s soft, as if someone’s trying not to draw attention, but Jesper hears it nonetheless.

He turns around and his stomach clenches with horror as he realizes he was right. Y/N is stumbling, clutching a terrible scarlet stain across her chest. It’s deep, too deep, and far too close to her heart to be safe. Y/N has time to fling her arms up, casting out the bridge of water once more, before she falls to the ground. All of a sudden, Jesper’s vision tunnels. He can only see two things: Y/N, hand limp over the spreading blood, and the guards, pistols still smoking.

Jesper’s shots ring out again and again. He can’t hear anything other than a buzzing in his ears, something that might be his pulse or just a sign that he’s gone mad. To be honest, Jesper’s not sure that he cares. Bullets careen through the air, curving around pillars and corners to reach their targets. His da would panic to see him, grab Jesper by his shoulders and tell him to be more careful. Anyone could know now, could see the way the bullets fly through the air as if guided by an invisible hand and figure out what that means, but Jesper doesn’t think about that for a second. All he can think about is revenge, and making sure that every single body falls to the ground.

Jesper’s haze leaves him, and he realizes that all of the guards are dead. All of them. Then his guns are back in their holsters, and he’s scrambling towards Y/N. When he picks her up, she feels cold. Too cold. Blood is staining his hands now, turning the long fingers red, but he barely notices at all. His heels flash down the beach, then onto the water, which is still solid. It must be killing her to keep this up, but she’s still doing it.

Jesper swore that it took far longer to make the trip over the harbor, but it feels like he’s barely taken a few steps before he’s on the other side and the water bridge is swallowed up by the tides once more. Kaz and Inej have just made it onto the other side, and their eyes widen at the crazed look on Jesper and the bloodied form of Y/N in his arms. Jesper doesn’t have time to consider this, and he shouts at them as he runs. “Get a healer! Get somebody- Nina, maybe. Anybody.”

Inej takes off into the streets, but Kaz remains, giving Jesper a particular look. “I remember you saying something about how Y/N was your rival. This is your chance, you know. The Barrel can be a ruthless place, and nobody would suspect you if she never made it back.” Jesper has the feeling that this is a test, some challenge placed before him to see how he’ll respond, but he can’t find it within himself to care. Jesper has always had an affinity for the odds, but this once, it’s not enough. “No. I’m getting her out. I need a Healer.”

Kaz steps back, allowing Jesper to pass, but not before he sees the appraising look in his eyes. Kaz nods once, briefly, and then Jesper is around the corner and sprinting headlong towards the Slat. A Healer is indeed waiting there, and holds out her arms to receive Y/N. For a second, Jesper’s arms clench around her body, unwilling to give her up, and then he forces his arms to relax and she’s gone, carried away into another room.

Jesper is left with the blood staining his shirt and the decision staining his conscience. If Y/N died, was it his fault? Should he care this much? He’s not sure that question can even be answered. The Healer comes out eventually, nodding at him. She’s not ready to have visitors, or at least she won’t be awake to see them, but that doesn’t stop Jesper from disappearing into her room the second the Healer leaves.

Jesper feels his throat close up when he sees her. Y/N is lying stiff and unmoving on a narrow bed, breath unnaturally slow and eyes closed. It’s strange- he’s seen her fiery and powerful, glowing as a Grisha does after they use their powers, but now she looks seconds from death. Jesper’s feet carry him woodenly over to the bed, and he stands there for a moment before reaching down and taking her hand. He doesn’t expect to feel anything at all, yet there’s a slight pressure and her eyelids flicker open.

“What, trying to finish the job?” A slight smile cracks Y/N’s lips, and Jesper feels like he could cry out in relief. Maybe it’s time he takes up Inej’s saints after all. “You’re alright?” She nods, although even this small movement appears to hurt. “As well as one can. I think I have someone to thank for that, though.” Jesper nods slowly. “Yeah, the Healer was great. We should keep her around just in case.”

Y/N laughs, the sound undamaged even as her blood still stains the bandages. “You’re impossible. I’m talking about you.” Jesper’s cheeks feel hot. “Oh.” Now this is unreal- usually he’s the one eliciting blushes, never the other way around. “I couldn’t just leave you there, you know.” She nods once, smiling, and then her eyelids seem too heavy to stay open and she starts to drift off to sleep once more. If Jesper happened to stay with her even after her eyes shut, and even if a kiss just happened to be pressed to her cheek, well, that was nobody’s business but his own.

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