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super-unpredictable98 · 2 years

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Heavenly | The Mortal Instruments AU

Chapter 5: The High Warlock of Brooklyn

Warning: Strong language, a little angst

(Masterlist)

"Hey, y/n... I just wanted to check on you, you said you wanted to be alone, but I'm a little worried. I also wanted to explain the whole Clary thing, it really isn't the way you think. I miss you, and I love you, and I hope we're okay. Anyway, call me. Or just show up at the apartment, I'll be there all day. Did I already say I love you? Okay, um, bye I guess." Simon's voice echoed around your flat through the answering machine.

You didn't know how to feel, on one side you were angry at Clary and Jace for trying to drag you into their mess, on the other you were angry at yourself for not having the nerve to be dragged into their mess, after all, the world needed your abilities. It would be like Spiderman deciding he doesn't wanna be a superhero and just ignoring everything bad going on around him.

And just to make it worse, you were angry at Simon, you were not sure why... Maybe because he didn't tell you that the girl was Clary, maybe because he kept being friends with her even after what happened, maybe because part of you thought he still had feelings for her.

You were angry at Clary for being the girl, for being so beautiful, for being so nice. It was bad enough to imagine Simon with Isabelle, now you had someone else to worry about.

Most of the day was spent in your bed, looking at the wall and thinking, considering every possibility, even going back to California with your parents and praying that all of this goes away. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, so as the night came, you grabbed your phone and...

"y/n?" Simon picked up after a single ring.

"Yeah, hi."

"Thank God, I thought you'd never talk to me again."

"Well, you're my boyfriend, I just needed some time to think."

"Are you mad at me?" He asked hesitantly.

"A little..."

"Because of the Clary thing? Because I don't feel like that anymore, I love you."

"You understand why I have a hard time believing it? You still live together, you're still so close. I can't imagine losing feelings for someone that fast."

"That's because I haven't, I love her, but as a friend. Maybe I just mixed things up in my head, all I know is that I've never felt this way about anyone before and I feel it with you."

"You could've told me," you felt tears gathering in your eyes.

"I'm sorry, angel, I'm really sorry. I should have," he agreed, his voice trembling. "I just didn't want to make things weird, I thought it wasn't important anymore and you were already weirded out when I told you my roommate was a girl."

"I understand, but now it just feels like you were trying to hide it from me because you still like her."

"I would never play with your feelings like this y/n, I swear, you know I'm not like that. If I weren't completely over her, I wouldn't have said that I love you. Can I please come by and explain everything better? I wanna see you, please."

"Fine," you sighed.

"Don't move, I'll be there in a minute."

You thought it was just a figure of speech, but in less than a minute, you heard a knock on your door. Simon was on the other side, not one single drop of sweat or shadow of exhaustion from running nearly a mile from his apartment to yours.

"Hey," you tried not to look at him, not wanting to be hypnotized by his charm. "So what is it?"

"I understand your frustration, I would feel the same in your place, but there's nothing between Clary and me except for friendship."

"How can I ever live up to Clary Fairchild? She's the most powerful shadowhunter, she's the big hero of the story, she's the most special girl, she's your first love... If she loved you back you two would be together now, you're only with me because she rejected you."

"The universe has a weird way of making things happen. Maybe if I wasn't heartbroken that day I went to Java Jones you wouldn't have therapized me and we wouldn't be together, because I would've been way too shy to talk to a beautiful girl like you," Simon followed you inside, closing the door behind him.

"I feel like a consolation prize... And I don't wanna feel like this, because she's your friend. I don't wanna be the person who dislikes her partner's friends because of stupid jealousy," you felt tears running down your face again.

"Everything that happened to me brought me to you. The failure, the heartbreak, it was like a bridge that made it possible for me to meet the one who actually loves me and who I love more than anything," he licked his thumb and used it to wipe your tears, making you instantly relax. "Clary is my friend, I love her as a friend, that's it. There's no living up to, there's no competition, both of you are important to me. I love you so much and it makes me sad that you feel that way."

"I love you too," you muttered under your breath.

"Do you forgive me, angel?" He wrapped his arms around you.

"Yeah," you finally nodded. "But I'm still not joining your friend's cult."

"That's fine, I'm not here to talk about that, I only care about us... Do I get a kiss then?" Simon gave you his best puppy dog eyes.

You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and catching his lips in a passionate kiss.

"Are we good?" He asked while taking you to bed.

"We're good..."

——————————————————

"Where are we going again? Who is this Bane?"

"Magnus Bane, he's a warlock," Simon explained. "Clary invited us to a party he's throwing. Last time I went to one, I got dragged by vampires, I couldn't even enjoy it."

"Oh nononono we're not going there! I don't wanna see Clary, plus that's the place where they kidnapped you!"

"Don't worry, angel, they can't get me now. And Clary is feeling really guilty, she said she wanted to apologize."

"Wait, you've been talking to her? About me? She must think I'm so pathetic! I know she's your friend and I wouldn't ask you to change that, but I don't ever wanna see her again."

"We were talking about how shitty I felt for hurting the girl I love," Simon gave your neck a lick hoping to calm you down, but it only made you angrier.

"Hey! Don't! Don't use your Twilight powers on me! I have always been team Jacob and you're on thin ice!" You tried to wipe it away, but that familiar excitement and the butterflies in your stomach were already there, it was too late. And you hated how much you loved that feeling.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make you feel better. I told you, there's nothing to worry about and I know you'll be great friends if you ever want to. If you don't, that's fine by me, as long as you're happy and still mine... Don't think I could live without your monthly supply of period blood," he teased.

"You dollar store Spike! That's the only reason?"

"Of course not, I can't live without you and I'm already half dead."

"Fine! I'd love to be civil and awkward with Clary, but the demon killers are just gonna try to drag me again, they won't take no for an answer..."

"I promise you y/n, she told me if you don't wanna do it, you don't have to, she won't insist," he chuckled, lifting you up in his arms. "If you really don't wanna go, I'll call her and let her know, but I think we would have a great time."

"You really think so?" You held onto his neck, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I really do."

"Okay, you can put me down, I'll go with you."

"Nah, I'll just take you," he teased as you headed towards a weirdly obscure, industrial side of Brooklyn.

"You're such an ass..." You grunted, but made no effort to come down.

"Oh, sorry, you don't like it when I carry you? Cause I can stop."

"No, I like it..." You quietly hid your face in the crook of Simon's neck.

"Finally!" Alec rolled his eyes as the two of you approached the gates.

Everyone was already there, Alec and Isabelle seemed extremely annoyed for having to wait. Jace didn't seem to mind all that much, mainly because he never seemed to care about anything, that was his thing. Clary was the only one who seemed happy to see them.

"Hey, Si, y/n! I'm so glad you guys decided to come," she moved to give you a hug as Simon put you down.

Alec huffed before turning and knocking. "It's me... And the others," he added unenthusiastically.

"Come up, sweetie, there has been a last-minute change in location, but nothing we can't manage," a soothing voice came through the intercom.

That place was amazing, the decoration was just the right amount of chic and fun. Even without any clue about the shadow world, you'd immediately know a wizard of some sort lived there. The walls were covered in dark paintings with mystical motifs, the lighting was dim and inviting, it smelled like incense, and you were greeted by yet another cat.

"Hey, little guy!" You kneeled to pet him and he immediately started purring, rubbing his head against your thighs. You didn't even notice as the cat's owner emerged from his bedroom wearing shimmery trousers and a black see-through shirt. "Aww! You're so cute!"

"And who is this?" Magnus asked, taking your hand to help you up.

"I'm y/n," you grinned, finally feeling more at ease. That man was not at all what you expected, you thought he would look scary and menacing, or very broody like Jace, but he was like a human disco ball. "I love your outfit, so stylish!"

"Thank you, y/n," he smirked, certainly knowing how amazing he looked. "I haven't seen you before. Alec didn't mention a new member in your gang."

"She's my girlfriend," Simon raised his hand timidly.

"And a child of the Nephilim I see," Magnus tilted his head as he checked the rune on your wrist before looking up at you as if staring into your soul. "So you like cats?"

"I love them, yours is just the cutest. I wish I could adopt one, but my building doesn't allow pets," you sighed wistfully.

"Hmmm I like you, that's a good one," he finally concluded, winking at Simon in approval. You had no idea they could get along, Simon being so shy and Magnus being so extravagant, but they were both downworlders, so maybe that was a stronger bond than you anticipated.

"Are you kidding me, Mag?" Alec rolled his eyes, certainly still mad at Simon for picking you instead of his perfectly gorgeous sister.

"What? She has good taste, and Chairman Meow is an excellent judge of character, he seems to like her," the warlock gestured to the cat, rubbing himself against your legs.

"Yeah, y/n is pretty okay," Isabelle added, almost as if to calm down her brother. She wasn't your biggest fan by any means, but she couldn't deny how happy you made Simon and you were definitely an improvement from his stupid crush on Clary.

"Wow, I didn't know you loved her so much," Jace mocked with a chuckle.

"There's no way anyone could not love her," Clary added, finally breaking the silence. She felt horrible for causing the fight between you and your boyfriend. "She's amazing."

She was antsy to find some time to speak with you in private, but the last thing you needed was a pity speech from the perfect Clary Fairchild... It still stung that she was the first one to hear 'I love you' from the man you loved with all your heart.

"High praise coming from you I imagine..." You simply sneered.

"Enough! You're all bringing down the aura in my house," Magnus clapped dramatically before offering his arm for you to take. "Let's get to that party. I made up a new drink I think you'll love it, y/n."

"I don't usually drink on school nights-"

"Tonight you do, darling."

#mortal instruments #mortal instruments fanfic #mortal instruments simon #city of bones #city of bones fanfic #simon lewis x reader #simon lewis #fanfic #robert sheehan character fic #robert sheehan fanfic

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amethystpath-writes · 3 years

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Monsters and Legends

Don’t worry, it’s fluff :)

(NOT A PR0MPT)

Villain and hero need to stop a bigger villain by somehow acting as a couple, only for them to share a single room and a single bed (im grinning so hard rn) I giggled when I read this request:

******

The phone rang once, twice, three times.

“Why are you calling me?” Hero’s voice was a groan, one annoyed and filled with malice- or was it anxiousness?

Villain understood he was probably the last person Hero would want to hear from. Why would the bad guy of the city be calling her anyways, and how’d he find her number? Those were questions which Hero could ask later. For now- “I need your help,” Villain pleaded right away.

“You need my help?” Hero laughed brittlely on the other end of the line. That’s how Villain heard it, at least. “What makes you think I would ever help y-”

“Supervillain.”

The line went silent as the horror of such a simple name settled in. It wouldn’t matter to Hero how Supervillain’s name still existed- why it was still being muttered, unforgotten. All that meant was that Supervillain was still prevalent, which further meant something needed to be done.

“Is he still alive?”

Well, I suppose that’s a question I can answer for now. “Yes, that’s why I need you. I can’t vanquish him on my own, Hero.”

Yeah? What was Hero supposed to do about it? She wasn’t capable of fighting Supervillain, even if she fought him alongside Villain. The two of them together were still no match for such a beast, a mistake made by nature. Supervillain wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for his ill intentions.

“We beat him before, Hero,” Villain said after another long silence. “We can do it again.”

Hero said, “If we beat him before, then why is he back?” This wasn’t the first time Hero felt hopeless. Even before Supervillain, she had days where she was convinced Villain was unbeatable. She got past that part of her depression, obviously, but it didn’t mean that anxiety didn’t exist elsewhere- such as when it came to Supervillain. “Villain, I quit this business after the first round. I can’t…I can’t do it again.”

“I know.” Villain nodded, even knowing Hero wouldn’t see it on the phone pressed against her ear. “I know, and I get it.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t have called.”

Villain sighed. Maybe she was right, but… “You’re the only one I know who can pull this off.”

“Pull what off, Villain? What plan have you made up that you think might actually be enough? We killed Supervillain. We killed him, and yet you’re telling me that he’s alive? We can’t beat him.”

How could Villain say this? How did he portray this compliment without it sounding like an insult? “Where you lack in strength, you lead in intelligence. You- you’re able to think things out in a moment, whereas it takes me ages. You are so much more capable than you think you are and, believe it or not, I have always admired you.”

Right. Hero wasn’t so certain Villain was telling the truth. Sure, she was smart, and she could even admit that, but…intelligence couldn’t defeat an undead man. Even if it did, what made Villain say something kind to her? He would never spare a compliment to someone as poor as Hero; he wouldn’t spare an insult either. And anyways, who would admire an anxious mess? Not a villain, not by any means, right?

“Why do you need me? What has made you turn to a last resort?” Last resort, meaning asking anyone for help when Villain preferred to work alone.

Villain’s palms were sweating, his phone nearly sliding out of his hand the longer he remained on the line. “He wants my allegiance. Rejecting him would be a death sentence, and you know it. I don’t want to die. Not now. Not just yet. At the same time, I am not going to work for or with this guy.”

Hero was still failing to understand. “How do I fit into this,” she rephrased, “beyond you needing my intelligence?”

“Supervillain never knew you. He doesn’t know your face, your name, your priorities.”

“And?”

“And I told him I have a wife who insists on working with me.”

No. No, no, no. No. But she didn’t say this. “So, you are asking me to jeopardize my own life by appearing at your side as a fake wife who doesn’t know how to properly defend herself.”

“I could teach you, Hero. I’m trained. Strength means nothing if your opponent has technique. I can teach you,” Villain repeated, hands heating impossibly more. “Do this for me and I’ll- I’ll…”

Precisely. “There is nothing you can offer me, Villain.”

“If you don’t do this,” Villain returned, gripping his phone with white knuckles, and curled toes which dug into his carpeted floor, “everyone else will suffer for it. Yourself, included. I don’t know about you, but I think you’ve suffered enough.”

You don’t mean that, Hero wanted to say. You don’t mean anything nice that you’re saying. You’re just desperate. You know that I’ll do anything if it means someone will tell me they’re proud of me at the end of the day. She thought this of everyone- even herself, only she knew someone else was more likely to say they were proud of her than herself.

How did anyone ever call her a hero when she couldn’t even save her own mind from destroying itself?

Easy.

She was a villain to herself, and a hero to others.

“How do I know he’s alive? Am I supposed to take your word for it?”

Villain almost said yes, but he knew Hero would require proof. She didn’t trust herself, let alone anyone else in the world. “There is no evidence of him, but if you’d like to handcuff me every moment we are alone, then I suppose I will hand that to you as your security.”

Hero’s eyes widened. She didn’t have handcuffs; she was no officer, but for Villain to say that, and with such a serious tone…he wouldn’t say something so disadvantageous to him if he didn’t mean it- if it weren’t necessary to gain Hero’s assistance.

“What will it mean,” Hero asked, “to be your wife?”

***

“Supervillain paid for our room.”

Our room? Hero blinked hard before glancing around the hotel lobby. Well, it was beautiful, but Hero hardly had the brain capacity to think about that. “You said our room,” she commented, lips thin and an eyebrow quirked.

“We’re husband and wife.”

“We’re pretending to be husband and wife,” Hero said in a hush-hush tone, hand squeezing Villain’s for umph.

Even as she said it quietly, Villain scolded her lightly, “Lower your voice if you’re going to say things like that.” Villain began his trek to the elevator, arm extending behind him as Hero followed, hand still in his. As much as she hated this act, she sure did like to hold his hand, it seemed. Maybe it was her anxiety which told her any hand was a good hand, even if it were stained in life after life of blood and tears.

“I don’t want to share a room with you,” Hero whispered, so low that Villain wouldn’t have heard her fully had he not turned his ear towards her as they walked down the hall of the seventh floor. “How will I know you won’t take advantage of me?”

Right. No handcuffs. “You think I’d try to kill you after I called you and begged for your help?”

“It could be a trap,” Hero said, tugging her hand out of Villain’s, stopping in the middle of the hall.

“Maybe. But imagine if it isn’t a trap. Imagine you back out now, and the world goes extinct. What regrets would you have then? Surely, they wouldn’t be as bad as committing yourself to a trap, causing only yourself harm instead of billions.”

His tone wasn’t condescending, but it held such magnificence that Hero couldn’t help but cast her eyes downward and nod in silent guilt. Guilt because why couldn’t she have thought of such a scenario on her own? Was she selfish for being so afraid of Villain?

“You’re right.” Hero nodded. “You’re right and I’m sorry.”

Villain took her hand in his own again, softly, with fragile care. “You don’t need to apologize. Your nerves aren’t without reason. I’ll admit I’m not the most trustworthy man. I get it. Remember you are not jeopardizing yourself for me. You’re doing it for the world.”

***

The bed was comfortable- even with Villain laying by Hero’s side. Actually, Villain being by her side might have been what made it so comfortable. The blanket which the hotel provided was too warm, but the body heat which Villain radiated was just comfortable enough that Hero struggled to keep her distrusting eyes open.

“I don’t believe this,” Hero whispered in the dark of the room, expecting Villain to be fast asleep. Apparently, he slept as little as she did.

Villain rolled flat against the mattress before turning on his other side to face Hero, earning a light gasp of surprise from her. “About Supervillain?” he asked- suggesting that Supervillain was still alive.

After regaining a state of sanity, Hero mumbled that, yes, Supervillain being alive seemed unreal, but that wasn’t what she meant. She meant that she was laying next to a man who she both despised and was deathly frightened of, and yet she was comfortable with it- comfortable with his heat. It shouldn’t have meant much; it was only science at play, but it still irked her. Of course, Hero didn’t say any of this.

“It isn’t so bad sharing a bed, is it?” Villain yawned and did a little stretch with his arms, groaning as the skin and muscles of his torso stretched. “You have your side. I have mine.”

“Not so bad,” she agreed.

There was still a danger to it, Hero acknowledged. She was still side-by-side with a villain, still frightened by the thought of Villain silently reaching over the moment he heard Hero’s breathing slowing, pushing a knife against her sleeping body, and shiv her through without a thought. It was possible, and it was likely, wasn’t it?

“Have you thought about what you’ll do tomorrow?” Villain asked.

“Me?” Hero swallowed. “I…no, I haven’t thought about it.”

“That’s unlike you.”

Hero turned her head over her shoulder, finding Villain’s moonlight glinting eyes. “Asking someone for help is unlike you. What made you do it?”

“I couldn’t do it alone. I told you-”

“That’s not the truth. Well, it is, but it’s not the full truth.” Hero paused. “When have you ever admitted that you aren’t enough to accomplish a goal? You sought me out for my intelligence, but what else? You don’t ask for help, Villain. It’s not who you are.”

Silence followed, giving hero enough time to gather the courage it took to roll over, to face Villain with her whole body like he did with her before yawning.

“I’m scared,” Villain said, matter-of-factly. “I’m scared that when it is all over, then history will forget me for all the terrible things I’ve done.”

Confused, Hero asked, “Wasn’t the reason you chose the dark side because your crimes would be so extravagantly memorable?” This conversation wasn’t aiding Hero’s underlying fear of lying in bed with Villain. Still, she wanted answers.

“I realized I was wrong. If I don’t do something good for once, I’ll be remembered as a monster, and you see, I want to be remembered as a legend.” Villain drew in a deep breath, turning his head slightly away from Hero before exhaling. “There’s a difference between monsters and legends, I realized. Honour is legendary; Fear is monstrous. Having said that, there’s no fear in honour, so what’s the point in all those criminal activities except mindlessness and naivety? It’s not as fun or rewarding as I thought it’d be.”

“You stay awake and think at night like I do, don’t you?”

Villain nodded. Hero nodded.

Hero’s hand slid across the sheets until her fingertips touched Villain’s. Holding his hand was comforting when she considered they would be meeting Supervillain tomorrow- that Villain’s face would be the only familiar one, the only one she could trust even though she hardly even trusted it at all.

Hearing what Villain said now, in the deepest stage of the night…maybe he was worth trusting.

Maybe there was a good reason she was holding his hand.

And maybe there was a good reason she enjoyed the warmth that rolled off her body.

Maybe there was a reason beyond anxiousness and fear that made Hero’s heart beat a little faster than usual.

“Do you think we could both be legends?” Hero asked, to which Villain responded, with a tight squeeze of Hero’s hand:

“I do.”

It wasn’t the only time he would utter those words. Next time, Hero would be wearing a white gown, and Villain, a tux.

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celebrities-imagines · 3 years

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Could we get a emily prentiss x reader were the reader tells emily SHES pregnat and emily Is all happy

A Not So Secret, Secret

Thanks for the request, sorry it took so long. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem reader

Summary: Emily didn’t think she could be happier after the two of you married, but somehow it’s possible after hearing about the new addition to the family.

Warnings: Pregnancy, a bit of angst at first, mentions of miscarriage, and like one or two swear words.

Words: 1.9k

It was supposed to be your day off, just you and Emily. One day as a normal married couple. Not two FBI profiles who barely had a social life.

You couldn't help but groan as Emily stirred beside you, tangling her body further with yours. You kissed her shoulder whispering a "sorry" on her skin before untangling yourself.

There was no way out of it, so you picked up the phone and cursed everything when Hotch's voice came through.

The two of you couldn't hide your disappointment as you grabbed your go-bags and headed over to work.

You were the last two to arrive.

Hotch briefed you all when you got on the plane, mentioning Texas and 5 bodies, but that's all you caught. You could hardly hear over the sound of your stomach beginning to reject the Chinese you eat for dinner last night.

———————————————————————

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes, praying you could keep the food down. If you couldn't, you'd cause a scene. Even if Emily was the only one who didn't know.

You could feel her eyes on you, so you gave a small smile. Hopefully, you just seemed tired. It was 7 am after all.

She gave your hand a small squeeze.

Images of a month ago played in your mind.

After missing your period again, you had to face the hunch you'd had for a few weeks now. You took the test. You were more than surprised to see it was positive.

How could you not be surprised?

Weeks before that you'd gone to a fertility doctor and decided on a sperm donor. Emily was on a case and couldn't come, but had confided in you before she left she'd rather you carry the baby, and you happily agreed.

Unfortunately, at the doctor's they informed you that your fertility was lower than average. Therefore, you were more at risk for miscarriages and less likely to conceive.

The doctor made it clear that it still wasn't impossible to have kids, just more difficult.

You were extremely discouraged by the news, worried you were ruining your future with Emily.

They told you not to get discouraged, it rarely happened the first time for anyone anyway, and there was still a chance you could get pregnant.

You went home that day, defeated, feeling hopeless and lonely, but you didn't tell Emily about your low fertility, afraid you'd upset her.

But nowhere you were. A positive pregnancy test in hand. You couldn't wrap your head around how it was possible.

Excitement bubbled in your chest at the thought of telling Emily the news. But with the doctor's words echoing in your head, more likely to miscarry, your excitement quickly disappeared.

You knew Emily would be thrilled. She had told you on more than one occasion how excited she was to start a family.

Still, the fear of losing this child and disappointing Emily was so deep you just couldn't tell her.

Not then at least.

Your eyes shot open. The churning of your stomach only seemed to worsen as you got higher in the air.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on Rossi's story, but you only caught bits and pieces. Your spotty vision could make out smiles, so you smiled too.

You just hoped your face wasn't as pale as it felt. Convincing a plane of profilers you were fine wasn't easy, and the look JJ shot you every few seconds was her way of asking, "how are you feeling?" Which you knew she knew the answer to.

She had been the only person you'd confided in, considering she had gone through it all before.

You had a sneaking suspicion they all knew though. Spencer had started giving random pregnancy facts, which earned him a death glare every time. Derek started calling you mama more, with too much emphasis on the word. Hotch gave you a meaningful look every time you rushed past him to the bathroom in the early morning, and you weren't entirely convinced Rossi didn't know before you, somehow. The only other person besides Emily who didn't know was Penelope, which you were sure of. If Penelope knew then the whole FBI would know.

The smell of bacon hit your nose causing your stomach to somersault. You glared at Derek, who was just about to take a bite of his bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit, but one look at you and he decided against it, putting it away.

You swallowed hard again, trying to push back the vomit creeping up your throat.

"You okay (Y/n)? You look a little pale." Emily whispered in your ear, forcing you to stop concentrating on not puking.

You gave a weak smile, nodding your head.

"I don't believe you." Her eyebrows had creased together.

"Em, I'm-" Talking had been a big mistake.

You jumped up from the seat. All eyes were on you, 5 looks of pity, and one of concern, but you didn't care. You knew there was no chance of you pushing the vomit down.

Your shaky legs bolted to the bathroom, barely closing the door before you spilled your guts. It was a relief to finally get it all out.

You slumped against the toilet. Any other time you would've been grossed out by your face touching the toilet seat, but it was cooling your sweaty face.

You didn't realize you were crying at first. Not until you lifted your heavy head off the toilet seat and felt the cool drops of water slipping down your face.

What was wrong with you?

You were pregnant your first time trying; after being told you'd have trouble, living the dreams of thousands of women in the same situation.

Why weren't you glowing? Why couldn't you just tell Emily, she'd be ecstatic?

"(Y/n), sweetheart," you jumped at the sound of Emily's voice.

Didn't you lock that door? How long had she been standing there?

"Hey Em," you gave a half-hearted smile, but it was pointless. You hadn't bothered to wipe the tears.

She closed the door behind her. It locked for real this time with a click.

The small bathroom left little room for the two of you, and when Emily slid down beside you your knees knocked together.

"You're scaring me (Y/n)," she placed a soft kiss on your head. "All of the throwing up, and mood swings. You've been so antsy recently.

So she had noticed. "I'm sorry," you said, followed by more tears. "I promise I'm not sick or anything."

"I know."

"So why are you scared." You fidgeted with your fingers, nervous about the direction of this conversation.

"Because my wife has been pregnant for a month and is too afraid to tell me. And I can't for the life of me figure out why she'd keep that from me."

Your head whipped towards hers so fast you almost smashed it right into her forehead. "Y-you knew the whole time," you gulped.

"Of course I did!" She exclaimed. "First of all I'm a profiler it's my job to notice. Second of all, you're my wife, I love you. It's my job to notice.

Your cheeks flushed crimson. The whole time you thought you were fooling her, you were just fooling yourself.

"So...do you care to explain why you didn't tell me. Did you not want to tell me," her voice cracked, but she cleared her throat quickly to cover it.

You guiltily chewed on your lip. Emily had known for a month and probably wondered every day why her wife couldn't tell her such exciting news.

"No, no of course not," you squeaked.

"(Y/n), angel, please. What is it? Why couldn't you tell me?"

You took a deep breath. "When I went to the fertility clinic the doctor told me my fertility was a little below average. There's a chance I could have a miscarriage," you sobbed.

Emily turned her body so the two of you were somehow closer. "Shhh, it's okay. You're okay," she said, pressing you to her body.

"I'm sorry. I want this for us. I want to be happy, but I'm just so scared I'll mess this up."

"Look at me (Y/n). You're not going to mess anything up. Women miscarry all the time. For some awful reason, it's part of life. It's nobody's fault."

Emily wiped a tear off your cheek. You didn't say anything, just watched her.

"Don't profile me," a crooked smile found her lips.

You smiled back. "I wasn't."

"Listen, I know you're scared. I am too, but we have to take it a day at a time. Right now there's a miracle growing inside you. Our miracle." Her eyes flicked to your stomach, and for the first time since you found out, you were pregnant excitement bubbled in your chest again. "If we worry about the what if's we won't have time to focus on the what is." This time she placed her hand on your flat stomach.

You smiled, wide.

"See. There's already a motherly glow about you."

The more Emily said the more the worry began to fade, excitement replacing it.

You were gonna start a family.

"Em."

"Yeah."

"I have to tell you something."

"Yeah."

"I'm pregnant, it's yours." She nudged you playful, even she had a motherly glow about her right now.

"What! You're just telling me now," she teased.

You smiled.

"I'm truly sorry I didn't tell you sooner," you mumbled, placing your hand over Emily's, which was still on your stomach.

"Well, I know now, and you've officially made me the happiest woman alive." She placed a sweet kiss on your lips. "Thank you (Y/n)."

"We're going to be parents!"

"The best parents!" Emily added. "We are, aren't we."

"Now come on, they'll think we've fallen into the toilet by this time."

You laughed. "We can't have that."

Emily stood up, offering her hand, which you took happily.

She placed one last kiss on your lips, then grabbed your hand before you open the door. You always stayed professional at work.

When you opened the door Derek almost fell on top of you. "Hey Mamas," he said, a shit-eating grin taking over his face.

"We're you guys spying?" You asked.

Emily chuckled, squeezed your hand, and headed back to her seat.

Nobody answered.

Spencer was looking anywhere but you, JJ was pretending to get a bag of Cheetos, and Rossi and Derek were smiling shamelessly.

"At least Hotch isn't a snoop," you noted. Your boss was still in his chair doing paperwork.

You shoved Derek playfully and headed back to your seat next to Emily. She automatically reached for your hand.

"Actually, Spencer objected, Hotch listened at the door with us for 5 min and 23 seconds before saying, 'We shouldn't be listening to this."

Hotch didn't even look up from his paperwork, but a rare smile was playing at his lips. "We shouldn't have been. But congratulations you two."

"Thank you!" You and Emily said in unison.

It wasn't brought up the rest of the flight but you could feel the air of excitement and relief nonetheless.

The rest of the flight was filled with little conversation and file reviewing.

Every so often you'd look over at Emily, who was looking out the window, a big grin plastered on her face, her hand on your stomach.

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1kook · 4 years

Text

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart.

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #jimin smut #park jimin smut #pjm #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x reader smut #park jimin x reader #park jimin x reader smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #mine

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enhyupn · 3 years

Text

ʚ jungwon as your bff turned boyfriend!

tagging @youreverydayzebra @ncityy04 <3

yang jungwon x gn!reader

fluff, slight angst if you squint, no warnings, word count: 1k

a/n dedicated to @woniepop <3 ALSO i added another little heading to this for funzies and i feel like i got carried away writing this so my bad .

ʚ bfe (best friend era)

helps you everything... and literally everything

you two always end up grocery shopping for some reason

you have a unlimited supply of jungwon’s hoodies and you basically live at his house too

he always videos you eating when you two eat out so he has an album on his phone of you slurping noodles

sends you random pictures and will go “it reminded me of you <3” even if it’s like something stupid like a cat with a party hat on

tags you in so many tiktoks and fills your dms with them too

spams when he wants your attention

ikea trips!! but it’s just you two looking at the rooms and the succulents .

realised he liked you when you started talking about your crush on riki

he was so jealous and spent days trying to figure out what to do

never shows you his clingy side. ever.

ʚ confession era (ce)

— wind blowing through jungwon’s hair was the least of his worries, nothing about the way his hair fell flat compared to the unsettling feeling you gave him in his stomach. his eyes trailed your smiling expression, your blissful grin being present in most of the features on your face. there was something different in your eyes, in the way you had talked about nishimura riki. why did jungwon always feel this way at the sound of another boy’s name, more or less a boy he was also close friends with?

the way you would sweetly say his name like it was the most precious thing in the world irked jungwon. why wasn’t it him? why wasn’t he the one being happily mentioned by you? the way you would cheesily sigh out at the end of every sentence made him more upset each and every second. he wanted to say something but he didn’t even know himself what he was going to say. how was he supposed to tell his best friend of years that he was in love with them? the type of love that isn’t platonic, the type of love where you want them and only them. the type of love where you can’t live without the other person.

“and then he—” that was the last straw.

with clenched fists in attempt to hide this new bundle of nerves, he turns to you with a serious look on his face. your mouth slowly turned into a stop at his softened eyes and uneven breathing, the first thought coming to you being that he was feeling very unwell, sick to be more exact. with widen eyes you hold your hand to his forehead, confusing the boy but still making him heat up with an unstoppable blush.

“you’re on fire!” you gasp, the concerned expression plastered on your face made jungwon’s heart melt at the fact you looked so terrified for him. “it’s not that cold out here too— should i go buy some hot tea—”.

“i like you” jungwon was never one to buy into his impulsive choices, although, it looks like he wanted to try his chance at this with all the luck he had saved up throughout his years. you couldn’t forget the bliss on his face when he had finally let those words out, like weight being lifted off his shoulders.

with a blank stare you finally lower your hand away from his forehead, feeling the slight disappointment the loss of heat came with. the boy would never admit it but, sweat slowly started to drip down the back of his neck, his cool calm composure hiding the sirens endlessly screaming inside his head. the only thing adding to his silent panic was your growing grin that looked a little too ominous.

“you don’t need to accept—” his potential rejection was cut short by a small surprise planned on your part.

with your arms wrapped about his you could feel his heart beating a million times per second, a small chuckle escaping jungwon’s mouth as he mirrored your actions. “you’re so stupid” your words wobbled, your eye sight becoming more blurry as the seconds passed by. “of course i like you too”.

“are you crying?” his hearty laugh only made you cry even harder, digging your face into the crook of his neck. you shake your head, trying to trick him into believing that you weren’t an emotional mess. you feel his hand playing with your hair on the top of your head, the feeling of your heart beating faster than ever.

“i’m glad...” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the top of your forehead. “i’m glad i’m the one you’re choosing”.

ʚ bfe (boyfriend era)

turns out that you only used riki as a rebound because you thought jungwon wouldn’t like you (sorry riki)

you two have so many succulents that you share and have names for

you call them your children

never not holding hands, linking arms, hugging... you two are never apart no matter the reason

you wear couple shoes and hats because you want everyone to know that you’re dating yang jungwon

so many couple pictures on the feed... nobody can ever escape them

library dates all the time but it always ends up with you two playing games on the library computer

always going to new restaurants together as dates to see if you two like it or not

jungwon only ever tells you if he’s jealous if he thinks it’ll get serious

you two rarely fight but when you do and it gets really serious the both of you apologise the next day over facetime crying your eyes out for forgiveness

you play with each other’s hair a lot but it’s mainly jungwon

jungwon loves it when you put his hair into pigtails

he ties your laces for you and you melt at it every time he does it

endless loveable teasing from the both of you because none of you know how to flirt properly

ʚ songs that remind him of you!

— you were beautiful, day6

and with a tired yawn

you’d tell me that you loved me, i’ll be fine

and that’s what got me through the day alright

— dance with me, beabadoobee

and i know it's hard to tell

but i think i really like you

— i hope the world never ends, postcard boy

i’ll stay your best friend

until the world ends

ʚ everyday things with jungwon!

— disclaimer: i tried to find a more gender neutral picture for the ft call but this is the best i could do </3

#enhypenwriters #hybenet #prism.nw #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen timestamps #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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bestworstcase · 3 years

Text

on ‘villainy’ and varian’s and cassandra’s moral codes

for all that varian’s and cassandra’s villain arcs get compared to death they’re really more different than they are similar, and i think one of the more interesting distinctions is the characters’ moral perspectives on their own actions--namely that varian recognizes his own choices as villainous and consciously self-identifies as a ‘bad guy’ and cassandra not only…doesn’t do that but appears legitimately taken aback when varian says she’s ‘become the villain.’ from this we can infer that varian is transgressing his own personal sense of right and wrong while cassandra isn’t.

and… well with varian i think it’s pretty straightforward: he’s a kid who desperately wants to make the world a better place and make his father proud, but his impulsivity and recklessness and general disregard for lab safety foil his plans and get him into trouble. then one of his accidents puts his dad into what is essentially a magical coma and varian becomes singularly focused on reviving him--and, when he realizes that the king is more invested in covering up the problem than fixing it and his only hope lies with a zealously guarded relic belonging to the kingdom, he decides that the only way to achieve this goal is to start breaking the rules.

so he asks rapunzel--his friend who promised to help him--to retrieve some information the king is trying to steal from him, and then persuades her to help him access the sundrop vault; then when she balks at stealing it he makes it clear that he no longer trusts her and escapes with the flower. at this point he’s in the morally dubious zone; being strategic about what he tells rapunzel to make sure she helps him, spiking cookies with truth serum to sow chaos and get information he needs, and doing things that are crimes on paper but also largely victimless. i think these were things varian could probably rationalize as okay--not exactly good, but no one got hurt and he got what he needed.

except the flower’s magic is gone. he drugged the palace, manipulated rapunzel and broke her trust in him, and committed treason all for something useless because the actual magic of the sundrop is in rapunzel herself. now he’s in trouble, because he needs rapunzel’s help but his desperate measures guaranteed she won’t be willing to help him again. and this is when varian realizes that his only options are 1. give up on saving his dad and turn himself in and hope rapunzel takes pity on him, or 2. accept that no one is going to help him now and do whatever it takes to free quirin himself.

so--mutating ruddiger, attacking the city, kidnapping arianna and threatening her with encasement in amber, building an automaton army to defend him while he works--these are all things that varian feels are wrong, but chooses to do anyway because he doesn’t trust that anyone else will even try to save his father. despite his anger and his rationalizations, at the end of the day varian sees himself as doing bad things for good reasons. (“Believe me, I know/I’ve sunk pretty low” & “I’m the bad guy, that’s fine”)

and when his reasons fall through--when he fails to free his dad--he falls quickly into guilt and despair over having hurt people for nothing. he stews for a year in how unforgivable and ashamed he feels, and even when he teams up with the separatists, he’s doing it in, basically, pursuit of a reset button: he wants to take back what he did. and when rapunzel shows him that he can be forgiven, he can have a second chance, he does have people who are willing to help him and trust him again, he drops the memory-wiping idea and his alliance with the separatists without a second thought--because what rapunzel actually does is give him a way to pursue his goals without sacrificing his conscience, which is what he really needed the whole time.

now, cassandra, on the other hand…

cass is an interesting character in this regard because, while she does want to be a hero, she’s not at all altruistic. she’s consumed by her lack of autonomy and she craves not only control over her own life but also respect from the people around her--her desire to be a hero is very self-interested, at its core. and moreover she has a somewhat fatalistic view of the world wherein some people (not her) matter and some… just don’t.

moreover cassandra, despite her ambitions of becoming a guard, doesn’t so much as blink at eugene’s or the pub thugs’ criminal pasts--she is suspicious of lance at first, but on the grounds that he’s an unrepentant thief who showed up out of the blue under suspicious circumstances to ‘reconnect’ with his old partner in crime; eugene is also distrustful of lance, for the exact same reasons--and of course she doesn’t think twice about breaking the law herself. literally one of the very first things we see cassandra do is commit treason to make her friend happy. cass doesn’t care about the law, and she only wants to be a guard because she associates getting the job with having her dad’s approval and it’s also her ticket out of lifelong servitude.

on the other hand, cass does seem have a strong sense of right and wrong where people she cares about are concerned. she is constantly putting the desires and well-being of her friends ahead of not just her ambitions (e.g. in beginnings for rapunzel, or great expotations for varian) but also her own safety (e.g. risking her livelihood and home to sneak rapunzel out for the night in bea, or setting aside her misgivings about the sketchy bird people in freebird).

which is all to say--cass isn’t exactly amoral but the moral framework through which she sees the world is… more complicated than varian’s. she doesn’t seem particularly motivated to help strangers but she’ll move mountains to help people she cares about; she doesn’t care much about rules or laws except insofar as she doesn’t want to get caught breaking them, and she has this hierarchical mindset that some people matter--meaning, they get to make decisions for themselves and have people care about what they need and want--and some don’t, and that she herself is stuck in the latter category despite her best efforts to climb out of it.

which brings us to the subject of the moonstone, and cassandra’s villain arc, and why cass, unlike varian, doesn’t consider herself a bad person.

i think what it comes down to most is this: taking the moonstone is an act of defiance against not only rapunzel but also fate itself. waiting in the wings sets up cassandra’s resigned acceptance of this hierarchical order and her own cosmic insignificance, and then in crossing the line she REJECTS that same order. she’s raging against rapunzel but also against the cultural and legal and destined systems that put rapunzel on top and forced cass into subservience. she is very literally fighting for her freedom against the universe itself.

and when cass was not an altruistic or heavily morally motivated or even particularly law-abiding person before, and when her conscience has always been predominantly oriented around taking care of her friends first and herself second, and when the thing that drove her to this breaking point was her friends spitting that back in her face… well.

it’s easy to say “cass literally tried to murder rapunzel a bunch of times, how can she possibly believe she’s the good guy?”--but rapunzel maimed cass, blamed her for it, and consistently prioritized her destiny over cassandra’s wellbeing; and rapunzel represents the cosmic order that cass is fighting to liberate herself from. and while i know that the -popular- take on be very afraid is “cass is terrified of hurting rapunzel,” i submit it’s actually “cass is terrified of having to fight rapunzel, because she still believes that fate is literally tilted in rapunzel’s favor and she can’t win a direct fight with rapunzel.” that’s why she’s so scared; that’s why rapunzel seemingly deleting the red rocks hardens her resolve; that’s why she marches into corona with maximum drama and bluster and builds a fortress and tries so hard to mess with rapunzel’s head before the battle begins. she’s trying to even the odds. and that’s why, when rapunzel stomps her into the curb, cassandra’s immediate response is “i need an army.”

cassandra isn’t scared for rapunzel. she is scared OF rapunzel.

we do also see cass trying not to harm people she considers to be innocent bystanders; she uses the truth serum on varian bc she needs the incantation, but afterwards she doesn’t even bother to restrain him until after he starts pestering her, she says flat out that she doesn’t want him to get hurt when she fights rapunzel; similarly she is willing to hurt calliope to force rapunzel to comply, but--despite her deep personal dislike of calliope--uses a minimum amount of force and again verbally expresses that she doesn’t particularly want to hurt her, that it’s a means to an end and nothing more. attacking rapunzel? that’s fine, rapunzel is her enemy. attacking eugene? of course, he’s rapunzel’s closest ally. mind controlling the brotherhood? that kills two birds with one stone--eliminating powerful enemies with a vested interest in taking the moonstone away from her and turning them into allies who can level the playing field between her and rapunzel. and when she does finally snap and raze corona to the ground? the people of corona attacked her first. i think cass ABSOLUTELY sees herself as fighting a purely defensive war against people who have or will hurt her.

and this is, of course, ultimately why varian failed to get through to her during ‘nothing left to lose’--he appealed to her sense of morality and her sense of morality shrugged.

as for the thing that snaps her out of it? the moment that forces her to question whether she’s really as right as she thinks she is? it’s learning who her new friend really is. it’s the shock of finding out that she’s been allied with, confiding in, taking advice from a legendary villain, from a monster she likely grew up hearing stories about. cass takes it as a given that zhan tiri is evil--and if she’s friends with zhan tiri, what does that make her? and even then, cass is resistant to the idea that she might be a villain--“No, no, I’m nothing like you. Just because I’m pursuing my destiny doesn’t make me a bad person!”--which is, ultimately, very telling of her whole mindset. she’s not a bad guy, she’s fighting for her freedom. she’s not a bad guy, she’s protecting herself against people who want to exploit her. she’s not a bad guy, she’s just putting herself first for once.

and OAH generally, i’d argue, is not actually about cassandra trying to reconcile with rapunzel or redeem herself or be a better person, it’s… literally cass trying frantically to prove she’s NOT the bad guy. it’s “oh yeah? you think i’m a bad person? well could a bad guy do THIS? *lies and impersonates a former coworker and gets up on a stage to justify her own actions in front of a crowd*” it’s “a bad guy wouldn’t apologize, rapunzel never apologized for anything, and to prove i’m a better person I’M going to apologize! see? SEE!?”--and then everyone in corona attacks her and she goes “FINE, i’m the bad guy, fuck you all” and wrecks the place.

only then--only in plus est en vous--does cassandra get into a mindset similar to varian’s, of “i am the bad guy but if i can pull this off it will be worth it.” she’s not sorry. she still sees rapunzel as an enemy trying to get her under control again, and the only thing that’s really changed is cassandra acknowledging that she has in fact done bad things too.

and… i would argue that by the end of plus est cassandra… feels some guilt but isn’t sorry. “i’ve failed” and “i’ve done terrible things” and “i tried to prove i was more than everyone thought but they were right”--her anguish is not like varian’s anguish in RR, where he was consumed with despair because no one could possibly forgive him for the things he did. cassandra is upset because she did awful things and failed and she perceives that failure as proof of her own worthlessness. she’s right back to feeling how she felt in waiting in the wings but with a hefty new helping of self-disgust and shame for having been stupid enough to believe she could change anything for herself.

she’s not sorry. she’s not pleading for forgiveness. she just wants rapunzel to give up and leave her alone--& then, after rapunzel convinces her that she’s wrong, and she does have worth as a person, and she does have a destiny of her own, cass does what’s necessary to clean up the crisis she created and then… just bounces. she gets the freedom she wanted and leaves without a backward glance.

(which. good for her.)

tl;dr: varian’s villain arc explores his moral scruples and what it takes for him to be willing to ignore them, whereas cassandra’s villain arc explores her incendiary reaction to a lifetime of injustices; she isn’t amoral but her sense of right and wrong is, unlike varian’s, very contextual and personal. varian is a pragmatic idealist who wants to be lawful good but is capable of setting his own morals aside in pursuit of a goal he considers to be important enough, and cassandra is one radicalizing incident away from realizing that her grievances are not a unique personal failing but a systemic problem and then leading a class uprising.

#tts

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bwbatta · 3 years

Text

The one where your secret gets harder to keep (2)

Abstract: Y/N and Sirius have been friends since they first met on the Hogwarts Express, so when they do get together, they decide not to tell their friends straight away. (Friends AU)

Pairing: Sirius Black x Lupin!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 4.1K

A/N: Are we all ready for part two?! I won’t lie, I can’t believe how quickly I wrote this.

Sirius had barely made himself his morning cup of tea before the fireplace flushed with green flames and his best mate walked out into his lounge.

“Prongs, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit at... 10am?! You couldn’t have come a bit later, mate?”

“I thought this was later.” James shrugged, taking a seat on the sofa. Sirius poured another mug of tea, handing it to James as he took the armchair opposite. “It’s about your recent greeting method.”

“My greeting method?”

“Yeah, you and all your... kissing. Stop it.”

Sirius couldn’t help the bubble of laughter which escaped his mouth. Obviously he hadn’t planned on kissing Lily and Marlene, but just the fact James was so wound up about it made the wizard grin.

“My kissing?”

“Pads-”

“No, Prongs, please go on, what about my kissing.” Sirius relaxed back into the armchair taking a sip of his tea. “Are you... jealous?”

“Padfoot-”

“Because if you don’t want me to leave you out of all my kissing, then all you have to do is ask.”

“Sirius I don’t want you bloody kissing me! Or Lily for that matter.”

The laughter which escaped Sirius was loud enough for Remus to exit his own room to investigate what had the man so amused.

“Prongs? What’s going on?”

“Prongsie is jealous I’m not kissing him,” Sirius snickered which caused James to throw a cushion at his face.

“Fuck off Pads.” James rolled his eyes. “I just want you to stop kissing my wife.”

“It was one kiss Prongs, I was trying something out.” Sirius chuckled. “But note taken, I’ll stop kissing Lily.”

“And Y/N too if you don’t mind.” Remus said taking the seat next to James. “I don’t like seeing you make out with my sister.”

“So I can kiss, Mar?” Sirius grinned as both men shot him an unamused look. “Alright fine, no more kissing the girls in front of you.”

Lily and Marlene anyway, Sirius thought to himself.

The fireplace flashed again with green flames and Peter stepped out into the room.

“Wormy, where’ve you been?!” James grinned in greeting as Peter took the other armchair after declining a cup of tea from Remus.

“Some Order mission Dumbledore sent me and the Prewett twins on. Apparently we’re going to recap it at the meeting today.”

“Anything interesting happen?” Remus asked.

“Nothing much, something odd but the twins know more about it than I do.”

The four boys continued their little catch up, including Sirius telling Peter about how James was jealous he’s kissed his wife and not him, which earned him another cushion to the face.

Before long, the small group had finished their tea and were exiting the flat through the fireplace as they appeared in the Order headquarters. The headquarters were set up at the witch, Emmeline Vance’s home.

Seeing the girls already present, the foursome of boys made their way over towards their friends and took their seats. Sirius took the seat next to you and through his arm around the back of your chair.

“You alright?” You asked him.

“Prongs appeared this morning demanding I stop kissing you girls. Remus agreed of course.” Sirius whispered to you which caused you to grin.

“Oh yeah?! What did you say to that?!”

“I said I’d stop kissing the girls in front of them, I never said anything about behind their backs.”

You snorted quietly at his reply as Dumbledore walked in, greeting everyone present. Most of the Order were there apart from the select few who were still on missions.

The room quietened drastically as everyone waited for Dumbledore to speak.

“Welcome back, I thought it would be about the right time to check in with everyone.” Dumbledore began before turning his attention to the twins and Peter. “Mr Prewetts’ and Mr Pettigrew, how was the search up at Little Hangleton?”

“There was not much magical energy around the town, Professor, but there was definitely some.” Fabian began before Gideon took over.

“The house which you told us to look for was still being kept though. Someone pays for a caretaker of the property.”

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment as he assessed the information.

“Had anyone seen anything odd? Anyone seen lurking around recently which could be connected to Riddle?”

“No, any that did may have been obliviated though.” Peter answered as the Prewett twins nodded in agreement.

Gideon Prewett caught your eye for a moment before both of you looked away from each other. The two of you had dated throughout school for a while despite your differing years. Gideon had been a year ahead of you at Hogwarts, but both being in Gryffindor gave opportunity to run into each other more than once.

As your eyes directed away from Gideon, they landed on a newcomer to the Order. You couldn’t deny the man was attractive, his dark hair and dark skin looking almost flawless.

A nudge came from beside you as Marlene grinned at you.

“His name’s Gerard Warbeck.” She whispered to you. “He’s supposedly related to the singer, Celestina Warbeck, you know?”

“Really? How old is he?”

“A few years older than us, I think he was in Ravenclaw.”

You didn’t say anything else but quickly averted your eyes as his attention flicked to you. Not wanting to look back at him if he was still staring at you, you kept your eyes firmly on Dumbledore who had began talking again.

Sirius watched as the man across from where you sat, trailed his eyes over you with a slight smile after he caught you staring at him. As his eyes moved to Sirius, he was met with a strong stare as Sirius glared him down.

He didn’t know what it was about the man, but Sirius didn’t like him. Something felt off and Sirius swore to himself it had absolutely nothing to do with the way he was admiring you just moments previously.

Between the two of you, you managed to make it though another month without any more slip ups. Guaranteed there were some close calls but your secret remained as such; a secret.

With Dumbledore sending more and more of you out on Order missions, it gave both Sirius and you the chance to have your flats to yourself if Marlene or Remus were called out.

The current order mission which you were now sat through was coming to an end as you sat with Marlene, Sirius and Lily.

“Hey,” the blonde whispered from beside you, “I’ve got a surprise for you after this, you’re going to be so proud of me.”

“I’m almost scared to ask what it is.”

“I got us a double date with your admirer and his friend.” Marlene grinned. “They wanna take us out Saturday night. What do you say?!”

“Um...” Your eyes flicked to the side casually where Sirius sat next to you, whispering to Lily on his other side. “I don’t think so.”

“What?” Marlene whispered back, a thoroughly confused expression on her face. “Why not? He’s been eye-flirting with you for weeks! Give me one good reason why you don’t want to go.”

You were suddenly very aware of Sirius’ arm around the back of your chair.

Presented with the situation months ago before Lily and James’ wedding, you would’ve jumped at the opportunity, yet you couldn’t help but feel happy with what you had with Sirius at the moment.

“I don’t know, I just don’t feel like it.”

“Well stop it, you’re coming with me to talk to him after the meetings finished, which looks like it’ll be soon. Moody always begins his ‘constant vigilance’ speech just before we wrap up.”

True to her word, the meeting ended soon after and before you knew what was happening, your roommate had grabbed your arm and yanked you across the room to face Gerard.

Throwing a panicked look behind you to Sirius and Lily, the former couldn’t help but feel uneasy as you approached your admirer.

“Hey, Gerard,” Marlene greeted him, “I thought I’d actually introduce you to your date for this Saturday?!”

“I was beginning to wonder if we would every actually talk,” he grinned at you. “I’m Gerard, but I’m now realising Marlene would’ve already told you that.”

“She maybe mentioned it.” You chuckled slightly. “I’m Y/N, though I think she’s already introduced me before I even met you.”

“That she did.”

Across the room, Sirius was scowling at the man who was currently talking to you. He didn’t like the way he was looking at you.

“Hey, who’s Y/N and Mar talking to?” He asked Lily.

“Oh, that’s Gerard Warbeck, apparently he’s taking out Y/N and Mar on a double date this weekend.”

“So, they’re going on a date with the guy?”

“Not both of them,” Lily laughed whist grabbing her jacket from the back of her seat, “Mar set up Y/N with him whilst he set Mar up with his mate.”

Lily and Sirius dropped the subject as Marlene and you arrived back to join them, Marlene looking a lot more excited than you did.

“Ready to go?” The blonde asked the small group, before Lily and her moved towards the door. Yet, Sirius and you didn’t budge.

“Hey, is Remus back from his mission with James yet?” You asked.

“Not yet, they’re due back tomorrow.”

“Think we could head over to yours for a bit? I think there’s something you should know.”

Sirius couldn’t help but scoff and roll his eyes at you slightly.

“Oh, is this about you, dating Warbeck?” Sirius asked grabbing his own jacket from the chair. “Because Lily already mentioned that and I’m absolutely fine with you going out with him. I mean, you and I, we’re just messing around, we’re nothing so.”

Sirius began to head towards the door before stopping when he realised you weren’t following him.

“I mean, I was going to tell you I was going to get out of it and reject him when Mar wasn’t around, but hey, if we’re just messing around, maybe I will go out with him.”

“Maybe you should.” Sirius shrugged as you pinned him with a look before your gaze shifted to the very man you were talking about.

“Hey, thought I could walk you out?” Gerard asked as he shot you a smile. Turning to Sirius, he held out a hand. “Hey, I’m Gerard.”

“Sirius.” Sirius hesitated for a split second before he moved to shake Gerard’s hand. He made sure to grip his hand tightly through the handshake, enough for Gerard to wince slightly before laughing it off.

“Strong grip you’ve got. Yeah I remember you from Hogwarts, you turned the teacher’s table into jelly that one time.”

“Yeah, that was one of our better ones.” Sirius nodded with a forced grin before turning to you. “I’ll catch you later.”

Without so much as another word, he turned and walked out the room leaving the two of you behind.

After Gerard had walked you out, he wished you goodbye before apparating away. Noticing all of your friends had already gone, you quickly did the same by apparating to the front door to your flat.

What you hadn’t expected however, was for Sirius to be leant against the wall outside.

“What are you doing here?”

“Are you really going to go out with him?”

You took a moment to study him before reaching into your jacket pocket to find your key.

“Well you and I are just messing around so I thought, why not mess around with him?”

Despite having your key out, you didn’t make a move to unlock your door or let yourself in. Partly because you were sure Marlene was already back and partly because you were interested in what Sirius had to say.

Running a hand through his hair, Sirius opened his mouth a few times to say something before stopping himself. Finally he had decided on something and stepped forward from the wall towards you.

“I mean, I don’t know if you’ve looked up the term ‘messing around’ in the dictionary lately but the definition is two friends, who care a lot about each other.” He shrugged one shoulder, taking another step closer to you as he rested his hands on your waist. “Who have amazing sex, and just want to spend more time together yanno?”

“Oh, really now?”

“Yep. But if you’ve got this new definition where it’s not that, I think that we should just stick with a definition we both know.” You couldn’t help the snort of laughter as Sirius wrapped his arms further around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “...Are we okay?”

“I guess so.” You smiled at him as one of his hands moved from your waist to cup your face.

“I just, I like what we’ve got going.” Sirius shrugged, “I wouldn’t want to lose that with you.”

“I like what we’ve got too.” You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. “So... your place?”

Sirius never apparated the two of you away quicker.

You were laid out on your bed wearing the skimpiest underwear you owned as you waited for Sirius to floo in.

Marlene was due to be out visiting her family again which gave you both the perfect opportunity to use the flat whilst she wasn’t there. However, as your bedroom door opened with a slight knock, the person who walked in wasn’t Sirius by any means, but your blonde roommate.

With a shriek, Marlene covered her eyes as she quickly exited your room out into the living room.

“Y/N!” You quickly grabbed your dressing robe and wrapped it round you, following after her with a sheepish expression on your face. “What the hell!”

“I’m sorry! I was... taking a nap!”

“Since when do you take naps in that position!” Marlene stared at you for a moment before something clicked and she suddenly gasped. “Oh Merlin, please tell me you were waiting for a guy!”

“Yes. Yes!” You replied quickly, trying to think up something to tell the girl. “I’m seeing a guy!”

“Wait, I thought you turned down Gerard? Is it someone different?!” Marlene questioned.

“Yep, someone different! Completely different. Someone I met out.”

“Ohhh is he the cute one that works at the Ministry that we constantly bump into?!”

“Yep! Thats him!”

The blonde’s face suddenly lit up as she grinned at you widely.

“Oh Merlin, right, let me get out of your hair then! I’ll just grab my jacket real quick so you can get down to business!” Quickly heading to her room, she grabbed the closest jacket and started to head towards the fireplace. “But, when I get back, I want every detail and I mean every detail. Merlin knows my love life is as dry as Peter’s hair.”

The fireplace flushed with green light and as Marlene turned to send you a promiscuous look, which dropped as soon as she turned round to see Remus and James entering.

“Oh, it’s you, what are you guys doing here?”

“Lily sent us to pick up something from you girls. She said she left it in a box and you’d know what it was.” Remus shrugged as James made his way into your kitchen to grab something from your fridge.

Exchanging a look with Marlene, you both pulled a blank as you tried to remember if Lily had left anything round your flat.

“Do you have any idea as to what it was?” You asked.

“Something big and heavy which is why she sent us.” James grinned, biting into a large slice of cake.

“Are you sure?” Marlene snickered at the looks the two boys sent her.

The fireplace roared again and Sirius stepped out, a bottle of Firewhiskey in one hand and a bottle of whipped cream in the other. He grinned to himself before the expression fell from his face at the sight of the gathering in your living room.

You shot him a sheepish look as you covered yourself more with your robe, now feeling very aware you had not much on underneath it.

“Merlin, what are you doing here?” Marlene asked him, eyeing up the two bottles in his hands. “Running errands for Lily too?”

“Uh... no, I came to see if any of you wanted to drink?” Sirius said holding up the bottle of alcohol.

“And the cream?” Remus asked with a frown.

“Snack.” Sirius shrugged, squirting some of the whipped cream in his mouth.

“So Sirius, have you heard about Y/N’s secret boyfriend?” Lily asked him later that week.

After the incident where Marlene had walked in on you, it was a lot easier to explain certain things such as the hickeys on your neck after you alluded to seeing someone.

Marlene and you had also found out as to why Lily sent the boys to your flat to pick up something which wasn’t there. Apparently the two of them had been attempting to fix certain things around the cottage where Lily and James lived, which had started to drive the redhead mad. She then proceeded to send them on a wild goose chase just to get them out of her house for a while.

Currently, you were sat at Lily and James’ after they had invited the group round for dinner. Remus, James and Marlene were off discussing what ideas would be good for the spare room in their house. The blonde witch was playing the mediator between good and bad ideas much to Lily’s relief. This left you with Lily and Sirius downstairs, now having a conversation you weren’t sure the direction of.

“Uh, yeah, she might’ve mentioned him.” Sirius shrugged leaning back on the sofa, glancing towards you next to him as he took a sip of his alcohol.

“So, when are we going to meet the guy?” She turned the question to you as she got settled in the armchair. “You still haven’t even told me his name!”

“Well he’s really shy. I don’t think he’s up to meeting everyone yet.” You shrugged.

“I mean you don’t want to push him, right?” Sirius butted in with a nod which you mimicked.

“Exactly, you guys are a bit much sometimes.” You chuckled.

“Well I’ll be nice! I want to the meet this guy who’s the ‘best sex she’s ever had’!”

You swore under your breath as Sirius turned towards you with an enormous smirk on his face.

“Really?! The best sex she’d ever had?! That’s what you heard?!” He asked Lily before turning back to you. “You said that?!”

You narrowed your eyes at him, now skeptical at answering his question.

“I might’ve said that.” Sirius did nothing but laugh which you just rolled your eyes at before punching him lightly in the arm. “Why is that funny?”

“Because I’m very happy for him!” Sirius grinned before wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “And you! You lucky dog!”

“You’re the dog.” You scowled.

Sirius’ laughter was loud enough to attract the other three down from upstairs, much to your annoyance. Marlene grinned as she took the other seat on the sofa you and Sirius shared.

“What’s got you laughing so hard?”

That only made Sirius laugh more.

“Can we please change the subject.” You rolled your eyes.

“Alright, alright, kitten, I’ve actually got an Order question for you.” Sirius said as you leaned back into him.

“Go on.”

“If you have to sit through a meeting, does that mean your new secret boyfriend is better in bed than Gideon?”

“Sirius!” Marlene reached over to smack his arm before she turned her attention to you. “...Is he?”

“I think I’m going to respect the privacy of my new secret boyfriend.” You said just as James and Remus sat down on the other sofa.

Gideon was still slightly a sore subject for you. The breakup between you both was messy and despite the fact it happened months ago, you didn’t really want to talk to him or about him. The fact he also worked within the Order was difficult enough.

“Why?!” Sirius questioned with a smirk. “I mean if this guy was me, and it was me who had learned that it was me that was the best you’ve ever had, I’d be going like this.”

Slipping out from his place on the sofa, Sirius jumped onto Lily’s coffee table and proceeded to pull a few dance moves, much to the amusement of Marlene and James. Lily, however had immediately tried to get him off her table, while Remus wasn’t looking too happy about discussing his sister’s sex life. You just rolled your eyes, mildly annoyed at how much he was milking the fact.

After Lily managed to get Sirius down from her coffee table, he settled back into his spot next to you with a grin. You however, didn’t return it.

Later in the evening, you’d volunteered to grab some more wine from the kitchen when Sirius followed you.

“Hey, Remus is due out all day tomorrow so I have the flat all to myself.”

“So?”

“I just thought you’d like to book in some time with the best you’ve ever had.” Sirius grinned at you, taking the couple bottles of wine from you when you shoved them at his chest.

“You know what?” You turned to face him, “I’ll pass.”

“Why?” You at first did nothing but raise your eyebrows, before stepping back and badly mocked some of the dance moves he’d pulled in front of the group not too long ago. Sirius’ grin fell from his face as he took in your expression, realising he may’ve gone too far. “What’s your point?”

“Work it out, Sirius.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing the two bottles of wine from his grasp and walked back out to your group of friends.

You stayed mad at Sirius right through the next day. It was only when Marlene asked if you were annoyed with Sirius, you relented slightly on giving him the cold shoulder.

Not too long after, Dumbledore sent you a patronus to meet at Order headquarters. You didn’t expect to first, see Sirius arrive only moments later, or for the headmaster to give you a mission for only the two of you.

Apparently more magical activity was happening around Little Hangleton and Dumbledore wanted you both to go and scout it out. Quickly side-apparating, you both appeared in the little town and started to head towards the large house on the hill. It wasn’t until you were nearly at the front door before either one of you said anything.

“Okay okay, wait.” Sirius stopped you, reaching out for your arm and grabbing your attention. “Look, maybe I got carried away before, but there’s something you need to know. If I’m the best, it’s only because you made me the best.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not giving anyway any facial expressions as your stared at him.

“Keep talking.”

“When I’m with you, it’s something else entirely. Anyone else that I’ve been with before you is nothing in comparison, because when we’re together, it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.”

The look you’d pinned him with began to soften which Sirius took as a good sign. Stepping closer, his hands cupped your face.

“Anytime I spend with you, when we’re together intimately or not, means so much to me that I can’t even put into words.”

Slowly you felt your resolve drop and forced out a roll of your eyes, purely just because you didn’t want him to get the impression you gave in too easily.

“...You’re such a sap.”

The two of you shared a grin as your hands raised to lay on his chest, grabbing his familiar leather jacket and tugged him closer.

Whilst the two of you had spent the last few moments making up, you both missed the movement behind you. It was only when Sirius’ eyes grew wide suddenly as he caught sight of the familiar face behind you, he moved to grab his wand, yet he wasn’t quick enough.

A flash of purple collided with your back as the chilling laughter of his cousin cackled through the air. Bellatrix grinned maliciously as her spell hit you, right before Sirius wrapped you in his arms and apparated the both of you away. He didn’t plan on sticking around much longer if Bellatrix was accompanied by anyone else. With you injured, he didn’t stand a good chance at taking them on alone.

Landing roughly in a heap with you still in his arms, he didn’t even register that he’d apparated straight back into your flat where Marlene and Lily were now standing, wands raised until they realised it was you.

Grasping his wand, Sirius quickly hovered it above your body.

“Rennervate.”

You didn’t wake.

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obeymebabes · 3 years

Note

Hi if you are still taking requests, could I please have a head Canon of Levi Lucifer and Mammon with an MC that reads lips but the demons think they want a kiss??

Thank you so much💓💓

I really hope I interpreted this the way it was meant to be intended.

Lucifer

It was clear to him that you were staring directly at his mouth.

He was tired, and didn’t quite take the hint that you were simply trying to understand what he was saying.

A small smirk formed on his face. The more he talked, the more you focused on him.

He would hate to admit that he was rather enjoying the attention you were giving his lips.

Without warning, he closed his eyes, and leaned in.

Confused, you pushed him back, not letting him get what he thought you had wanted.

To say his pride was hurt was an understatement. He hadn’t been so flat out rejected before.

You had motioned to him that you were simply just trying to read his lips.

“Oh, I am deeply sorry. The way you were staring at my mouth I had assumed you wanted something more.”

He won’t stop thinking about it the rest of the night. He’s so embarrassed.

Mammon

As much as Mammon talks, you had your full attention on his mouth, trying to make sure you didn’t miss anything he was saying.

He hadn’t noticed until your gaze never shifted from his lips.

Out of the corner of your eyes you could see his face was heating up, but you couldn’t tell why.

Pausing, his eyes finally met your lips, blush rapidly growing on his face.

Without missing a beat, he leaned in and kissed you.

You were stunned, almost as stunned as he was when he realized you weren’t engaging in his gesture.

When he finally got the nerve to look back at you, you’d pointed out that you were simply reading his lips.

Cue the awkward tsun Mammon that everyone knows and loves. Also high-key embarrassed because he really can’t believe he just did that.

“Sorry” is all he can actually muster up because he’s too busy trying to replay the scene in his head, trying to understand how he could’ve ever assumed that was the thing you wanted.

Levi

He was too enveloped about talking to you about the new anime that he had just watched to notice what you were doing.

But he just kept talking too fast. It was hard to keep track of what he was saying.

You gently tapped him and pointed to your own lips, which made him instantly flush red.

“Wh-What!? MC! Really?”

You were so confused about his response.

Then it hit you when he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, pecking you with a quick kiss.

He noticed your wide eyes and blushed harder, getting the hint that the kiss was not what you meant.

You had motioned for him to slow his words down a bit so you could understand him.

“O-OH! I’M SORRY!”

Cue the blushing mess of a weeb in front of you, hiding his face because he was so overly embarrassed.

The whole night he avoided looking at you, and barely even spoke so he didn’t have to think about the incident.

If nothing else, he learned to slow his words down so you could understand him.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me babes #obey me swd #om! swd #obey me! shall we date?#swd obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me hc #obey me! hc #obey me! headcanons #obey me headcanons

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 5

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: angst, mention of violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You smoothed out your skirt for what felt like the millionth time as you stood in front of your bedroom mirror, nervously staring at yourself. You felt fine in your knee-length dress and flats but did you...feel fine? That was still very much up for debate.

If anything, you were feeling overwhelmed. Few days after confronting Steve, he told you that he and some of the other team members would be getting together for a little dinner. He said Bucky had planned to join them and thought this would make for a good chance to introduce you two to one another.

At first, you eagerly agreed and Steve looked relieved as he shared with you the restaurant and time. But then as the days went by and you were now just minutes away from coming face-to-face with your soulmate, you were downright terrified.

Steve said Bucky knew a bit about you, including an idea of what you looked like, but what if he just... didn’t want any part of this. Steve never explicitly said Bucky wanted to meet you, just that he could arrange it, so why would you assume a man who had been weaponized and brainwashed wanted to waste time on you?

You shook your head, trying to actually shake the thoughts. You had invested too much here to back out. Those thoughts of love and hope were suddenly abandoning you the more you stood there so you knew you had to kick your own ass into gear.

Smoothing out your dress and putting the final touches on your lipstick, you slung your purse over your body and pulled up the restaurant directions on your phone. There was no more time to even consider another bad thought as you began walking to the place.

This was bold of you, sure, but you had to remind yourself you wanted this. You wanted to finally sit across from the man who felt you knew - or at least a part of him you knew. He wasn’t like that anymore, Steve had told you, and you believed him. There was nothing you could pinpoint saying this man was attacking anyone with knives recently. That eased some concerns but still didn’t tell you that he would want this.

When you finally made it to the restaurant, you stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the sign. It was a nice place. Not overly fancy but still pretty hip and the reviews sounded nice online.

So, yeah, you were at the right place, you could confirm from your phone, but the device only got you so far. No one could direct you to actually walk in.

You averted your eyes to the door and that's when you saw motion coming from inside the restaurant. Your eyes flicked over, seeing Steve waving at you from inside the lobby. You gave a small smile, forcing any more concerns down your throat, and took the steps to enter.

Steve greeted you with a big hello as you were putting your phone away and tugging at the end of your dress.

“Hi, Steve,” you smiled as he gave you a brief hug, probably practically feeling how you were shaking but he didn’t say anything about it and instead motioned towards the dining area.

“The table is just right around the corner from here,” Steve said, a hint of hope sparked in his eyes and that made you feel warm, but the anxiousness wasn’t fading. You nodded in acknowledgment and waited for him to lead you but he just stood there, staring at the doorway.

He wanted you to enter first. The realization made your heart plummet but you didn't want to say anything and instead, you just simply put one foot in front of the other. Like baby steps, cautiously and careful, you gripped your bag tightly as you made your way through the arched frame into the dining area.

Turning the corner, you were abruptly greeted by one James Buchanan Barnes sitting at a table… for two. Two? This wasn’t some group dinner, you quickly realized. Steve had set you up.

Bucky was staring at the menu intensely, as if nervous to even think about the items. His hair slightly covered his face but you could still make out the unsureness radiating from him.

He hadn’t seemed to notice you yet despite your blatant staring. You were frozen in your path, that slight confidence flying out the window as the emotions and worries came back to you. You were so close to him. It was so much stronger than that news program on the coffee shop televisions.

In your irrational panic, you went to turn around, wanting to make a beeline for the entrance. But you didn’t get anywhere. Steve stopped you, putting his hands on your shoulders. He looked down at you, concerned.

“I-I don’t think… I don’t think I can-,”

“Steve, is something wrong?” Bucky’s voice suddenly cut through the space. His voice was just as rough and warm as you had thought it’d be, filling your heart with some form of desire. But you couldn’t turn around. Not yet.

Steve just gave you a nod before looking over your shoulder. “Nope, everything’s fine, Buck,” Steve called back to his friend. “There’s just someone I want you to meet.”

“Steve!” you went to protest but he just grabbed your arm, and turned you to face Bucky. What came over the room when your eyes met was indescribable.

He felt so familiar yet so far away as his eyes bore into yours, jaw slightly slack in surprise. You two took each other in. You thought you’d be scared, fearful of him, but it was the complete opposite. You felt warmth and comfort. You didn’t see an assassin sitting in that chair. You saw Bucky: a man who had been through the wringer and fighting to regain something in this world. You wanted to engulf him, do something to express yourself, but you were still stuck.

“Steve, what…” Bucky began, still wide-eyed, practically gaping at the sight of you. The shock was something you could definitely relate to at the moment.

Steve stepped around you, still off to the side but now between you and Bucky. “Bucky, this is-,”

“It’s her.”

You didn’t think your heart could drop anymore but his words proved you wrong. Your ears were pounding in anticipation, worry, uncertainty… You couldn’t believe you were still standing there like a starstruck idiot.

Steve just nodded, glancing between your two stunned expressions. A bit of a smile played at his lips as if proud. You just hoped his celebration wasn’t too premature. “It is her,” he confirmed, turning to Bucky. “I invited her for dinner.”

Bucky cocked his head, unsure. “I thought we were having dinner.”

“Sorry, Buck,” Steve chuckled. “I thought maybe you two could take some time to meet and maybe chat for a bit.”

You didn’t know what to do. You were pretty much planning for the inevitable rejection. Of course, Bucky wouldn’t want that. He had thought he was getting dinner with Steve and now you were standing there, looking like a sad puppy. You wanted to run-

“I-I’m sorry,” Bucky’s voice broke you out of your daze. He had said something briefly to Steve, which you missed in your mental panic, but now his attention was solely on you. You thought the next words were going to be him asking you to leave but then Bucky continued, “I’m being rude. Gosh, the last person I should be rude to… Please, sit down.” He motioned towards the seat across from him. His tone had turned panicked and uncertain when speaking to you. He was nervous.

You gave a quick glance at Steve who just nodded, still looking quite prideful. You turned back to Bucky and gave a little smile. He hesitantly returned it as you took the seat at the table.

You don’t think your posture had even been so immaculate as you sat there, stiff and unsure of the situation. He was here. He was really here.

And he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Bucky watched your movements intensely as if analyzing you. You shifted under his gaze, turning your eyes to the menu in front of your seat. You weren’t registering any of the words, too consumed by Bucky’s fixation.

“Thank you,” you said, gently, referring to the seat offer but Bucky didn’t seem to register it as he gave no acknowledgment.

“Well, then,” Steve began, clapping his hands together, once again like a proud father. “I’ll let you two converse. I’ll be in the area and don’t worry about dinner, it’s on me.” His smile was so wide and hopeful, glancing between you two sitting at the table. All you could do was muster a small nod. Bucky just gave him a questioning side glance. But Steve didn’t say anymore, just abruptly left. Your heart stirred as everything really settled in. This was happening. This was your night.

“So,” Bucky broke the silence but his eyes were thankfully off of you and trained on the restaurant menu once more. “Do you know what’s good here?”

You stifled a laugh at his charming attempt to make somewhat of a light conversation. You touched the menu gently, finally actually reading the words of the page.

You shrugged, “I’ve never been here before.”

“Me either,” he responded. “But that was probably expected.”

His joke was ridiculous, but it did something for you to loosen up just a little bit. You didn’t know if he was the kind to just hide his emotions in banter but it ultimately didn’t totally matter right now. It was working on you.

You looked down at the list of entrees. “Well, you can’t go wrong with chicken fingers. I don’t think any restaurant can mess that up.”

Bucky gave a breathy chuckle. “Chicken fingers?” His eyes were suddenly back on you. You dove into the menu again.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You know, the crispy strips of chicken, usually paired with-,”

“Fries,” Bucky finished your sentence. He gave a small smile. “Yeah, I know what chicken fingers are.”

“Oh, well,” you gulped, feeling your face getting warm under his attention. “I just wasn’t sure-,”

“If I had had them before?” He did it again, finishing your sentence. Was this going to always be a thing? Well, at least you were just glad he was talking. He really wasn’t like anything you had seen in the nightmares, minus the long hair. “Well, we didn’t have them back in the day but I have gotten a bit… acquainted with this world.”

Now it was your turn to return the small smile. You had finally gotten some courage to take some peeks at Bucky and still, you felt… comfortable. It felt right sitting like this, making light talk, hearing him talk about “back in the day” and all that so naturally. Were your visions correct? Was this actually the guy who did all those things that had tormented you? Or… It was exactly as Steve had said. That was all the past and this was the healing.

A waitress broke the silence between you two, asking what you would like to drink. You both opted for water, an uneasiness at the table of deciding what is actually appropriate to order on a date.

The silence returned as you two waited. Meals had been mentally decided on so now you were left to just let your eyes wander around the place. It was chic, as predicted. The seating area was nice with minimal decorations. There were little fake candles on the table.

“I’m sorry about Steve,” Bucky’s voice pulled you out of your gazing. Your eyes snapped back to him, confused.

“Why?” You frowned. “Is- Is something wrong?”

Bucky looked a bit panicked at that question. “No, no,” he shook his head. “He just sprung this on us and I’m sorry if you… if you don’t want to be here.”

You scoffed, a little smile playing at your lips. “I actually sort of asked him to help us meet.”

“Y-you did?”

Shrugging, you said, “Well, I didn’t think this was how he was going to do it,” you paused as the waitress set the glasses of ice water in front of you two. “But, yeah, I asked him to see what he could do.”

Bucky gave a little nod then looked away as if pondering your little revelation. Your heart sank as he went quiet again. Maybe you had said too much, came on too strong.

“How do you know Steve?”

Now that was a brow-raising question for you. You hadn’t thought about that when the confession slipped out. You were suddenly hit with the realization that Bucky wasn’t exactly aware of a certain super-soldier’s presence in the coffee shop. Steve had said he knew you worked in a shop and that really was all, it seemed. But you were going to play it a little dumb, unsure of how much Bucky needed to know about your correspondence with Steve.

“Steve’s a regular customer at the coffee shop I work at and we get to talking sometimes.”

Casual. You kept it nice and casual. But before you could give yourself a pat on the back, you noticed that Bucky’s expression still looked...confused.

“A regular?” He hummed. “He knew about you for a while then, didn’t he?”

Your heart dropped. Lies fumbled off your tongue. “I-I don’t know-,”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m making you uncomfortable. You certainly aren’t here to discuss Steve.”

You gave a weak smile, unsure of really how to respond. There was an interesting unspoken dialogue about how neither of you really knew what you were getting out of this. Thankfully, before you needed to come up with something to carry on the specific topic, the waitress stopped by to take your food orders. Bucky decided on a burger, completely avoiding your chicken finger suggestion (fair enough, you thought), while you just got a salad. Almost cliche, really.

The silence came back but you grabbed at it, taking it as a time to branch out into a new conversation.

“You know I didn’t even realize who you were until like a week ago?” You chuckled. “It feels like the silliest thing.”

Bucky shot you an interested smirk, suddenly making you aware of the attention on you as the distraction of the restaurant menu was absent. “How did you put it all together?” He asked. “Were the dreams not helpful?”

You could feel your heart rate pick up at the mention of the dreams. Your fingers started fiddling with one another. Your foot tapped lightly. The super-soldier across from you seemed to register your actions -- oh, of course, he did. The man had sense turned up to eleven. You tried collecting yourself quickly, avoiding raising any alarms.

You shook your head, maybe a bit furiously. “I saw a news report on you one day at work.”

Bucky sighed, sounding a bit annoyed. He chose to ignore your sudden tense state. “I’m sure they had a lot of great things to say.”

You frowned. “I don’t know, really. I didn’t pay much attention. I did my own research, actually.”

“Research? The dreams didn’t give you anything about me?”

There was that gosh darn word again. The dreams. It wasn’t dreams, it never fucking was. But you couldn’t tell him that. God knows how he would react. Thankfully, this time you could reign it in a little, not totally freaking out as the emotions and images came spitting back.

“Not really,” you said, softly. At least you weren’t totally lying. “They were kind of… blurry. A bit of a mess. But once I saw your picture on the television it all just clicked.”

He had the softest smile now playing at his lips. “That’s how it felt for me seeing you standing at the table earlier.” A beat. “But your beauty is what really knocked me over.”

Your heart practically melted into a giant pool within you. Warmth spread over as you took in his words, letting the soulmate attachment just encompass everything. You could feel his care for you suddenly. The moment was nearly a familiar overwhelming but for once, in the best way.

“I have to admit you’re not so bad yourself,” you smiled. “Look like you haven’t aged a day from the picture I saw of you in your uniform.”

Bucky chuckled -- a real, soft chuckle. You nearly missed it but it made you perk up a bit.

“Low blow, doll.”

“Too soon?” You didn’t know where this sassy, dry banter was coming from you but it felt right. Everything was starting to feel like this world was expecting this sort of conversation and you could be your whole self. Not the anxious, fumbling mess from earlier.

“I’ll allow it because you’re you.” His eyes were glimmering with tease, that little smirk still on his lovely lips. The humor came so naturally, you were surprised.

“Because I’m me?”

He nodded. “I can’t say the word. It doesn’t feel real. You don’t feel real.”

A light pause settled over the table. You took it in and a breath.

“Soulmate, Bucky.” The words rolled off your tongue softly. “I’m your soulmate and I’m very much real.”

***

The rest of the dinner had gone on with a breeze, amazingly. You two even opted for some dessert, extending the date just the tiniest bit. The conversation could be a little jagged at times as you danced around some questions about the “dreams” but really, Bucky was happy to just discuss you and your life.

Having overstayed your welcome at the restaurant, Bucky offered to walk you home which just filled your heart. The little acts of chivalry didn’t go unnoticed by you and they were all exactly what you wanted.

When you two arrived at your apartment building, you halted outside the entry door. You turned to Bucky but he spoke first.

“Thank you for staying for dinner tonight.”

You cocked your head, confused. “Well, of course.”

He shook his head. “No, I mean… I could tell you wanted to turn away and maybe you would’ve if Steve wasn’t there but you gave it a chance. You gave me a chance. Even if it was just one dinner, it was nice.”

You felt almost sad at his words. You didn’t mean to come off so hesitant but it was scary. You still couldn’t get over how the things you had seen were not adding up to the man you had just spent your evening with. You were glad the worries were eased slightly but the memories of the nightmares weren’t vanishing so quickly

Before you could think twice, you took Bucky’s hand in yours. He jumped a little at the action but didn’t pull away.

“I had the most wonderful time with you, Bucky.”

***

You made your way into your apartment after bidding Bucky a good night. Brief plans had been made to see each other again but nothing was concrete yet. You were actually anxious to get it down, though, hoping that seeing him would be a regular thing.

You let your thoughts lull you to sleep after you crawled into bed pretty, exhausted from the roller coast of a night. Shockingly, the nightmares were an afterthought as you closed your eyes.

The visions in your dream world started off intense. There were peaks of knives throwing and bombs going off in the distance. Panic had just begun filling you when out of nowhere, it all stopped. There was suddenly absolutely nothing. No feelings, no images. It was a blank slate.

And then Bucky came back into your mind -- except, it wasn’t that Bucky. It was the Bucky you had seen tonight. He was in what appeared to be his bedroom, looking fairly comfortable sitting on the bed, consumed by a book.

You took in parts of the scene. From his pajama pants to the way he had no problem cracking the spine of a book. Something new was coming over you now and, for the first time, it was the feeling of happiness.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Bucky Barnes Series Taglist:

@reichelhache @bella-bear03 @rvgrsbrns @thebadassbitchqueen @libraries-and-coffee @adoringanakin @heartbeats-wildly @japzalileo @aayaissaa @takemedancingmaine @bahama-mama-llama

p.s. sorry about the taglist right now - haven’t had time to update it but will get on it in a bit!

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #fanfic #fanfiction #the winter soldier #soulmate au #writing*#fluff #slow burn #angst

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okay-j-hannah · 3 years

Text

May The Best Man Win

The Marauders : Oneshot

James x Reader x Sirius

Word Count: 9358

Warnings: I’m not a big swearer, but I did add something in the end 😂 this turned way angsty, like A LOT, which is what I think the requester wanted

Request: “y/n can’t choose between James and Sirius. preferably tons and tons of angst” - Anon

A/N: A friendly competition turns sour as these best friends fight for your heart without any good intentions

“This is simple.”

“No it isn’t.”

“Yes, it is!”

Sirius sunk further into his chair, covering his eyes with one hand and another holding an ice cold butterbeer.

James stood from the couch, fingers to his temples, glasses askew, “Listen, I saw her first, therefore I get dibs.”

“You shouldn’t call dibs on a girl,” Remus muttered, his quill whizzing across his essay, “That’s not fair for her or for any other potential suitors.”

Peter peered up at his scarred friend from his place on the rug, “Are you saying you fancy her too, Mooney?”

“You can’t claim the girl just because you saw her first,” Sirius reiterated, continuing to block the firelight as it burned his gaze. “Besides, I was the first one to actually speak to her.”

“Is that true, Prongs?” Peter asked, eyes flipping between all those that were talking.

James messed with his hair again, “Well… that’s only because you caught my snitch as it drifted towards her.”

“So you could say that you led me to her.”

The two friends shared a look, one smirking and one grimacing. James paced in front of the fireplace, loosening his tie as Peter followed him with his gaze. Sirius appeared amused that he not only got the first introduction with this girl, but also in flustering his friend.

“Can I ask – are you two interested in this girl because you actually fancy her, or because you want to beat one another?” Remus asked, taking a heavy sigh and corking his ink bottle.

James appeared affronted while Sirius simply looked tired, “I don’t know, I was rather enjoying seeing Potter break his neck while I wooed the lady.”

“Of course I like her, Mooney, why else does a chap make a fool of himself.”

“Oh, come on, Prongs. You only slipped in the corridor twice,” Sirius mused, taking a sip of his drink. “Forgive me, I didn’t count the time you fell through the Fat Friar – that would make it three times.”

Remus rolled up his parchment and added in a delighted voice, “For a gifted quidditch player you can really trip over nothing, can’t you James.”

Sirius chuckled, sneaking a glance at his pacing friend, “Seeking love is a fools errand.”

“If you really believe that then why are you fighting against me asking (Y/N) out?”

“Are you telling us that you’ve found love at first sight?”

James grimaced, leaning against the mantle, “Not… not necessarily.”

“You just think she’s very pretty?” Remus questioned, now settling into the conversation with his homework done.

“No!”

“Beautiful, then?” Peter suggested. And with a swift look from his peer, he shut his mouth.

“Look, I’ll admit that (Y/N) is very attractive, and she caught my eye…”

Sirius cleared his throat, looking off into the distance, “And every other bloke in the Great Hall.” He practically snickered at the sneer coming from James.

“But you need someone to distract you from Lily Evans consistently rejecting your advances,” Remus delivered mercilessly, “You needed a beautiful rebound to make her jealous.”

Sirius finally sat straight in his chair, eyes uncovered, “That’s it, isn’t it?”

James was overly flustered again, hair seeming to frazzle with static, “Well, it sounds a lot worse when you say it like that.”

“You mean the truth?” Remus muttered, folding his arms to warm his cool hands, “If no one’s going to take into consideration the feelings of this girl, I might as well.”

“Alright, I have a bet,” Sirius stated loudly over Remus. He took a mighty swig of his butterbeer, “We both want a girl for the wrong reasons.”

James frowned, wiping a hand over his face, and Peter interjected, “Prongs wants her for the rebound – what’s your wrong reason, Padfoot?”

“Haven’t you been listening to the conversation?” Sirius continued, “I just wanted to spite him, taking the girl right from under him.” His elbows rested on his knees, hands clasped together, “How about we make it a proper competition. You’ll be able to take your mind off Evans and I’ll have something to do other than pantsing Filch and backtalking Minnie.”

The disapproval was immediate on Remus’ face, but he let them finish their statements, knowing precisely when to intervene. James furrowed his brow, a finger between his lips as he contemplated.

“It definitely would make Lily notice.”

“Possibly jealous.”

“And you could build cred that you’re the romantic type.”

“And the ladies will be lining up at my door to get a piece of the action.”

Peter again seemed bewildered at the talk, “I’m sorry, what – what is this proper competition?”

Remus sighed, willing his patience to continue, “These two are disregarding the feelings of a fellow classmate in the hopes that she’ll better their love lives outside of their fake relationship.” When the poor blonde boy seemed even more confused, he added, “Essentially these two want to try and win over (Y/N)’s affection, seeing which one gets it first, and then drop her flat with no consequences.”

“Ah, but the reward will be great,” Sirius stated, grinning, “Breaking one girls heart is worth the dozens that will be willingly given to me afterwards.”

James appeared a bit more skeptical, much to Remus’ satisfaction, “And Lily will realize what she’s been missing out on.”

“You two are impossible,” Remus finally uttered, “I will not condone this; I think you sometimes forget that I am a Gryffindor Prefect.”

“No, I could’ve sworn it was Ravenclaw.”

“Smartass.”

“Besides the point,” Remus waved his hands, light igniting his gaze, “I will not have you play with this girls emotions and then drop her brokenhearted and despising you for the rest of our time at Hogwarts, if not the rest of our lives.”

Sirius let there be a pause after the statement before continuing with a kind of vigor, “Well, now that we’ve gotten the grouchy warning out of the way. I’d say we put it to a vote.”

James nodded, “All in favor of this proper competition for the affections of the one (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He raised his hand along with Sirius.

After another tense pause and a threatening glare from Sirius, an intimidated Peter reluctantly rose his hand. Remus gave a heavy sigh, crossing his arms tighter against his chest, “This happens every time – you can’t will Peter to your side in every argument.”

“Well, at least for this one, we have,” Sirius laughed, rising from his chair and waltzing over to his friend for a bone crushing handshake, “May the best man win.”

James returned the aggressive grip, staring into the mischievous glint in Sirius’ eyes, “And upon agreement, we do not let her know of this competition, this is (Y/N) falling for us naturally using our own wit and charm.”

“Therefore, I will be gaining the advantage because I am overflowing with both.”

Peter chimed in with a nervous smile, “And we can’t persuade her to go for one of you over the other?”

“No, we’ll use you as spies,” James continued, massaging his crushed hand, “If she decides to talk to you about one of us, you are legally bound to tell us everything she said.”

“And if we tell you to pass along particular information, you will please do exactly that.” Sirius returned to his chair but opted for leaning against the back of it. “And the competition will only end when she is given the ultimatum and has chosen one of us.”

James nodded, pulling his tie even looser, “And we have by the end of the school year – if she hasn’t chosen by then we’ll give her the final question before exams.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Remus huffed, “Don’t lay a question like that on the girl before exams; at least wait until after when she has nothing else to worry about.”

“Well, I don’t think we’ll have to think about that,” Sirius gloated, “Because I’ll make her fall months before final exams.”

~~~

(Y/N) wandered the corridor, a very peculiar incident waying on her mind. She just had the most bewildering interaction with James Potter right outside the Great Hall. The boy was all in a tither, apparently at the end of a rather exhausted sprint down the main staircase.

“Good – Good afternoon, (Y/N),” he had huffed. “How are you?”

She smiled, puzzled, “I’m fine, thank you. You don’t seem to be, though.” She gave him a hesitant look and watched as he awkwardly tried to gather himself.

“Right, yes – it’s hard to run down stone stairs without falling – takes all my concentration; especially when my focus is elsewhere.” He gazed at her behind his squared glasses, hoping he wasn’t being too subtle.

(Y/N) bit the inside of her cheek, scrunching her face as she thought, “What’s on your mind?”

When he grinned at her reply, she couldn’t help but find him quite cute. His gleaming smile complimented his light eyes and dark hair well. Of course she had heard of Potter, him and all of his boisterous friends, but she’d never found herself caught up in a one-on-one conversation with him.

Just the other day she ran into his best mate, Sirius, in the Great Hall. And from that interaction it appeared he’d never laid eyes on her before. Perhaps he said something to James?

“I saw you crossing the corridor. I was trying to think of something clever to say.”

It was incredibly apparent that James was feigning a kind of bravado that his friend Sirius had once shown her. But all too noticeably she was able to pick out the hesitance and anxiety behind his words.

It made her smile even more as he peered down through his unbalanced glasses.

“And you came up with ‘good afternoon’?” she snickered, readjusting her heavy book bag. “You sure it took all of your concentration? Seems a bit obvious.”

This time he laughed along with her, finding his hands itching to fidget with his snitch. How was he supposed to focus on befriending (Y/N) when he had Sirius’ obnoxious face in the back of his mind? He could practically hear his friend mocking his conversational direction.

“Yeah, you got me,” he sighed, “I saw you and my mind went blank.”

She paused momentarily, letting that sentence tense the room. He appeared to sense the shift, messing with his hair even more, which she noticed with a skip in her heartbeat. What could she say? It was cute.

“Well – I’ve got to get studying.” She gestured her path set for the oak front doors, “I promised myself I would ace McGonagall’s exam.”

James saw his opportunity immediately and chose to seize it, “I’ve been meaning to study too! Do you want a study partner? I’m completely hopeless, but I have no doubt you could put me to good use.”

She couldn’t deny the plea in his gaze. Did he really want to? Why would he, all of the sudden? They were never great friends before. But when his tousled hair fell over the rim of his glasses, the skip in her chest wouldn’t allow her to refuse.

“Sure, if you don’t mind going outside. I like walking along the forbidden forest and sitting in the pumpkin patch.”

Her acceptance was enough to make James bounce on the balls of his feet, “Perfect.” He leaned towards the front doors and she took the hint to lead the way. In another stroke of genius he reached out a hand, “Let me carry your bag; you look about ready to collapse under the weight.”

“Are you calling me weak, Potter?”

He smirked at the use of his last name, “Absolutely not. It’s just, I told you I was hopeless with the studying. Maybe my uses will fall under ‘pack mule.’”

It made her laugh enough that she willingly shrug the bag off her shoulder and into his hands.

He liked the sound of her laugh. It was the kind of laugh that infected everything within its vicinity. It even made him want to join her, but he chose to offer a pleasant smile.

In that unsavory part in the back of his head, James could see Sirius unwillingly placing a point under ‘Potter.’ It looked like he was getting the head start.

Back in the Gryffindor dormitories, Sirius was brooding against his window, staring down at the grounds. He was witnessing the playful interactions between James and (Y/N) in the pumpkin patch.

They each sat on their own massive pumpkins, which were grown to colossal size for the Halloween festivities. They appeared to be laughing, James distracting her from whatever she was reading.

James quickly snatched the book from her hands, and she jokingly nudged his arm in protest. He held the book high and laughed at her pout.

It made Sirius clench his fists against the stone wall. If only he had gotten to her first. He would have to put some extra effort into getting on her good side after today. Just the way she sneaked glances at James when he wasn’t looking already put Sirius on edge.

There was no way James was more charming then him. Sure they were a pair, but James was the one good at sports, family dinners, and sneaking around the castle with his invisibility cloak. Sirius was the one good with wit, flirting, and sneaking them in and out of trouble.

He couldn’t help but think of how much more capable James was with relationships too. He was always a bit more open and willing to share then Sirius ever was.

“If you ground into that wall any harder, I fear the stone will start to turn to dust.” Remus laughed aloud, in the middle of a game of Exploding Snap with Peter.

Sirius had to will his hand out of its clenched fist. “Just look how far he’s gotten. She all over him!”

“Shoving him away is hardly the definition of ‘all over him.’” Remus corrected, placing another card on his tower, “They’re simply being friendly.”

“Your heart isn’t in the game, Mooney. I can’t trust your judgement.”

Sirius watched as the sun began to dip and James offered another stroll towards the Black Lake. How dare he! That was Sirius’ move.

“You spoke to her first, didn’t you?” His tone was flat, but Remus always had the need to cheer his friends. “I doubt she’s forgotten you so quickly.”

“You’re not seeing the way she looks at him.”

“It’s only been a few days, Padfoot,” Peter muttered, always afraid to be snapped at for his opinion. “(Y/N)’s sensible – she’ll weigh her options carefully. You’ve got plenty of time to show her what you have to offer.”

Surprisingly, Sirius didn’t feel the need to belittle Peter, “I’m just going to have to think of a more memorable event. Sure James could bump into her and do some homework outside. But that’s not so significant, students do homework every day.”

“What do you consider an insignificant event?” Peter paused his turn at the Exploding Snap tower, sensing the uneasiness in Remus’ brow.

“Please don’t tell me your intentions include the hospital wing?” Remus asked.

Sirius tried to watch the couple out the window with the darkness descending on them. “It won’t be needed if I can catch her in time.”

Remus widened his tired eyes, Peter attempting to match the mood. “What are you thinking, Sirius? Don’t be doing anything stupid. Getting expelled isn’t worth this bet.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous. It’s nothing to be worried about – not by you two.” He retreated to his bed, stretching out with a new air of confidence, “Damsels in distress can’t resist a prince charming.”

“I have to insist, Sirius.”

He rolled his eyes, “If I tell you, there’s a chance James will find out. I don’t need any interference.”

“So help me,” Remus glowered, “If I find out this girl is incapacitated because of your tomfoolery…”

“Relax, Mooney – all’s fair in love and war.”

~~~

The rain was falling into a lazy drizzle, calming the cold that had plagued them that morning. (Y/N) followed the stone steps outside and up towards the owlery, protecting her letters from the last remnants of rainfall.

She dwelled on her conversation with her good friend Mary MacDonald last night. It was a much needed vent about the last few weeks, and Mary was more than willing to listen. She was always a sweet friend.

“James Potter? Are you serious?”

“Yes!” (Y/N) had said, “And we walked along the forest and the lake well into the night. We just talked and talked, and it was actually… really nice.”

“I always thought Potter was a bit of a pompous prat.”

(Y/N) laughed, “Sometimes that does shine through, but I’m getting good at knocking him off his high horse when it does.”

Mary ran a hand through her hair, thinking, “Have you done anything since then?”

“To tell you the truth it’s like he can’t leave me alone. He keeps cropping up in all sorts of places – it’s like I can’t refuse him as a friend now. It’s usually when I’m studying in the Great Hall or the library; he shows up with treats or ideas about walking the quidditch pitch.”

There was a strange glint now entering Mary’s eyes. She let (Y/N) ramble on some more, waiting for some dire information.

“I’ll admit it’s been fun, it’s definitely confusing, but also fun. I’m starting to get used to having him around – he’s always cracking jokes. He knows how to make me laugh. And...”

“Oh, and his hair, right? How he’s always ruffling it around,” Mary put an edge of mockery in her tone, but she was thrilled with the wide eyed reaction from (Y/N). “And his glasses…”

(Y/N) stared at her friend for a moment too long before a blush betrayed her, “… they’re always crooked.”

Mary nodded to herself, a fist under her chin and a smug look on her face. “You like him, don’t you?”

She gave it a lot of thought, “I don’t know. He’s cute and I enjoy being around him. But it’s too soon to tell.”

“It seems pretty obvious to me,” Mary concluded, pointing at her friend accusingly, “You have feelings for James Potter.”

(Y/N) began to retort, “We’ve only been hanging out for a week!”

“And he’s obviously been doing something right because you are still thinking about that week.”

Now as (Y/N) climbed the staircase towards the owlery, she sighed. Maybe she did feel something for James. She couldn’t deny the skipping of her heart every time he brushed her shoulder with his.

After tying her letters to nearby barn and screech owls, (Y/N) went for her favorite spot just outside the tower. She sat on the railing and let her legs swing in the open air, taking a deep breath of the crisp wind.

The stone was still damp from the ceasing rain and it made her fingertips cold touching it. She had hoped the fresh air would clear her head of her recent puzzling thoughts and feelings. But the longer she sat there, the more she found her mind fogging up.

What was she doing sitting on the railing? How did she get up there?

Shaking her head a bit, (Y/N) tried to turn herself around but found another wave of confusion hit her.

Where was she, again?

And reflexively scooching to one side to peer at her surroundings, (Y/N) found herself unbalanced and sliding off whatever she was sitting upon. Was this a railing?

She began to slip off the damp stone, a sudden shriek on her lips. Her feet found no traction as they descended further, and her hands grappled for any kind of purchase. In just a few seconds she was dangling from the edge of the staircase, fingers cold and numb against the rough bricks.

She couldn’t find her voice as she struggled to wedge a foot along the side. Heavy breaths came from her lungs as whimpers escaped her.

But in another few seconds, she heard another’s voice.

“Woah! What are you doing?”

Frantically turning her gaze upward, (Y/N) saw a familiar face. Sirius Black?

“H-Help.”

He copied her panicked face, fumbling with stowing his wand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” His hands found hers and he began to hoist her up.

(Y/N) scrambled over the edge, feeling the numbness that started in her fingers trail through the rest of her body. She could hardly comprehend the way she fell into Sirius’ arms, clutching at his cloak out of sheer panic.

“Hey, I’ve got you. You’re safe now, (Y/N).”

He felt the shivers racking her body as he held her to him. An unexpected pang of guilt shot through him. She had fistfuls of his cloak, fear plain in her eyes as she stared at a fixed point ahead.

“Are you all right?” When she didn’t respond, Sirius tried cupping her face, turning her gaze to him. “Are you all right, (Y/N)?”

She looked at him hard, blinking furiously as warmth began to seep back into her bones. “I – um… I think so.”

“You’re not hurt at all?”

She stared at the way his face changed when he asked it. A crease formed between his eyebrows and his eyes were set upon hers. She started to feel his hands on her cheeks and a sudden rush of heat flooded them.

“No, no – I think I’m good.”

That warmth began to unfreeze her limbs, her mind no longer so foggy. She took a deliberate step away from Sirius, embarrassed by the momentary close contact.

He held his hands up, noticing the swift retreat, “Hey, I’m just checking. You look a little shaken.”

She looked around her, “I don’t understand,” she muttered.

“What were you doing sitting on the edge of the stairs? You do realize it was raining this morning.”

She looked harder but couldn’t find any reason. She must’ve just slipped, though she’d sat on that railing for years and never fallen. “I come up here to think. I’ve never fallen before.”

He nodded but kept a concerned look on his face, “You seem a little dazed. Maybe you should visit the hospital wing – Madam Pomfrey might have something to calm you down.”

“I told you I was all right.”

“I know, but it would make me feel better if you got checked out anyways.”

Was her mind still foggy or was Sirius Black showing genuine concern? She snapped her gaze back to his and realized that the arrogant flirt from that day in the Great Hall was completely gone. It was almost bewildering to see his face without the smugness or the classic smirk.

Her stomach churned, whether from leftover fear or freshly made nerves, she didn’t know. But she was compelled to return the compassion.

“Thank you,” she said, “For pulling me up.”

A smile returned to his features, “It’s no problem. Damsels are my specialty.”

So the arrogant flirt was still in there.

“It was lucky you came over here. I would’ve been a goner.”

She waited for him to say something obnoxious like ‘yeah, you are lucky, princess,’ or ‘just call me savior from now on.’ But he caught himself with his mouth agape, it was a calculated hesitance.

“I’m glad,” he said, more sincerity in his tone. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Her stomach did another involuntary flip. Did Sirius always have such a nice smile? She never realized how kind it was, or how warm his eyes were.

“Can we stop by the hospital wing real quick?”

“We?” she murmured, still dazed by the sudden rush of epiphanies.

He chuckled, “I’d like to follow through, if you don’t mind. What if you slipped on your way down to the castle?”

(Y/N) recognized the chuckle as something to accompany a witty remark, but this time it was partnered with a warm gaze and a slanted brow.

“Sure,” she said, hesitantly. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’re acting strange.”

He laughed again, leading the way back down the stairs, respectfully keeping his distance from her now. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” (Y/N) hid her hands in her pockets, hoping the redness had dulled in her cheeks, “You haven’t said anything irritatingly pretentious yet.”

He let out a low whistle, “The damsel bites back.” She didn’t say anything more so he shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe you shouldn’t be so quick to assume I’m like that all the time.”

Had she made assumptions? She had only spoken to him that one other time in the Great Hall.

~~~

There was a very clear thwack as the portrait swung closed. Mumblings could be heard from the Fat Lady and a string of first and second years scrambled to move their things elsewhere and avoid the coming carnage.

James came tromping towards the corner of comfy couches the marauders normally occupied, finding the trio he was seeking.

“You have some explaining to do,” he pointed at Sirius, “And it better be lengthy and detailed.”

The venom was perfectly seen in his words, and it only made the victory that much sweeter in Sirius’ eyes. “Yes, Prongs?”

“How unrelentingly pig-headed are you? How much of a conniving, thieving git are you?” James began to rise his voice much to the growing grin on Sirius’ face.

Remus began to contort his brow, “What’s happened, James?”

“What’s happened is that Sirius has no regard for (Y/N)’s safety. Apparently it was thrown out the window when he decided to toy with her to get back at me.”

“Who said anything about getting back at you? I’m just playing the game.” Sirius was much too relaxed on the sofa for James’ liking.

Peter piped up, “What’s happened to (Y/N)?” He had grown quite fond of the girl whenever they met in the library. She was always kind to him when he struggled with assignments.

“Sirius landed her in the hospital wing!” James hissed, “She just told me downstairs.”

Remus rounded on their friend, “You said you wouldn’t let it get that far!”

“You knew about it!”

“Is (Y/N) all right?”

Sirius yelled the loudest, “Alright, you pansies, calm yourselves. (Y/N) is fine.”

“Not before she was almost thrown off the side of the owlery.”

Remus felt his jaw drop, “You shoved her off the stairs?”

Sirius jumped to his feet, “Now, now, Mooney – let’s not fall to any conclusions. (Y/N) was sitting on the railing and I simply nudged her into the perfect position for a rescue.”

James was fighting the urge to sock his friend in the face. “By having her fear for her life, dangling on the side of a mountain?”

“I’ll admit, it wasn’t meant to go that far.”

“Then how far, exactly?” Remus urged, “Be careful, Sirius – I might not hold James back from hitting you.”

“I just sent a little confundus charm her way while she was sitting there so she would forget why she was there in the first place. Then I thought I’d surprise her, she’d jump a bit, I’d steady her so she wouldn’t fall… easy.”

James had to cross his arms very tightly to keep them from swinging, “And you took the charm too far?”

Sirius felt a familiar pang of guilt, the look of terror on (Y/N)’s face as she clutched at him resurfacing in his memory. “Perhaps. But she’s all right, isn’t she? I took her to the hospital wing just to make sure, and Madam Pomfrey said after a nights rest she’d be fine!”

The silence was tense and anxious. Remus looked ready to attack Sirius just as much as James wanted to, but maybe not as ferociously. Peter cowered in the corner, wishing to run from the fight.

Sirius was the only one with a casual look on his face, “You two are overreacting.”

“I can’t believe you would put (Y/N) into such unnecessary danger,” Remus remarked.

“You’re overlooking the benefits, though,” Sirius continued, “Clearly (Y/N) has been talking about me. Clearly she has me on her mind, exactly where I want to be.” He stared smugly at James, relishing in his fuming state.

James couldn’t comprehend the fury he was feeling. How dare Sirius take such measures. How dare he hurt someone he cared about.

Wait.

Someone he cared about?

“This isn’t a game anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

“This is (Y/N) we’re talking about,” James reiterated, “She isn’t a chess piece – she’s our friend. You clearly are taking it way too far. I thought charm and flirting would’ve sufficed, but you want to throw in some death defying stunts…”

Sirius held his hands up, his smugness melting away, “Easy – you don’t think I was worried about her too? I’m sensing a little more than anger here, Prongs.”

James swallowed hard, his face set, “That might be my restraint in killing you right now.”

“No, no – I think you’re hiding some other unresolved feelings.” Saying the words did uneasy things to his chest, much to his chagrin. “Perhaps you’ve been enjoying your time with (Y/N) more than you thought.” Just the idea made unwanted jealousy bubble in his stomach.

Why would he feel that?

James had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying something rash. From giving himself away.

“Just stay away from her – for a little while. I think you’ve traumatized her; she won’t go across a bridge without someone with her.” He began to retreat, coolness to his tone, wishing to be alone now.

“And let you get ahead? I don’t think so.”

James stopped in his tracks for only a second before thinking better of the situation and leaving the common room.

The remaining three sat in silence for a few minutes, Sirius finally feeling able to let his guard down and appear sulky. Peter flickered his beady eyes between his companions as Remus attempted to study Sirius’ face.

“Are you all right?”

Sirius barely sneered, “What?”

“We were so busy worrying about (Y/N), we didn’t ask how you were.” Remus tilted his head in thought, “You did almost send the girl to her death.”

The unwanted heat in his chest made Sirius stir uncomfortably, “It was a surprise.”

Remus knew better and waited for his friend to build up the courage to continue.

“When she fell over… for a split second – I didn’t know what to do.” He paused and waited to see if someone would stop him. He tried with difficulty to gather his thoughts, “I was terrified. I was angry at myself.”

There was another bout of silence and it appeared that Remus was satisfied with the outcome of his questioning. Sirius was relieved, it was overwhelmingly hard for him to describe his feelings.

“James isn’t going to forgive so easily.”

“I know that.”

“And (Y/N) doesn’t know her fall wasn’t accidental?”

“If she did I doubt she would’ve let me walk her back to her dormitory.” There was a distant look in Sirius as he thought of the memory. He was finally able to get her to smile again right before saying goodnight.

~~~

Mary was more skeptical than ever as they trudged through the snow covered grounds. It seemed impossible.

How could both James Potter and Sirius Black be fawning over her best friend?

“And then what did he do?”

“He pointed out the mistletoe and looked at me expectantly. And what was I supposed to do?” (Y/N) mused, almost embarrassed by how much she liked the moment.

“So you kissed him?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed – I thought you were team James from the beginning.”

Mary didn’t respond right away, “How was it?”

(Y/N) appeared to like that question, “Merlin, I’ve never had so many butterflies. He kissed me once, real quick. And it looked like he was going to say something, so I just went for another one!” She kicked a pile of snow, entirely too happy to remark on the few flakes that fell on her face. “And before I knew it, we were on the couch.”

“You didn’t…?”

“No, we just kissed.” (Y/N) said quickly, “But it was the best kiss I think I’ve ever had.”

The retellings of the Christmas weekend were definitely something to behold. Both Black and Potter decided to try and one up the others time with (Y/N). It appeared that Mary was the only one to have noticed. Merlin only knows what Sirius will do once he figured out James had kissed (Y/N).

“Well, what about Sirius? Did you two do anything over the weekend?”

“We spent Sunday with Remus and got in a snowball fight. Sirius shoved snow down my cloak like the git he is. But when we walked back to the castle he asked if I was all right.”

“He does that a lot, doesn’t he? Seems to wait for when no one is around.”

(Y/N) felt defiant, “Sirius doesn’t like people to know he’s a good guy. He has to keep up appearances, you know.”

Mary found the sudden urge to list the pros and cons of the boys laid out before them. “But James has never struggled with showing you how he feels.”

“But have you seen him around the quidditch pitch? I could climb to the moon on the ego he has while on a broomstick.”

“But he also is a gentleman – he carries your books, takes you out to Hogsmeade, brings you treats…”

(Y/N) blew hot air between her numb hands, “Yeah, but no one asks me how I’m doing more than Sirius. And he is determined to make sure I’m not lying; he hates it when I say, ‘I’m fine.’” She fiddled with her pockets as a frown soured her face, “And I’m pretty sure I caught James pining over Lily Evans the other day.”

That startled Mary a bit, “Did they use to go out?”

“No, but James fancied her a lot! Peter told me. She rejected him something fierce.”

“And you think he’s still stuck on her?”

“Maybe.” The grimace didn’t suit (Y/N). “And then there’s Sirius – the perpetual bachelor.”

Mary snuck a smile, “Yeah, but Sirius always has a string of girls wanting to go out with him. He lets his good looks get to his head.”

“Sometimes I think he doesn’t believe he’ll ever find someone,” (Y/N) mumbled, “I know his arrogant, witty side is a front. He almost gets nervous whenever I try to make a move.”

“Really?” Mary dramatized, “I thought Sirius Black never got nervous.”

“That’s cause you haven’t taken the time to get to know him.”

Mary nudged her further, “And what about James? Does he have some secret?”

(Y/N) pondered thoughtfully, “I think he’s scared no one likes him compared to Sirius. He has a good heart and comes from a wealthy family. But he wants to make a name for himself, so he puts everything he has into his friends and quidditch. He gets jealous quite a lot.”

“Interesting.”

“And that’s not even mentioning Sirius and his family. Man, I thought I didn’t get along with my parents, you should look at his.” She found herself taken slower and slower steps, her voice now lowering, “You know his entire family is in Slytherin? And he’s a Gryffindor… that should be enough to speak for his character. He despises what his family represents.”

“I didn’t know that.” Mary was now beginning to understand the predicament that (Y/N) had found herself in.

Both of these boys were setting up a dangerous game. One that was going to end only in heartbreak and guilt. And Mary didn’t like that her best friend was tangled in the middle of it.

“What are you going to do?”

(Y/N) paused, halting her steps. “You mean – who am I going to choose?”

“I don’t think you should let it go on much farther. I think both of them are falling for you and eventually one of them is going to be let down, and you’re going to feel terrible for doing it.”

They stood there ankle deep in snow as the gears turned in (Y/N)’s head. Mary could’ve sworn steam was beginning to come out of her ears.

“I don’t know if I can choose.”

Mary frowned, “Well, you need to explore your options. You obviously care for both of them, now you just need to figure out which one you love.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard at the thought: love.

“I haven’t kissed Sirius yet.”

“No, you haven’t,” Mary continued, helping the thinking aloud process. “But just because you can kiss them doesn’t mean you love them.” She was painfully aware of the numbness creeping into her stone cold feet, but (Y/N) didn’t appear to be.

And another set of footprints was coming their way, crunching in the snow.

“Oh, I think that’s James now. Act as if we haven’t been talking about him this whole time.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh as they were joined, “Hello, James.”

“Hi, (Y/N) – Mary. How are you?” His cheeks were rosy with the cold, his pale complexion making his ruffled hair stand out. He was staring only at (Y/N) as he asked the question.

She felt her heart throb, “I think my fingers are frostbit, but other than that, perfectly fine.” She laughed his favorite laugh.

“Well, no wonder; you’re not wearing any gloves.” And there was no hesitation as he reached for her hands to warm them up between his. He blew hot air between her fingers and rubbed them together.

(Y/N) was mesmerized, her flushed cheeks growing to down her neck. Mary noticed but didn’t say anything, only smirked.

“Better?” He stared at her with eyes alight with something Mary could only describe as adoring.

(Y/N) smiled, “Much.” She intertwined their fingers, asking him to join them back towards the castle.

~~~

“I think we have a problem.” Remus saw first, peering down the table at where James and (Y/N) were eating together. “I think our friend is losing sight of the goal.”

Sirius sat begrudgingly beside him, “Doesn’t he realize that every time he looks at Lily, (Y/N) notices?”

Speaking of the redhead, Lily Evans made her way down the aisle of seats to take one beside some other Gryffindors. James flickered his eyes to her before returning them to a suddenly much more sullen (Y/N).

Sirius practically growled into his dinner, “If he actually cared about (Y/N), he’d spare her feelings and go for Evans.”

Remus didn’t dare remark how at the beginning of the school year the pair of them were both ignoring (Y/N)’s feelings for a petty competition.

“Don’t be mean, Padfoot,” Peter whispered across the platters, “Just because they’ve kissed…”

He didn’t want the reminder. His fist clenched involuntarily beneath the table. “I can’t believe I’m losing. There’s no way he wants her more than I do.”

Perhaps he meant to say it just to himself, but it was loud enough for Remus to hear. The scarred boy felt sympathetic, looking to Sirius with a wary glance.

“Do you mean that?” Maybe he could give Sirius a much needed epiphany. “You want her?”

There was a silence as Sirius pounded away at his feelings. He felt them creeping up on him – making his heart race, his lungs constrict, his palms sweaty. He never used to feel that way. He was afraid to feel that way.

But he had tried to deny them for months now. After the mistletoe incident during Christmas, he had seemed to lose much of his persistence. His resolve was that he wanted (Y/N). Wanted her badly. But James had gotten there first.

Stupid, wonderful James. Of course she’d go for him.

Sirius looked at his best friend and knew he couldn’t ruin it for him. James deserved to be happy. Sirius couldn’t be selfish. As much as it now pained Sirius to see them together, he knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he stole (Y/N) right from under James.

But what if she came willingly?

Oh, shut up.

Sirius had simply given up trying to win (Y/N)’s affections. At this point, he was just waiting for the final verdict. He still spent as much time as he could with her without breaking his heart. He just knew that she preferred spending that time with James.

And he was okay with that…

He was learning to be okay with that.

Remus caught himself falling into a pained grimace as he watched the rainbow of emotion reflect in Sirius’ face.

His friend was suffering while the other prospered. “You don’t have to answer. I’ve known it for a while now.”

Sirius swallowed hard, flexing his fists on his knees. “I think we have to give her the ultimatum soon. The Easter holidays are next week – we could give her till after. She could have the whole break to think about it. James and I are staying here anyways, it’ll be perfect.”

Remus still looked at him skeptically, “I should’ve stopped this bet before it got so serious.” They didn’t say anything, and Remus continued, “I think you both didn’t expect to fall for her so easily.”

“She’s easy to love.”

Remus tried not to have such a noticeable reaction. He knew the slightest hint towards that conversation would scare Sirius right off. “Maybe you should talk to her.” He pointed towards the couple rising from their seats, James kissing the back of (Y/N)’s hand.

Sirius didn’t respond as James came waltzing back towards them. He didn’t even see the still sullen look on (Y/N)’s face as she retreated.

“Evening, boys,” James mused, “I would like to say that I’m feeling rather good about my prospects. I do believe I’m going to win this bet.”

Sirius felt his hands shake, “And once you do, are you going back to Evans?”

“Sorry?” James wiped the smirk from his face.

“That was the point, wasn’t it? Get the rebound to make Lily jealous.”

James paused to think of a proper response, “Sure, to make Lily jealous, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go for her again.”

A slow nod, “So you’re planning on going steady with (Y/N).”

Remus flickered his eyes between his two friends, he tried to interpret the look on James’ face. Did he realize what these words were doing to Sirius?

“If she’ll have me, yeah.”

Sirius had to rise from his seat after that. “Excuse me.”

He sped down the aisle of seats, heart beating rapidly beneath his burning chest. There was only one face he wanted to see, one that he wanted to hold. It was almost involuntary how fast he scoured the corridors outside the Great Hall. All he knew was that he wanted to see her. He wanted to tell her, show her.

And there she was continuing her retreat back to her common room.

“(Y/N)!” he sped ever quicker, a painful throb echoing in his chest. He noticed her slow her steps, but not turn to look at him. “What’s going on?”

He was met with a distressed look on her face, “Hello, Sirius.”

“Are you all right?”

There was a flicker of a smile gracing her features, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not sure.”

“Tell me,” he stated, staring into her downtrodden eyes.

“I don’t know what to do.” When she met his gaze it was like fire. “I – I don’t understand how I can choose.”

Sirius had an inkling about what she was referring too. As always he kept a respectable distance, not wishing to overwhelm her, though the burning in his chest tried to will him to hold her.

“Choose?”

“I’ve noticed James sort of pining over Lily. And when he does it makes me sad. Like I’m not the only girl for him.”

You’re the only girl for me.

“But when it’s just us two it’s like nothing else matters. I really do like him – but he’s not the only one on my mind.”

Sirius swallowed hard, “Yes?”

She stared up at him, guilt plainly visible. “But I don’t exactly know how he feels.” She remembered the way Sirius had held her face back when she tumbled off the owlery tower. The thought made her cheeks redden.

Sirius noticed, feeling that familiar churning in his stomach, something he usually fought against. But his hand betrayed him, reaching out to graze her blush with just his fingertips. His head yelled at him to stop, but his heart yearned to go further.

“And if you knew, it would help?”

“The plainer the better.” Her breathing hitched at the way his gaze melted into hers.

And then he was just inches away, his breath just as unsteady as hers against her lips. The fire seared through them as they connected, (Y/N) going limp but Sirius clamping his hands on either side of her face.

Every ounce of him screamed of desperation, of a longing for this moment. It was making (Y/N) dizzy, her lungs momentarily forgetting how to work. Sirius pulled away, catching his breath and leaning his forehead against hers.

“Does that tell you plain enough?”

She shivered at his whisper, “In the only way you can tell it. That’s always been you, Sirius – few words, full action.” She caught herself smiling but being confused at the contorted look on his face.

“You should take the Easter holidays. Think it through.” He finally backed away, though his hands held onto her for a fraction of a second longer, “We’ll respect your decision, no matter what it is.”

And unable to stand her gaze any longer, he ran off to the solitude of the Black Lake.

~~~

Peter shuffled uncomfortably at the Hogsmeade train station, Remus steady at his side. Steady, but concentrating on calming his nerves.

“How long does it take to get off the train?”

Remus sighed, “She’s probably getting every free second she can before facing us.”

The two of them were instructed to escort (Y/N) back to the castle, both James and Sirius agreeing the coming conversation would be handled better nearer to their dormitories.

James was afraid (Y/N) would pull a fast one and choose Sirius, even though they had a more intimate relationship.

Sirius was afraid that (Y/N) would pick James regardless of his moment of vulnerability with her. He couldn’t help but convince himself that she would want someone more apt at demonstrating public displays of affection.

Therefore, the duty was laid to Remus and Peter, the two that would ensure her safety and counsel her where it was needed.

Remus was collecting his thoughts as she quietly stepped off the train and onto the platform. He quickly offered to carry her trunk to the nearest carriage, “(Y/N)! How was your holiday?”

She gave a heavier sigh than expected, “Not long enough.”

Peter tip toed around to give her a hug, “We missed you. All of us.”

She tried to hold back a grimace, but followed them to the carriage, “They haven’t been giving you grief, have they?” There was a pause that confirmed her suspicions, “Of course they would be.”

“They’re anxious to see you,” Remus stated, sitting beside Peter, “They’re worried about you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sirius more depressed. And James has dug an imprint in the rug from all his pacing,” Peter prattled, not taking much heed to his words. “It’s been a long week for them as well.”

(Y/N) frowned, “Yeah, I’ve been much the same. Thank you – for meeting me.”

The ride back up to the castle was mostly silent, Peter squirming and Remus remaining rigid. (Y/N) could feel them both wondering the same thing: what was her decision? It sent more anxiety flooding threw her at the thought.

Peter appeared to be getting at his wits end as the school loomed every closer, “(Y/N)… can I ask?”

“Hmm?”

He swallowed, “Who won?”

That took her aback. What an odd way to phrase it. “Won?” Remus attempted to subtly nudge his friend a warning, but (Y/N) quickly caught it. “You mean won my affections? Who beat the other? How silly – you make it sound like a competition.”

She smiled but felt a wave of paralysis at the stony response from the other two. Peter looked absolutely petrified as Remus seemed to collect himself quicker.

“Yes, a very silly way to put it. He meant, who did you choose? Of course.”

“Are you…” she peered at them, her mind overworking. “Are you hiding something from me?”

“No, not at all,” Remus said all too quickly, “We’re just looking out for our friends.”

(Y/N) seemed more and more skeptical. The way these two were sitting uncomfortably put her on edge. There was clearly something going on and she knew exactly who to target for further questioning.

“Peter?”

The small blonde boy widened his eyes in fear, knowing his own resolve will be corrupted immediately. Remus seemed to think this too, closing his eyes to hide his exhausted defeat.

“What are you hiding? Has it got something to do with James and Sirius?”

Peter felt his own head nod without consent from his mind. He also felt a second jab to the ribs from Remus.

“Well, what is it?” She felt her heart beat faster. She knew it had something to do with what she said before. “Is… does it have to do with some competition?”

Peter turned towards his taller friend with a pleading look, very quietly saying, “It was a kind of competition.”

~~~

James and Sirius waited in the grounds near the pumpkin patch that was now filled with spring weeds and flowers.

A new imprint in the dirt spoke of James’ pacing, his hands being wrung before him. He kept straightening his hair to no avail, his skewed glasses falling farther and farther down his nose. He couldn’t understand how Sirius could stand so still near him.

Sirius was a statue, the only evidence of life being the quickened pulse and strenuous breaths working his lungs. He was determined not to show his reaction to her picking James. He was practicing now – practicing in keeping his composure.

It got harder as he saw students begin to flood the school gates. He watched James pause his frantic steps, straining to find their friends. Sirius refrained from doing it too, knowing that if he let himself he would begin to unravel.

James clutched his fidgeting hands together, spotting (Y/N), Remus, and Peter near the back of the crowd. A grin split his features and he bounced on his toes, “There they are!”

The two of them had hardly spoken a word all week, each wondering how their friendship would be after one of them was chosen. It was still hard to feel that the ‘best man should win,’ when each hoped that they’d be picked.

Sirius peered at the three figures making their way towards them across the grounds. Remus and Peter seemed less eager to reach them, carrying a trunk and keeping their heads down. (Y/N), on the other hand, was determinedly marching her way over.

It was plain to see that those steps were fueled with a kind of vigor. A kind of anger. And it seemed like James was beginning to recognize it too. He retreated a few steps to stand beside Sirius.

“Does she look upset to you?”

“It looks like she’s crying,” Sirius muttered. He could feel himself beginning to snap and unravel against his better judgement.

And the closer she got, the truer the assessment was. Her face was blotched and twisted in a kind of fury, one that made her breaths come out in sputters.

“You…” her voice was weak and betrayed.

And both boys had an idea on what was happening, though neither wanted to admit it. James craned his neck to see the ashamed looks on Remus and Peter’s faces.

“Now, (Y/N),” he stated, his anxious excitement plummeting to fear. “I don’t know what you heard…”

Sirius felt the blood drain from his face. What little hope he was experiencing distinguished in an instant.

(Y/N) finally reached them, raising her hand and giving an almighty smack across James’ cheek. She stumbled backward and looked ready to deliver another to Sirius.

James staggered, holding his face, absolutely stunned. But Sirius straightened out, knowing that he deserved it. But (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to do it again; she resorted to shoving Sirius away, hitting and pounding at his chest where she could.

“You… complete… arrogant… selfish… FUCKS!”

Cracks appeared in Sirius’ heart, his shoulders sinking to block her blows but not to stop her. She fumed, using her full force to push him away and retreat a few steps.

“A bloody COMPETITION? I suppose it was all some grand joke to you two.” She was sobbing now, fresh tears streaming down her already puffy cheeks. “Let’s see if we can get the stupid, naïve girl to fall in love with us – was that it?”

She paused for only a second, not wishing for a response just now, “I should have seen something what with the both of you wanting to suddenly be best friends with me out of the blue – and at the exact same time!” She ran her fingers harshly into her hair, “And it was all a LIE.”

Sirius started to shake his head, but James beat him to the first spoken word, “It’s not like that, (Y/N), not anymore.”

“Not ANYMORE?”

“Honest,” James tried to continue, “At first it was just to see who’d you like more. And now we – we both – feel very, very different.”

(Y/N) had her hands on her hips, not even bothering to wipe away her tears. “And that’s supposed to redeem the fact you did it in the first place?”

“No! Of course not, it’s just…” he looked towards the paralyzed Sirius, “You need to know that regardless of the intentions, we’ve both developed very real feelings for you.”

“Real enough to forget about Lily Evans?” she practically shrieked, “Did the rebound work for you?”

James stuttered, unable to form a worthy enough response. But (Y/N) didn’t need it, the look on his face was good enough. She instead rounded on Sirius, “And you.”

He set his jaw but blinked a few times. The burning, yearning in his chest was now aching – destroying him from the inside out.

“I suppose you think it’s funny trying to kill me to get my attention.”

The air left his lungs, “I… I never – I could never – find that funny.” But the hatred in her eyes was so real he thought nothing he said would take it away. It made him want to cower. “It was foolish and accidental how you fell. It wasn’t supposed to go that far.”

But she didn’t want to hear it. How he wished he could wipe her face clear, to kiss the pain away.

James outstretched a hand, “Please, (Y/N) – let’s go sit and talk. Allow us to apologize.”

She immediately started to shake her head, “I don’t need an apology. I couldn’t trust it anyway. I just wanted to see the look on your faces when I told you my decision. That I’ve made my choice.” She contorted her face into an unflattering sneer, “That neither of you get to win.”

She retreater farther, edging towards the castle, “Don’t you dare speak to me. Don’t you dare look at me. From this day on, you don’t exist in my mind. And you’re going to keep it that way.”

James took a hesitant step towards her but knew it was too late. She was stumbling away, uneasy on her exhausted feet. He felt his own eyes burning, not realizing that tears were flooding them. He let out a breath that stuttered and whimpered.

Sirius thought he could describe without a doubt the feeling of your heart being torn from your chest. He was beyond tears, beyond regret. There was no way he could recover from the despair that now encumbered him. He turned to the pained looks of Remus and Peter.

He saw their lips moving but could hear no noise. He found he couldn’t catch his breath.

This quite possibly could be the biggest mistake that either of them will make in their entire lives.

~~~

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface.

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion.

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan.

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way.

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness.

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound.

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up."

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though."

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong.

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up."

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives.

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over."

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly.

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners.

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort.

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day.

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot.

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated.

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself.

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could.

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind.

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn.

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre.

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor.

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened.

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you.

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress.

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't.

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands.

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment.

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night.

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed.

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band.

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor.

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused.

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval

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