#getting a reaction or reply out of him doesn’t sit well with me either
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soft cuddles with ateez
park seonghwa
he’s sitting on the floor, very intensely reaching the instructions to his new lego set that you bought him
there’s no reaction when you sit next to him to watch as his pretty fingers attach the pieces to one another
it takes about 5 minutes for you to lean your head on his shoulder and snuggle your cheek into his shoulder
he chuckles lightly, but just carries on with his lego, not giving you the attention you so clearly crave
it takes another 5 minutes for you to get bored and try to move away but seonghwa won’t let you
he finally takes his attention away from his lego set when you lift your head and begin to stand up
with a discontented hum, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you straight into his lap
“and where do you think you’re going, hm?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek, “stay with me while i make this, yeah?”
you agree and rest your head on him once more, except this time, comforted by his warm cuddles
kim hongjoong
you get a text from seonghwa at around midnight asking you to go and rescue your boyfriend from the studio
you agree, feelings of excitement and annoyance bubbling up within you simultaneously
excitement because you get to see your boyfriend but annoyance because he was overworking himself… again
it takes 10 minutes to walk to his studio and by the time you get there, you just want some warmth
you walk straight up to his studio, bypassing the receptionist who knows you well at this point, and knock on the door
“the doors open!” he calls out, presumably not wanting to leave his desk for even a second, “oh, hey baby!” he smiles the moment he sees you
you don’t answer him simply ambling over to him and dropping onto his lap
he chuckles and holds you close before going back to his work, idly chit-chatting with you every so often
“your skin is cold, baby. did you walk here?” you nod in response, “you should’ve got a taxi! i’ll finish soon and then we can go home and get warm, okay?”
you fall asleep on his lap before he gets chance to take you home, and the two of you end up sleeping on the sofa in his studio
jeong yunho
he’s been gaming for what seems like hours and you miss him
yes, you might literally be on your bed, 2 metres away from his desk, but you miss him so bad!
and no matter how many times you call him over and beg him to pay attention to you, you just get the same response
“just one more game and then i’m all yours, honey!”
it was either a really long game, or it was all lies…
you eventually get tired of waiting and scramble out of bed on your tired legs
he doesn’t even flinch when you crawl onto his lap and wrap your limbs around him in a koala-esque fashion
in fact, the most reaction you get is a deep chuckle in your ear and a kiss to your cheek before he goes back to his game
it doesn’t take long for him to finish and say goodbye to whoever it was on the other side of his headset
he just wraps his long arms around your waist and the two of you sit in a comfortable silence on his gaming chair for a while…
kang yeosang
you’ve had a bad day at work and all you want to do is get home and sit on the couch with your boyfriend
you have so much to complain about and yeosang is such a good listener and feeling his arms around you as you complain would be the best right now
but you get home and yeosang is nowhere to be seen
in fact, the lights are turned off and the living room is completely silent
you sigh, realising your boyfriend must not be home yet, and kick your shoes off before carrying yourself to your bedroom
except when you get to your bedroom, you can’t help but notice a mop of bleached hair splayed across one of your pillows and a yeosang shaped lump under the quilt
you smile, but you don’t say a word as you crawl into bed beside him
he wakes up just enough to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his chest
he mumbles something that sounds kind of like, “how was your day?” but you can’t tell
“better now i’m with you,” you reply anyway
choi san
you’re only just awake by the time san comes back from the gym
you open your eyes to him in front of the mirror, checking his own progress as the sweat covering his skin glistens in the soft morning light
“pretty,” you mutter as you watch his muscles flex
he jumps in surprise and spins around to face you with a look of shock
“babe, i didn’t even know you were awake,” he smiles and you can’t help but get all giggly as his dimples show, “just give me a minute to shower and then i’ll come give you your morning cuddles, okay?”
normally you’d agree, but for some reason you’re feeling extra clingy
“come cuddle me now, sannie,” you say as you hold your arms out to him
“i’m sweaty, babe,” he chuckles, “i’ll get the sheets dirty
he gives in when you pout and look at him like you’re about to burst into tears if he doesn’t cuddle you
“sheets can be changed,” you say as he lays with half of his body on top of you, “this is more important right now…”
song mingi
it’s your day off and yet you’ve spent all of it bored inside of your apartment waiting for your boyfriend to get home from work
first it was supposed to be 1pm, then you get a text letting you know it’d probably be closer to 2pm, and then 3pm
its 6pm now, and you’re staring at the front door as if that’s going to make your boyfriend walk through it any quicker
as sad as it makes you that he’s not with you, you know it’s hardly his fault that works been busy recently
you finally turn away from the door with a sigh and lie down on the sofa
seconds later, you hear the lock click open and a tired sounding mingi announce himself
“i’m home, sweetheart,” he grunts as he kicks his shoes off and slams the door behind him, “sorry i’m l-”
he gets cut off with a grunt when you leap at him and attach your body to his in a tight hug
your thighs are tightly wrapped around his waist and your arms hold onto his neck for dear life
“hi, baby,” he chuckles into your hair, “missed me, did you?”
jung wooyoung
he’s sick and whilst you’re trying not to get sick yourself, there’s only so much whining you can put up with before it gets insufferable
it starts with him whining about the soup not being warm enough, so you give him a tight lipped grin before replacing it
then suddenly he’s cold and begging for more blankets so of course, you oblige before the sound of his aegyo drives you insane
after you bring back the blankets, he wants tucking in
you give him a look before doing as he asks all while he smirks at you
“somethings still missing, baby,” he pouts and points to his lips, “a kiss?”
“absolutely not,” you shake your head, “i’m not catching the black death just because you’re being whiny!”
“fine, but can you come and check my temperature?”
again, you oblige, but before you can even touch his forehead, he has a hand around your wrist and you’re toppling down onto the bed beside him
his vice-like grip suddenly finds its way around you and you suppose you just have to accept your fate and cuddle him back…
choi jongho
you haven’t felt great for a while but after an argument with a sibling and just an overall bad day, you decide to retreat to your bedroom with your boyfriends hoodie and a pint of icecream
he promised he’s be there once he finished eating with the rest of the guys, but you don’t know if you can wait that long so you send him a text
you don’t want to be a burden and make him think it’s too urgent, but you still want to make sure he knows you’re not feeling great, so it’s just something short and to the point
you don’t expect him too soon, but within 15 minutes you can hear the tell-tale sound of his spare key sliding into your front door
“i’m here, baby,” he calls as he shuts the door, “where are you?”
you don’t need to respond for him to know you’re in bed, and before you can get a word out he’s already poking his head around the door frame
he gives you a sympathetic pout as he sees your red-ringed eyes and quickly sheds himself of his more sophisticated clothing as he can be comfy as he crawls in beside you
his bare arms wrap around your waist and he brings you as close as humanly possible to his chest
“you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong,” he whispers as he pets the back of your head, “but just know that i’m here to listen if you ever want to.”
perhaps tomorrow, you decide as you nuzzle into his neck and let his strong form swaddle you
#ateez reactions#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#ateez fluff#ateez x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez oneshot#atz x reader#atz fanfic#atz scenarios#atz fluff
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enha’s favorite petnames ´✩ˎ˗
requested <3
PAIRING ! enhypen x f!reader
WC ! 2.1k
GENRE ! tooth rotting fluff
WARNINGS ! lots of petnames ofc ^^
a/n: finally ot7 post woo! a bit shorter than my usual but hope u all enjoy <3
// LEE HEESEUNG !
if you’re the type to get flustered easily.. oh boy
you miiiight be in trouble
but even if you aren’t? hee WILL change that
this man will search a whole dictionary just to find a name that’ll get you shy for him
but on the average day he’s pretty chill yet flirty with pet names
its a bit unexpected.. the longer you’ve been dating the worse it gets
everything begins with baby
it just starts replacing your name like
“there’s my baby, how was your day, hm?”
before you can even get used to that he’s already gotten more confident
his other go to names for you are angel and occasionally pretty
mushy yet effective c:
for example if you’ve been having a rough day or just got back from work or school? healing gamer boyf hee to the rescue!
“missed you, angel. wanna come sit on my lap while i game?” with a kiss against your temple :c
it’s such a simple name that he’d only ever call you, n’ he always says it so absentmindedly as if the name was your own
the latter is commonly used when you’re mad at him
“m’ sorry pretty. can your boyfriend try and make it up with some cuddles? and i’ll let you pick a movie?”
or perhaps when he’s being evil and wants a reaction out of you
“hey pretty girl, can you pass the remote?” pArdon
where did that come from sir..
when your reply comes out stuttered he snickers
this is not to say he isn’t just as weak for you!!
make sure to get him back since IT ISN’T THAT HARD
hit him with ‘handsome’ and bros a goner
“morning handsome, how’d you sleep?”
“i just woke up, stop..” suddenly your smug, confident boyfriend is hiding the grin on his face in the safety of your shoulder
BUT proceed with caution because hee will never just let you win, nuh uh!
if you step up your game so will he, be prepared for him to hunt down any name in the book that can get you going <3
// PARK JAY !
cmon this man is the epitome of romance!
he doesn’t even nOtice the effect it has on you, as his s/o jay thinks it’s common sense that you should have all the special names ^^
“darling, want me to get you a drink? i washed your favorite mug.”
“sweetheart, should i cut up some fruit for you and the boys?” yeAh he’d literally be in the kitchen doing shit instead of joining in movie night (just like in sosofun T-T)
THE BOYS DON’T EVEN TEASE because it’s just so cute and pure
even if they did it isn’t like he’d care
brushes them off because nothing can stop him from showering you in love
after a while you soooorta get used to it
but like can you ever really get used to jay’s way of waking you up in the morning
“my love,” he mumbles, peppering kisses along the back of your head while holding you tighter against his sturdy chest, “time to get up, okay?”
you just ask how he expects you to get up when he’s holding and talking to you like that :c
either way pet names are quite important for jay
it’s a method to show how serious he is about your relationship, he doesn’t go around calling just anyone beautiful,,
so if you use them on him as well? his heart will MELT
literally anything you do makes him happy, even just baby would get him smiling
even if it’s over text,, “sleep well! goodnight, love” HE IS FAST ASLEEP WITH A GIDDY SMILE ON HIS FACE
all in all jay is a giver!
doesn’t expect anything in return for his labor, so having you call him such praising names like he does for you..?
just?! starts malfunctioning
his brain immediately goes to things like “how’d i get so lucky” “i don’t deserve her”
also why words of affirmation is one of his top love languages!! give him the affection he deserves <3
and and one time you tried to see his reaction by calling him husband on the phone with a friend
..bro didn’t even bat an eye
the real definition of husband material
// SIM JAKE !
now this one.. unironically uses all the playboy pet names
you see
he started calling you babygirl as a joke A JOKE OKAY
just teasingly or fake flirting as if you weren’t already together y’know
however.. the annoying name
kinda stuck
and now he brings it up every so often,,
bro’s lucky because it’d probs give you the ick from anyone else..
when you’d show off a new outfit or arrive at your date location?
“yoi! looking pretty, babygirl!” :)
his other favourite is princess! no reason just that you’re his princess
you rarely hear your own name any more it’s always just
“when’d you buy that, princess?”
“hey princess, is the food warm enough?”
not that you mind!
as for him.. jake literally loves anything and everything when it’s from your mouth
call him snookums for all he cares as long as it isn’t his boring old name
if you even try to call him jaEhyun or jake you’re getting the injured puppy eyes >:[
baby, love, handsome, literally anything makes him smile and mentally kick his feet like AUGHHH hes so in love with you it hurts!!
however this may seem oddly specific
‘cause it is but
calling him dumb things like my hero WILL GET HIM GRINNING SO FAST
jake loves! feeling helpful! and important! mainly for you!!
EVEN IF ITS JUST. he tied your shoe just go ‘my knight in shining armour! i would’ve tripped without you’ and mans will be doing a lil’ dance in his head <3
yes you could’ve tied your own shoe but heeee did that he’s such a good helpful caring wonderful boyfriend right?? right
let him have his moments,,
// PARK SUNGHOON !
he is. sort of sorry
listen.. hoon can’t help his shyness
even after dating for a while this man still blushes at the thought of calling you something besides your name T-T
he settles for.. babe
around others it’ll be your name
but in private he’ll just quietly go “babe, now that they’re gone can we continue that show?” awWw
sure when he’s being a teasing nuisance he’ll pinch your cheeks and start calling you cutie or my baby just to see your annoyed frown
but when you harmlessly ask why he doesn’t call you that at any other time he gets all fidgety and shrugs his shoulders
“i dunno! it’s.. embarrassing.”
so pretty much
the only real way to get pet names out of hoon is if you can muster up the courage to start using them first
just jump scare him like
“pretty boy, wanna go get ice cream?” he’ll be looking around the room pointing to himself going mE??!
then he’ll eventually start using them in return, maybe just baby or angel here or there
more specifically if he’s really missing you or needs something
“yah, angel~” he’d yell from your apartment’s entrance, “you look good and all.. but we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry!!”
“wanna come visit the recording room at break? baby i’ll cry from exhaustion if you don’t.”
synopsis is. you know he reaaally needs you when those names come out
but but! like mentioned before he feels most comfy with casual nicknames
and if you’re okay with it, your own name which sometimes feels even more special to hoon ^^
he just loves saying your name as much as he loves everything else about you
however if pet names mean a lot to you no need to worry, he’ll get the hang of em’ and soon this dork will have you a blushing mess 24/7 mwahaha!
// KIM SUNOO !
baby is.. more romantic than you think!
as he warms up,, his favourite is simply calling you his love :c
in fact, he doesn’t mind saying it in front of the members even if they’re sure to tease him later on
“my love!” he exclaims as soon as you answer the phone, “i’m on the way to practise with everyone, wanna visit at lunch? jungwon keeps mentioning some mario movie he wants to watch with you..” *eyeroll*
he’s very.. go with the flow
if you call him a specific name then he may use the same one on you too ^^
for example, it was a bit unexpected to hear him start calling you hun
but at the same time you’ve called him that a couple times before too
sunoo always tries to catch on quickly when it comes to what you’re comfy with!
you wrap your arms around your boyfriend's waist just as he drops his duffle bag on the floor, “sun, how was recording?”
“ahh.. the others were yelling and gave me a headache. but it’s okay now that i’m with you, hun,” despite his exhaustion, he squeezes you with equal enthusiasm <3
as for himself, sunoo can’t help but smile when you call him the softer stuff
AND sun of course, it’s cute but simple — his favourite!
despite being the oldest of the maknae line, he’s used to being coddled a lot and sometimes.. it gets annoying
especially when the younger members join in
however when it comes to you?? he couldn’t care LESS
“my baby looks so tired, wanna sleep in my lap?” yep he’s absolutely sold
sometimes you have to repeat yourself ‘cause he was too busy getting flustered over your names for him <\3
// YANG JUNGWON !
being known for copying things like ‘yoi’
wonnie sometimes gets his pet names by watching/reading things
he could be on the plane during tour, watching a movie when the main lead says ‘beautiful’ and his first thought is just
“ah, that’s a good name for y/n”
may or may not have a note tab in his phone dedicated to names for you..
he would even research ones in other languages because he LOVES seeing your shy reaction when he explains what it means
“yah, why’d you text me something in a different language?”
when his cat eyes turn to crescents and his dimple poked through, you know he’s proud of whatever it is
“it means ‘darling’ in chinese, jagiya.”
when your expression changes and you turn to hide your smile, he leans over to give you a victory kiss through many giggles <3
on a day to day basis though
he enjoys saying your name in a cute way, besides the classic jagi/jagiya
“y/n~ come cuddle!” c’mon how’re you gonna say no!?
“look jagi,” he says it absentmindedly, even with the members nearby, “you’re my lockscreen now!”
will think it’s cute if you use the same names back, but won doesn’t mind anything ^^
he just really enjoys matching with you whether it be petnames, outfits, jewelry, anything really
so if there’s a specific name you like calling him
he’ll definitely steal it..
“bub, wanna order something for dinner?”
cat boyfriend just tilts his head, “okay, but why am i bub now?”
“i dunno, it’s just a cute name.”
then a few days later he—
“bub! i missed you!!” as soon as you walk through the door <3
cutie T-T
// NISHIMURA RIKI !
creative boy likes being unique with it :0
also ‘cause using super mushy names simply isn’t his style bUt
perhaps when he gets older that’ll change,,
most of the time babe/baby is an exception though
its quick, sweet, and right to the chase which is perfect for your impatient boy especially when he needs attention
“babe, babe, babe-“
you push him away slightly, holding the phone closer to your ear, “can’t you see i’m on the phone, ki?”
before you know it his arms are wrapped around you as his head dips into the crook of your neck, “baby i’m bored..”
“just a bit longer, okay?”
sometimes you may need some patience T-T
he also enjoys finding ways to make his own personal nickname out of your name, it feels much more special to him even if it’s not as ‘romantic’
AND OH BOY if anyone
absolutely anyone tries to use HIS name for you they’re getting the coldest death glare >:[
especially if it’s one of his members
in that case he has zero shame telling them off
“ow! what was that for?” jake whines, recoiling from the punch the younger had delivered to his arm
“you used my name for y/n,” he explains with a shy yet scolding grin, “the only thing you’re allowed to call her is her name, idiot.”
poor jake had to retell his story from the beginning,, sigh
just because he doesn’t do it himself does noT mean he won’t want you to call him cute shit!!
his reactions are always so worth it
“love, do you see my phone over there?” you feel bad interrupting your boyfriend who was peacefully napping in the living room, but the stress of being late for work was worse
instead of looking around though, riki only peels his eyes over to you, smiling giddily
“what was that?”
“have you seen my phone, doofus,” you repeat
“no, the first part!”
“love…?” suddenly he’s running over, picking you up and pulling you right over to the couch with him happily
good luck escaping his grasp c:
if u enjoyed, reblogs n’ feedback is always appreciated!
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𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟕: 𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐚 。°。° 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: uramichi omota x afab!reader
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut {minors + ageless blogs dni!! you’ll be blocked}
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!uramichi, established relationship, morning sex, rough sex, vaginal sex, slight exhibitionism, mating press, dumbification, tummy bulge, creampie, uramichi carries the reader because he’s a strong mf
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k+
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆. rolling over you come face to face with uramichi, who looks like he’s already regretted opening his eyes. you have to place a hand over your mouth in order to hold in your giggles.
uramichi seems less than amused, especially at your laughter. “is my pain funny to you?” he grumbles. “i really don’t want to go to work today”.
if you can recall correctly, uramichi never wants to go to work. however, now doesn’t seem to be the time to tease him so you try to sympathize. “i don’t want you to leave either. wish we could stay in bed all day together”.
your attempt to empathize backfires. the idea alone of being able to nap with you instead of heading to his job makes uramichi feel even more miserable. now he’s suddenly desperate to find an excuse to slip out on his responsibilities.
“what if i called in sick?”.
“but you said today's shoot was important”.
“i’m sure they wouldn’t miss me that much”.
“i think the kids would be sad if you didn’t show up”.
he opens his mouth to counter your argument but he comes up empty. at some point uramichi quits, sitting up in bed and hanging his head in sorrow. you sit up next to him and begin to rub his stiff shoulders. “listen, it’s not that i want you to leave but we can always spend time together when you get home”.
when this fails to cheer your boyfriend up you lean in closer to his ear. “or we could have some fun right now before you go. how’s that sound?” you suggest as you nibble on his lobe. well that certainly gets a reaction. all of a sudden uramichi raises his head and looks at you with hungry eyes.
“we’ll have to be quick so i’m not late,” he says, pushing you back down onto the mattress so he can hover over you. that’s completely fine with you. wordlessly you slip your pajama bottoms down your legs. wearing nothing but boxers, uramichi doesn’t have to take off much to allow his cock to spring free.
uramichi’s fingers first find their way to your clit, massaging it before he slips to fingers inside of you. you’re mewling underneath him as he prepares you for more, pumping his digits until you're wet enough for his liking. your cunt isn’t left alone for very long after he removes his fingers. uramichi’s quick to start sliding his girth between your folds in order to collect some of your slick.
“you’re so wet and i’ve barely done anything” he groans, ceasing his teasing to aim his fat tip at your welcoming hole. despite his size, uramichi somehow manages to slip in with ease. as your warmth engulfs him he finds himself groaning. “it is first thing in the morning. how rough do you want it?” he asks, cock twitching inside of you with anticipation as he awaits an answer.
“no need to treat me so delicately just because we just woke up” you reply, eyes already lidded as he stretches you out so deliciously. “fuck me as hard as you want. don’t care if we wake up the neighbors”.
you don’t have to tell him twice. normally uramichi would never want to disturb another person’s rest but you feel too good for him to care. pushing your legs against your chest, uramichi thrusts his hips at full force. there’s no stopping the loud moan that echoes from your lips as he pounds your tiny pussy.
a string of curses falls from uramichi mouth as his big hands keep your thighs in place. in no time the snapping of his hips makes your headboard bang against the wall. “shit- do you feel down deep i am?” he questions.
how can you not? his dick is leaving an imprint in your stomach. it was typical for uramichi to reach places you didn’t even know existed inside of you but today it was somehow deeper. there was no doubt he was taking out his frustration about having to get out of bed on you but honestly you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“gonna be thinking about this pussy all day. you gonna be thinking about my cock?” he demands, eyebrows knitted together as he tries to focus on making his thrusts slightly more precise. already going dumb, you nod your head.
“y-yes, fuck- gonna miss your cock so much. need you to come home fast so you can fuck me again” you whine as your legs tremble. you’re getting close and uramichi notices as you start to clamp down on him.
“i will, trust me. for now just cum nice and hard for me, yeah? you can be good and do that right?”.
again you’re nodding frantically back at him. that familiar feeling is starting to swell up in your tummy. before you know it your release hits you hard, making you cream around him. seeing your eyes roll back in your head and your jaw falling open as you leave a white ring around him is enough to make uramichi’s cock burst. next thing he knows he’s emptying his balls inside of you without giving a proper warning.
uramichi pants, uncharacteristically out of breath as he works you both through your eyes. normally it takes a lot for him to actually break a sweat but today he might have gone a little overboard. “you okay?” he seems genuinely concerned as he pulls out and lets go of your legs.
your limbs feel like jelly but a stupid smile spreads across your face anyway. “i’m fine but if you don’t mind, i might need you to carry me to the shower before you leave for work,” you giggle. “don’t think i’ll be able to make it on my own”.
“i’ve got time for that,” uramichi reassures, scooping you up like you weigh nothing. “promise i won’t go as hard on you when i get home tonight”.
“who said i wanted you to do that?” you hum as he takes you to the bathroom. “if anything you can be a little rougher. 𝐈’𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍 𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐘”.
2022–2023 © ilyluffy — do not repost or translate my work. likes, reblogs, and comments are welcome
#uramichi omota#uramichi oniisan#life lessons with uramichi oniisan#uramichi omota x reader#uramichi omota smut#uramichi oniisan x reader#uramichi oniisan smut#apollo writes ✎
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The “It” Girl | 6
summary: Being a rookie in the world of Formula One comes with challenges, added on with the fact you’re a girl, American and racing for Red Bull doesn’t help. While you do have your “guard dogs” and “it girl” tendencies, it doesn’t help that you’re also trying to figure out romance.
pairing: 2021 grid x fem! driver, lando norris x fem! driver reader
warnings: sexism, alcohol consumption, toxic environments, uncomfortable situations, angst
Previously: Why was it so difficult for you? Sure you had experienced things like this in karting, and the other ranks of Formula Racing, but this felt different.
You slide down against the door and quietly sob to yourself, not wanting to run to Max or Lewis this time.
Suddenly a knock comes on the door, and Lando’s voice filters through the door. “Y/n can I come in?” He asks softly.
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
“You’re the last person I want to see” You reply dryly, wiping the tears off your face. You hear a sigh on the other side of the door, and a moment of silence. “I know Y/n, but can I please come in to at least talk for a moment?” Lando says, sounding slightly frustrated.
“Why? Are you going to insult me some more?” You say angrily, opening the door.
You open the door and Lando enters, his face fills with shock and irritation to see you looking so depressed. He walks over and sits down on the bed next to you. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier, I didn’t mean what I said.” He says quietly, “but you were annoying me, and you should just stop being so sensitive, it’s annoying.”
The words land like stab wounds to your heart. “Just stop being sensitive?” You say, your eyes filling with tears again. “Thanks for the great fucking advice and kindness, I really appreciate it!” You say annoyed.
Lando’s eyes fill with annoyance as you lash out at him, “Well maybe you should just learn to get over yourself. You always complain to Max about everything.”
He continues to glare at you, his eyes filling with frustration. “You know, it’s obvious you like me, but you’re too much of a pussy to admit it.”
Lando looks to you trying to gauge your reaction as his tone softens slightly.
You scoff to yourself, “You’re a fucking dick Lando, you know that?” You say voice full of spite.
“And you’re a sensitive little pussy who needs to stop getting so offended at everything.” Lando says in return, his voice filling with annoyance as he stares at you.
“But hey, guess it doesn’t matter too much, I’ll get over you by the end of the season either way. We don’t need to be friends” Lando says, looking away from you and at the wall in front of him.
You just sit there silently, tears forming in your eyes again as they fall down your face.
“Oh no, here we go again.” Lando says under his breath, his annoyance filling his tone with a bit more spite and anger.
“Just let it out Y/n, you know crying is your favorite thing to do.” He says in an irritated tone.
You’re too tired to say anything back, too tired to fight him back, or else you would.
Lando notices your silence, and his tone softens a tad bit. “Do you want me to leave so you can cry alone, or do you want me to stay so you can yell at me some more? What do you want me to do Y/n?” He asks softly, his tone filling with slight annoyance.
“Can you just shut up? Please? Like for one moment stop talking” You say softly, leaning back onto the bed.
Lando stares at you with an annoyed expression, before he sighs and leans back against the bed next to you. He remains silent, his face still filled with irritation as he stares straight ahead.
You are too exhausted to carry on, and you begin to feel as if you are going to fall to sleep. Before you do, Lando turns his face towards you. “Can I just lay with you until I fall asleep?” He whispers softly, his face now filled with sadness rather than annoyance. “Please?” Lando adds on.
“Sure whatever” You mumble out, too tired to quite care what happens. You slowly fall asleep next to him on the bed.
You slowly drift off to sleep next to Lando, both of you laying in the bed in silence.
Lando seems unable to fall asleep, and you can feel him still staring at you.
Eventually he leans over and kisses you on the forehead, before also closing his eyes and falling asleep.
You remain in his embrace, and you begin to feel a slight twinge of guilt, mixed with a feeling that you do appreciate his gesture.
You feel his arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you close to him as you drift off to sleep. You feel his chest rise and fall as he breathes, and after a moment of thinking you realize that you feel quite safe with him.
You wake up several hours later in the same position as when you fell asleep, and you notice that Lando is still asleep. His arm wrapped around you tightly, and your head resting against his chest.
You lay there for a moment, enjoying the sense of security that you feel, before realizing you should probably wake up Lando.
You reach up and shake Lando’s arm, trying to wake him up. After a few moments of shaking him, Lando opens his eyes and looks down at you with a half-asleep expression.
“Wha? What time is it?” He asks tiredly as he rubs his eyes and tries to regain his senses.
“It’s uh..1:28 am, do you want to head back to your room?” You mumble out tiredly.
Lando nods his head, “Yeah, I don’t really want to be sleeping in your bed.” He says, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. “Although it was sort of nice having you next to me.” He says softly, blushing slightly as he speaks.
“Well I’ll see you in the morning I guess.” Lando says, turning around to head back to his room. You can see a slight smile on his face as he walks out the door, and you’re not too sure why you feel slightly warm at the sight of that smile.
You fall back asleep in bed, feeling better this time.
You fall back to sleep, feeling a lot more relaxed and at ease in the bed. You drift off and soon you’re in another deep slumber. When you finally open your eyes again it’s already morning but you feel more relaxed than you’ve felt in days.
You check your phone, seeing you have two hours before you even have to be at the track. Then you look through your notifications, seeing the pictures Alex sent of you and Lando on the plane you smile at them.
You text your PR manager Elliot asking him and Charlotte if they’ll be making a statement of you and Landos “relationship” anytime soon.
You text Elliot asking if he and Charlotte are planning to make a statement about your and Lando’s relationship soon, to which he replies:
“Hey Y/n, I’m talking with Charlotte about it now and we’re leaning towards yes, but we’re not 100% sure yet. We’ll know more after the race.”
You feel your stomach drop with a sudden sense of nerves as you read Elliot’s text message, not sure how the FIA or public, who were against you, would take it.
You feel your heart begin to race a bit as you re-read Elliot’s message, and after a moment of consideration you reply back:
“Thanks Elliot, can you make sure you keep me updated so I can mentally prepare myself.”
You lean back against the pillow, taking a few deep breaths.
“You’ll be okay…” You mutter softly to yourself, stretching in bed.
“You’re a woman in Formula One, you can do anything” You add on, finally getting up out of bed and getting ready for the media duties ahead.
Before you know it you’re arriving to the track, but as you get out of your car to walk into the paddock you spot Lando walking your way.
You walk towards the Paddock when you see Lando walking towards you, your mind suddenly racing with thoughts. Suddenly you’re hit with the feeling of nerves and anxiety, as you are unsure what to expect.
Lando looks at you and smiles, not saying a word as he walks closer and puts his arm around you, his smile still on his face.
You look at him with shock, but realize he probably wants you two to walk into the paddock together for the PR stunt.
You place a fake smile on your face as the pair of you walk into the Paddock together. The two of you quickly draw the attention of the fans and reporters, and as you two walk through the Paddock you can hear the reporters talking to you as well.
Lando seems more than happy with the attention, and seems happy for the fans to be shipping the two of you together.
Photographers go crazy, flashes of cameras as you and Lando walk together.
You and Lando walk together through the Paddock, attracting a crowd of fans and reporters. The photographers continue to flash their cameras as they try to get the best pictures of the pair of you walking together hand in hand.
All of the sudden you can feel Lando grab your hand tight, the grip firm and hard. You quickly look up at him, wondering why he had done this.
“What’s wrong?” You mumble out softly, eyes still on him. You follow his eyes and spot Carlos looking at you too during his interview, then it hit you.
You follow his eyes and spot Carlos looking at you as well during his interview, which causes you to suddenly have a realization. You suddenly look back at Lando, and the dots begin to connect.
You slowly look back at Lando, seeing the gears shift in his eyes and the feelings he had come back up from that fateful weekend.
You gently squeeze his hand, trying to reassure him everything is okay.
Lando looks at you as you squeeze his hand, his eyes filling with emotion as all of the memories of that weekend seem to come rushing back to him.
You notice his face fill with worry and irritation, and his grip on your hand loosens, his arms slumping by his sides.
“You should go to the Red Bull garage” He mumbles out.
“Right..” You mumble out weakly, turning away from Lando and heading to the Red Bull garage, going to meet with Elliot to do your media duties.
Media day and qualifying passes by quickly, and before you know it’s race day. You zip up the rest of your race suit, pulling your balaclava down and put your helmet on.
In a blink of an eye you're lined up in the P4 position, Valtteri ahead of you and Lando behind you in P5.
Then the lights go out, your nerves and adrenaline reacting before you do. You’re one lap down, stuck in the same position as you were before.
“Gap between Norris is 1.6 seconds” You race engineer says, “Defend” He adds on.
“Roger” You reply, defending against Lando. He tries to overtake you but his front tyre smashes into your rear one.
Your RB16 is sent flying, your halo keeping you safe as it slides against the track and flips into the barrier. Your head slams back, vision fading.
“Y/n? Y/n are you okay?” You hear the fading voice of your engineer. Complete darkness surrounds you, since after all, you had passed out.
Lando however, wasn’t aware of that. “Fuck! For fucks sake, was that Y/n?” He says over radio to his own engineer, panic and frustration evident in his tone as stops his McLaren.
“Yes we can confirm that was L/n” His engineer replies, “Zak doesn’t want you leaving” He adds on.
“I don’t give a fuck what Zak wants, that’s my girlfriend” Lando growls out before getting out of his McLaren and running over to help the marshalls.
…..
“No I don’t give a fuck if you’re her “boyfriend” I’m not letting you in here! The last time you spoke to her you made her cry, she’s my fucking sister!”
You could make out the faint angered voice of Max, with a groan you wake up, the lights from the hospital flooding your vision.
“Just let me see her!” Lando says, exasperation clear in his voice. You look around and see Max blocking the door with Lando trying to get in.
“No! You’re the reason she’s here!” Max adds on, shoving Lando as some nurse tries to stop their arguing.
“Hi I’m sorry but you guys need to quiet down..” The nurse says nervously, but with one glare from both Max and Lando she walks off, probably too tired to care at that point.
You groan again, sitting up slightly, but as you feel the pain of your injuries you lie back down, your head spinning as you lay awake.
You can hear voices coming from outside the door, with one sounding familiar but you are too disoriented to recognise who it is.
Max and Lando’s voices stay disoriented, you just lay there on the bed staring up at the ceiling, for one of them to notice you awake, but they’re stupid.
You glance around the room, noticing some flowers, cards and stuffed animals from team members, friends and other drivers. But the one that sticks out is a French bulldog stuffed animal, with a card on the table next to you.
A smile forms on your face, knowing it’s from Lewis. You reach over to grab it but let out a groan. Lando shoves past Max and rushes towards you. “Hey just lay back down, I’ll take care of you..” He murmurs out, grabbing the stuffed dog and placing it in your hands.
Max lets out an annoyed huff and rolls his eyes, showing that he wasn’t thrilled Lando was here.
“How are you holding up?” Lando asks, his tone calm but his eyes filling with concern.
Max glances over at the pair of you, and then rolls his eyes and leaves the room.
“I don’t need you taking care of me.” You say to Lando, your voice still slightly weak and soft from the accident.
“I just don’t understand you Lando..” You add on, “One moment you act loving towards me, then the next you’re closed off and insulting me”
You glance at Lando, “I know what I did hurt you, I know I should have talked to you..”
“Yeah well that’s how relationships are Y/n.” Lando says softly, “It’s never perfect, we’re going to have ups and downs.” He says, glancing away from you.
You can see his expression change when he sees you looking at him, and suddenly his gaze hardens and he looks back at you. “Let’s just forget this ever happened.” He says coldly, glancing away from you.
“No..please Lando, don’t walk away, I’ve already lost you once..” You say softly, voice breaking as a lump forms in your throat.
“I know whatever this is, I know it’s PR and fake dating..I know that..”
“But I can’t help that I long for you..”
Your voice seems to hit a nerve in Lando as his eyes fill with shock, and his body language immediately relaxes. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, but then closes his mouth and turns away from you.
He stands there looking away from you, his eyes now filled with guilt and shame as his hands curl up tight into fists.
After a moment of silence, Lando lets out a sigh and walks away, closing the door behind him.
Your body goes numb, heart breaking as you hold your breath, hoping he comes back and changes his mind.
But he doesn’t, instead it’s Max coming in. Clearly pissed off.
He stops in his tracks as soon as he sees you, eyes watering and the color drained from your face.
“That pussy..” He mutters out to himself, coming to your side and pushing your head into his chest as he wraps his arms around you.
You let out a deep breath as Max wraps his arms around you, your body almost instinctively moving towards him as he pulls you into his embrace.
You close your eyes as you rest your head on his chest, the tears already spilling from your eyes as you begin to cry against his shirt.
You close your eyes and just soak in his embrace, feeling some reassurance and feeling at home in his arms.
“What do I do Max..” You whisper into his chest, body shaking as you sob. You knew Max was the person you needed right now.
“I don’t know Y/n…I really don’t know..” He whispers back. “How about during this break you come over and visit Kelly and P?” He suggests softly.
“Sure..sure” You mumble out, mind still set on Lando.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
radio 🪩: Just one more part till the end of the series!! I’ll probably end up making a few sequel chapters 💙
Taking requests: ✅
taglist: @willowpains @m0cha-bunny @formula1mount @fennecspage @80sloverry @nichmeddar @sadg3 @microskies-blog @mycenterfold @victoriaholland @aurora-maria @tswizzleismother @camdensreg @lazybot @i-wish-this-was-me @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @landosgirlxoxo @woozarts @disneyprincemuke
next chapter
#formula one#formula 1#forumla 1#formula 1 x reader#lando norris#x driver reader#f1 x female reader#f1 female driver#f1 wags#red bull f1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#f1 2021#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#formula one x y/n#formula one x reader#red bull team#red bull racing#mclaren#formula one x driver reader#x female reader#x fem!reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#red bull formula 1
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{Stray kids calling you ma’am}
Written!reaction
Hyung line
Warnings: slightly suggestive, feminine pronouns used for reader
(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) (:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧
He only calls you ma’am when he’s either “scared” of your authority or when he’s trying to sweet talk you it’s a 50/50 chance of it working or backfiring
you and Chan were currently baking just a small batch of cookies, you were following your mothers recipe since it’s the best cookie you’ve ever had, what you shouldn’t have done is leave him in control of the ingredients proportions
after all the mixing was done you were ready to put them in the oven but you wanted a little taste test, you pick up a small clump and pop it in your mouth and froze, this was not your moms cookies
you slowly turn to Chan who was reading back over the written out recipe with a slightly worried look he slowly looks back up at you being met with your scowling eyes, you both realized the mistake he made
“so channie…” He gulps before shakily replying “yes babe…”
“tell me, how much honey does that paper call for.” He slightly smiled appreciating the seriousness you take with your mom homemade recipe
“uhm… it says one teaspoon per 1/2 a cup of flour, and I just put one tablespoon” you chuckle “so you know what you did wrong?”
“yes ma’am” he looks up shyly hoping the name will cool you off, surprisingly it did
“well good, atleast you own up to it!” He pops his head up shocked at your relatively calm reaction; is she seriously not going to punish me? I’m free?
“well I still want my moms cookies. So while these bake your going to make another batch, THE RIGHT WAY” you cross your arms with a smirk
Chan sighed wishing he hadn’t jinxed it “yes ma’am” he turns around the grab another bowl while secretly smiling, “she’s even pretty when she’s upset” he thought
after your put the cookies in you walk over to give him a little peck on the cheek before sitting down at the bar to watch him struggles with a flushed face
𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨
He uses it to tease hoping you’ll do something about it and gets upset when you shrug it off, he also likes to call you that when he’s being scolded, he’s just bratty about it
“just admit it min you did that on purpose!” You guys were in a very intense smash bros battle, you both are at one life and you sure as hell weren’t losing to his bratty smack talk, but RIGHT before you were about the ultimate him he “accidentally” closed out of the game
a gasp left your lips before snapping your neck to the side ready to chew him out
“YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE DIDNT YOU!!!” He smirks before looking away “no ma’am I would neverrr” he giggles at the angry face you put on
“oh you think this is funny?” He nods in response still giggling lightly
you scoff “oh I’ll show you funny” you pull him out of his sitting position by his wrist then slammed him on his back
his eyes widen “ohhh is this a punishment ma’am?“ you laugh at his confidence “no, but this is” you quickly rush your fingers up his sides while scratching lightly at his skin, you know his sides are very ticklish
*“aAHHHHH, S-STOP Y/N!!” laughter took over both of your while Minho started tearing up over how hard he was laughing
“I ADMIT IT, IT WAS ON PURPOSE!!” He try’s desperately to push you off, but the laughter made him weak
you finally give in and pull your hands off; he launched up ready to screech about how unfair that was before realizing that probably won’t be the best idea
he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest awaiting for you to say something; “if we start another round are you going to cheat again min?” He sighs while resting his head on his hands
“no ma’am. I’ll play fair” lifting off his hands to rest his head on your shoulder in defeat, but it was all worth it when he got a very long kiss on the forehead which made him shiver
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧
He doesn’t do it to get his way, he just does it out of respect he wants to show you how much he respects you as a person, you want something he’s there, you ask for something he is there!
“binnie be a dear and get me a glass of wa-” “YES MA’AM!!” Sitting up so fast he made him self a little dizzy
“slowly bin jeez don’t pass out” he turns around “I’m fine! I’ll get you your water :)” happily bouncing out of the room to retrieve your water 
he is always willing to do any simple task your not bothered enough to do
once he comes back with the glass in hand he places it on your nightstand before hopping back in bed with you reaching for your arm to hold on to, as you continue to scroll on your phone the nickname finally caught up to you
“ma’am huh” you speak softly he lifts his head up to meet eye to eye, “what?” He whispered. “Oh I find it cute that you call me ma’am, makes me feel like you actually take me seriously” his mouth agapes slightly; “well of course I take you seriously?” He furrows his eyebrows “You think I didn’t?”
you chuckle “no it’s just a cute quirk that’s all I’m saying binnie” he smiled widely “ok y/nnie!”
hes so happy to have literally anything to do with you <3
𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧
Similar to changbin he just wants to show his respect for you, you could order him to do any measly task and he’ll gladly do so to earn good boy points
you just made up a list of a few tasks that need to be done while your gone, now you just need to stick them to hyunjin
“jinnie I have a few things I need you to do” he turns around from his desk where he’s currently drawing “yes jagi? Like what?” He tilts his head curiously “just some chores don’t get to excited, pretty please clean up the kitchen and do both mine and your laundry, and tidy your mess in here” he jumps up out of his chair “oh yes ma’am! It’ll all be done before your get back”
you laugh at his enthusiasm “well you don’t need to do it that fast, I don’t want you to tax yourself” he gasps while smacking his hands on his face “are you saying I’m to weak too handle a little laundry! I’m strong I can do it see!” He flexed his arms at you
“uhm ok… aslong as It’s done jinnie” You run over to give him a goodbye kiss and a hug before running out the door
throughout the day you checked in on him to make sure he was ok (he can’t go 10 minutes without talking to you so it was mostly him texting)
once you got back everything was clean, spotless. Until you heard groaning from the coach, you drop your back and walk over to see Hyunjin laying down watching the TV while massaging his arms
“you cleaned everything didnt you?” “…yes ma’am” You sigh “Did you stretch before picking up the furniture, he looks away; “no I forgot..” you chuckle “of course you did, well I’ll give you a nice massage while we watch TV” he smiles at your care for him
he always does more than you ask and sometimes he doesn’t know when it’s good enough
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hey sweetie!!!
This prompt was my original idea and I’m so sorry for the lack of request responses but here is a little something!!
Pt.2 will be coming soon!! Byeee💋
#kpop fluff#kpop reactions#stray kids reactions#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fluff#stray kids#kpop#bang chan#changbin#minho#hyunjin#hyung line
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Don’t tell Jay -Jay Halstead
Summary: When you are still in pain when you should be fully recovered from surgery, you try to sneak to Med to not bother Jay. Will is not having it.
Mentions: Natalie Manning, Will Halstead, and Maggie Lockwood
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and medical talk. Nothing really.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you woke up still in pain after tossing and turning in Jay’s arms all night, you knew you needed to go to Med. You pretended to be asleep when Jay left an hour ago, knowing he would stay home and insist on accompanying you to see Natalie. You had surgery two weeks ago today, and you FINALLY just convinced Jay to go back to work three days ago. He had been by your side for a little over a week and a half, pampering you and making sure you were healing up nicely. You loved him and appreciated him, but you could tell he was ready to climb the walls. He was a man of action and, though he loved taking care of his wife, he needed to be with his unit and in the action.
Hopping into your car, badge in your backpack even though you hadn’t been cleared for duty yet, you made your way to Med. You knew Will was most likely on shift this morning, so you prayed he wouldn’t see you. He would call Jay as soon as you were put in a room.
Walking into Med, you bypassed Leah, smiling at the receptionist and waving like nothing was wrong, and made your way toward Maggie. The charge nurse looked up as her ED doors slid open, immediately coming around the desk at the sight of you.
“Hey Y/N. Here to see your brother in law?” Maggie asked, smiling and pulling you in for a quick hug.
You mustered up the biggest smile you could and shook your head. “Actually, I need Nat.” You barely got the sentence out before Maggie was pulling you into a room.
“Sit down. You look flushed.” Maggie said, placing you on a gurney and pulling out her phone. She pressed a few buttons before placing it to her ear, balancing it with her shoulder. “Nat. I need you in treatment 4. Now.” Maggie said, waiting for a second before hanging up and taking your temp as she went. “100.” She muttered, placing the pulse ox on your finger and blood pressure cuff on, pushing the button to start it as Nat and Will walked in.
You groaned, making immediate eye contact with your brother in law. “Ah Hell.” You muttered, causing Maggie to chuckle. “Don’t call Jay.” Was your immediate reaction to his presence.
Will rolled his eyes, staying in the doorway as Nat approached you. “You know he will kill us both when he finds out.” Will replied, looking cocky cause he knows you know he’s right. “You never know when he will walk through those doors either.” He pointed out.
You nodded, throwing your head back in defeat. “Fine.” You caved, crossing your arms and looking to Nat.
“What’s goin on?” Natalie asked, coming to your side and rubbing your arm.
“I’ve got some pelvic pain. And lower back pain. It doesn’t feel normal so here I am.” You explained, gesturing around the room.
“Heart rate and BP are high. Temp of 100 and oxygen is at 95.” Maggie rattled off, looking at Natalie first and then Will.
“I’ll be back. Hang in there kiddo.” Will said, patting your leg and taking out his phone. He was gonna call Jay.
Natalie nodded and started pulling off her stethoscope. “Let me take a listen and then I wanna look at your incision site and take a feel. That okay?” Natalie asked, already adjusting her ear pieces.
You nodded and laid back, trying to relax. After taking a listen and feeling your abdomen, Natalie stepped back and grabbed the Ipad Will left for her at the foot of your bed. She typed a couple things as Maggie started an IV on you.
“I’m gonna get some blood work on you and a CT. I’ll be back in a bit. Maggie, hang fluids and give her something for the pain and a mild sedative. Jay can take her home later if all turns out well, but I think the high BP might be a stress response.” Natalie rattled off, before giving my leg a squeeze and leaving Maggie to work.
“Jay is gonna have a cow.” I muttered to Maggie as the charge nurse started to put an IV in my arm.
“Moo.” Jay deadpanned, walking in with a serious face but playful look in his eyes.
“That was fast.” I muttered as Maggie laughed at his response.
“Hailey and I were already here to check on a Vic. I was upstairs.” Jay replied, coming to sit next to you as he took your hand. “Why didn’t you call me or tell me before I left? I know you didn’t sleep well.” Jay said, nodding a thanks to Maggie as she finished up and left the room.
“I didn’t want to bother you.” I muttered, looking down and picking at the blanket Maggie had put over me at some point.
Jay sighed, figuring this would be your answer. “Hey. Look at me.” Jay waited until you looked at him, tears in your eyes as guilt flooded your system. “Listen to me. You are my wife. My first priority. You matter more than this job or anything else. You hear me? You are NEVER bothering me.” Jay said, reaching up to wipe your tears.
You nodded, biting your bottom lip. Jay reached up, gently pulling your lip down with a thumb on your chin. “Just hate this.” You sighed, wiping at your eyes. “I wanna go back to work and put this behind me.” You were beginning to get sleepy. You knew the meds were starting to take effect.
Jay sighed too, standing up and telling you to bunch over. You did as he asked, allowing him to crawl onto the gurney with you and take you into his arms. “I know baby girl. I know.” Jay muttered, leaning up to kiss your head. “But you gotta let me take care of you. The more you relax and let me take the reigns, the faster you will heal up and be back in the bullpen with the rest of us.” Jay reassured, rubbing his hands up and down your arms.
“Nat gave me a sedative.” You muttered, leaning your head into Jay’s chest. You were already exhausted when you came in. These meds were gonna knock you out.
Jay nodded without needing an explanation and pulled you closer, being careful of the wires. He placed a hand in your hair as he pressed the bar to recline the bed back a little bit from his position. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to recline you a little more and make you more comfortable. “Alright. Well, you just let it work. Relax, okay? I’ll be right here.” Jay said, pulling the pony tail holder out of your hair and massaging your scalp.
You hummed in response, allowing your eyes to slip closed. You knew he was disappointed that you didn’t call, but he wasn’t going to press the issue now. You were in enough pain to come in and need a sedative for what he figured was anxiety, so he wasn’t going to add any more stress into your life. He would have time to talk to you later when you were feeling better. Your heart was in the right place, but you needed to let him take care of you. After all, he made a vow and he did not intend on breaking it.
#one chicago#jay halstead#one chicago x reader#fluff#jay halstead x reader#comfort#detective jay halstead#jay halstead imagine#jay halstead fluff
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jealousy jealousy || Changbin x Reader
Summary: It's as you're working with Changbin on a school project — and he's being as infuriating as he always is — that he invites you to go see 3racha perform in a bar that night. You decide to take the opportunity, because you do find the group talented, and also, what could possibly go wrong?
Word count: 4.3k
Genres: college AU, rapper!Changbin
Warnings & Tags: jealousy, academic rivals to lovers, alcohol consumption, brief sleazy behavior from someone else, consensual kiss while under the influence, light angst, oc has insecurities
series masterlist
A/N: Similarly to the I.N. oneshot, please ignore the thing about music if you know better and it doesn't make sense, my years of studying music theory are far behind me :') Hope you'll enjoy the piece, would appreciate to know your thoughts on it if you do!
If you had had your say on this assignment or on your choice for a partner, you wouldn’t be sitting there, across from Seo Changbin, in his fucking studio, watching him nod his head as he’s working on the arrangement you’re supposed to turn in next week.
“The guidelines say we’re supposed to use an unusual time signature,” you say, partly to be annoying and partly because he’s literally using 4/4, which, like, come on. It’s like he’s trying to go against the rules.
“They’re used for a reason,” he replies after a good thirty seconds of silence, which could be because he was ignoring you or because he can’t multitask. “It’s more important to turn in something that’s good than something that follows the guidelines.”
“That’s not mutually exclusive.”
“You can’t let others tell you what to do,” he insists, still looking at his screen. “You have to make your own decisions based on what’s good for—”
“It sounds like you just can’t take a challenge,” you interrupt him and this time, he turns around to glare at you. For a second, he looks offended, which was the reaction you were going for and, you have to say, it brings you an evil satisfaction. Then a corner of his lips lift and he smirks.
You really don’t like how attractive you find that look on him.
“You think that’s going to work on me?”
You grit your teeth. Well, rationale and logic weren’t getting you anywhere so far, so this was at least worth a try.
“I’m not looking forward to you tanking my grade,” you reply with a shrug, attempting, and probably failing, to look nonchalant.
This time he scoffs before going back to the computer.
“It’s not going to tank our grade. The teacher values quality more than following the rules, and even if he didn’t, you shouldn’t change yourself to make someone happy.”
Valuable life advice, you’re sure. It just does not apply whatsoever when a grade is at stake. Unfortunately though, he is right about this teacher valuing ‘quality’, though you don’t like how subjective his view of it appears to be. You think there should be metrics when it comes to grading your students. Either way, so far Changbin’s been fucking breezing through this class because the teacher just adores everything he puts out. You think it’s a gross display of favoritism and you suspect that it has a lot to do with 3racha’s popularity, but everyone’s too busy making heart eyes at the golden boy to think about it.
And, look, you like 3racha. You think they’re talented. You don’t know where Chan finds the time to do music while being captain of the swimming team and all the other stuff he’s doing — seriously, when does he sleep —, you think Jisung’s a very talented singer, rapper, producer — basically a one man group already without needing to add the other two in— and Changbin’s… Yeah. Changbin’s good. There’s no way you could deny that. That’s not the problem.
The problem is that it doesn’t seem to have crossed his mind that there are some people in here who don’t have a record deal lined up for them as soon as they walk out of their graduation. Some people who are not going to have full creative control over their stuff until they’ve really established themselves, if that ever happens. Some people who also just simply enjoy figuring out a way of making something interesting, something good in ways they wouldn’t have thought of if they hadn’t been forced to deal with an obstacle of some sort barring them from picking the easiest solution.
The problem is that, as you reluctantly have to admit, Changbin isn’t picking the easiest solution. In fact, once you notice what he’s doing, you can’t help but lean forward on your seat, all your attention on him and his hands moving on the keyboard. Shit. It seems, infuriatingly, that he had a point.
“What’d you think?” he asks once he’s done, and you blink yourself back to reality after having watched him work his magic.
“It’s smart,” you admit. You’re not the type to lie just because you have an issue with him. “Using tertiary rhythms in 4/4 to give the impression of another time signature… Yeah. It’s good.”
You can practically see his ego getting bigger with every word you say. Dammit, you almost wish he were a hack.
“But,” you add, a little too be annoying and a little because you have an actual point to make, “I think you should start off with binary rhythms.”
Changbin visibly deflates, then frowns, and you realize belatedly that you might have been able to push back on the use of the time signature then and there. You think he’d have given in, if you still didn’t like the end result, but that hadn’t even occurred to you.
“Why?” he asks, folding his — impressive — arms over his chest. “That’d be boring.”
You shake your head, pushing yourself up next to him and taking the mouse out of his hands to start making the changes that are clear as day in your mind. The gesture seems to outrage him, but if you’re being honest that’s actually a plus in your book, so, tough to be him.
“You start out with something familiar,” you explain as you’re working, “to lull the listener into a false sense of security. Then you hit them with the unusual to have a bigger impact and to make them wonder how the piece got there. That way, they’ll think they’ll know exactly what you’re going for from the start and be more surprised when you go for something else.”
There are a few seconds of silence after that, before Changbin also leans forward, his body suddenly much closer to yours.
“You have to work on the transition some more if you’re going for that,” he says, and his breath tickles your cheek. “’cause it’s just gonna feel jarring if you don’t.”
“I was getting to that,” you say with a click of your tongue, elbowing him in the stomach in an attempt to keep him from messing with your work. Through the first, soft layer, you come in contact with strong abs, which doesn’t surprise you considering how much time he’s rumored to spend at the gym.
Not that you’re paying attention to these rumors or anything. It’s just— Know your enemy, or something.
He does manage to use his muscles pretty easily to get the mouse back, and after an undignified shriek when he wraps an arm around your body to lift you up and get you away, you admit defeat. If your cheeks are warm now, it’s just because of the effort.
It’s also the reason your heart beats faster, and it’s got nothing to do with the satisfied grin Changbin shoots back at you once he’s back in front of the computer.
“Hey,” he says as he’s working, “you know 3racha’s having a concert tonight?”
Of course you do.
“I heard about it.”
“You should come. I can get you in.”
You raise an eyebrow. You’ve never actually seen 3racha perform. Tickets to their stuff aren’t that easy to get on campus or around i, and you’re also busy working your ass off most of the time, whether it’s for classes or at your part-time job. But you have tonight off, and considering this assignment is going nicely…
You bite your lower lip as you consider it. You’re not really looking forward to the screaming crowd looking at Changbin like he’s a god, but you are interested in the actual show. You’ve heard so much about them, and the stars aligning for a ticket offer and not having to work…
Ah, fuck it.
“Okay.”
Changbin’s head whips back in your direction.
“What?”
You take a step back, shoulders instinctively coming up to your ears. Your defenses come back up in a matter of seconds.
“If you don’t want me there, you shouldn’t have—”
“No, you should come!” he protests, and then his voice gets softer. “I’d be super happy if you came, I just didn’t think you’d be interested.”
“Of course I am,” you say with a shrug.
Changbin turns around towards the computer, but not before you catch a bright smile on his lips. Not his signature smirk. A bright, genuine smile.
And this time, you have no excuse when your heart skips a beat.
It doesn’t come off as a shock to you that 3racha are really fucking good on stage. You didn’t have any trouble getting into the bar after giving your name, which Changbin had told you would be enough. It had taken a little more, uh, elbow work to get reasonably close to the stage, because the place was already pretty filled up. The people there are almost all from the college, but there are a few groups of mostly young men — some looking like they’re too young to have been let in — that stick out as well.
You make yourself comfortable as you wait, sending the occasional glare at people pushing you. Lots of girls there, you note, and you don’t think they’re all there for the music, which you find amusing. You certainly don’t judge. That’s something that the people from the labels would have noted, and it’s not like there’s a wrong way of enjoying a group.
The crowd goes wild around you when Jisung — or rather J-One, his stage name — jumps on stage, practically vibrating with energy. You don’t really catch what he’s saying, both because it’s too loud and because he’s speaking too fast. You are, however, acutely aware of the way he presents himself, of his cocky grin, of the way he sticks his tongue out and wipes at his lower lip with his thumb.
He’s followed on stage by Changbin, who, unlike him, barely looks like he’s acting. Yeah, his stage persona is raw confidence, supercharged with charisma, but he doesn’t bother doing much of anything — though you think he’s flexing his muscles a little more than usual. Except, of course, when he gives the audience that fucking smirk of his.
And suddenly, you’re very, very aware of how hot it is in the room.
Chan’s the last one to get on, and he does so with a roar of “Are you ready?”. Everyone goes insane, and you find yourself being pushed around by the people around you jumping up and down. Though you’re not quite giving in just yet, you do enjoy the enthusiasm. If half of what you’ve heard about them is true, they certainly deserve the hype. Seeing the wide, uncontainable smile on Chan’s face at the crowd reaction, as he can’t keep up with his stage persona for a few seconds, just makes your heart swell.
Then, after getting the crowd even more riled up, they get started with their set. You’re familiar with all the songs, of course. Music is ideally going to become your job and you want to keep yourself updated, but also, you do find them to be good. Even the stuff that’s not to your personal taste is always backed up by an actual creative idea, which is not something you’d say about a lot of pop songs that get blasted on the radio every day. It makes their music feel new, and yeah, sometimes it means it’s not that easily accessible and it’s going to turn some people off, but it sure makes you respect their artistic integrity.
They’re also giving themselves on stage, 100%. And, because there’s just no point in denying it now, Changbin looks ridiculously fucking hot doing it. It makes all sorts of things tingle in your stomach and lower when he growls in the mic. You haven't been able to look away for a second.
Outside of the general hotness — you’re human, what can you say — you can’t help but appreciate everything else, everything musical. How easily he rides the beat, how music seems to inhabit his body, how skillfully he’s crafted the verses and choruses and made them feel— You’re not sure how to phrase it. They’re not predictable, but they are obvious. It feels like there would be no other way of doing them, no better way of phrasing them, no arrangement that would be more efficient. It has to be that way.
And it’s as they’re reaching the peak of their last song that dread washes over you, seeping straight to your bones.
You find Changbin annoying. You think he’s cocky, overconfident, and that he doesn’t pay enough attention to others. You also don’t like the way he gets everything handed to him on a silver platter and that, unlike you, he doesn’t have to split his time between work and college. But if you’re being honest, that’s not nearly enough of a reason to dislike him. The guy wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s always happy to help out, maybe even lets people take advantage a little bit. And he’s so, so fucking talented. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find all of that attractive.
The problem, as you’re staring at him on stage, is that the question that is truly at the center of it all, the one you’ve refused to ask yourself all this time as you kept working your ass off and he kept doing better than you, just came up to the surface, and you can’t avoid it any longer.
What if you just don’t have it?
Look, you believe in hard work, but you find it hard to deny that some people just have something else. Call it talent, call it luck, whatever. Changbin’s got it.
You’re not sure you do.
You just might keep working and working and working and never get to the level he’s at. You might just not have the thing that makes him able to come up with hooks that stay inside your head for days on end.
What’s been your dream job for almost a decade now might remain forever out of reach.
As the crowd erupts in cheers around you, and 3racha stay on the stage, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down their forehead, the future you’ve always wished for doesn’t quite shatter completely in front of your eyes, but it takes a nasty crack that ripples onto its entire surface.
You turn around, away from the stage. You hadn’t planned on that, but fuck it.
You need a drink.
Even as you down two drinks a little too quick and gesture for a third, you know this is a bad idea. You’re running straight into a wall, you’re going to regret this so much tomorrow, and you’re doing it anyway. This isn’t like you. You make the good decision, the right decision, you do what’s smart, what you should do.
Except apparently, none of that is enough, and that thought gets you to ingest the third drink as well, the burning taste of alcohol a welcome distraction.
“You can really knock these back,” a voice comments next to you.
You glance at the guy who’s already way too close in your personal space for a stranger. Normally, you would roll your eyes and you’d never even consider entertaining it. Who even hits on someone after they’ve seen them try their best to get intoxicated in as short an amount of time as possible?
Tonight though, his maths has paid off, because you welcome the distraction.
If you’re going to be making bad decisions, why stop at one, right?
You spin yourself towards him, rest your elbow on the counter and put your head on your hand in a pretty unnatural pose. You’re not quite coordinated — not usually, and certainly not with that amount of alcohol in your blood — but it doesn’t appear to throw him off.
“Sure can,” you say — it might come off slurred, you can’t tell, “but the question is, can you?”
He raises an eyebrow, but he looks amused. Honestly, he’s giving sleazy vibes, a little too happy to be running into someone trying to get wasted, you just— you just don’t give a fuck right now. You feel like you’ve watched the life slip forever out of your reach, and you just want to forget about it, forget about how you may never get a job and never live from what you want to do most in the world, forget about fucking Seo Changbin and how ridiculously talented he is when you’re— Yeah, you’re ordering another drink.
The guy offers to pay for you, and you’re not going to say no. He makes a dumb comment about it which you think is supposed to be a joke and you laugh way too hard, throwing your head back in a tried and tested move.
As you make painful small talk with him while waiting for your drink, you’re struck by how mediocre he seems to be. When you’re around Changbin, as annoying as he can be, the conversation’s just… brilliant. He’s interesting, he’s actually smart, he has stuff to say, and talking to him makes you feel, well, annoyed, sure, but it’s also challenging. He never bores you.
It’s been less than a minute, and you already wish that guy would shut up.
He doesn’t. He seems intent on smothering you with facts about his life that he probably believes to be impressive — his money, his job, his connections —, like you don’t know why he’s doing it. It’s almost insulting that he seems to believe that he’s seducing you with all of that fairly mundane stuff, when really, the attention you’re giving him has nothing to do with, well, him.
He’s moved on to putting his arm around your shoulders in the least subtle way known to man when you hear your name and you turn back around.
There’s Changbin, eyeing you and the guy, looking half pissed, half concerned.
“Oh, hey,” you say. “You were really good.”
His eyebrows knit, but then a smile that he can’t seem to hold back lifts a corner of his lips. It’s not arrogant for once, almost bashful actually.
“You thought so?”
So good that it gave you an existential crisis, so, yeah, you did.
“Yeah, you guys weren’t bad,” the dude behind you chimes in, and since you’ve got your back turned to him, you openly roll your eyes, which Changbin can’t miss. You doubt the guy knows shit about the time and efforts that had to go into that set, or into the writing of the song before even getting onto the stage, for that matter. “A bit derivative,” he adds, like an asshole, “but you might go on to do great stuff.”
There’s nothing bashful about Changbin’s smile now. He doesn’t look hurt or anything, but he seems to be thinking that the guy’s a real fucking moron.
“Thanks,” he says, sarcasm dripping in his voice which the dude doesn’t catch. Then his eyes fall on the glasses in front of you, and back to the hand on your shoulder. “Is that all yours?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m questioning my existence,” you reply with a shrug. “So that seemed like a good idea.”
Changbin looks confused for a second, but not completely deterred by your lack of coherence.
“’kay, then I think I should take you home.”
That’s objectively a good idea, and the more time you’re spending looking at him and talking to him, the less you want to keep talking to the other dude, actually.
“Hey,” the guy in question says from behind you, “I got there first. Find someone else, dude.”
Changbin’s eyes harden instantly and he takes a threatening step forward. He’s shorter than the man, but significantly larger. You just so happen to not be drunk enough to watch them fight. You blame your dad’s genes for making you somewhat good at handling your alcohol, because you wish you were hammered enough not to care right now. You push yourself on your feet, a bit unsteady, and put your hand on Changbin’s arm — totally to stop him and not at all to stop yourself from face planting. His muscles, you discover with some interest, are not just impressive but also extremely hard, perhaps because he’s prepared to fight.
“It’s good,” you say, “thanks for the drinks but he’s right, I need to get home.”
The man’s face contorts with anger.
“You can pay for your own drinks, you fucking—”
One of Changbin’s arms wrap around your waist, and then he takes a step forward, easily getting you out of the way while keeping you against him, to grab the man by the collar.
“Want to finish that sentence, asshole?”
If you were sober, you’d think something judgmental about men and aggressiveness. Right now, you mostly, uh, think it’s very very hot of him. Being pressed into his hard body makes your heart rate spike up, and in that state, it’s so hard to deny how attracted you are to him.
The guy backs down quickly, sputtering an apology, and then Changbin’s dragging you away, keeping his arm around you to ensure you stay on your feet.
“You okay?” he asks. His eyes scan your body, focusing back on your face when he finds nothing.
Alcohol has a tendency of making you even snappier than you usually are. Right now, though, hearing the genuine worry in his voice, you feel that part of you melting away.
“I’m good, Changbin. I think I just— I just need to get home.”
And though he’d be the last person you’d take help from if you were sober, he seems like the perfect pick at the moment.
You make it to the campus without too much trouble. It’s not like your legs don’t carry you anymore, just that you don’t walk quite straight, but Changbin doesn’t let go of you for one second of that walk, monitoring you the whole time, and then he insists on getting you back to your room as well. At least you live alone, because that is not something you’d like to have to explain.
“Did something happen?” Changbin asks, finally, as you’re making it up the steps, like he just can’t keep it in anymore. Your mind, which had been peacefully quiet this whole time, filled with his warmth and his presence, is flooded with noise again. It takes you a few long, painful seconds before you come up with something to say.
“Do you think I’m any good at this?” you ask just as you’re reaching your floor.
He shoots you a weird look.
“Good at what?”
Right, he wasn’t privy to everything that was going on in your mind.
“You know,” you say with a vague gesture. “Music. Producing. What we do.”
“Of course you’re good at it,” he scoffs like it’s the most obvious thing ever. “You’re super creative. You can follow all the stupid rules the teachers give us and still turn something good in. You think I’d let you work on my stuff in my studio if I didn’t think you were good?”
It’s his tone that gets to you, you think. Changbin’s honest to a fault, from what you’ve seen, but he says this so matter-of-factly, so casually, that it’s hard to question, even for just a second, that he doesn’t believe what he’s saying. You know it will take a moment to sink in, that Changbin has that kind of confidence in you when even you don’t, but, even if the thoughts will definitely come back later, it’s like he dispelled them all in just a few sentences.
It’s as you’re coming to a stop in front of your door that he almost jumps with realization.
“Wait a second. Did that fucker say—”
And then you kiss him. It’s not that hard, from the position you were in, to pivot into wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his, which you find to be soft and plump. He tenses for a second before his hand tightens on your waist and he kisses you back hungrily. If he can taste the alcohol on your lips, it doesn’t seem to bother him. His hand holds you close to him with almost bruising strength, but it remains chastely on your waist, his only movements coming from his lips and tongue.
His teeth graze against your lower lip, pulling on it, and it sends shivers through your whole body, but this is when you pull away from him. Despite his previous stillness, his head moves forward, chasing your lips for just a few seconds longer.
When you open your eyes, you find him panting, cheeks and ears a pronounced shade of red. It’s— extremely cute, if you’re being honest.
“Thank you for taking me home,” you say.
“Y—Yeah,” he says, glancing away when his voice cracks. “Yeah,” he repeats, “any time.”
“I’m gonna go to bed now,” you say, though you still haven’t taken your arms from around him.
“That’s good,” he says with a decisive nod. “’cause, you know, you’re drunk, and I wouldn’t wanna— You should go to bed.”
It makes you giggle, but you still decide give yourself a second more, during which you put your head on your shoulder, and Changbin just lets you, his hand rubbing circles on your back. When you still don’t move, he clears his throat.
“D’you want me to carry you?”
“Seriously?”
His response to that is to lift you up princess-style, one arm under your knees and the other under your back. He lets out a grunt as he lifts you, but then stabilizes himself and manages to get you through the door.
You know that you’ll have some things to seriously think about when you wake up with a throbbing headache, but in that moment, you just laugh and let him carry you to your bed, because having his arms around make you feel safe.
He makes you feel like you’re going to be okay.
Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard
#stray kids#changbin#seo changbin#changbin x reader#seo changbin x reader#stray kids imagine#skz#changbin imagine#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#skz imagine#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#changbin fanfic#candywrites
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Imagine #2: Confessing your love to them.
wordcount: 590
Love confession to your friend while he gets ready for a date
not beta-read
“You sure I look alright, sweetheart?” he asks, running his fingers through his hair again. “It’s been so long since I’ve been on a date.” He mumbles.
Instead of replying, you are contemplating your whole existence. You’ve been in love with him for as long as you’ve known him, and for a while you thought the feeling was mutual. But alas, you didn’t have the balls to confess, and he hasn’t done so either. So, here you are, giving the boy you loved with your whole heart advice for his date with another girl.
Being so lost in thought, you didn’t notice his confusion at your silence. He knew you’ve been having a little rough time lately, but you haven’t been yourself for a few days. For a second he contemplates if its because of his date, but he quickly dismisses that thought.
“You know, if you’re not feeling well you don’t have to stay here. Its late and I know that you usually like to go to bed early. I don’t want to keep you up. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.” He says earnestly.
You sigh softly, before looking up at him. He spots the pained look in your eyes and walks over to where you are sitting on his bed. Carefully, he cups your cheeks and looks at you with a gentle gaze.
“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sweetheart? You’ve been awfully quiet.” He asks softly, his thumb caressing your skin.
“I just…” you say hesitantly, looking into his mesmerizing eyes. “Are you sure you want to go on that date? She just… doesn’t seem like your type.”
“I don’t know, I just thought it was time for me to get out there you know. Is the date really what’s bothering you? Do you know her from something? Did she hurt you?” He asks, worried at the thought of someone hurting you.
“No not at all! She seems lovely.” You say hurriedly. “I guess I just always hoped… that I had a chance or something. I know its silly but…” You don’t finish your sentence immediately, trying to see his reaction, only to see him patiently waiting for you to finish. “I always hoped that at the end of the day it would be me you came home to, you know. That I’d be the one you kissed. And for a while I had hope that you felt the same, but I just got too insecure I guess.” You confess, closing your eyes as if to shield yourself from the possible rejection.
He lets out a soft chuckle, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You know, you have nothing to be insecure about sweetheart.” He says softly. “You are so incredibly kind, and creative. You are smart and helpful. You are beautiful and so incredibly fashionable.” He tells you with a cheeky grin as he tugs on the hello kitty sweatpants you are wearing. “You are everything a guy could want and much more. And I’ll be yours in a heartbeat, sweetheart. I just need you to say the words.” He confesses to you, looking into your eyes with a soft gaze.
“I am so incredibly in love with you. I have been forever and ever. Please let me be yours.” You tell him, almost begging.
“Took you long enough.” He teases, before connecting your lips in a soft kiss.
“I am so utterly in love with you too, sweetheart.” He mumbles, before continuing to press soft kisses to your lips.
#imagine#fluff#friends to lovers#mutual pining#marauders#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter#marvel#peter parker#loki laufeyson#bucky barnes#top gun maverick#bradley rooster bradshaw#amateur writer#writers on tumblr#x reader#harry potter#frank castle#spencer reid#criminal minds#slytherin boys#fem reader
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Slowly but Also Like All at Once
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7
noah diaz x mirage (they’re… y’know 💅)
warnings: mirage keeps flirting like an asshole and noah’s still in his feels but it gets tender
arcee shows up (and you know she should come with her own caution label)
“So, um…” Noah pauses for a second, to think on his words before he says them aloud. “You look good.”
He physically flinches away from his own words— from his own stupidity— and squeezes his eyes shut, not able to stop himself from reaching up with both hands to dig his knuckles into his eye sockets.
Fuckin’ idiot.
But Mirage just chuckles at his expense and Noah forces the embarrassment away with a deep breath.
“I meant like— you look… new,” he tries to correct, even though it still sounds wrong. “How’d that happen?”
“Oh, you mean how’d they get humpty dumpty back together again?” Mirage drawls.
Noah shifts in the sand, pulling away from Mirage’s side— where he’s been resting for a while now— and turns to sit cross-legged in the sand, staring up at the bot.
Mirage is looking up at the sky. The stars are starting to disappear behind dark clouds but the moon is still shining brightly over the water, its light reflecting off of Mirage’s silver face plating.
“Yeah,” Noah alludes, curiously.
Mirage glances down at him, frowning softly for a moment— such a quick little moment that Noah barely catches it— before he shrugs.
“OP spent like ten weeks in the Mojave looking for one of our medics who crash-landed there,” the mech reveals. “Ratchet. Dude’s usually such a buzzkill but… he’s good at what he does. I’ll give him that.”
Noah’s brows arch.
A medic? A new autobot?
“How many of you are there?” he asks before he can stop himself. “On Earth, I mean.”
One side of Mirage’s mouth tugs up into a sly smirk and Noah rolls his eyes before the bot can even reply.
“I told you already, boo, there’s none like me,” he declares pompously.
Noah reaches out and attempts to shove at Mirage’s thigh guard, uselessly because it does absolutely nothing.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Noah tells him. “You’re one of a kind.”
Mirage sits up, grinning.
“You better recognize!”
Noah barks out a short laugh.
“You a one of a kind dumbass,” he snickers softly.
Mirage reaches out to poke at his chest playfully and Noah tries to bat the digit away fruitlessly.
“Yeah, but you missed me,” the mech teases. “You already admitted it. No take backs.”
Noah doesn’t know why the words pull such a visceral reaction out of him, but they do. The happy smile drops from his face and he swallows drily.
“I did, man,” he concedes, fisting the material of his jeans in his hands. “I really fuckin’ did.”
Mirage moves so fast, it almost scares the shit out of Noah. The mech reaches out and suddenly Noah finds himself settled on top of the bot’s lap, pressed against his chest plates with one of Mirage’s servos cradling his back— well, the backpack strapped to his back anyway— whilst the other gently presses Noah’s face into the junction between his helm and his shoulderpad.
They’re… hugging?
Noah feels kind of frozen solid for a minute, unsure of what to do in this strange new situation. Sure, he’s been… inside— for lack of a better word— of Mirage before, in different modes of him too. And Noah doesn’t think either of them are strangers to physical proximity, after all they’d stuck pretty close to each other the whole time in Peru.
But this is something else. Something… more.
It’s nice though. Really nice.
So he relaxes into it.
It’s warm. And he can feel that same hum emanating from underneath the bot’s plating, like a low-frequency vibration that seems to soothe and calm something deep inside of Noah— he’s almost tempted to call it his soul, as corny as that fucking sounds.
Noah’s face feels more heated than usual.
“You a hugger, huh?” he mumbles, reaching up to run a few fingers against the glossy metal edge of that baseball cap-esque piece that rounds the back of Mirage’s helm.
This close, Mirage smells faintly of motor oil and something else Noah suspects must be alien in origin because he decides there’s no earthly scent he can compare it to. Not any that do it justice anyway.
Mirage’s digits move against the back of his head, digging into his curls as the mech’s chest plate’s rise and fall with a small stutter.
“For you?” he sighs. “Always.”
Noah’s eyes widen, his jaw clenching.
And his heart is fucking… fluttering. He really hopes his friend can’t feel it.
Something’s wrong. With him. Or with Mirage.
Noah doesn’t know what it is. But this is…
It is weird. Or, maybe not weird. Weird isn’t the right word for it.
“Mirage.”
Noah pulls away from the mech so fast, a yelp bursting out of him as he nearly tumbles off of the bot’s lap— he’s sure he would’ve gone sprawling into the sand between his friends’ outstretched legs had it not been for Mirage’s servos keeping him upright. He reaches out and grabs onto one of the bot’s gauntlets.
And before he can look away— to locate the source of the newcomer’s voice, a newcomer Noah is pretty sure is Arcee— he looks up at Mirage.
Oh.
Mirage’s face is doing… something. The mech’s optics are darker than usual— not glowing as bright a blue— and the silver metal just beneath his optics is tinged with a bluish hue, something Noah’s never seen it do before.
Noah doesn’t want to assume but it almost looks like a—
“Aww, Arcee, why you scarin’ my boy like that?” Mirage whines out, throwing his helm back like an unruly child who’s been told he has to eat all the vegetables on his plate. “His heart’s beating so fast!”
Okay, so Mirage can feel his heartbeat when they’re this close.
Wonderful.
Noah huffs— mortified but unwilling to admit it, even though his cheeks feel so flushed he probably looks like he could be doing an impression of a tomato— and reaches back to gently push away the servo Mirage has at his back.
“I wasn’t scared,” he grumbles, grunting as he steps down from Mirage’s lap and back onto the sand. “Jus’ surprised… that’s all.”
Arcee steps closer, smiling softly as she glances between them for a moment.
“Sorry, Noah,” she has the decency to apologize. “I really didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Noah waves her apology off.
“Nah, seriously,” he stresses, reaching up to grab onto the straps of his backpack. “I wasn’t scared or nothin’.”
Yeah, he kind of was. But he was mostly embarrassed.
Was it normal for cybertronians to hug humans? To hold humans the way Mirage was holding him?
Arcee isn’t giving him any indication. So maybe it’s not as big of a deal as it feels to Noah.
The femme fixes her gaze on Mirage, one optical ridge arching as both servos rest at her skirt plates. Her lower body cocking to one side as she watches the blue and silver bot rise off of the ground, raining sand down all over Noah who groans and steps away, reaching up to sweep it off of his head.
He’s definitely going to need a good, long shower later to get all that sand out of his curls.
“I said I’d cover for you for a couple of hours, Mirage,” Arcee points out, then mimics glancing down at a watch on her gauntlet in a very human-like way. “It’s been six.”
Noah’s eyes widen, glancing down at his own watch quickly.
Six hours? Oh, he definitely missed dinner. His ma’s gonna kill him.
It’s nearing sunrise already.
“It’s time,” Arcee emphasizes. "Optimus will not be pleased."
A sharp wave of what can only be panic rushes through Noah. It’s so quick, engulfing him from head to toe. He feels exactly the same way he’d felt when he’d had to stand there and watch Mirage be taken away. He thinks he makes some kind of tiny strangled noise.
The overwhelming sensation leaves him blanched and breathless.
“Arcee!” Mirage chastises, dropping to one knee beside Noah. “You’re not helping.”
Noah feels a couple of his friend’s digits slip underneath his chin and he lets the mech tenderly lift his face so he’s looking up into Mirage’s now bright blue optics.
“W-what is she talkin’ about?” he manages to squeak out, despite the dread that feels like it’s got a physical hold of his heart in his chest.
“It's nothing bad!” Mirage swears, holding his other servo up, palm out. “I promise.”
Noah swallows the lump in his throat and exhales shakily.
“Okay,” he yields. “Okay, sorry.”
He feels kind of stupid about his reaction, childish, and pulls his chin away from the mech's digits. But he doesn’t look away.
Mirage gives him a look that Noah thinks translates as sheepish, before he stands, optics flickering about for a moment like he’s struggling to make himself meet Noah’s unwavering gaze.
“Okay, so, uh,” Mirage stammers, reaching up to rub at the back of his helm with one slightly twitchy servo. “Well, you see, what had happened was—”
Arcee huffs.
“Ratchet has yet to give him the all clear so Optimus expressly forbid him from leaving," she reveals. "So of course he snuck out of the medbay without permission to come see you tonight, Noah.”
Oh. Yeah, sure.
Noah’s heart doesn’t feel like it’s swelling with joy and about to burst out of his chest or anything.
He’s totally like… chill about it.
#noah x mirage#norage#noah diaz#mirage#mirage rotb#transformers rise of the beasts#transformers rotb#mirage x noah
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Hello again! (I’m the anon who requested the Princess wanting to marry XH reaction.)
I listen to many groups and read fluffy fanfics a lot lol, and I’ve always been drawn to ones where the member accidentally confesses to his crush, (either face to face, texting wrong person, or crush walking in on conversation the member is having with another member about crush) and (sadly) there isn’t a lot of XH content here.
So I was wondering if you could write how XH would react if they accidentally confessed to their crush?
Hello nice to hear from you again anon :)
All members {= + _ + =}
Summary: Xdinary Heroes reaction to accidentally confessing to you, their crush.
WC:~2k
Warning:grammar
photo not mine credits to owner.
Gunil
Currently you’re regretting your life decisions. You were dumb enough to let Gunil convince you into going to the gym with him. Your muscles were burning. Your skin was covered in a layer of sweat. Dropping to the floor you collapsed in exhaustion after finishing the latest set of squats.
“Gunil no more or else I’m gonna die,” you heaved out through heavy breaths. Gunil laughs at you in your state of misery.
“Come on, you can do one more set,” he says, reaching out his hands towards you. Only for you to smack it away in protest.
“No, my legs feel like jello. You do one more set, I’ll stay here,” you flopped backwards to lay on your back.
“You’re so adorable. How can I not like you?” Gunil slips.
“What?” You questioned, sitting up on your arms.
“Uh I- nothing! You just lay back down while I do one last set,” he stuttered, dismissing you. He begins to exercise again, but you get up from the floor stopping him.
“Gunil, say that again,” you order him.
“Lay back down while I do one more set,” he repeated with a smile, nervously gesturing to the floor.
“The other sentence. You know what I’m talking about,” you said, folding your arms. Gunil looks down at his feet before looking back up to meet your eyes.
“How can I not like you?” He repeated. A smile graces your lips as you unfold your arms to hold Gunil’s.
“I like you too,” you confessed. Gunil’s eyes lit up, his hands moved to hold yours.
“Really you do?” He asks. His eyes shone bright like the stars.
“Yes, unless you make me do another set. Then no,” you stated. Gunil laughs.
“Let’s go home,” he says. His gym bag occupies one of his hands and your hand occupies the other as the two of you walk out of the gym.
Jungsu
Reaching up your curled up hand you were about to knock on the door to Xdinary Heroes dorm when you heard a sentence that stopped you in your tracks.
“Have fun on your date with y/n,” Jiseok said. His voice was a bit muffled by the door, but you still heard it.
“It’s not a date. We’re just hanging out,” Jungsu corrected him. You leaned in closer to the door to try and hear better. Yes, you were eavesdropping, but the topic involved you, so you had the right to know right?
“You wish it was a date,” Jiseok sassed. Wish it was a date? Did Jungsu like you?
“Yes, I wish it was a date, but I need to confess to her for that to happen and I don’t know how,” Jungsu says. Well he just did, ironically, only he doesn’t know that.
You brought your hand up to the door again and knocked this time. The door opened moments later revealing Jungsu.
“Hey,” he greets you.
“Hi,” you greeted him back with a smile. “Are you ready?” You asked him.
“Yeah, let's go,” he replies, stepping out of the dorm and shutting the door behind him. The two of you exit the building and you wonder if you should tell Jungsu about what you heard.
“Jungsu,” you decided to do it.
“Yeah?” He says.
“I want this to be a date too,” you declared. Jungsu paused in his tracts, making you stop too.
“Y-you want this to be a date too,” he reiterated your words in shock.
“I’m sorry, I overheard what you said Jiseok when I was outside of the door,” you apologized. A blush paints its way onto Jungsu’s cheeks as he thinks about you hearing what he said about confessing to you.
“If you want this to be a date too then that means you like me back?” Jungsu questions hopefully.
“Yes, Jungsu I like you too,” you tell him and with that you two went on your first date.
Gaon/Jiseok
You were on your way back to your apartment when you ran into Jiseok.
“Hey Jiseok,” you greeted him.
“Hey y/n, didn’t expect to run into you,” he says with a happy smile.
“Yeah I’m just on my way back home,” you told him.
“I lost paper, rock, scissors and have to do the convenience store run,” Jiseok shook his head. He was annoyed when he lost, but now he’s more than glad since it resulted in him seeing you.
“You should get better at that game,” you joked.
“Tell me about it,” he grumbled.
“Well don’t let me keep you. It was nice seeing you though we should get together sometime,” you suggested.
“Definitely, I’ll text you later,” he agreed.
“You better,” you tell, pointing a finger at him, playfully threatening him. You gave each other one last goodbye before going your separate ways.
Just after you shut the door to your apartment your phone went off. It was a text notification from Jiseok. That was fast you thought, opening the message. A couple other messages rapidly appeared before you could even read, let alone respond to the first one.
“Bro guess what!!” The first one read. “I JUST RAN INTO Y/N!” The second one read. “She said that we should get together sometime, can you believe it!?” “Also when I said that I’d text her she said I BETTER!” “Do you think she likes me back?” The rest of his text read. You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation.
“I think she does like you back,” you texted. “You should also check who you’re texting Jiseok,” you followed your previous text with.
Jiseok feels like he might die from embarrassment once he realizes that he’s been texting you this whole time. Then he realizes that you basically said that you like him back. He’s still embarrassed, but responds back with “We should plan our date then :)”.
O.de/Seungmin
Seungmin’s and your shoulders kept brushing as you walked side by side. You were currently at a market strolling around, checking out the different stalls.
“Ooh look at these bracelets,” you tugged Seungmin along with you as some beautiful hand beaded bracelets caught your eye. You look at the bracelets adorning the table. “I like this one,” you said, picking up a bracelet that was beaded with your favorite color.
“I’ll get it for you,” Seungmin tells you, taking the bracelet from your hands. Before you have any time to protest he was already purchasing it from the stall lady.
“Tell you what. I’ll give you and your girlfriend a two for one, so you can match,” the kind stall lady says, picking up a bracelet that matched yours. It’s not the first time you and Seungmin have been mistaken as a couple, but it always makes your heart flutter whenever it happens. Seungmin thanks the lady for her kindness.
“Give me your wrist,” he tells you. You lift your wrist up and he slides the bracelet on.
“Your turn,” you say, taking the other bracelet from him. Seungmin smiles slightly, holding out his wrist to you. You slid the bracelet into place. “There, our own matching couple bracelets,” you said, holding your bracelet adorned wrist next to his.
“I wish we were actually a couple,” Seungmin remarked, taking you by surprise. You turned to face him wide eyed and Seungmin realized that he said that out loud and not in his head.
“I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” he spoke awkwardly. “It’s true though,” he owned up. “This isn’t how I wanted to confess either,” he chucked. “I like you y/n. I want us to be a real couple, not friends who get mistaken for a couple,” he declares. Your heart is fluttering again for a different reason now.
“I want that too,” you confessed. “Let’s be a couple,” you said. Seungmin is more than happy to agree.
Junhan/Hyeongjun
Hyeongjun and you have been friends for a long time and Hyeongjun had been harboring his crush on you for just about as long as you’ve been friends. He’s too scared to confess. He is worried that you will reject him and that your friendship will be ruined. He wishes that he had the gut to confess too though because he wants to be with you, in a more than friends way. His members say that he is a coward and ridiculous. That there is no way you don’t feel the same way about him. You two are both cowards dancing around your feelings for one another.
“Hyeongjun, I’m tired of watching you pine over y/n. Seriously you have heart eyes whenever you look at her just confess!” Hyeongjun reads the text he received from Jooyeon. He whips his head around to see Jooyeon sitting at the end of the couch, observing you and Hyeongjun from where you two are baking in the kitchen. Jooyeon gives him a look and Hyeongjun mouths at him to go away.
“Can you pass me the measuring cup please?” You asked, sending Hyeongjun’s attention back to you.
“Here you go,” he says, handing you the measuring cup.
“Thanks,” you tell him, taking the measuring cup. Leaving Hyeongjun staring at you lovestruck. His phone goes off with another text from Jooyeon. “You’d give her the moon if she asked wouldn’t you?” He looks back at where Jooyeon sits, sending him a glare. He begins typing his response.
“Yes, I’d give her the moon if she asked because she deserves it. I already gave her my heart and I’d give her anything else she could ever ask for,” he hits send. In a moment the color drains from his face as your phone goes off with a text notification. Hyeongjun looks at his messages and to his horror he sent that text to you instead of Jooyeon.
“I already gave my heart to you too,” you say, looking at Hyeongjun.
Hyeongjun was worried for nothing and now his members are free from his pining.
Jooyeon
“Jooyeon just confess,” the sentence immediately catches your attention. Jooyeon liked someone? You were supposed to be helping Seungmin with song lyrics, but that somehow ended up with you napping on the couch in the little studio room instead.
“Seungmin you can’t talk like that, she's literally three feet away!” Jooyeon scolded in a quiet whisper. Wait, does that mean it’s you he likes? You keep your eyes shut and continue to listen to the conversation. This is probably wrong. You should just let them know that you’re awake. You could even act like you just woke up right then,but no you keep fake sleeping.
“She’s passed out. She won’t hear any of this,” Seungmin states. If you were actually sleeping he’d be right.
“I can’t just confess though. I can’t just randomly go up to her and say ‘Hey y/n I like you,’ that'd be weird,” Jooyeon defended. You just got your confirmation, Jooyeon likes you.
“I think that might work better than you think,” you made your presence known, sitting up on the couch. Both of them looked over at you surprised.
“How much of that did you hear?” Jooyeon asked, turning red.
“From ‘Jooyeon just confess’,” you put up quotation marks with your fingers.
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Seungmin said, getting up from his chair and exiting the studio.
“Jooyeon, come here,” you patted the space next to you on the couch. Jooyeon slowly made his way over. “Is there something you want to tell me?” You asked.
“You clearly already know,” he murmured, still embarrassed.
“And you know that I’ll accept, so tell me,” you prompted.
“Hey y/n, I like you,” he said, making you laugh at his reuse of words.
“Hey Jooyeon, I like you too,” you mimicked.
“So,” he reached for your hand. “Want to go out on a date later?” He asks, linking your fingers together.
“Can’t wait,” you said, squeezing his hand.
#xdinary heroes#xdh#xdh imagines#xdh x reader#xdinary heroes imagines#xdinary heroes x reader#xh gunil#xh jungsu#xh gaon#xh jiseok#xh o.de#xh ode#xh seungmin#xh junhan#xh hyeongjun#xh jooyeon#gunil x reader#goo gunil#koo gunil#jungsu x reader#kim jungsu#jungsu#gunil#gaon x reader#jiseok x reader#kwak jiseok#gaon#jiseok#o.de x reader#oh seungmin x reader
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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 ao3
Steve is the one to re-discover the tapes when they’re packing up, left in a haphazard pile on the bedside cabinet. There’s a clack of plastic against wood, and Eddie glances over to see that Steve, in reaching for his file, has scattered the cassettes, made them furl out like a fan on the cabinet.
“Oh,” Steve says. He just looks at the tapes for a couple of seconds. Blinks. “Are these Robin’s?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie doesn’t ask how he knows that—he gets the picture that when it comes to Steve and Robin, there’ll always be an implicit understanding between them.
Steve grabs a pen, winds back any of the tapes that need it, those stopped either just before or just after My Little Town.
What made it yours? Eddie doesn’t ask. Why that one?
He thinks of when he first heard the song, that ghostly, unreal feeling; the hope at Steve’s minute reaction to the sound. Not knowing what to do with the loneliness he heard in it.
“Here’s yours,” Eddie says, reaching over. His fingers drum over the cassette holder, indicating the worn sleeve; when he says, “Guessing this one’s well-loved, huh?”, it’s not supposed to mean anything, really. Just something light enough for Steve to smile at.
But Steve doesn’t reply for a moment. He turns the tape over and over in his hands, like he’s looking at some distant artefact instead of something that belongs to him. Then his shoulder raises in a half-shrug; his face does something too complicated and quick for Eddie to catch. Something between a smile and a wince—not quite one or the other.
“It was my mom’s first,” Steve says.
-
Robin arrives like a whirlwind as Steve’s getting discharged—if a whirlwind can be an at all reassuring presence, which right now is absolutely the case.
“Hey, look who’s decided to come crawling back,” Steve says when he sees her, grinning.
She slaps him on the shoulder. “Stop, Steve, Dad’s been a total—”
“Yeah, yeah, I—”
“—nightmare and, yeah, I get it, coming back home from a lovely Spring Break—”
“Rob, I was kidding!”
“—to find that oh, there’s kinda been a, uh, cataclysmic event might make anyone a teensy bit uneasy—”
“Holy shit.”
“—but, seriously, I was practically on house arrest! He only let me go ‘cause it’s you, and he thinks the sun shines out your—”
“Aw,” Steve says, sugary sweet, “told you I’m good with parents.”
“Gross,” Robin fires back. “Absolutely disgusting, never speak to me again.”
“Can we go already? Wayne needs the car back some time this year,” Eddie says.
But his annoyance is transparently fake: the whole time Robin and Steve have been talking, they’ve all pretty much seamlessly crossed the parking lot—the self-conscious air that had been following Steve around as he used his crutches vanishing completely in the face of Robin’s banter.
Steve and Robin sit in the back, Robin taking the crutches and basically contorting her body around them so Steve can get more space.
“Radio on, Eddie!” Robin says, then imperiously calls out the frequency. “Make it snappy.”
“Demanding, isn’t she?” Steve says, and when Eddie looks over his shoulder at him, Steve winks.
“If Her Majesty decrees it,” Eddie says.
He turns the radio on, fiddles with the dial until he reaches the right station—can feel Robin drumming the back of the driver’s seat in anticipation.
“Yeah, this one!”
They tune in just in time to hear the first chorus of Material Girl.
Steve starts to giggle. “R-Robin did you phone in and ask—”
“You can prove nothing. Maybe the stars aligned and thought, hey, we might as well—”
“Sure.”
“—because the universe was so impressed by the Harrington choreography—”
“Ugh, shut up.”
“Fucking children,” Eddie says through a smirk, and as he pulls out of the parking lot, he glances up to the mirror, catches Robin and Steve dissolving into twin peals of laughter.
-
Steve’s house is full, and it makes the whole space feel different; where previously the high ceilings would make every little sound echo within the emptiness, now it’s full of noise rebounding—there’s constant movement, people coming and going, the kids barging their way around the kitchen and living room, or lounging in the hallway. It all makes the house seem smaller. Warmer.
By some sort of unspoken agreement, no-one crowds Steve, and the clamour means that his arrival doesn’t draw undue attention, means that he can just slip through the front door and take as long as he needs. Eddie can see that he’s grateful for it, sees him take a deep breath of relief as he crosses the threshold.
Hopper’s in the kitchen on a flying visit; he stays long enough to show Steve that there’s casserole in the freezer, claps him on the shoulder, then heads off with a muttered, “Gotta… damn paperwork,” which Eddie suspects is either a lie, or a complete understatement. Or both.
Steve surveys the contents of the freezer, smiles at a box of Eggos, then fully laughs when he pries open a tub of ice-cream and finds a sizeable dent in it—shakes his head and says fondly, “Erica.”
Robin shepherds them both to the TV, gently but firmly insists that Steve take up one couch to himself, his leg elevated on cushions. Eddie and Robin sprawl together on the other couch, but then Robin’s scrabbling upright, crawling to a cabinet that houses VHS tapes—and there’s the collection, multiple rows of movie musicals.
“Oh, Steve, Steve, this one first, please.”
She turns back with a copy of Oliver! in her hands.
“Yeah, whatever,” Steve says—and it’s not dismissive. Eddie gets the impression that Robin could’ve said any movie in the world and Steve wouldn’t have cared, so long as he had her company.
Robin gasps in mock affront. “Um, excuse me, Shani Wallis’s performance as Nancy is not whatever.”
Steve groans, looks up at the ceiling. “Why do I feel like there’s history there?”
“Uh, Drama Club did it one year, right?” Eddie asks. He vaguely remembers being roped in to paint sets, never wanting to look at cobblestones ever again.
“Yeah,” Robin sighs dreamily. “I tried for Nancy.”
“Really? That’s cool,” Steve says. “Did you get it?”
Robin hesitates. “Nope.”
“Damn. Who did?”
“Um, can’t remember,” Robin says too quickly.
Eddie frowns in thought. “Wasn’t it…? Oh, yeah!” He clicks his fingers. “It was Tammy Thompson.”
And for some reason, this makes Steve cackle. Robin throws a pillow at him, which doesn’t land anywhere near his cast, but Steve groans like he’s received a fatal hit.
“Man down, man down!”
The movie mostly passes with stupid back-and-forths like that. Robin pauses at multiple points to enthuse about Nancy’s red dress and how gorgeous it is, in a tone of voice that means she isn’t just talking about the dress; and the way Steve responds with a soft smile somehow makes Eddie think that he, too, understands what she’s really saying, which… huh.
Steve soon creates a running joke which consists of pointing at any random extra in the movie, gasping and exclaiming, “Eddie, I didn’t know you were in this!”
“You’re not fucking funny, Harrington,” Eddie says. Any snark he might’ve once held is completely ruined by the grin that, without fail, appears on his face every damn time Steve makes the joke.
When the credits roll, Eddie gets up to put on another movie—finds Grease and makes a passing quip about Steve’s hair again.
When he’s getting the tape out, he hears a soft movement, turns back to find Robin’s slid off her couch to sit by Steve’s, grabs onto his wrist suddenly.
Steve sighs. Smiles, a kind of sad edge to the corners. “I’m… I’m sorry, Robin.”
“Shut up,” Robin says quietly. “Not accepted ‘cause it’s not needed, okay?”
“Okay,” Steve says eventually. As the opening number begins, he adds in an undertone, squeezing Robin’s hand, “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Robin whispers back.
Eddie keeps quiet, going back to his seat and giving them space. He knows it’s fine to joke again when Robin announces suddenly, “Hey, we’re leaving Eddie out!” And she blows him an air kiss with a delightfully obnoxious mwah.
Eddie mimes catching it and throwing it over his shoulder nonchalantly. Robin gasps again.
When Steve snorts, Eddie pats his jeans pocket with a comically wide-eyed look, like how did it end up in there? Blows the kiss back and winks—ostensibly to the pair of them.
But he knows that’s not entirely true.
-
As dusk approaches, Eddie waits outside with Robin for her ride home to materialise—she’d asked him to go with her, and he agreed without knowing the reason behind the request.
But now he’s starting to regret it as he sees the glow of headlights approach the driveway. He hurriedly gives Robin her tapes, then steps back reflexively into the shadows.
“Hey, Eddie?” Robin says. “You know, my parents… they didn’t see the news before they came back.”
Eddie can’t help it; he raises an eyebrow dubiously. “They’ll have seen some of it by now, Buckley.”
She shrugs. “I mean, yeah. But I also… they got, like, an edited version of… events. From me.”
“Edited,” Eddie echoes faintly.
Robin nods. “Super edited. I told them… they know the important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That you’re innocent,” Robin says, low and serious.
Eddie takes another step back. “And I’m sure they believed you.”
“They did, actually,” Robin says, meeting his gaze head-on. “It’s not like I gave them a choice.”
“…What?”
“Well, I… might’ve said that if they accepted any of the rumours about you, then I’d walk out. Permanently.”
Eddie stares at her. “Wh—why would you—”
“You’re my friend,” Robin says emphatically.
Eddie’s spared from answering by the sound of a car horn. He flinches.
But when Robin looks over to the car, she doesn’t look worried—instead, she claps a hand to her forehead, gripping her tapes with the other.
“Shoot, I forgot—stay right there.”
She runs over to the car, opens the passenger door one-handed and dumps the tapes. Eddie squints in the glare of the headlights, makes out what must be Robin’s mom in the driver’s seat. They have the same nose.
And then Robin’s running back, a gift bag swinging from her hands. As she gets closer, he sees that the bag is adorned with Happy Birthday written in looping purple and pink font.
“Sorry, it’s—the store only had the one kinda bag, and—if you hate them, it’s fine, I just thought, for when you and your uncle get a new place…”
There’s two mugs in the gift bag, with the most awful neon polka dots. Eddie adores them.
He hugs Robin in reply, and she must get that words are hard, because she pats his back a couple of times, then just holds him.
When the car pulls away, she waves enthusiastically—and he spots when her mom mirrors her wave, just for a moment.
He stands there alone, pretends like he’s not crying on Steve Harrington’s driveway.
-
He puts the gift bag on the counter, finds Steve swallowing his night-time pills with some water. It’s just the two of them now—or at least, it is for five minutes, until they hear the front door opening.
“I’m staying over!” Dustin bellows.
Steve rolls his eyes. “You gotta stop breaking and entering, dude.”
“Not breaking and entering when I use the spare key, Steve.”
“Hey, you’re off your crutches!” Eddie says as Dustin walks into view—there’s only a little bit of hesitancy to his gait now.
“Yeah, we swapped,” Steve says. He yawns, settles back on the couch and nods at Dustin. “You know where the blankets are, right?”
Dustin nods. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Think the guest bedroom’s made up if—”
“I was just gonna sleep down here,” Dustin says—and Eddie can tell from the studiously casual way he says it, that he just doesn’t want to be too far away from Steve.
Steve nods like he’s only half-heard him, tries to hide a yawn behind the back of his hand. “Sure, knock yourself out.”
It’s not that late, so they put on another movie musical, Eddie running a finger down the titles until Steve randomly says, “Stop.”
Dustin gets full use of the second couch after Eddie’s insistence on the matter; he might be off crutches, but Eddie reasons that the kid should stretch his legs out, at least.
Besides, the floor’s comfortable enough, even more so when Eddie leans his back against Steve’s couch, feels the warmth of his body heat.
They’ve hardly started the movie, Dick Van Dyke singing about, “Someone to strive for, do or die for,” when Eddie feels Steve’s hand clumsily graze his shoulder.
He turns. “All good?” he asks, keeps his voice low—Dustin doesn’t seem to hear.
“Yeah, just feel…” Steve sniffs, rubs at his face. “Kinda… heavy.”
Eddie watches over him sympathetically, thinks of Steve admitting, “It messed with me for a while, after. There was—that winter, I had to get a tooth taken out, and I didn’t want them to use numbing, because it felt a bit like…”
“You’re okay,” Eddie says gently. “It’s just the meds.” He lifts Steve’s hand, guides him until Steve is loosely holding onto Eddie’s wrist. “See? You’re right here. Not going anywhere.”
Steve breathes in deep. Exhales. “Think ‘m… m’sleepy.”
“S’all good,” Eddie says. “I got you.”
He doesn’t notice that Dustin’s looking over at them until Steve’s head tilts into the inside of the couch, fingers slack but warm around Eddie’s wrist.
“What?” Eddie mouths.
Dustin shrugs. “Glad you’re here,” he says eventually, then returns his attention to the movie.
#the self sacrificial steve agenda#steddie fic#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#robin buckley#steve and robin#eddie and robin
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“Don't you ever get tired, boss?” You ask, peering over Unknown's shoulder at his screen.
He turns around to scowl at you. Yes, of course he gets fucking tired. That's by no means something he's proud of, and it's by no means something he wants to hear you prattling on about. Unknown has discovered that he likes having you around— it's nice to have someone to talk to, and even better that you're usually able to entertain him, at least to some degree— but he could do without the constant questions. You always want to know what he's working on (which is classified), what you can do to help (nothing whatsoever, unless you're sitting on a bunch of useful skills that have somehow managed to escape Unknown’s notice thus far), and, worst of all, how he's feeling (which is none of your goddamn business, actually). Unknown has no interest in anything even remotely resembling a conversation about emotions with you, let alone one about his physical state.
“Hm,” he says eventually, not caring how you interpret the sound. It's none of his business how you interpret things, at least as long as you're keeping those interpretations to yourself and staying out of trouble.
“Then you should sleep,” you suggest, “I'm sure that it'll help you work better.”
“Oh, is that so?” Unknown hums, still not looking up from his screen— truth be told, he's barely listening to you. He couldn't care less what you think about his methods, though that certainly doesn't stop you from peppering him with moral qualms and concerns about his health under these working conditions— as if Unknown has any control over that, anyway. Why do you want to make him feel so powerless? Can't you just stay securely under his thumb and let him go about his business?
“Yeah,” you reply, “It is. If you're tired, you should sleep. That’s kind of, like, basic knowledge 101, you know?”
“I can't sleep, prince(ss),” Unknown grits out. He’s annoyed that this is even a discussion.
“Oh, you mean you can’t fall asleep?” You ask, probably trying to be helpful. Normally, Unknown wouldn't give a shit about anybody's intentions but his own or his Savior's... however, lately, he's begun to pick up on the fact that people can mean very well while somehow managing to remain insufferably annoying. He wouldn't have thought that this combination was possible until he met you— you should be proud of yourself, Unknown supposes, though not too proud— that would be a bit much. “Then that might be because of all the monitors. Maybe you’d be able to rest better if you turned a couple of them off.”
“No,” he growls before you can give him another useless suggestion. Just because Unknown understands your motivations doesn't mean he's going to entertain any more nonsense from you. After all, he's your boss, not your friend— and honestly, boss isn't the term he originally would have selected, but it would be too much of a hassle to change anything now that you seem married to the idea. “I can't sleep unless that redhead sleeps, get it? He’ll attack and undo all my progress while I’m wasting time in dreamland.” And if that redhead is sleeping, then Unknown isn't going to sleep, either, because it'll give him an opportunity to get a leg up. If he rests only when his exhaustible body forces him to do so, then eventually, he’ll arrive at his revenge.
“Well, if you're not sleeping, I'm not sleeping,” you declare, “And if you think I'm annoying now, you're just gonna love me when I'm sleep deprived.”
Unknown rolls his eyes at your sheer audacity. “Aw, do you think you're being clever?” He coos. “You can't control me that easily, assistant.” Lately, Unknown has gotten into the habit of calling you by your title as if it were a pet name of some kind. He likes the reaction that it gets from you, though he doesn’t understand it— if you’re so proud to be his assistant, then why do you constantly question him? Can’t you just leave well enough alone?
“I’m just showing you how ridiculous and stubborn you’re being, boss. What are you gonna do about it?” You ask.
You’re challenging him, trusting that he’ll humor you as you test him in a vain attempt to prove a really useless point. Unknown isn’t sure why you couldn’t have applied this determination to chatting with the RFA, or at least going into that apartment. Maybe you would have been happier there, with people who would accept and embrace your affection and concern. But there’s no point in thinking about that now— you’re stuck with Unknown, and for all intents and purposes, he is equally stuck with you.
Unknown just rolls his eyes at you again. Honestly, maybe he is starting to get tired, if you've managed to get under his skin so easily— but it doesn't matter whether he's tired or not. Unknown will get his work done regardless of his physical condition, and you should get that through your head as soon as possible. “You're gonna go lay down on the couch and shut your mouth,” he intones, “Or else I'll send you to your room, and you can stay there alone. How does that sound, cutie?”
Even if you insist on staying awake to prove some useless point to him, eventually, you’ll drift off if you’re laying there not doing anything. That way, Unknown won’t have to worry about you while he’s working— of course, he isn’t at all concerned with your well being, he reminds himself. He just doesn’t want to have to waste time thinking about what kind of trouble you might be causing behind the scenes.
“Wow, so cruel,” you pretend to lament with a pouting expression as you throw yourself onto the couch. You’re just joking, of course— you don’t actually think that about him. If you did, you wouldn't be able to say it so flippantly. You’re convinced that he’s a good person somewhere deep down, but Unknown might very well be cruel— no, scratch that. He knows for a fact that he's a bad guy to his core, a monster in every sense of the word. Unknown is by no means a nice person, but he knows how to get what he wants. That’s got to count for something, right? “But just promise me you’ll rest eventually, okay?” Your concern is evident in your voice, even if you try to hide it behind that playful tone.
“Mhm. Maybe I’ll be able to rest when my assistant isn’t causing me so many problems,” he hums. It’s best to just humor you, to keep you from wasting time worrying when you could be helping Unknown with his revenge. Besides, he’s not even really lying— he’ll have to sleep eventually. No matter how many times he pushes his body to its limits, it never seems to get any stronger or better at staying awake when he needs it to. “But if you want to stay with me, then you should start being quiet now.”
You don't respond, and for his part, Unknown counts it as a win.
#I've been thinking a lot lately about Unknown's relationship with rest#And how profoundly difficult it would be to convince him to take care of himself at all#mystic messenger#mystic messenger drabble#choi saeran#saeran choi#unknown mystic messenger
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homosexual.txt
(yes that is what I named the google doc I wrote this in)
Reblogs greatly appreciated!
AO3 Link
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
“So, like… what’s your name?”
A question Wes expects, but always dreads.
It glances up from his notebook at the man sitting opposite to it for a brief moment, squinting at his face to get a gauge for their emotions. The dishevelled, somewhat awkward seeming man appears to glance away the second their gaze meets, though Wes can’t really tell from the mop of long, curly brown hair that covers his eyes. Wes doesn’t blame them, though, it isn’t like it was ever one to enjoy eye contact either.
Besides, he can still read the stranger’s emotions just fine. It isn’t hard to pick up on his anxiety from the way they idly pick at the skin on his knuckles, or to catch onto their subtle skittishness from the way his muscles tenses slightly, as if their body is instinctively preparing to flee at the slightest motion. Though, it also notices his genuine attempt at being curious in the way their head tilts slightly towards him, trying to hear it better. And of course, Wes notices that smile; a small, awkward little half smile that holds an earnest friendliness he hasn’t seen in a lot of people, a spark of kindness it finds himself wanting to shield.
“He’s got a cute smile,” Wes thinks before it can stop himself, and it quickly glances down at his notes to hide the embarrassment that flashes on its face in a split second, trying to keep up that cold, bitter demeanour he’d forged to protect itself.
Remembering he has to actually answer the strange man’s question, it adjusts his glasses as it replies in a calm voice, “No thank you. I don’t want to give you my name.”
Wes swallows, inhaling as he braces itself for the usual responses his refusal receives; confusion, irritation, and even anger that it doesn’t want to give something as simple as a name.
“Oh,” The brown haired stranger comments after a long pause, “Well… I’m See. Just See.”
Wes blinks, surprised by how nonchalant this “See” individual seems to be. Sure, it can still pick up on their confusion without even looking at him, based on how experienced he is with this very same conversation, but he seems to decide it’s more polite to not pry and just introduces themself instead. See seems to be trying their best to navigate this conversation properly, which Wes can’t help but appreciate.
So, Wes lets the barest trace of a smile show on his face as it replies, “It’s nice to meet you, See.”
Silence follows Wes’ response, an uncomfortable silence both clearly want to fill but don’t know how to. Wes takes the time to flip to an empty page in his notebook, before writing See’s name at the top of the lined page in all-caps, taking note of anything that could be important to its private investigations. See doesn’t seem like someone that’d be relevant to his search, but it still likes to keep notes on any interesting people he meets in case it can get that one step closer to reuniting with his brother again. It’s so, so close, he can feel it, it just needs to find that one more clue, find one more thread to tie together, it always got Ridley out of messes, he HAS to—
“…why, uh, why don’t you want me to know your name?” See asks, jarring Wes from its thoughts. A feeble attempt to make conversation, to break the tense silence that had settled between them.
Wes sighs, trying to remind himself that people have perfectly benign reasons to want to know that and it shouldn’t lash out at the stranger immediately unless he’s got a good gauge on their motives. It glances up at See with a raised eyebrow, and his exhaustion from many sleepless nights causes its tone to be a bit sharper than he intends as it replies, “Because I just don’t want you to.”
The reaction Wes receives is far different from what he’s grown to expect, and it’s surprised by the sudden pang of guilt that stabs at his heart from the sight before it. Instantly, See seems to deflate, the smile on his face that’s (in Wes’ objective opinion) absolutely adorable falters for just a moment, and their face twists with sudden alarm as he quickly stammers, “I’m sorry, I didn’t.. Did I do something wrong? I promise I didn’t mean any harm, I just-”
“No, no it’s fine!” Wes hurriedly interrupts, his expression softening as it tries to reassure the jumpy man that he’s not upset. It rests his notebook down in its lap so he can see See’s face better, clearly concerned by just how panicked they seem. Trying to keep its voice steady and calm, he clarifies, “Look, you didn’t do anything wrong, promise. I just… like my privacy. A lot. So I generally don’t let people know my name.”
“Oh,” See mumbles, the second time he’d done that in the space of this single conversation, and they seem to visibly relax a little from Wes’ reassurances, “Yeah… yeah, that makes sense.”
That small half-smile returns, if slightly more tentative than before, and Wes picks up its notebook again to hide a smile of his own. The silence that follows feels a bit more comfortable, though it doesn’t last long before See hesitantly questions, “So, what can I call you, then? D’you have, like, a nickname?”
“Nobody,” Wes answers matter-of-factly, “Just call me Nobody.”
See nods for a moment, fidgeting with his green flannel shirt as they consider Wes’ words. Taking a deep breath, he remarks, “Well, I mean that, like, sounds a bit strange. Calling you ‘nobody’, I mean.”
“Well, it’s what everyone calls me.”
“That.. sounds kinda rude. I mean, like.. I mean, I don’t think you’re a nobody.”
Wes’ face hardens a little at See’s words, finding them shockingly kind for a stranger it just met. He regards the messy haired man with a little more suspicion, searching their seemingly genuine smile for a flicker of malice, but it can’t seem to find any. He finds it hard to believe it’s an honest statement with no ulterior motive, but from what Wes can tell, it’s apparently just the other man's somewhat awkward attempt to connect to it.
Still, Wes remains guarded as he snaps suddenly, exhaustion making it defensive, “If it’s my name you want, you’re not getting my name out of me by saying that. You know that, right?”
See raises his hands in a placating gesture. “No, no, I just… I thought maybe I could, like, call you something else,” they explain, nervously wringing his hands.
Wes forces himself to take a breath, noticing just how stressed it’s unintentionally making See. Trying to bite back his sarcasm, it asks, “Like what?”
“Like, uh…” See begins, idly twirling a lock of their hair around his finger.
Wes finds himself looking up from its notebook, listening to See intently despite his previous attempts to seem disinterested.
“Oh! Like.. Buddy!” See cheers, a look of sudden delight and pride on their face that feels almost infectious as Wes struggles to keep its composure.
“Buddy?” Wes repeats, trying to adjust to how the word sounds on his lips, “Why?”
See doesn’t seem to mind Wes’ confusion as he explains, “See, it- it’s like ‘Nobody’, except you’re not nobody, and like.. like, ‘body’ and ‘buddy’ sound similar, so…”
They trail off, seemingly worried that his explanation doesn’t make sense. The glow of pride on their face dims, his grin fading as they sigh softly.
“That, uh, sounds stupid when I say it out loud…” See mutters, his nerves quickly returning as they idly pick at his skin.
“I like it,” Wes blurts out without thinking, a tiny smile unknowingly slipping onto its face. “It’s cute.”
“Like you,” he adds in its head, though he makes sure to not admit that out loud.
“Well, you’re-” See starts, before their jaw snaps shut comically quickly, cutting himself off as an embarrassed blush colours their cheeks.
Wes does a double take as it clicks in its mind what exactly See was about to say, and his face warms with a light, subtle blush on its own. He stares down at its notebook, suddenly finding it hard to think of what to say, or even to think at all.
After a long pause, See clears his throat and says, “Well, I’m gonna, er… go.”
“Uh- alright,” Wes replies, cringing inside at just how awkward he sounds, “See you later, See.”
See chuckles a little, assuming Wes’ joke was intentional, even though it very much wasn’t. “Yeah, I, like, guess you will, Buddy,” they comment, giving Wes double finger guns as he nervously walks away.
Wes sighs, feeling oddly giddy as it watches See leave, reflecting on the conversation they just shared. A memory of See’s awkward, friendly little half-smile slips into his mind’s eye, and it feels its heart race slightly as his lips curl into a sappy smile.
Shaking its head to clear his mind, Wes quickly stops itself, silently cursing himself for getting so distracted. Now isn’t the time to reminisce on some guy, it was supposed to be researching right now. He doesn’t deserve to get all lovey-dovey when Ridley is still out there somewhere, if he’s even still—
Wes catches itself before he can finish that thought, swallowing hard to get rid of the sudden lump in its throat. Trying to distract himself, it turns back to his notebook, deciding it might as well start jotting down some information about See that might be useful. He examines the otherwise blank page for a moment, staring at the name of its new acquaintance for a long, long moment.
Sighing, he picks up its pencil to write his first thought down on the nearly empty paper. His pencil hovers over the space next to See’s name, before it impulsively scribbles a small heart next to it.
And then another.
And another.
#see aislin#wesley wilder#indigo's Hatchetfield ocs#hatchetfield oc#hatchetfield#hatchetfield universe#starkid#team starkid#oc writing#oc fanfiction#original character#fandom oc#writing#help what do I tag this
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The Aftermath
[AO3]
Not feeling well enough to write and this has been sitting in my notes for a while, so here ya go. A squeal to Day 4, the pirate/siren AU.
Summary: Grian contemplates the Pirate he rescued and what to do with him.
—————
Grian glares at the unconscious body of the pirate he found, he really has no idea why he even saved him. Pirates are a danger to his kind, he doesn’t know why he’d be different.
The determination and desperation on his face may have been intriguing, but it’s not enough of a reason. Although the stab wound in his back probably did help. He wasn’t just a pirate who fell overboard, but one who was stabbed in the back, quite literally.
He sighs, it’s not like this will go wrong for him. He’ll get his curiosities sated in some way and either gets a meal or a favor from a human. Or both. Depends on how he’s feeling.
Grian watches the human for a moment longer before diving back into the water, he’s hungry and the pirate probably will be too. He swims back through the tunnel and out into open water.
It doesn’t take him long to find a school of fish. He tears into them, quickly devouring up a few and grabbing onto the rest. He quickly makes his way back to the cove swimming through the tunnel and popping his head up through the water.
Grian immediately ducks his head back down, seeing the pirate sitting up and looking around the small cave. He watches for a while, head just barely above the water.
The pirate slowly reaches around his back, pressing against the stab wound. He winces, but doesn’t linger on it, instead trailing his fingers along the makeshift bandaging wrapped around his chest.
It’s not the best job Grian’s done, but it’s the best he could have done at the moment. Considering the limited supplies and the whole drowning thing, not to mention he doesn’t know how human biology works in the slightest.
Grian eats humans, not takes care of them.
The pirate turns around, to look around more, but stiffens when he see Grian, yelping loudly and backing up quickly. Cover now blown, Grian swims to the edge, raising himself more out of the water, “Glad to see you awake.”
He stares at Grian for a moment, “W-who are you?”
“Name’s Grian, I’m the one who saved you.”
“You… saved me?”
Grian huffs, sinking down into the water a little, “You’re alive and no other creature can swim well in those conditions, what do you think?”
“I- I just,” he stammers, still sounding surprised. “I wasn’t expecting to be saved, kinda still adjusting to being alive.”
Grian just stares at him for a long moment before sighing, “Alright, fine. What’s your name then?”
“I’m Scar! The fiercest pirate captain there is!” Just as quickly as his bravado comes, it vanishes, an angry look crossing his face, “Or at least I was.” Bitterness coats his voice, interesting.
“Yeah, quite literally stabbed the back, what’d you do to deserve that?” Grian will have to admit that he wasn’t expecting Scar to be a Captain, but it makes thing more interesting.
“Nothing! I made that crew, I built it from the ground up! They should be grateful.” He glares at a wall, “Just wait until I get my hands on them!”
Grian tilts his head, amused, “And how do you plan on doing that? You’re weaponless, shipless, and in the middle of nowhere.”
Scar blinks at him and seems to ignore the first two points, “Where exactly are we?”
“Under an island, it’s rather small,” he replies, gesturing upwards. “Closest landmass to where I found you.”
“So why am I underground then?” He asks, looking up.
Grian grins and sets his head on his hands, “You can’t escape or hide this way.”
Scar looks down at his words, face paling as his eyes flick to Grian’s mouth. He widens his grin, showing off his teeth more, enjoying Scar’s reaction to realizing how dangerous he is.
Scar swallows, “And you need to do that why…?”
“You intrigue me, I don’t want you to run before I get what I want.”
Scar looks down at the wrappings for a moment before meeting Grian’s eyes again, “Which is what…?”
Grian tilts his head, tapping his fingers against his cheek, “To understand what your deal is first, and then… not sure.”
“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice in this, do I?” he asks, expression slowly shifting to something calculating, hiding his prior expression.
Hm, a mask… He lightly swishes his tail back and forth, “I saved your life, I think you owe me a favor. Besides, you won’t be able to swim out of here, too far for you to hold your breath.”
“Are favors like a siren thing?” Scar asks, eyebrows furrowing. “Like fae with names?”
“Not exactly, but we are selfish creatures, we’ll do anything to get what we want.”
“Like holding me hostage?” He frowns, “Wait, how am I even supposed to get out of here?”
“I got you in here, didn’t I?” Grian replies with a grin. Sure, telling him won’t do anything, but he enjoys having some secrets.
“Right,” he murmurs, leaning his head back against the wall. It seems like Scar understands the game of secrets as well.
Grian grabs the fish he set down and tosses it forward, “Food.”
He looks down and grimaces, “Raw fish?”
“Right, you humans and your pickiness,” Grian scoffs.
“I don’t think it’s picky of me to want cooked food,” Scar counters, seeming ready to argue this.
“Don’t you literally live at sea? How do you not eat fish!?”
“First of all, it’s impractical to be fishing all the time. Secondly, we bring all needed food with us. Everything we have on ship doesn’t need cooking.”
“So no fish?”
Scar stares at them for a minute before sighing, “I’m pretty sure certain parts of fish are poisonous.”
Grian drops his forearms to the ground and sinks down to rest his head on them, “You humans are so lame.”
He makes an offended noise, “I’m not lame.”
“I’m just saying that biologically humans are inferior, I have never met an interesting human before.” He makes a quiet clicking noise in consideration, “The only interesting thing about you humans is your taste.”
Scar’s eyes widen and he presses himself completely against the wall, wincing quietly, “Y-you eat people!?”
“Yeah? Do you know anything about sirens?”
“You’re not exactly acting like one would. From what I know, sirens drown people, not save them from drowning,” Scar replies, still seeming unsettled, but he’s fully focused on this conversation now.
“I’m just bored.”
“So I’m here to entertain your boredom?”
“Basically,” Grian replies with a shrug.
Scar lets out a long breath, tilting his head back again, it makes Grian itch to dive for his throat. He holds himself back. Scar looks down after a few minutes, “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”
“Nah,” he drawls.
Scar sighs, “Alright then.”
Grian places his head on his hand again, “So, pirate captain, huh?”
“Yup. I thought my crew was loyal. If I see my quartermaster’s face again, I’ll-“ he does a strangling motion with his hands and makes a frustrated noise.
“I can help you with that,” Grian offers, mostly because it sounds like it would be fun. He also wouldn’t mind killing pirates. Although it seems like Scar’s crew doesn’t hunt sirens.
Scar blinks at him, “I… can’t tell if you just want to kill people or what.”
He grins, baring his sharp teeth, “That’s the fun in it, no?”
“Normally there’d be a reason why you want to kill someone.”
“I suppose,” Grian answers with a shrug.
Scar frowns suddenly, reaching a hand to his hip, “Where are my weapons!?”
“Don’t worry, they’re somewhere safe. I didn’t want to risk you trying to kill me, but I do intend to return them.” After a moment, Grian adds on, “Although I only got what you had on you. Anything that might have gotten washed away in the storm probably did.”
Scar sighs, “I guess there’s something, at least.” He shifts a little, changing how he’s leaning against the wall, “Would you actually help me get revenge on my former crew?”
Grian makes a clicking noise in consideration again, “Well, from your reaction you don’t seem like the kind of pirates who hunt sirens. But it’s been a while since I sunk a ship, so I wouldn’t mind.”
He makes a distressed noise and opens his mouth to reply, but closes it and lets out a long breath. After a while of silence he speaks again, “I… guess it’s not really my ship anymore. No point really in keeping it if they took it over, pointless when I don’t have a crew anymore.”
Grian drops his head down again, a sense of melancholy washing over him. He doesn’t care much for what humans are up to, but he can’t help but feel bad for Scar. He clearly lost everything he’s ever cared about all at once, it probably isn’t an easy change.
Maybe it would have been better to put him out of his misery. It’s too late to back down now, though, he’s in too deep. Grian definitely started something he can’t stop now. It better be worth it, otherwise he’s just wasting time.
“Probably should let your back heal first,” Grian says after a long silence, “before you do anything.”
Scar just makes a quiet noise in reply, seeming mostly lost in thought.
Grian stares at him for a long moment before backing away from the edge, “I’ll go get different food for you.” He doesn’t waste long going back into the water and swimming away.
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Black Beats Black - 3. Butterfly Weed
Chapter 1.
Chapter 2.
Read on AO3
“Tu es complétement cinglé,” Sirius blurts out as his mind reels through what he just heard from his brother’s mouth, who isn’t impressed by his disbelieved tone. “We need to get magically bonded?” He repeats with a mocking voice that only deepens Regulus’ scoff.
“Do you often think in French? I lost the habit once we got to Hogwarts,” he mentions without caring much about Sirius’ point. “It sounds weird.”
“Pardon ? Mon accent est parfait. Crétin .”
Regulus rolls his eyes and flatly glares at him. “Est-ce que tu vas m’écouter ou m’insulter dans une autre langue que je comprends parfaitement ?”
“No I’m not going to listen to you,” Sirius replies, storming across the room and coming back with the idea to grab him but the word ‘nuptial bond’ hits him again. “ Married ?!”
“There is a perfectly understandable reason for it. And I didn’t say married,” he snaps. “I’m not doing this by pleasure either but it will give us time.”
“Time?! Time for what? To prolong our fucked up family tradition of inbreeding?”
“Incest will never be my thing and neither will this be,” Regulus dryly says with a shrill sigh through his nose. “If you actually remembered the point of Pureblood bonds then you would understand what I’m going at.”
Sirius glares at him and considers swatting him before storming away closer to the fireplace. The room, which perfectly sheltered him over the last days without any worries about intrusion, has allowed Regulus in without Sirius having any say which would not bother him any other time than now. He is happy to see his brother but now he considers holding back Regulus’ visiting rights if it’s to parade in with the decision to get bonded. He rubs his eyes after looking away from the fire.
“Tu es fou.”
“Pour l’amour de Merlin,” Regulus snaps and leaves the bed to walk closer. “Sirius, will you please stop and listen to me? It’s only for the Hanahaki and trust me I wish I didn’t have to take a part of it.”
He snorts with a glance at him. “How so?”
“Think.”
Sirius scowls at him but he doesn’t spare any more attention as he goes to sit in the plush seat, lacking the mirror that was in front of it as it disappeared days ago. He has no complaints about it since he hasn’t been able to stomach his own reflection for a time now.
A sigh scratches its way out before he can think and furious coughs follow the rustling of the petals in his body. It’s painful, clearly noticeable by the way Regulus’ eyes are fixed into him, but he manages. It’s liberating to be able to wheeze without worrying about anyone catching up. In class, especially in Transfiguration where Sirius had the brilliant idea to sit next to Remus as it’s the only class where they aren’t allowed to swap seats for the whole year except if McGonagall deems so. She will never change his seat especially now that Sirius doesn’t chat and dolefully focuses on the lessons now.
He throws handfuls of petals in the fire and wipes his mouth with his thumb. Regulus is either throwing him a distraction to focus on rather than his own thoughts or wants to rile him up on the crazy idea of marriage with his own brother. They have both followed strict education on Pureblood’s culture, heritage and traditions by their parents but Sirius has never cared much for it. Most were long, hypocritical and meaningless, which has never worked well with him. Though he is a romantic and the promise of a true ever-lasting love has always appealed to him - but everything is twisted whenever it’s Pureblood’s affairs.
“The nuptial bond is supposed to enhance feelings, tying the knot over love to never let it die,” he recalls and glances at Regulus to judge his reaction, “but the way to do so is by sealing their fate together meaning that neither spouse can try to escape by any means.”
“Anything that happens to one will happen to the other.”
Sirius widens his eyes as he recalls the warning of ignoring such a bond or finding another love. There is no escape when you are linked to your own jail without bringing your own death.
“A curse would be reciprocated,” Sirius realises as his eyes widen on the composed face of his brother. “Merlin’s balls. You really are insane.”
Regulus shrugs and focuses back on playing with the make-up pencil he found on his seat. “Tradition familial.”
He snorts before properly laughing at the hint of amusement on his brother’s lips at the mention of a family tradition. The only one they are actively keeping up alive, though only recently because apparently the habit is still lurking and just needs the right person around, is speaking French here and there; it’s their family first language despite living in Britain for centuries.
Their parents loved to loudly complain, never anything positive at least, in french in any sort of public setting; if someone understood and talked back then they would swap the situation around by saying it’s a private conversation, though it has rarely happened. Sirius and Regulus only used to speak in French to reply whenever spoken to or between themselves like a secret code. Their parents would obviously understand but Sirius liked the idea of being secretive with Regulus, as much as they could in this pressuring house. It was only the case whenever Kreacher was around to keep an eye on the young heirs but the house-elf probably understood what they said. Regulus could have easily taught him a bit of French if he didn’t already know. These two always played favourites with each other which Sirius always resented.
“Alright so you want to bring back incest up to our days,” he snarks and turns to face him properly with crossed arms. “How is being bonded any help for me? You will only get the Hanahaki.”
“Not exactly,” he argues. “It will try to develop, yes but it won’t manage to.”
“Why not? These nuptial bonds are intense. There is no time difference or strength to be sure that both spouses are affected in the same way.”
“Because the Hanahaki relies on the host’s feelings to grow and develop,” Regulus points out with a nefarious raised eyebrow. “I do not have any feelings for Lupin which will make the Hanahaki helpless to grow in me but the bond will force it to focus on me even with that difficulty. Hopefully it will leave you alone for a while.”
He really thought this through, which surprises Sirius as many implications come to his mind that he can’t deal with at the moment.
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“I am,” Regulus counters with no shame as he leaves his seat. “I will still be affected but it will take time if it ever manages to work on me which gets us more time. As the bond intends to, any curse will develop at the same speed to be sure that both spouses are affected at the same time.”
“I hear you but you are still mad Reggie.”
“Sirius,” he harshly cuts and takes a deep breath. “You don’t have much time. I have been looking through a lot but your curse is definitely evolving too fast for only three weeks and I doubt that I have seen the worst of it when I found you in the toilet.”
There has been worse it’s true but Sirius won’t share about it. If he is honest, Regulus caught him in a very bad time where his thoughts couldn’t stop spiralling. The flowers are delighted whenever he gets too lost in his mind because it always gravitates around Remus. He coughs and turns back near the fire to discard the single flower escaping him with a spit of blood. They have been more frequent, ready to be gifted if you ignore the blood here and there.
The most difficult part is whenever he is in class because he will feel that Remus is just right here. Every single flower tries to reach out, all the time, as if they could figure out a way to embrace him and they might have if he listens to the feeling in his guts which scares him. Sirius doesn’t know if they are only trying to carve a way out or plan to drag Remus in there to snuggle him up forever and ever. He wouldn’t mind but the pain makes it difficult to appear normal and focus on hiding all of this.
He looks sick, dreadfully so, despite the potions he has started to prepare for himself to cover it up. One is perfect to hold back the flowers despite the uncomfortable feeling of his guts being locked up. As long as he can speak it’s alright for class but the sensation are awful and the flowers always try to riot through it. Being kicked out of the Quidditch team turns out to be a blessing because he wouldn’t be able to fly and play with this seal over his lungs - he can perfectly breathe in, though the flowers clog it up and he is starting to feel it. What he is doing is ultimately dangerous; Sirius feels like he is dying every time he leaves classes and runs to this room to cough everything out and he has already lost consciousness more times than he can count for it. Except that it’s better than people figuring out what is happening to him.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Why?”
Sirius sighs, throwing him a pissed look. “Because if you listened to yourself you would realize that it’s mad. You will get the Hanahaki too and if I die from it then you will die too .”
Regulus is getting frustrated by how his eyebrows plummet like thunder. “Which won’t happen. This is to get more time for us to find a solution but you’re already advanced and I’m worried— I fear that time is running out and that I might find the cure when it’s too late. Once I have it, we break the bond without a problem.”
“There is no cure for it-”
“That’s what you think.”
Sirius groans out and strides toward his bed to sit down. “I’m not marrying you.”
“You’re just being difficult,” he scowls and storms to face him. “I never said anything about marrying-”
“Because nuptial bond are not for-”
“La ferme !” Regulus shouts with a strident, exasperated, hiss. “Sirius, this is the only way I could find to get you more time. There is no other option and I’m certain you can understand why too. I wouldn’t do it if I could help it but I doubt you could find someone else willing to do this bond with you right now.”
Prongs would. It comes before his mind can stop it - James’ reaction if he knew and how he might come up with something as crazy as a nuptial bond even if it means getting himself sick to help Sirius.
“Still-”
“Potter? He probably would,” Regulus agrees as if his thoughts were shared. “But I doubt you want him to know about the Hanahaki and the cause of it.”
Sirius glares at him. “He would but I still wouldn’t ask.”
His brother coolly eyes him but the edge flickers to worries and almost softness. “You truly aren’t speaking to him anymore?”
“Why do we care?”
“Not even about your plan to run away?”
He can feel himself throwing all manners and any sort of sympathy he might have had before for his brother.
“Regulus.”
The warning is loud and clear. His brother doesn’t back down despite understanding him perfectly by the slight shift in his posture. Sirius is bitten by guilt right away. His own body is ready to adopt the tense stance that was hammered into them in their youth; proper and tall, everything that screams strength and a strong-will, nothing about softness or understanding.
“I’m only concerned,” he admits and many things go through his mind by how his eyes fly with a surprising sharpness. “I just… I’m here, Sirius… Je suis là pour toi.”
Sirius takes a deep but fragile breath with a shake of his head. “Reggie-”
“I have realised that we were never really brothers, were we?” He recalls without much emotion albeit the frown. “We have the same parents, live in the same house, same lessons, same rules and competitive ambitions. The only moment when we actually came together as somewhat brothers was because we had nothing else but each other. No friends and not any distraction without the risk of our parents sending us back to our rooms, away from their sight to not be bothered.”
“Oh this better not be in your vows at our wedding,” Sirius venomously spits, “just say we are cousins and we probably have the same twisted love of dear precious Walburga and Orion.”
Regulus scoffs. “What I mean is that now I’m choosing to be here and I want— I want to be your brother, Sirius,” he gasps out. “I want us to be real brothers before it’s too late.”
It’s difficult to meet his eyes which leave them both with a stifling silence. Regulus doesn’t waver, which Sirius can’t quite proceed how he manages to do so. He feels utterly broken and all of this leaves him feverish when he hasn’t even spoken.
In a way, it’s true. They are related but to be real brothers, siblings, loving ones, is something entirely different. Sirius would wander to Regulus only when he felt too alone or the current ordeal at home left him alienated and pushed him to hold on to something familiar. They never exactly played together. Regulus liked to read a lot and sometimes Sirius had nothing else to do than the same but preferred to look above his shoulder— now he realises it was to share something even if neither talked or commented on the book.
Sirius clears his throat and shifts on the bed to make a clear space for Regulus to sit down. “Did you realise it before or only now?”
“I wish I did before,” he quietly confesses and joins him without much space between their thighs. “Have you?”
He shrugs and tilts his head as his lips painfully purse. “If I’m honest, not quite. I just never— to me you never needed me and I thought we simply don’t get along. Just like the rest of our family.”
“You’re not wrong. We’re very different.”
Sirius nods, hands gripping and relaxing on the blanket as a thought keeps nudging him. “Pr—James was never your replacement.” Regulus rolls his eyes but he doesn’t take it as an interruption. “You will always be my brother Reggie. I never compared you two.”
“It’s fine,” he says despite not sounding like it.
“No,” he cuts, biting on his bottom lip before relaxing. “You are my brother. James is too but it’s different, it’s— like a soulmate.”
“Soulmate?” Regulus’ nose wrinkles with a glance. “What about..?”
“Not romantically, ew. It’s incest,” he quickly blabbers out to distract the flowers who tingles with the thought of Remus Soulmate . “When we met, I don’t know why but I didn’t need to think? I don’t know if I can make sense of it. But it’s not romantic which also confused me a bit because it’s always supposed to be romantic, isn’t it? We kissed once for a game at the dorm and I couldn’t have been more dead inside-”
“You kissed him?! When you just said how it would be incest ?” Regulus cuts with his voice almost shrilling in incredulity.
Sirius blinks at how traumatising and tragic it seems to be for his brother.
“What? You never kissed a friend for a game? No tongue of course, that would have been disgusting.”
Regulus stares at him with his nose wrinkled as the rest of his face slips into an upset resignation.
“Explain the rest to me. Nothing else disgusting like that.”
Sirius checks if he is making fun of him but his brother looks back at him with a soft intensity, as if eager to hear more. He shifts and rolls his shoulders when there is a twinge there.
“It’s not like we are separated pieces of a puzzle. We’re not the same person either but there is no need to think,” Sirius trails off. “I was scared at first because it was so strange compared to— the other Purebloods around our age we met or you. It was so easy to talk to him and I never had to worry about being just me around him. Sometimes I would get stuck in my head and he would bring me back which he probably noticed. I could blabber and James would understand without making me feel bad about it.”
Regulus takes his time to think his words over, scrutinising him but without any sign whether it’s good or bad. He will probably cut his hair during the break as he likes to keep them not too long; most of the time his ears are free of hair because he is quite ticklish there despite never admitting it. Sirius used to wake him up by tickling them with a feather and Regulus would roll and cry of laughter while begging him to stop.
His hair is perfectly divided but the curls soften the edge, breaking the thorns of their upbringing, and crowning Regulus like a delicate child. Sirius knows enough to not assume that it’s the truth; the familiar spot above his left hip aches just at the thought of how many times his brother pinched, scratched, punched and rudely poked at it during their childhood. Regulus has the same because they are both stubborn and vengeful to target each other at the exact same spot every time. What leaves him more surprised is finding new beauty marks on his brother just on his throat and the neck. Regulus has always got more of them than Sirius.
“I understand.”
Sirius blinks at him. “Really?”
Regulus nods but he doesn’t meet his eyes right away. “Then what about— well.” He stops himself. “It’s better to not think about him.
The flowers dance, scratch, twirl and leech at the mere mention. Tell everything. It should worry Sirius that they can speak now but he pities them - they are as starved of Remus as he is. He coughs and lets them fly out with no concern. Regulus shifts but takes several seconds to vanish.
“Anyhow, now it doesn’t matter how well James and I got along,” Sirius roughly articulates.
Regulus twirls his wand in his palms. “I don’t know why you are surprised when Potter has been shouting everywhere that Lily is his eternal soulmate. All the signs were here that he is cheating on you...”
The somewhat joke doesn’t land right away, which causes Regulus to grow embarrassed and glances away from him before Sirius uncouthly snorts and a wheezy laugh escapes him.
“Yeah, I should have picked one that doesn’t run after the first girl he sees,” he quips and nudges him to reassure him.
Regulus’ lips twitch but doesn’t smile, meeting his eyes for a second before looking at his wand.
“What I meant to say is that, I’m here for you, Sirius,” he declares. “Now and ever, I want to be brothers. We haven’t even finished school and you— you might die .” His tone shakes and Sirius hesitates to reach out, an easy task as they are sitting beside each other but far more difficult than he expected. “Which I won’t let happen but for that I need time. I never thought that you might die.”
His brother’s eyes are heavy with tears. One blink makes a drop cascade and he breathes in loud and pained. Sirius cautiously slips an arm over Regulus’ shoulders and slowly brings them together. There is no fight.
“I don’t want you to get the Hanahaki,” he whispers, letting his face softly fall against their similar but shortened hair. “It feels awful. I-I’m broken and I don’t want you to feel that way.”
“I need you alive.”
“Reg-”
“Please, let me try,” he pleads and fists his shirt with a shaky hand. “It could be late but— I want to try. I will save you and maybe we can be brothers.”
Sirius is deafened by the sobs, increasing in sound and feelings, before he realised he has joined the cry. Regulus is hiding against his shoulder but it isn’t enough to muffle any of it.
It comes so naturally to him that he doesn’t realise it until they are both tired, laying in each other’s arms as Sirius pets Regulus’ hair with puffy eyes and a raw throat. Their faces are shining with tears, starting to dry, but neither move and mention none of it.
Hurting Regulus is still out of the question but Sirius replays everything they have said up until he was found in the toilet. It would be a lie to say that he would have assumed Regulus would have not care one bit about his whereabouts; his brother is more tender and understanding than anyone might assume. Regulus would have cared that Sirius dies but to go as far as trying to save him? He would have never hoped so but now he feels thankful.
Sirius has not much to live for if he is honest and he has realised it now. The least he can do is be there for Regulus. He can be a brother, a real one, for his last days. Regulus made research, tons of it apparently. He also goes out of his way to reach out to Sirius as if they have never ignored each other. It makes him uncomfortable and void of pride that he finds himself earning for it with a childish awe. Like a treat that never crossed your mind and yet feels so important to hang on.
They are tucked together with no difficulties, no questions and no mistrust. He wishes he could hug him tighter, play with his hair and rest his head against his - but it would be weird. Sirius and Regulus barely touched each other if they weren’t annoying or fighting each other. The only times they have been somewhat touchy in a soft way were when either of them rode up and down the many curses their parents chose for their punishment— and often they couldn’t feel the touch until hours passed.
Sirius swallows and his fingertips brush over one of Regulus’ strands of hair. “Who would cast it?”
Regulus clears his throat twice; the second time out of embarrassment as he realises how much of him is laying on Sirius’ chest.
“What?”
“The bond.”
He sits up and quickly rubs his eyes before looking at Sirius. “Evan. The two people bonded can’t cast the spell themselves.”
A scoff escapes him and his brother squints at his grimace. “Rosier?”
“Yes. Or do you want to ask someone else? A professor? A ghost?”
Sirius lightly kicks him and rolls on his stomach with a tired groan. “He is a prick.”
“He is my friend and I trust him.”
“I don’t.”
“You have never met him,” he points out and scowls when Sirius is about to reply. “The Purebloods’ meetings when we were kids don’t count. We were all five years old at best.”
He rolls his eyes. “What tells me that he will not make it worse for me?”
“Evan wouldn’t hurt me. Nor you by extension. He already agreed-”
Sirius stands up with wide eyes. “You told him?!”
“I didn’t say what it is for,” he explains and brushes his hair with a hand to clear his eyes from the few stubborn curls. “He knows that you’re cursed but nothing else.”
Sirius doesn’t care much if someone knows as long as it doesn’t reach the ears of some Gryffindors. The Slytherins might make fun of him but he can deal with it; plus he doubts that Regulus would let it happen.
He rubs his forehead with his hands. “I will think about it.”
Regulus looks at him. “Really?”
A sigh escapes him but he offers a small nod. “I get your point with the bond but it’s still risky.”
“Evan can cancel it at any time.”
“You don’t know how it will react,” Sirius argues and looks at him with a conflict in his eyes. “Have you read of what happens to the Hanahaki with a nuptial bond? Maybe you will be as affected as I am and it won’t slow it down.”
“We need to try,” Regulus insists with a scowl.
“Let me think about it.”
His brother stares at him, exhales quietly as his hands curl up. “Let’s make a deal.”
“What?”
“If we do the bond, as in you at least try it with me without cheating or anything else,” Regulus articulates. “We leave Grimmauld Place together this break.”
Sirius gapes at him but can’t find any sign that his brother is anything but fervent and honest.
“Leave?”
“You heard me, let’s run away together. I have an idea of where we can go and Kreacher can prepare our affairs to hand it to us once we get out of the Hogwarts Express.”
“Kreacher?! What are you even talking about?” Sirius almost shouts as he tries to digest everything. “What brought this on?”
Regulus coolly looks at him. “I’m not as— weak or ignorant as you might think. For some reasons that I still can’t understand, you never seemed to really grow in our home with our parents… I did. And it’s not an excuse. I had no other thoughts or speeches in my head that weren’t about blood-purity, Muggle hatred and for dark arts to be as easy as breathing. To me, there wasn’t anything outside of our home which you have always seemed to know about and I struggled to understand it.”
Most families of Pureblood always said that Sirius is an unruly, feral, ill-mannered child. A little rebel which he has always taken as a compliment but truly he only felt sane and insane at the same time. For the most important gatherings and once their parents lose hope over Sirius behaving himself, they used the Imperius on him so many times that he might as well develop an allergy— what is more important is what people see.
“You clearly didn’t approve of my idea of running away and you have no problem listening and obeying our parents,” he argues, standing up from the bed as he really doesn’t feel like letting Regulus go when he cracked this buried, drowned, chest open. “Did you really think parents who cursed us regularly are simply normal?”
“I figured you need a little bit of pain to be happy about the rest-”
“A little bit?!”
Regulus harshly exhales through his nose and crosses his arms to face him. “I recognize now that our parents are not— nice . You didn’t need to get out of the house to realise it but I did. As a child I thought that you only fought with our parents all the time to have all their attention.”
“What about those wankers of Death Eaters?”
He glares at him. “I do not want to join them. I might not talk back to our parents but that’s because I know it won’t change anything, better stay out of their radar even if I have to listen to their words. I did think they would make the world better, as if our lives aren't all set up already. I realise how wrong all of this is now and especially how hypocritical our so-called Dark Lord is.”
Sirius squints but an uneasiness warily crawls over him. He doesn’t want to push his brother in the spot, especially when they have managed to be somewhat friendly. Plus, he actually has not any real proof that Regulus is following these ideas. At home he is quiet and stays mostly out of everyone’s way but he can play the perfect little Pure-blood whenever it’s necessary. He never openly spit or sneered at anyone who isn’t a Pureblood like Snivellus.
“Really?”
“You do realise that I could literally be the king of every Slytherins if I ever just spoke up? Some are actually waiting on me as if I’m just lazy.”
“You are smarter than that.”
Regulus’ lips twitch into an almost smirk. “I am,” he confirms before wetting his lips with a trace of brooding. “It’s only my second year here that I realised how all of this Pureblood logic and veneration don’t make sense. Mostly because I met Pandora, who is officially a nobody if you follow our rules, but also Dorcas. I hadn’t realised before that no one from Slytherin ever hung out with her because she is a half-blood. It probably took me too much time to realise any of it.”
It’s true that Sirius doesn’t recall Dorcas spending time with any other Slytherins outside from his brother and his little friends. When she got into their Quidditch team, it created a slight scandal up even when they almost won all games ever since she started in third year. She also flew right into Sirius to make him fall off his broom and broke his leg. Pandora being a nobody by ‘their’ rules doesn’t truly remind him of anything specific; she doesn’t even have a family name because she is apparently an orphan.
“That’s all very good,” he replies, feeling immediately silly. “I mean— I know you’re a better person than anyone in our family. I was… I was scared that I love and care about you but that you were as inhuman as they are.”
Regulus’ eyes have softened over his words but they quickly dive to the floor, head shifting for his parted bangs to drift in front of them. His hands awkwardly shuffle upward until they can catch on his sleeves. Sirius recognizes all the signs and only takes a few steps closer, enough to be able to reach for him even if he doesn’t know if it will be welcomed.
“I also..,” he clears his throat. “I only like men. Which I’m sure you know isn’t who Purebloods must shag with to have an heir, despite the many means to have a child even for a couple sharing the same bits.”
Sirius doesn’t quite know how to properly react. His face must be telling something though because Regulus barely meets his eyes and scowls, crossing his arms with the regular twitch of his fingers around his sleeves.
“Putain, tu es gay ?”
“I would rather use queer because I— I’m not going to tell you actually,” he sneers with his pale skin completely turning red.
“Are you kidding?! You need to tell me everything!” Sirius exclaims. “How did you know? Why did you never tell me? Did you think I would be an asshole? That I would have a problem?”
Regulus rolls his eyes with a mocking smirk begging to appear. “Please, have you looked at yourself? Only someone blind wouldn’t see that you’re definitely not heterosexual. And it’s not a good enough reason to talk about myself.”
He snorts, pleased. “I will take this as a compliment. Still, why didn’t you tell it to me before? You knew right away about my-” His words are cut short by rough coughs.
Two flowers crawl their way out, leaving his throat aching as he holds himself onto his knees to wheeze and to retrieve his breath. Regulus tries to soothe him with a hand going back and forth over his back.
“I just never felt like I needed to say it. My friends never asked and they knew.”
Sirius clears his throat, straightening up and whipping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well, I want to know about it. This is huge, Reggie— I mean we can share!”
“Once you’re free from this stupid curse, yes,” he accepts.
“No, no, now ,” he playfully argues. “Don’t you want to make me happy?”
“You’re— fine. But I’m not sharing more.”
“When did you notice it? Do you like someone-”
“I’m answering what I want to,” Regulus warns, stepping back toward the door with an angry step.
“You have to give me something Reggie. You know, lift up my mind and all.”
“You’re insufferable!” He shouts with his face so red Sirius fears it will get stuck like that. “I noticed— someone when I started my first year here and that’s how I realised. That’s all.”
“Who was it?” Regulus’ shoulders almost touch his ears with how tensed up he is. “Don’t tell me it’s someone weird like Snivellus or Gilderoy— Merlin’s balls, is it a professor? Like Dumbledore?”
“Ew, what is wrong with you?!” He exclaims with an intense wrinkle of his nose. “You don’t get to judge me but I can assure that my tastes are completely sane contrary to what seems to be going on in your head.”
“Hey, I just want to help you! Who knows what kind of creep will go after you!”
“Don’t be this kind of brother who doesn’t let me date because he can’t get it through his head that I can make my own choices,” Regulus cautions. “Be the one who either helps me get with the person I— like, or help me make them disappear if they ever hurt me.”
Sirius looks at him before snorting at the ever-severe tone. “Sure, I can do that.”
He smiles. It’s small but it’s everything and Sirius finds himself hoping . “Good,” he says within a whisper that sounds ready to tip to something more raw. “That’s good… Same for you of course. Back to what’s important, please really think about the bond. I really do believe it’s our best hope to find a cure for you and at least we will try.”
“Wait, were you— the running away is a real deal?”
“Just trust me Sirius, alright?” Regulus says. “Will you?”
Sirius wets his lips. This day has been exhausting but worth it. His plans were to stay in bed, try to distract himself. Regulus is the highlight of it, for a long time now which he can’t get enough of, and he wonders how much he has missed over the years.
“I do,” he decides and his brother stares at him with unwavering eyes. “Just let me think about it.”
“Why do you need to think about trying or not to survive?”
He feels like cheating that they are somehow bonding, actually talking, only because he got the Hanahaki. Without it, they might have never given each other a chance and he fears this future. The biggest part of him wishes that he could make Regulus forget about this curse, just to sweeten the deal, to not feel like a burden and an unwanted company. The Marauders would probably help him if they knew. Even Remus might have helped. They are good people. Sirius doesn’t want to throw this pain on them - they deserve the peace.
“Just let me.”
He didn't sleep well that night despite the exhaustion. It feels like a bad omen because he wakes in the dead of the night choking, throwing up flowers that could fill up the Great Hall, from a small dream including Remus and perhaps the Quidditch’s locker room with their clothes on the floor. Of course the flowers perked up and swirled up even from his sleep.
It leaves him restless and in pain and for a second Sirius considers distracting himself by reading something but the idea only makes him cough a few more times. He spends the rest of the night mulling everything over, focusing as much as possible on Regulus.
The lack of sleep and the struggle of keeping his mind focused must be obvious, despite the make-up he put on and the potion to hold back the flowers from slipping out. James meets his eyes at some point but doesn’t sign or try to talk to him. He does look conflicted and pained but Sirius knows all about it. Even if James isn’t the one whose secret got out, it was still the Marauders’ and Sirius broke all of it. His little paradise trashed by himself. Remus has needed a lot of time to open up and they all know it but now he might have come back to his old ways and Sirius finds it more punishing than anything else.
“Mister Black, stay behind please.”
McGonagall coolly observes him as the whole class empties. Marlene shoots a look at Sirius, as well as Mary who seems sad and confused, but he keeps his eyes on their professor. No one dares to interrupt and he tries to ignore the light feeling of Remus needing to pass behind him as soon as the lesson has ended. They don’t talk. They don’t look at each other. Sirius feels like he doesn’t exist.
She closes the door with a gracious swish of her wand, eyes not leaving him, before turning to her desk and gestures at him to sit on the chair that she just transfigured for him. There is no other professor that he cares more for and Sirius opts to simply obey, too tired to even try to come up with a smart answer that might make her hold back a laugh.
“I have barely heard you over the last two weeks, which I find incredibly worrying considering what might be going through your mind,” she starts with an imperious eyebrow. “I would have expected one of your tricks again but it has come to my attention that you haven’t come back to the Gryffindor dormitory over these weeks.”
“This sounds like favouritism,” he softly fires back, watching the cup of biscuits near him on her desk. “I hope you’re paid enough Minnie if you look after everyone from Gryffindor like that.”
“I can assure you that I’m gratified enough. You also went from being a troublemaker to staying by yourself without coming back to your dormitory and friends. Where are you spending your nights, Mister Black?”
He bites back on a scowl. Marlene could have easily snitched, especially since he avoided her as much as he can since the last time they talked. She might talk to the Marauders about him or discover the truth and he doesn’t want that.
“Who lied to you? I can give them a word or two for lying to you, Minnie.”
She is thoroughly unimpressed. “The Fat Lady is convinced that you never entered the Gryffindor dorm over almost a month. Your group of misfits is also not up to its usual mischief and I admit I worry about you. Do you sleep at another dormitory?”
Sirius coughs in the crook of his elbow and he feels like he is suffocating. He is really yearning for the toilet in his magical room. “Is it important?” His voice croaks.
“The house-elves have also confirmed that you eat in the kitchen rather than in the Great Hall. You do know that there isn’t a difference in the food.”
“I just feel like being by myself.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he quips back before shrinking in his seat at his insufferable tone. “Sorry…”
Thankfully, she doesn’t appear mad but she takes her time to think over her words. “Sirius, would you like to talk about it? You and your friends still haven’t talked. Is it because of what happened with Mister Snape? We are nearing October and it has been going on since the middle of September.”
Snivellus hasn’t told the truth to her, thankfully but it doesn’t mean he can’t spill it any time. The only thing she knows is that they pulled a prank over him, which Sirius admitted was his idea to clear everyone else, and it ended very dangerously with the Whomping Willow almost squishing Snivellus. He got kicked out of the Quidditch team and some detention with James and Peter as Madam Pomfrey cleared Remus by declaring he was bed-ridden.
There aren’t high hopes that Snivellus might not be a complete wanker to realise how disastrous it would be for Remus if he speaks. He is probably waiting on the right moment or black-mailing them— Sirius needs to figure a way to avoid that. It’s the least he can do.
“I don’t know where I’m sleeping,” he says, opting to direct the attention elsewhere.
McGonagall squints at him and picks one biscuit, silently offering it to him. He refuses.
“What do you mean?”
“A door appeared in one of the corridors, out of nowhere. Of course, I opened it and found a bedroom with a small bathroom.”
Her eyes slightly widen before smiling. “I see. It’s the Room of Requirement. I shouldn’t be surprised at this point.”
Sirius frowns curiously. “What? Do you know about it? I ever heard of it.”
“During my years as a student I stumbled upon it once, yes,” she says. “It’s on the seventh floor, isn’t it? It’s also called the Come and Go Room.”
“Seventh floor, yes,” he replies, surprised. “Is it some kind of Hogwarts’ legend I never heard of?”
None of the Marauders have ever referred to something like it and Remus has gone through several books about the castle to work on their map.
“Not quite. This room only appears to people who really need it. The seventh floor isn’t used much, even outside of classes, which is perhaps why it built itself there. Only people looking for something specific might wander there.”
Sirius’ interest sparks up. “You mean that the magic took life there? It’s incredible! I have seen it shifting before I even think about what I might want or need.”
“Such as?”
“Er, well,” he trails off because she certainly won’t be happy to know that most things he needed came from his own bed from the Gryffindor’s dorm that the Room brought back. “Like a mirror. Or a quill when I lost mine. Anyway, that’s incredible— the amount of magic behind it, becoming sentient and understanding us…”
“It is fascinating,” she agrees with a small kind smile on her face.
He feels himself blushing, not realising that he has been babblering. Magic fascinates him, especially ones that become somewhat alive - evolving into a proper nature by itself without any wizard influence.
“How come no one knows about it?” Even Regulus didn’t.
“Even if you know about this room and went looking for it, its appearance will rarely be for anyone’s amusement. It still needs a specific reason to make itself known.”
“How did you find it?”
Her lips twitch. “I have been going mad over a particular spell and I was looking somewhere to practise quietly. The Room offered me all kinds of target practices and some water when I felt thirsty. I tried to find it later out of curiosity but it never showed again.”
“Uh. Do you reckon it’s born from all the magic going around? All of it concentrated to one point, especially considering how many people’s magic interact-”
McGonagall indulges his theories and fascination, even offering some of her thoughts about how a room such as this one has come to exist and the chance for another to come to life. Sirius finds himself happy and cheery after this. It’s refreshing and his curiosity doesn’t quite settle down after understanding how incredible this room is. Does it have a true form? How far can it change depending on the person?
This is the kind of thing Unspeakables must work with: the raw and wild side of magic - what isn’t tamed and comes from nature and more. It’s what Sirius wants to work with and learn from. Being an Unspeakables is incredibly difficult and dangerous but there is nothing looking quite as satisfying as this. Though now he won’t even reach the end of his studies with all the flowers drowning him from the inside. Remus has told him he could become one, that he has all the skills for when he shared his fear and ambition, but now he lacks time. A few coughs escape him but he ignores her intense eyes.
“Please Sirius, take care of yourself,” McGonagall says after allowing him to go to his next class with a written excuse, “and try to talk to your band of misfits. Trying is often the best first step. And do not think I haven’t noticed your coughing, go check on it with Madam Pomfrey, it’s already been a while and you haven’t stopped.”
“I planned to go, thank you Minnie.”
Sirius has no chance if he goes to Madam Pomfrey to keep the flowers hidden. She will know and perhaps be understanding enough to not tell anyone about it but still, she might try to treat him and too many people will be brought into his business. This reminds him that the full moon is almost here - this year has a bad timing where one full moon happens during the fall break. There is also one in a few days and Sirius is torn apart by the desire to go or not. Remus and Moony are connected, despite what he might say, and their moods tangle together. Neither will be happy to see him.
After a rough coughing and a bouquet of flower floating down the toilet of the Room of Requirement, he wanders to the kitchen to grab something to eat even if the more he munches, swallows and drinks the sicker he feels. The flowers do not like it even though they shouldn’t be in his stomach in the first place. They might have already spread everywhere if he listens to his feelings, sometimes even believing that he can feel the vines digging through his limbs.
Regulus isn’t wrong. It does feel like he is already running out of time and the only few things he has stomached to read promised nothing better comes after. He tries to picture how he would react if someone he knows had the Hanahaki— he would do anything for any of the Marauders and the girls. As well as for Regulus. Sirius would go mad at the picture of seeing him slowly die. The flowers are pretty enough to hide the horror on the inside but they carry their own pain.
Will anyone recognize his corpse once he dies or will he become one with nature? The flowers were at first simple wolfsbanes but now some moonflowers have joined the show. They are all terribly accurate and Sirius has always felt quite obvious about his feelings for Remus but this is even worse. All their petals are pretty and soft to touch, but it might be the poison talking, and vanishing or incendioing them has started to become painful.
Even if they came up from his own inside, they all hold on to some of his blood as if to confirm y es we are from you and you aren’t different from us .
Sirius Black is a sad pathetic almost-a-man who is too selfish to be any good to anyone. He loves these flowers. They destroy a path within him to get out and isn’t that a pretty fight to watch? Sirius would like to think he is the one braving this suffocating mould, crushing weight, to find the same freedom as when he put a foot in the Hogwarts Express the first time.
He accepts the nuptial bond. No matter how crazy it is or the number of times he can see his parents proudly declaring their family motto: Toujours Pur. Always pure of shit for sure. Still, it’s worth getting more time for Regulus and Sirius is convinced that his brother will do far better by getting outside their cursed home - even if it’s through blackmailing himself.
Because Regulus is a year below, they don’t share classes and it’s rare that they cross paths between one. Sirius doesn’t have the map with him which means he can only try to track down Regulus by himself but he figures out he might try his luck in the Great Hall for an early dinner. Thankfully his brother is already eating at the Slytherin’s table with Emmeline Vance.
Their eyes meet. Sirius swallows, gnawing on his left cheek before nodding at him. Regulus pauses, slightly surprised perhaps to no one but him and Vance who glances curiously at their exchange. He returns the sign and focuses back on his meal.
Sirius could actually try his luck at the Gryffindor’s table, anyone outside of his old circle will let him sit down. The girls don’t seem to know what happened but they are without a doubt on Remus’ side, which he is thankful for because he doesn’t need to lose more trust, beside perhaps Marlene who won’t leave Sirius alone. Though she might be more worried about losing her hair-care partner rather than what’s going on.
McGonagall has spotted him and Sirius forces a charming smile as he slips in an isolated seat, clear of anyone, and ignores the slightly surprised look at his return from a few Gryffindor. He doesn’t manage to stomach much but McGonagall is keeping an eye on him. His body can’t handle staying much longer at this spot and jumping at every new face walking through the door but he picked up food here and there before quickly walking out of the Great Hall. Thankfully, he doesn’t cross anyone’s path from the Marauders or the girls as he quickly goes back to the Room of Requirement.
He is surprised when he can see the door forming some time after, quite quickly after he came back actually. It always appears to him, like some kind of promise that he can get out at any moment, but if Sirius doesn’t wish to leave the room then it opens on the wall. Still, he hasn’t found any strange feeling or reason to mistrust the room over time.
Regulus and Evan Rosier come in, the latter with a bemused look as he takes in the room and the door. Sirius is curious to know whether any of his old friends would be allowed inside like Regulus seems to be. It’s only because he is here that Rosier could have come through.
“What is this place?”
“I don’t know,” Regulus answers, watching him observe the room. “It’s probably Godric trying to outdone Salazar because of the Chamber of the Secrets.”
“You found it?” Sirius asks curiously.
“Of course not. Have you tried to find it?”
“Obviously.”
Rosier eyes Sirius. His hair is still as ivory blond as ever and his shoulders are tall and set, almost calling for a fight, but he can easily see that it’s simply the natural stance of any Pureblood breed and trained for power.
“Are you really agreeing to Reg’s crazy idea?”
His brother glares at his friend. “It’s not.”
“It is,” Sirius agrees, “but I’m willing to try.”
Regulus observes him and hopefully can see everything behind his words. Rosier is really not someone he wants to reveal himself to. His father is clearly like their parents though whether he receives the same kind of treatment is a question but he must believe in this old Pureblood supremacy.
“What is your curse?” He asks, crossing his arms as his eyes curiously look at the comfy bedroom settled in there. “And what is this place?”
“It’s called the Room of Requirement.”
“The what?” Regulus frowns at him. “Did you name it?”
“No, though maybe Minnie did. She is the one who told me about it.”
“Really?” He is pleased by the surprise. “What did she say?”
Sirius eyes Rosier and finally leaves his bed to properly greet them. Another large seat appears next to the pair that have never left. He supposes that Rosier won’t be able to find the Room if he has bad intentions. Plus he really wants to believe in Regulus, as a proper brother, and sadly this means also his friends - a tiny bit, maybe. Even if Rosier had been one of these Pureblood children they met over these awful meetings during their childhood, always perfect and never too much flawless.
“They don’t know where it comes from, just that his room will appear and adapt to the person walking in to their desires but only when they greatly need it. It’s more a legend so that must be why it isn’t known.”
Rosier squints at him and examines the room another time. “Well, it’s impressive. What about my first question?”
“Evan,” Regulus warns with a seething glare as he walks to his usual seat.
Sirius really doesn’t feel like hosting Rosier but he forces himself to be friendly— only for his brother. A small table appears in front of him with a seat of teacups and a boiler which starts to gently fume.
“What? I’m only curious to what madness you are throwing yourself into,” he dryly comments and walks up to a seat with a perfect poise. “You don’t seem to realise what you’re asking for.”
“We already talked about it,” he hisses back and to Sirius’ surprise seems actually bothered by his friend’s questions. “Stop it.”
“I have the Hanahaki.”
Regulus gapes at Sirius before taking in Rosier’s shell-shocked look. He lost all his humour and teasing. All his decorum is swiped away, for once showing something akin to honesty. Sirius hopes it’s a good sign.
“The Hanahaki?” He parrots. “The flowers? You have that ?”
He scowls, unsure of what it means. Out of them two, Sirius is probably the one most in-touch with his feelings. Rosier grew up like any other Purebloods and his father has always seemed to only care about money - though perhaps his dead mother has influenced him in a good way. He doesn’t know the whole story about the Rosiers.
“Yes.”
Rosier frowns at him for a few seconds. “Is it Lu-”
“Don’t!” Regulus cuts but Sirius coughs up flowers anyway.
Our love! Sirius puts a hand over his chest with an angry hiss in his mind at how the flowers start to swoon as if they are the same. Regulus frowns worriedly at him.
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” He painfully articulates and Rosier is almost sorry by the look of it. “You don’t even know me but it’s obvious— do you see why I don’t want anyone to know? Anyone at Gryffindors will immediately put it together at the smallest doubt.”
Rosier nods and purses his lips. “How do you even hide it? If you were missing all the classes it would have been known by now.”
“I brewed a potion to hold them back,” he explains and sits down on the last seat available. “Air passes through, as much as it can since the flowers clog my lungs.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Regulus complains with a glare. “It’s incredibly dangerous. What are the ingr-”
“I just need to empty my lungs once I get some free time and that’s all. And you are crazier than me, you want this to happen to you.”
“Only because it will actually help you! It won’t affect me in the same way.”
“You don’t know that Reggie.”
“Actually,” Rosier speaks up to Sirius’ annoyance. “I think Reg’s theory might be right. The Hanahaki needs feelings to live on but it doesn’t cause them, which means that it will grow with nothing to feed on. Hence not growing.”
“Exactly.”
“Still,” Sirius interrupts with a glare at them two. “You don’t know this exactly. The nuptial bonds are smart and made for this kind of tangled cursed fate.”
“Well if I end up to your point then we can break it,” Regulus offers. “If I cough full flowers, Evan will break it.”
“But what if you really catch it? You don’t know whether the flowers can latch onto some of your feelings.”
“It needs to be unrequited,” Rosier reminds and must feel like they are merely theorising because he is quickly abashed with a quick glance at Sirius before looking down. “Well in this case you don’t have the same feelings for— him .”
“Merlin, no.”
Sirius tries to swallow his coughs but it doesn’t properly work. Thankfully neither comment even if Rosier seems uncomfortable. Perhaps he is pitying him or actually thought it was a joke of some kind.
“Well, I’m willing to try,” Sirius mumbles just to soothe his brother’s prickly self because his face is still all crunched up.
Rosier eyes him. “Alright… I never casted one before but I was taught how to do it.”
“As long as we never speak about it.”
Regulus scoffs at Sirius. “Do you really think I want to share about this to anyone?”
“You’re literally the one who thought of that! How could you even think of that idea!”
“Because I tried to come up with a way to counter the curse! There are some curses countered with another and-”
“Alright, alright. Let’s do this,” Rosier offers with a polished smile. “Better not lose time, you can’t afford that.”
Sirius scowls. He can afford the time to beat him up if it’s needed but it will probably not please Regulus. The only thing that matters now is his brother. Efforts will be needed but he doesn’t want to lose a second with him. It feels like he reached some kind of heaven to finally be in close proximity to Regulus, especially considering that they have started to clear up things between them. The best thing he can do is to lead Regulus out of their cursed home to help him be the good man he actually is. Also he can’t die without hearing more about Reggie’s little crush from his first year— or maybe still is now.
They need to hold hands for the bond to be made, which is more than awkward, and he can’t decide which pair is sweatier than the other. Regulus’ eyes stay on Rosier and his wand work.
Sirius wants to take everything in: how his hands are slightly smaller but Regulus is still growing, how his skin is slightly paler because the only time he truly goes outside it’s for Quidditch. They are soft but cold and Sirius squeezes them within his. Their fingers are tangled, hands crossed as an infinity symbol and the more Rosier pronounces the incantation - the stronger is the shimmering strand curling around the fourth fingers of their left hands. It seals into almost invisible golden rings.
Rosier and him stare at Regulus but there doesn’t seem to be any reaction. Sirius is sure that the spell worked but he doesn’t feel anything different. He is about to offer the tea that the room brought for them when a rough wheeze slips past his brother’s nostrils.
Within a beat, his hands fought out of Sirius’ and are at his throat as he chokes. Sirius immediately leads him to the bathroom and shouts at Rosier to cancel this stupid bond but Regulus still tries to argue and shoots a furious glare at him before going over the toilet to gags out some petals. Rosier hovers anxiously but Sirius doesn’t let go of Regulus, hoping to soothe some of the pain by rubbing his back.
Just when he believes a few petals is all there is— after all, the Hanahaki can’t have latched right away, right? A whole moonflower falls down the toilet. Just one.
Regulus’ breathing is still a bit erratic and he spits several times after clearing his throat. Rosier stares at him, worried, with a glass of water in his hand. Sirius takes it when gestures at it and offers it to his brother. Sirius realises now that he has quite literally caged Regulus against the toilet and he gingerly leans back to leave him some space as he keeps his hands kneading his back.
“I’m alright,” Regulus articulates after emptying the glass.
“You need to break this off right now ,” Sirius hisses at Rosier. “You said it yourself-”
“No.”
“Shut it Reggie,” he hisses. “You are already coughing! So much about not being affected-”
“The bond replicates ,” he spits. “This means that I will still have some effects because you have them. I’m merely coughing what is already inside you right now. It will probably be only petals from now on.”
“This wasn’t part of the plan!”
“Do you see me coughing anything else?! The Hanahaki just realised there is another body now. And I said when I cough flowers , as in more than one.”
Sirius’ jaws are grinding. “I don’t like this.”
“You promised to try, Sirius. You promised.”
Rosier is clearly uncomfortable about it and Sirius sighs because he doubts that he will break the bond if Regulus doesn’t say so.
“Stay here tonight, I want to keep an eye on you.”
Regulus doesn’t disagree, thankfully as Sirius is in no shape to really argue. His brother tells Rosier that he can come up with an excuse for Crouch Jr., who has probably realised that he has been distracted by the rest of their friends to not notice them two missing - Sirius isn’t going to ask what it means.
They talk between themselves, which he wants to pry on but he doesn’t. Once Rosier leaves, with a surprising ‘I really hope it helps, Sirius’, there is an awkward silence. The Room doesn’t bring another bed into existence or a different side of space like the first time they came in here.
Sirius’ bed is larger than a simple one so they can easily fit in it together. He offers Regulus to shower first as he still needs to drop by the kitchen to have some dinner.
“Bring me back something please,” Regulus asks.
“Something sweet or salty?”
He pauses before closing the door of the bathroom. “Sweet.”
“Alright.”
It’s their last words for the night. Regulus goes through one of Sirius’ essays that he needs to hand out in two days while he eats several biscuits. When his brother coughs, they both freeze but they don’t point it out. Sirius does too but his are rawer. His brother might only have a sore throat if you didn’t know what they did. They must be quite the pair.
They lay without a word as they try to sleep. There is enough space just like he thought and Sirius hopes he doesn’t move too much during the night or have another awful dream. He likes to have his space, knowing well that it makes him sound like an arrogant child, but he enjoys being nested in some comfortable space without worrying about falling; though he could also just sleep on the floor if he has enough comfortable items, frankly he isn’t that picky. He coughs too hard to stay on his back so he turns on his side to let it out. Regulus reaches out. They fall asleep hugging and tucked against each other.
It has never been in their habits. The only comfort they would offer or take from each other at Grimmauld Place is when either was at the end of their parents’ wrath or boredom. Neither were really conscious or feeling it but it’s probably why they even dared to do it. Their parents never mentioned it or noticed it; a blessing.
Sirius feels like he is a complete fraud. Regulus cares and reaches out only because he is going to die. If he wasn’t cursed, they wouldn’t be in this situation. He doesn’t say it because he is selfish. This small slice of happiness is bitter but it’s the only thing holding him back from running as far away as possible and dying out of sight, out of mind.
Regulus doesn’t have another coughing fit, though it sounds like he has a persistent tickle in his throat, and Sirius only sees him whenever they cross paths or when he comes by to spend time with Sirius before curfew. Which is almost every day but he keeps his comments to himself.
What does really change is that Rosier, or his brother, really did spill about the Hanahaki to the rest of their little group. He can feel too many eyes watching him. Pandora, Regulus’ Ravenclaw friend and who might be the only one who can be all touchy-feelings with him, actually seems to be hunting Sirius down. He swears she wasn’t here one moment and the next, she is right here.
“Merlin’s-” His curse is held back and the arms tighten around him.
It feels like there is some kind of written rule somewhere that no one is allowed to swear in front of Pandora - like it’s some kind of unforgivable curse.
“Here you go,” Pandora chirps with a smile, letting him out of her intense hug.
Sirius is unsure on what to do to deal with her. She seems happy and not pitying, which is the best he can ask for. Except that she still literally jumped on him.
“Erm, hello?”
“I will see you later, Sirius,” she says and leaves with a merry step. “Your hair looks nice today!”
He doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad sign. It leaves him a bit puzzled but he has to go through potion class with a tense and silent James. If only he could just leave school but Regulus will definitely hunt him down - they might not be on the same magical thread but Sirius wouldn’t be surprised that he would use any means to drag him back here.
“How are you?”
Sirius startles at the new voice and glances at Dorcas Meadowes settling at the same table as him. She walked in with the rest of the class and usually Sirius would have come in later than before, but after getting jumped by Pandora he figured he needed to sit down and mull over everything where she couldn't catch him.
“What?”
James, with Peter and Remus, came in with the rest of their classmates and along with everyone they are watching the odd potion partners. Though Remus barely pays attention to them before walking to his usual table. Sirius quickly turns his back to them, trying to ignore the confusion in James’ eyes and the flowers crawling up at a worrying speed. Go see him!! Look at him. Moony Moony Moony MOONY-
“So it’s true,” Meadowes cuts and looks at him with no shame. “You’re coughing.”
Sirius tries to clear his airways because he can’t find words. His glare falls flat with how his eyes watered at the deluge in his lungs.
“What do you want?” He hisses with a burning throat.
“Sorry, do you want to keep your usual partner? I figured you would prefer someone who wants to talk to you.”
The only times Meadowes and him talked were to scream at each other in the middle of Quidditch. She was a mean chaser as in she doesn’t need a beater’s bat to be dangerous because she would ram into people just to steal the quaffle. Sirius admired that up until he broke his leg when they both went flying into one of the watching towers.
“What are you bloody doing?!”
Sirius’ eyes slightly widen at Marlene storming over here. She is definitely pissed about Meadowes giving him attention but by the quick glance, he can recognize some worries about him.
“We are getting ready for class, McKinnon, isn’t that obvious?” Meadowes replies with a know-it-all tone and the smile that sends Marlene’s blood into overspeed.
“Get out,” she warns.
“No.”
Marlene glances at Sirius, outraged, before glaring at her in fury. “ I am partnering with Sirius.”
Mary is waiting for Marlene at their usual table but she looks as surprised at the scene as everyone else in the room. She definitely rushed over without thinking. Meadowes has the decency to check on him before facing her again, lips turned into an insufferable smirk which causes Marlene to blush.
“I reckon you’re both still forbidden from partnering together since the incident in second year.”
Her eyes widen and Sirius also can’t believe that she remembers that. Marlene and him only partnered once for potion, James had been out sick that day, and she jumped on the chance before any Marauders could. People thought they were in love that time because he and Marlene spent a lot of time together, teasing and bickering with each other. Their only partnership for potion ended up with the cauldron exploding, digging into the ceiling to get stuck there, with the room evacuated because of the aggressive fume. Slughorn banned them from working together ever again and put a note about it to all professors.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Marlene curtly asks with her eyes only more scrunched up in frustration.
“I’m attending class, which you’re bothering by the way.”
“Everyone please go to our tables to get ready, we have a lot of work ahead!” Slughorn greets as he walks in. He pauses at his table, taking in who Sirius’ partner is and Marlene. “Well Miss McKinnon please get to your seat please, we need to start.”
“What?”
“Chop, chop.”
Sirius nods at her to go, offering a small smile that he hopes clears all her questions, and she does with a last icy glare at Meadowes. He notices that James had been left with no choice but to sit with Meadowes’ old partner, a shy dark-haired Slytherin. Regulus has mentioned that she has no friends in her year and Sirius doesn’t remember her being caught chatting or having fun with anyone in their shared classes. Her potion partner doesn’t seem to care about the change, even looking rather gratefully at James who greets her politely.
Slughorn starts his class immediately. Sirius’ focus drifts to Meadowes jotting down words before noticing the blush on her cheeks or the quick glance that she stops halfway towards Marlene’s table. He checks on it, taking in Marlene glaring at them and furiously whispering with Mary and Lily who leans away from her table to listen - not that Slughorn would care what she does since she is his favourite.
Meadowes look pretty happy and cheerful but tries to hold most of it back. Sirius can’t be imagining it, right? When she sat here, she seemed friendly but not overall happy up until Marlene rushed to their table to argue with her. He knows for a fact that Marlene gets off from the fights, the arguments, the insults and the slight mockeries. No matter how much she screams and promises vengeance, she always ends up somewhat complimenting and pining for Meadowes and Sirius can totally understand her point.
If he follows his instinct, he might almost believe that Meadowes is in the same situation and antagonise Marlene at every chance just to drink up all her attention and preen under it.
“Merlin’s pants.”
“What?”
Sirius glances at Meadowes, trying to hold back a smile that feels foreign - it’s been so long . He definitely needs to share this to Marlene. At least something good will come out of this weird pairing.
“Nothing,” he replies, “just realised how weird that we are— sitting here. Together.”
She frowns at him before softening with a courteous nod at the ingredients they need to prepare. “Well, I figured you need company… I noticed that something was going on with you.”
“Can’t lie but say that’s weird.”
She snorts. “Let’s say the contrast jumped into my face— plus I know Reg’ cares about you, even before he never talked about you if it’s not to complain.”
“He talks about me?”
Her shrug doesn’t hint at anything specific as she puts the first ingredient in their cauldron. “Insulted you. Now though it’s different, we had to pull the truth out of him if I’m honest but,” she trails off, checking over the heat, before looking at him. “He is getting sick over worrying about you. Actually it is now, ha! Isn’t that right? Weird kind of bonding if you ask me.”
Meadowes knows . All of them probably do but Sirius thought he would have more time. She stares at him, waiting on some kind of answer, but he can’t really think this through. He figured no one would care but then Regulus barreled in and requested to be in this mess. Now his friends? What even for? They can stay at his brother’s side and ignore Sirius; this would make sense.
“He is the one who forced me.”
“And I wasn’t invited to the wedding, very rude.”
Sirius barks out a short laugh before focusing down on their potion, feeling out of place.
“It wasn’t very pretty. We didn’t even get a cake, can you believe that?”
“Major faux-pas, you should divorce this selfish boy.”
“Regulus hid the papers before I could.”
Meadowes chuckles with no shame and shakes slightly her head. They work together with no hitch and even chat about the latest gossip, her current crochet project and Quidditch.
“We should fly sometimes. Me and Em’ try to fly every time we can, even just for fun. Sometimes Reg’ joins us,” she offers. “I know you got kicked out of the team, which is a shame by the way, but with your— condition you might not be able to later.”
Sirius decides to sidestep her last comment. “Em’ as in Emmeline Vance?”
“Yes, the fastest and most skilled flyer I have ever seen.”
He frowns at her. “I never saw her play Quidditch.”
“That’s because of her parents. It’s uncouth or whatever crap that a girl likes to cause some violence. She does everything to please but they still didn’t allow her to play the try-outs.”
The Vance family is without a surprise Pureblood, although a minor one, but he has heard that they worked hard to climb up the ranks. There are mostly good things about them which Sirius considers as bad since Purebloods’ traditions and culture is pure crap.
“But she is at Hogwarts, surely they can’t stop her.”
“I tried to convince her to try her luck many times, believe me. She is planning to wait until she gets out of school to do whatever she wants— that’s something. Anyway, she wouldn’t mind if you join us.”
Sirius is honestly surprised by all the sharing. He would have never pictured any of this, especially not at their first polite talk. Regulus didn’t even talk about his friends that much - though it’s probably because he is more worried about Sirius’ health.
“I will think about it, thanks.”
She smiles at him and he returns it. It must be weird for everyone else who observes them and Sirius can picture many eyes on them just for the fact they are polite and not at each other’s throats. Remus probably doesn’t care. Too fed up with him.
He coughs and Meadowes frowns at him but he signs that he is fine. Considering that it’s a full-moon tonight, Sirius is barely suffering compared to Remus.
Nothing has changed except that Regulus coughs here and there, throat gritting, and that a group of Slytherins have elected to come to his room as if they have always been friends. At first it’s strange and almost everyone is uncomfortable. Yet they still follow Regulus and have opted to be intensely friendly to him.
Sirius has taken the habit to play with the light to see the faint gold ring mirroring Regulus’. He doesn’t feel anything from it, thankfully the nuptial bond doesn’t include feelings, but he somehow likes the sight of it - of having Regulus near him one way or another. His brother notices this small habit and takes it badly by the glare he throws at him; Sirius naturally responds to the same tone by staring daggers right back at him and they both get lost into a competitive stare-down.
“Have you thought of killing him?”
Regulus’ focus snaps on Barty. Sirius needs another second before understanding what he just said. This one is the craziest out of the Slytherin’s bunch and for Merlin’s and Morgana’s lives, he can not understand whether he really is mad or plays the part to trick people.
“Barty,” Evan mutters but keeps his eyes on his book.
“I’m just wondering.”
Sirius swallows the tingling but the flowers push their way through. Bastard. Kill him. HIM. Barty looks at him and the petals with a fascinated glint even after he vanishes them.
“That’s a terrible idea,” Regulus replies.
“Did you really say that?” Sirius blurts out.
Barty barely blinks at Sirius’ glare and shrugs. “I’m just curious if the curse would consider it unrequited.”
Dorcas kicks him off the couch, gift of the room, but he saves himself from the fall. None of them truly came upfront about Sirius’ situation but they don’t hide that they know it. It’s a strange mix.
“It would,” Regulus quietly answers, returning back to his book.
“Barty, can you imagine yourself if the love of your life was dead?” Pandora wonders, playing with her wand as she throws random ingredients into her cauldron.
The Room of Requirement has accepted them only when Regulus walked first but now most of them have managed to come in how they want. Sirius is unsure if he has made the decision of letting them in without realising it or if the Room thought it was what he needed. They are alright but still, they aren’t his friends.
“Oh.”
He glances at Barty who seems immensely troubled and furious at the ceiling. Pandora stares at him with a small smile and Evan turns his back to them all on his seat to continue his book. Emmeline is innocently observing, though something must be going on behind her Pureblood made mask. She has a softness compared to what Sirius used to wear, or Regulus, and Evan’s own facade is full of arrogance and a fake camaraderie to throw people off. He is curious on how her house life must be but they have barely spoken outside their shared interest in painting and drawing.
“Do not talk about it,” Regulus reminds, sitting against the headboard on the bed, facing Sirius who is spread half-way at the end of it.
He closes his eyes. Barty first told Sirius, without even a hello or anything, that it’s a ridiculous way to die. He told - almost sermoned Sirius - that love should have made him stronger if he was smarter. Evan had immediately kicked him in the back of his knees and Dorcas declared he is forbidden from getting desserts for a week. Emmeline kindly told Sirius that Barty struggles to see others’ logic and this might more than often come off as rude but there are genuine questions, sometimes. Sirius still called him a bloody wanker and hexed his nose to sprout curly hair as long as his chest. They made up over a game of chess where Barty asked him what is the craziest prank he ever thought of.
“Yes,” Emmeline says, probably to replace the silence. “It’s a good idea.”
Sirius is curious about what she is painting but doesn’t want to overstep. It’s a bit of a hidden pleasure because he feels a bit deranged that he still likes ancient paintings as they are used a lot by Purebloods. Lily introduced him to tattoos and this has been his focus - though his attempts at putting charms and magic into ink has been put off because of his current problem. It’s not related to any old traditions and this makes him feel better. Still, he is jealous of Emmeline, only a little bit.
“Sirius!”
“Uh, what?” He glances at Pandora in surprise.
“I have a wonderful idea,” she smiles, waving her hand to clear the fume of her potion. “We could help you make a list.”
“A list? What for?”
“At the orphanage, we used to write down things we would like to have, do and so on. The first thing I wrote was to have a twin, which they mocked me for, but I was right.”
Sirius frowns at her, checking on the others’ reactions. Evan looks particularly troubled. To his surprise, he is actually kinder than he would have thought.
“What else did you write?”
“We do need to test you to check if you are a Seer,” Dorcas advises with a pointed look and Emmeline chuckles. “You can’t have predicted having a twin just like that. A twin , not a sibling.”
“You have a twin?” Sirius asks, flabbergasted
“Yes Evan of course.”
“What?”
“It’s a secret,” he replies with a shifty glance at him. “My father… Well Pandora is more stubborn it seems.”
“You and Pandora?” He repeats, turning to Regulus who mocks him with a raise of his eyebrow. “They are twins?”
“Really Sirius, it’s obvious.”
“I knew it the moment we waited for the Sorting,” Barty preens.
“You. Shut up.”
“Make me.”
“I will,” Meadowes warns, who doesn’t appear to have any patience whenever Barty and Evan get in their regular rows.
“Wait, wait— Pandora is a Rosier too? How come no one talked about it? That’s a huge deal.”
Evan sighs and closes his book. “My father only wanted one heir or at least he only wanted boys. Our mother died not long after giving birth so he was free to put Panda elsewhere.”
“You can call me Panda too Sirius,” she comments with a smile at his incredulous look. “I don’t want the family name though. I just wanted to find my twin and I got lucky.”
“She is a monster,” Regulus mutters behind Sirius who discreetly glances at him.
“You never told me about this. Do you still have that list?” Evan asks, sitting up in his seat as he looks at her.
“I remember it.”
“We can do the rest of it together,” he offers. “Maybe.”
“Oh, I would like to have a child.”
“Well not with me,” Evan dryly replies.
Barty barks a laugh. Emmeline joins and Dorcas smiles but keeps her eyes on her crochet. Regulus has a soft smile on his face and Sirius finds himself copying it without forcing himself.
“This list… Do you mean a bucket list?” His brother suddenly speaks up, eyes flying away from his book to look at her.
“Yes. I find it inspiring,” Pandora confirms and meets Sirius’ eyes. “Maybe it will help you too. Distract you.”
They don’t look at him but he doesn’t need that to feel that they are all waiting on his answer. Though Barty has no manners and stares at him openly like he is a curious puzzle.
“Of things I want to do before I die?” His voice sounds awfully flat.
“If,” Regulus hisses. “If you die…”
“You won’t die,” Pandora confirms and this weirdly feels like set in stone.
“Beat up my father,” Barty declares. “That’s what I need to do before I die.”
Sirius is out of their stories but it has been quite easy to put their dynamics together. Barty hates his father to no end, though it’s the same for almost all of them except for Dorcas. She acts a bit like the mature figure for them, not only because she is a year older than them like Sirius, but she isn’t too serious either - she really cares about them and more than often manages to know where it goes before they reach that point. Overall, they are all more or less broody but Pandora sweetens the deal with an endless positivity that can match with Barty’s— merry craziness . Emmeline is the most calm but she must enjoy the show because she never tries to stop them despite Dorcas calling her to do so; more than often she offers an input that only worsen their ideas and bickerings but without throwing herself on the stop.
He likes them to his surprise. Which is a relief as they are Regulus’ friends and he can almost consider them worthy enough to be around his little brother.
“There is nothing I really think of,” he says after thinking of Pandora’s idea. Maybe spend time with Marlene or if he is hopeful enough, to apologise and make up with Remus.
Regulus stares at him as he coughs and throws the couple of flowers on a bin next to the bed.
“Maybe travel? Over the break you should travel, go see everything that you can think of.”
“The North Pole!”
“Whatever for? Is there even something up there?” Dorcas asks Pandora.
“We will discover that.”
Sirius snorts. “That’s something.”
“Also hugs,” she says. “Tons of hugs. You need them.”
“Alright, alright.”
Pandora gives him daily hugs, at least five, and Sirius has stopped being surprised by them and to return them. It makes him think of James but he accepts them nevertheless. A lot of people have started to give them weird looks about it - especially since Pandora just walks, grabs him for long seconds, before walking away.
“From Reggie too.”
His brother doesn’t twitch but quickly glances away when Sirius looks at him. He has slept over two other times after the first one and they always wake up hugging. Whoever wakes up first always pets the other’s hair but they never speak about it. Sirius doubts Regulus would even be comfortable to talk about it.
“Your favourite meal,” Dorcas offers. “I would like to eat my favourite dishes all the time if I was in your spot.”
“That’s a good idea,” Sirius realises.
“Easy. Pasta with mushroom cream,” Regulus replies. “It’s your favourite.”
“Oh. Erm…”
He blinks at his brother. It’s such a distant memory that Sirius wouldn’t have thought about it. Digging through his memories has never been his strength, not that he tried much since it only gives him nightmares.
“Kreacher only prepared it once but you ate at least three full plates because you loved it so much. Then you threw up because of the amount you ate without barely breathing.”
Barty’s laugh is purely to mock him and Dorcas snorts with a bemused look at Sirius.
“I was 6.”
“It was really good,” Regulus admits. “Though we never had it again because of that.”
“That should be easy to make,” Evan muses.
“Maybe we could ask the elves.”
Sirius can’t help but show his surprise at how fast they follow this idea. He does remember the dish and it makes me hungry just thinking about it - even begging Kreacher several times to prepare it again but it never happened. Except that it’s not quite his favourite meal nowadays, close to, but it’s probably only because he never ate it again.
“It’s hum, well one of my favourites,” he mumbles out. Regulus’ eyes widen at him and he can read the uncomfortable betrayal before it’s covered up. Sirius bites his lips together but he doesn’t want to lie to him, not when they have made progress. “I would love to-”
“What is it then?”
He is surprised that his brother is taking this personally. His eyes are back on his book but completely cold and closed-off, like back at Grimmauld Place. Sirius notices that all his friends are quiet.
“Er, khichdi, maybe. But-”
“What is it?”
“Something that James’ mum cooked for us when I stayed there. She has her own recipe I think.”
Regulus doesn’t like the answer but he stays quiet, bringing the book closer to his face. Sirius hesitates to reach out. If he is honest it’s the first thing that jumped to his mind when Dorcas told her idea, but he doubts it will taste the same ever again. Effie won’t cook for Sirius anymore nor requests him to help around the kitchen but be kind and sweet. He has barely spent a week or two there if he counts all the days he went there, spread over all the summers since his first year. The curses for running away were always worth his time there even when James insisted he could just stay.
“The pasta sounds great.”
His brother stays quiet. Barty gets a kick before he can speak up, probably something unhelpful and only pissing off Regulus or Sirius or both.
“Well we can cook both,” Emmeline says. “It will be fun. And you can’t eat the same things over and over or it won’t stay your favourite dish by the time you are cured.”
“Great,” Regulus mutters.
“You should make that list Sirius,” Pandora insists, filling up several vials with what she concocted, “by the way I have these for you.”
She finishes cleaning her spot and everyone suddenly starts to take all their affairs. Barty’s stuff seems to be Evan by how he drifts to his side and bothers him by looking through his bag. He realises that curfew is in a few minutes and his focus shifts to Regulus. By his sullen look, he isn’t open to stay for the night.
“What are they?”
“To help the rash of the flowers. It worked on Reggie so I tried to make something stronger for you, it should also lull them to sleep but not affect you,” she explains as she lines them up on his night table. “It’s better than what you used, they won’t clog you. Though the effect should only last for a few hours…”
“No, no it’s great,” he quickly says. “Thank you. I will drink them for classes.”
She smiles, very pleased, and hugs him with a strong pat on his back. “Good night Sirius.”
Evan and Barty have already left, probably bickering, and Emmeline only finished now to tidy her painting and tools.
“Reggie,” Sirius calls when he catches his brother almost slipping out. “Stay.”
“What?” He scowls even though Sirius’s tone is perfectly friendly.
“Reggie, ne commence pas. Écoute-moi juste une minute.”
Regulus rolls his eyes but stays, letting Pandora kiss his cheek before walking out with the other girls who wish them a good night. He squares his shoulders and throws a disdainful look at him.
“Well?”
“Don’t be mad at me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are, you wanker,” Sirius says and brushes his hair with a hand before sighing. “Come on, you can’t be angry at me because I thought of another meal.”
“I don’t bloody care about that.”
“Then stay.”
Regulus scowls. “Why should I? Do you always need someone to put you to bed or something.”
“I want you to stay with me,” Sirius insists, “please. And you only shut your big mouth when you sleep.”
“Trust me I won’t open it again.”
“Reggie. S’il-te-plaît…”
His brother is surprised at his tone and shifts on his feet as his eyes shift to the floor but Sirius won’t let him go. They are talking, looking at each other, sharing and living - it should be enough but he is selfish.
“I’m not mad at you,” he says.
“Really?”
“Yes,” he articulates and whatever he wants to add is held back.
Sirius softly smiles. “First thing on my list is having sleepovers with you.”
Regulus blushes and slightly kicks his legs as he finally leaves the door to put his bag down. “It’s a stupid one.”
“You can’t judge my list.”
“Yes I can.”
“I want sixteen years worth of sleepovers.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It will be if you get your arse over here,” he replies with a cocky smile as he jumps back on his bed. “Come on. We can’t talk when all your friends keep babbling.”
“You babble as much as them.”
“But what I say is always relevant.”
Regulus finally relaxes, shaking his head at him, and even sheds off his cloak to join him, tucking his legs under himself as he accioes his book over.
“You ate today, have you?”
“Yes, yes,” he groans out. “Geez.”
“I need to check because you’re a stupid prick who needs someone to sleep.”
“You’re mean.”
“Thank you. And you smell so go take a shower.”
Sirius tuts and kicks his shin. Regulus only smiles which makes him grin too. He shifts on his stomach to face him properly.
“When you talked about Pandora being a nobody by our rules,” he starts, “did you mean about this crazy story that she is a Rosier?”
“Yes… Evan did a test to be sure they are related but they keep it to themselves in case their father— well, is a Pureblood.”
“So it’s your little group’s secret?”
Regulus frowns at him. “Yes and you better keep it to yourself.”
“Hey, come on. I like Pandora, I wouldn’t do that to her,” he promises. “I’m still surprised, that’s all.”
“You better.”
His attention stays on his book and Sirius watches him with a small smile before sitting with his legs crossed. He can still see the look on his brother’s face when he corrected him on his favourite meal. Perhaps he should have let him believe that.
It’s difficult. They keep trying though. Sirius would rather know all the truths about Regulus, even if it isn’t what he expected, and he hopes it’s the same for him too.
“Do you want to know my biggest secret?” Sirius whispers with a rising excitement.
Regulus turns a page without looking up. “Anyone knows you’re bent, it’s not so much of a secret. I’m pretty sure some girls are actually into that.”
“You’re so bloody rude Reggie.”
He snorts and glances at him, pausing there. “What? This isn’t it?”
“Nope. But this one you can’t tell your friends about.”
Regulus frowns, only as a manner of thinking and nothing else, before closing his book. He never uses a bookmark.
“I didn’t want them to know— but Barty saw me coughing and he has the bad habit of being here at the right moment,” he explains. “Plus Pandora stared at me and I’m sure she knew but didn’t say so.”
“This one might really be a Seer.”
Regulus nods with a small chuckle. “She must be, yes. So? What’s your secret?”
Sirius spreads his legs. “You promise me you won’t tell anyone? And I really mean it.”
“Yes,” he replies rather mockingly.
“And you need to not let your brain go off.”
“What?” Regulus frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I know you’re brilliant and you might— you might put everything together but you really need to not do it,” Sirius explains and purses his lips.
His brother puts his book on his now night table with a serious look. “Is it about what happened with your friends?”
“You can’t ask questions.”
“Are you serious?”
“Always am-”
“Stop with that joke.”
“Can I just tell you my secret without you starting to pick a fight or always to figure everything out?” Sirius exclaims with a pissed look.
Regulus crosses his arms with his jaw jumping once. “Fine. But just so you know, I’m not always-”
Sirius shifts into Padfoot and this effectively shuts his brother’s mouth. His tail wags by itself before slowing down to a stop as Regulus’ face is completely devoid of any reaction.
He has wondered about telling him that he is an Animagus but he has decided that he is trust-worthy, especially after the last days. Contrary to what he thought, his brother needs a minute before finally reacting with his eyes wide and full of wonder.
“Sirius?”
Padfoot offers a quiet bark before crawling closer to lean against him. He is taller than him considering he is sitting on the bed they are both on. Regulus carefully places his hands on him, first petting his side and back before softly grabbing his face to look straight at him.
“Merlin, are you unregistered?” He asks and chuckles when he is pushed down for Padfoot to rub his face over his. “Urgh, of course you’re stinky.”
Sirius shifts back. “Hey, I’m perfectly clean and I know for a fact I smell great.”
Regulus shakes his head as he fights a small laugh. “Since when are you an animagus?”
“Third year,” he replies before noticing the slight frown on his face. “Don’t think too much about it.”
“Alright, fine,” he mumbles. “Was it difficult?”
“Some ingredients were tricky to get but nothing was impossible. Did you expect that?”
Regulus shakes his head and lays down with his eyes still on him. “No. I never even thought about this.”
“Well, it’s great! It’s worth the torture of keeping that mandrake leaf in your mouth for a month.”
Sirius wouldn’t be surprised if his brother guesses that all the Marauders are animagis, minus one but this isn’t something he must know, and Regulus seems to be deep in his thoughts. It’s risky to tell him but his brother could have gotten rid of him a long time ago by now.
“Would— would you help me to become one?”
He blinks at him. “An animagus?” Regulus answers with a nod, keeping his eyes away from him. They both know that he could do it by himself without a problem so— asking Sirius to help, be here, for him to do it must mean something. “Of course I will help you Reggie. You will love it.”
Regulus gnaws on his smile but his eyes are grinning. Sirius doesn’t hide any of his joy - just the thought that he stayed at his request, that they haven’t stopped talking and now this?
Padfoot comes out right away, throwing all his weight onto Regulus and they scuffle a bit. He is pet and hugged, tail wagging without a break, and he could fall asleep like that. His brother sounds so happy and none of his laughs are held back even though he keeps his face against his fur.
“Oh,” Regulus lets out at some point, fingers softly exploring one of his paws. “This explains this awful nickname they keep calling you— Padfoot .”
With a huff, he licks his under-jaw to irk him off before snuggling his face against his neck. Regulus chuckles and holds him. They never had any animals at home and the dead ones looked freaky. He isn’t surprised that his brother actually loves them, though he is probably a bit more comfortable since Padfoot is still Sirius.
He almost fell asleep and probably would have if his ears weren’t so sensible. Regulus is sobbing against his furry neck and just tightens his arms around him when he tries to move. With this angle, he can’t do much.
“Stay.”
Padfoot stays, snuggles and laps at what he can to comfort his brother the best he can. They wake up in the same position, without getting under the blanket but the Room is kind enough to keep them warm. It’s always a bit weird to wake up in this form, the distance between the wizard and dog is further and thinner. Regulus is still sleeping as he tries to picture his chances if he runs away like this.
Hiding as Padfoot was actually a part of the plan but the flowers have not bothered him all night and he doubts that Remus hasn’t come to his mind at all. He is the most recurrent guest there. Perhaps staying as Padfoot will disconnect him completely and get rid of the Hanahaki.
Sirius is a bit on a high over the next day. They haven’t talked about the crying but they also didn’t fight or run away from each other. Today is a Quidditch day and breakfast has barely finished so people rushed to the field for the upcoming Gryffindor & Slytherin game. Regulus and Dorcas are playing, just like James and Marlene, which should be enough for him to go watch the game but he opted to stay behind. He wouldn’t know where to sit; Moony and Wormtail would properly cheer on Prongs. He still hopes that Gryffindor wins.
“Padfoot!”
He freezes on his spot before turning to find Peter quickly walking toward him. Not quite nervous but he is clearly unsure of what he is doing. His cheeks have red and gold paint and his scarf is in one hand while the other has a letter. Sirius swallows and looks around them. He must be on his way to the Quidditch pitch.
“Wormtail?”
He comes to a stop in front of him. By the slight widening of his eyes, he must realise that Sirius isn’t someone he should talk to at this point.
“Hey… Hey Pads,” he clears his throat and offers a small smile. “You— how are you?”
“Pete’, you should go watch the game.”
His fringe has gotten longer ever since he saw him but it suits him. It almost fully covers his frown.
“We miss you,” Peter declares. “Where are you staying? Sometimes we can’t find you on the map.”
Sirius shifts his jaw before opting to not get his hopes up. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m in class.”
“Sirius…” He sighs and glances at the letter in hand. “Look, what happened is-”
“What do you want Peter?”
“We can’t talk to you if you don’t come back to the dorm-”
“I really don’t think M- Remus wants to talk to me.”
This seems to be the wrong thing to say but it’s the truth. Sirius hasn’t thought otherwise.
Peter clears his throat and stretches out the hand with the letter. “You received this but you aren’t in the Great Hall for breakfast anymore. I took it because the owl seemed desperate… and before anyone else saw it.”
He frowns at it but takes it. Without the Black’s family insignia it means at least it should be safe but he can’t think of who would write to him.
“Er, thanks I suppose.”
“Do you know who it is from?”
Sirius shakes his head. “No.”
Peter pities him with a look. “Listen-”
“Wormtail? We ne-”
MOONY!
The flowers stab him with no mercy, screaming in joy and agony as they climb up. Sirius almost falls but he only takes a step back at the sight of Remus who stopped at the corner when he saw them. He is beautiful, just like always, and a Gryffindor scarf is around his neck which shouldn’t be a mesmerising sight after six years but Sirius can’t help but stare and wish to be tangled right there too.
Remus’ face is set in stone once he takes the whole scene in and the flowers lose their euphoria to go straight into a violent panic and fear.
He is mad! MAD AT US!
“Moony,” Peter realises, eyes quickly flying from one to the other.
BEG! Apologize— anything, please!
Sirius’ gaze is no help and only sweetens the lethal blow when they meet Remus’ amber, thunderous and noble , eyes. He flees. As much as he can through the faintness and the fighting bodies trying to crawl out of his throat. It feels like he is walking rather naturally, if not a bit rushed, but they can easily assume that he is a simple coward running away rather than choking around a sea of poisonous flowers.
GO BACK! TO MOONY!
He can’t breathe nor can see. There is nothing to save his fall and his body keeps breaking around waves of thorns, stems holding on to his guts, with flowers suffocating him in hatred with no mercy. His head thrums but the pain barely reaches him. There is nothing to feel and the relief is mute, completely false and poisonous, but he lets himself be swallowed with no fight.
His body is groggy and left with no strength but he can’t piece enough memories together to know where he is. A nausea rockets through his numbness and his eyes shut close at his attempt to see.
A cold touch helps him breathe. It brushes over his face another time and his eyes blink through the biting haze; Emmeline hovers with a frown until she meets his eyes and offers a slight smile.
“You’re alright,” she promises and her hand cautiously pets his forehead with a small wet towel.
Sirius is not alright despite the relief upon seeing her and the soft contact on his raw skin. He feels like he is bleeding. His throat feels clean which is an odd thought but it’s been a long time since nothing clogged it.
He tries to speak but his mouth gives up before the first sound. The ceiling has an accurate starry sky with a slight dome at the centre of glass. It can only be the Room of Requirement but Sirius has no recollection that he managed to walk far once he escaped Remus. Emmeline helps him sit up with a cautious hand on his shower and puts down the wet tissue to offer a glass of water.
“What—” He articulates after drinking but he still needs to clear his throat. “What happened?”
There is no one else beside them. Emmeline is sitting on a seat beside his bed and her bag lays beside her feet.
“I found you… Gagging,” she explains with a worried frown. “You were lying on the floor and barely breathing with flowers stuck in your mouth. I tried my best at extracting the flowers with Carpe Retractum and brought you here before anyone could find us.”
Sirius closes his eyes and drags his knees against his chest to rest his head. A cough climbs up which he tries to fight but chokes around a wolfsbane which falls on the bed.
“Thanks,” he whispers.
“It’s nothing,” she replies and shifts in her chair but doesn’t move closer. “Does it hurt somewhere?”
His answer is a weak shrug as his whole body throbs in pain and it feels like the flowers completely took control of him. He nails dig into his palms as he tries to wrest away the clear memory of Remus walking on Peter and him. His breathing grows erratic but is cut short by Emmeline softly tugging on one of his arms to force him to look at her.
“Do you want to see one of my paintings?” She blurts out with a slightly panicked look.
Sirius blinks at her. He takes in what she said, how she found him, and his current predicament. She touches him like he might break.
“What?”
Her cheeks get an intense blush and she lets go of him with an embarrassed throaty noise. “I— sorry, I just thought I must distract you…”
His situation can only be caused by one person and she obviously knows it. This time Sirius swallows the cough and forces himself to smile.
“I would love to see a painting of yours.”
Strangely, Emmeline is slightly surprised and grins excitedly before taking her bag to open it. Sirius unclenches his fingers as she looks.
He almost died, didn’t he? A spot on his head toward the left aches and he cautiously touches it to be sure of the bump he pictures. He must have fallen against the floor or a wall, it’s only a vague feeling but he has the proof of it. Remus hasn’t even spoken to him and his eyes haven’t openly showed any emotions but the flowers were livid and crying for attention. Emmeline glances up from a notebook as he coughs. With his wand, he fills up his glass with water again and empties it.
“Who won the game?”
“It only started thirty minutes ago or so,” she says. “But I’m convinced Slytherin will win this time.”
Peter must have found him ten minutes before the game. The letter is on his night table, slightly crumpled from his own hand probably, but at least Emmeline noticed it and brought it too.
“I think you underestimate us,” he replies.
“No. You were a core to your team and without you Potter can’t do as many tricks as before. Both of you worked too well together and I doubt Gryffindor will manage this year because of the sudden change. Perhaps at the beginning of spring they might be up their game, considering whether you return or not.”
“I certainly won’t,” he mutters before frowning at her. “Why weren’t you there to watch the game then? You obviously are into it.”
Emmeline shrugs with a sad smile, glancing to her notebook’s page where she taps her wand on. “I grew tired of watching it, I suppose. It’s different when you know— the feelings when you’re up there.”
They have only flew twice together but Sirius has seen that Dorcas’ words are right: Emmeline is truly brilliant on a broom, especially if you consider that she probably taught herself during her free time - probably with Regulus and Dorcas’ help but it’s still not quite the same training as when you’re on a Quidditch team.
“You’re right,” he agrees. “You should try to join the team, really.”
“You’re too nice,” she insists. “And to be honest, I found you which is more important. Though I didn’t expect that.”
Sirius’ smile dims a bit but she doesn’t point it out. Instead she takes out a small picture from her notebook, revealed by a tap of her wand, and she stands up with a curious look around the room. Thankfully, an easel appeared beside her.
“Oh, thank you Room,” she says with an amused look around, placing her miniature painting on it. “It’s still weird to think we are in something as— conscious.”
“I wonder if it can get lonely,” Sirius comments and watches her charm her painting back to its right size. “You keep all of them in a notebook?”
“I do. I’m not— narcissist I believe but I enjoy looking at them from time to time and like this I don’t get frustrated.”
“It’s brilliant.”
Emmeline smiles and sits back on her seat to let him see her work with no distraction.
“It’s Regulus.”
Sirius is almost jealous. He loves classical paintings and arts, as posh as it makes him, but it brings too many memories of Grimmauld Place and the Purebloods’ nonsensical and ever-oppressing tradition and culture. She doesn’t seem to have any argument about it though and her painting shows her education clearly.
It’s a beautiful scene of a winter forest. Though contrary to what you might expect is the sight of the peaceful rain, drenching the white snow in various spots, and all the snow appears to have settled like a warm blanket a long time ago. It’s still full of colour with shades of greens and a contrast with a bluish sky peeking through the branches and the shadows of the infinite forest. There is a spot though, just hiding behind a group of trees of warm light as if a comfortable fire is running there, perhaps fresh, but it leads your eyes across the exploration of the forest.
“Wait, you said it’s Reggie?”
“I understand why it must be weird for me to say I painted it by looking at Regulus when it’s this,” she trails off.
“Well, it’s really pretty,” Sirius says and feels like he needs to be more convincing because it is an impressive painting. “We might just go through it, just at the other side of a window.” She smiles, pleased, and he returns it. “I just expected a portrait and not a winter forest.”
“Can I tell you my thoughts?”
“Of course.”
“I paint the feeling I have whenever I think of Regulus, how I picture him,” Emmeline explains with a tender look at her work. “He appears like a cold person, only at first of course, but beyond this he is also— unexpected. There is something, you know that you’re not alone despite the first look, yet you won’t know what to expect.”
“I see it,” Sirius blurts out, voice drifting in awe as all the details jump to him. “The snow is perfectly still. The trees side each other without completely obscuring a path but not quite offering one either. It’s— really I’m speechless, it’s lovely. Is this why there is a fire running somewhere there? It doesn’t look wild to me.”
“It isn’t. Reg’ needs time before trusting but once you get through his… Prickliness and upfront coldness then you will find how funny he is or how much he cares despite everything.”
Sirius swallows. He is a part of this everything - the abuse, the competition, the dark arts and the unclear path of their lives with no idea of what freedom even is.
“You’re right,” he answers shallowly.
“The rain is the depth. Snow happens when it’s cold enough but it’s affected by a lot of elements, if it’s too bothered it won’t solidify enough and become rain,” she says with a thoughtful voice. “Reggie… He isn’t the same around everyone. No matter if he isn't a happy person as in he isn’t as loud and optimistic as some of your friends for example. I don’t see it as a flaw, if anything it makes him rather realistic. Too many people forget how rain is important and that we need it from time to time.”
He hasn’t never shared about his enjoyment of art, especially this kind. There is nothing extravagant but it’s realistic, embellished beauty, but one that screams some kind of superiority - money - status. Sirius had hated all the portraits from his family and worse was the experiment to sit still for the painter to work but the sole action of painting always interested him. Even though it felt too posh, arrogant, boring and expected.
Tattoos are fantastic and Sirius can’t get enough but it’s not quite the same. He tries to not stare at some of the paintings at Hogwarts but some of them look fantastic and if he is caught staring, he comes up with an excuse be it any of the Marauders or the girls. He is scared of what it means that he likes something brought up from his ill-advised childhood.
“You’re— talented,” he articulates as tears weigh him down. “Your mind is fantastic. I completely see what you mean. That’s… him. That’s Reggie.”
She is silently surprised. Sirius can’t look away from the painting but he can clearly feel her eyes onto him. Thankfully she stays quiet as he tries to digest everything. There seems to be years of turmoil, confusion and yearning that has never hit him until now. He wants to be the best brother to Regulus, learn what he likes or doesn’t enjoy - who is that person who caught his attention back in first year? Sirius wants him to know everything about himself too.
It doesn’t feel like it will ever be enough. Padfoot was revealed and yet there are so many things Sirius wants to tell him beyond that but he is so afraid that they are running on a flaming spark that will run out any time soon. He finds himself in the middle of frozen water. The ice feels strong underneath him but it shifts at his every whims and they have broken some part of it to reach each other. What if it goes too far? If neither can swim in this endless darkness where they can’t predict if they will ever continue to love each other inside and out?
How come it’s so hard to connect with someone you love?
“Would you mind if I paint you?”
Sirius turns to her, throat gasping around fresh tears, and her eyes brim with small tears but she holds herself strong. One of her hands reaches out to grab one and tightens it with a soft smile.
“Me?” He croaks out, quickly rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Like you did for Reggie?”
“I painted all my friends, yes. But I always ask first.”
He doesn’t cry more but he gasps around mouthful of words that can’t decide in which order they must get out. It might mean that they are friends and somehow it isn’t as weird as he would have thought.
“Sure. I wish I could— Tattoos are what I like to do. But I still love art like yours but it feels wrong. Vile.”
“How so?” Emmeline is only curious by the look of it but it sadly isn’t helpful enough for him to feel confident.
“It’s… That’s what Pureblood does. They drape everything about them and always embellish the lie. All their paintings are about that. Family’s portrait? It’s not a family but the painter will make it appear like it and there is no other proof,” he articulates. “There is a set of rules. Superiority, power, control— be it by magic, money or image. All these paintings are made for this and I feel sick that I wish I could paint beautiful things like this because it will mean I’m using Pureblood's crap.”
She glances at her painting before smiling at him, her hand kindly squeezes his. “Do you find tattoos not beautiful?”
“No they are-”
“Art is used in many ways. I understand what you mean I believe— I paint like this because I like it but it’s my personal tutors who taught me and it’s only because my parents are Pureblood that I had this chance,” she replies. “I find the truth more interesting, as hurtful as it can be. It’s about who is behind the art that defines whether it’s a good one or not. You can use it to spread lies, cultivate Pureblood’s supremacy or— have fun. If you ever paint, it won’t be because you are a Pureblood but because you understand that it can be more than what we were brought to believe in. I paint for myself, not for my parents, or to show that I’m better than everyone else. I started a small secret group last year where we meet up to draw, paint, play music or sculpt and many have no basics but it doesn’t change their passion.”
Sirius blinks at her. He swallows and inhales. “You have a secret group?”
Emmeline blushes, shifting in her chair, before nodding. “It’s not quite a secret. A first year asked me about painting and before I realised it we started to use an empty classroom and more people came by. Dorcas comes to crochet and happens to be a model from time to time. We meet up two times per week… If you ever want to join. No one will care who you are and even less judge you.”
“Er, I do draft often, without realising but I’m not sure.”
“You’re a good person Sirius,” she declares. “Despite everything, I’m sure I barely know the surface of it but you managed to not become as twisted as your parents. I’m sure that if you ever paint, in any shape, it will be wonderful.”
Sirius can only nod, full of embarrassment and a broken satisfaction of all her compliments, but he doesn’t have the capacities to continue this current topic.
“Tattoos were— more common before and often used for magic. I’ve been trying to make something out of it.”
She smiles. “Do you want to show me some of it and your ideas?”
It’s a safe subject, one that he knows all the hidden nooks and every book about it. She quietly listens to all of it. Too many thoughts escape him but he barely realises any of it as she asks questions and whether she can see the one he has on him or not. He doesn’t see the time flying and soon enough dinner comes around.
As she expected, Slytherin won the Quidditch’s game but Regulus doesn’t come by - probably exhausted. It’s alright by Sirius who finds himself too sleepy to even move to grab something to eat. Emmeline left for dinner though she asked him if he still wanted company before.
The full envelope is still waiting for him and he finally opens it after taking a shower. It’s the full-moon tonight which he tries to ignore and thankfully this letter does the perfect job.
Chère Petite Terreur,
Sirius physically can not immediately read the rest of it— not with Dear Little Terror , which has always been the nickname Uncle Alphard used for him because of how many family dinners Sirius disrupted. It makes him happy despite the confusion and he forces himself to read the rest of it.
A pocket watch slipped out from the envelope with the letter, not ticking, but it's his uncle's and he remembers it because of the symbol of the hydra graved in the back of it and inside the pocket watch is an intricate drawing of a serpent circling the whole world. It turns out to be a Portkey that will be working on the Sunday when the Hogwarts Express will drop off students who want to go home for a week before Halloween. Most stay back for only one week but apparently Regulus planned it either way. For any other break their parents will expect them home.
His brother actually has a plan and apparently went ahead with it because their uncle said that he planned everything for them - even legal papers. Sirius reads the letter several times as he struggles to fully picture all of it. Alphard seems excited to have them over and care for them, mentioning how terrifying it must feel to them. They are brave, he says, to run away.
Alphard isn’t quite exiled from the family but he has a different living style than anyone else and he has been left out of most family reunions over time before completely disappearing for almost seven years or so. He is living in France now, in a quiet Muggle place, and the Portkey will bring them to the Portkey station in Paris where he will be waiting for them. They have the option to refuse his invitation. Regulus contacted him first - which Sirius would have never thought of and even less thought that his brother remembers him - and Alphard wanted to also tell Sirius personally on this run-away plan.
Regulus must have contacted him before he even offered the deal to Sirius– which is just so him that he isn’t surprised. His focus shifts to the clock, counting in how many minutes Remus will be walking to the Shrieking Shack with Pomfrey, before shaking his head and reading the letter another time with a hopeful smile.
There are big risks at running away to their uncle and it almost seems far more dangerous than going to the Potters like Sirius had planned. Alphard is like a ghost to them and he believes him when he has written that no one knows where he lives and that once Sirius and Regulus take the Portkey, all the papers to cut their parents’ control and to not have access to their Trace to find them through the Ministry. Their uncle will literally become their legal parent and has apparently planned it with Regulus’ help.
His brother is really a sneaky little liar but it only makes Sirius more proud.
He wants to write a reply right away but his body can’t relax. Despite everything, he can’t stay away. One might think the moon is also pulling Sirius but he knows it’s not true. It’s— Moony . Though this time the flowers are up and ready to make him squirm and he shifts into Padfoot the second he is out of the castle after checking that no one follows him. He hasn’t eaten anything for dinner because of the storm in his guts but he ignores the hunger.
It could be a very bad idea, the worst if the last full-moon hadn’t happened, but Sirius is possessed, running and covering in bushes once he can spot the Shrieking Shack. He is on time to watch Remus and Madam Pomfrey walking in the old house.
He realises as he waits for the rest of the night to unfold that the flowers are subdued when he is as Padfoot. He coughs up several petals but nothing more and the flowers have stopped singing to him. It’s still a bad idea and he doesn’t know what to expect. Moony can easily hate him as much as Remus does except that here they won’t talk and Sirius won’t be able to outrun him.
Once they all became animagis, they have never been separated over all the full-moons that happened during school. Sirius wouldn’t want to break a habit, just in case that Moony needs all of them then— well, Padfoot will be up and ready to join them again. Prongs and Wormtail are perfect to distract and play with Moony so they should be fine. Padfoot finds himself whining at the idea that he might be not needed.
Madam Pomfrey leaves the shack and he can picture James and Peter making their way over here. He could be by their side and he feels like he is - Remus’ cries of pain and the sickening crack of bones and flesh are right beside his ears. Except that he is outside, isolated from the bubble created inside the Shrieking Shack to mute the horror, while Prongs and Wormtail patiently wait for Moony.
Padfoot startles at the sudden crash into a wall. His eyes easily find the figure of a large werewolf barreling through the night like a terror. It’s a very bad moon then— Moony happens to be in a bad temper from time to time but he has never been this aggressive-looking. Prongs and Wormtail immediately run after him.
He has never truly been scared of Moony, if anything he is fascinated and he wishes he had hands sometimes to soothe and touch. It’s probably strange. A werewolf could easily tear him in pieces with minor efforts.
Padfoot needs a second before deciding to follow the Marauders as discreetly as possible. He only means to check on them and if his mistake broke everything they have built with Moony. The previous moon had been peculiar as Prongs and Padfoot kept ignoring each other without the usual cheeriness of running through the woods. Perhaps this is why Moony went off in a very bad mood this time.
His nose easily catches on where they went but he can’t manage to get a good view of them. It seems that Moony wants to run to the end of the earth and Wormtail must be clinging like crazy to Prongs’ coat as they rush through the dark woods. Hopefully Moony tires off soon. Padfoot is finally getting close because the smell intensifies and there are claws marks over some of the trees - one completely destroyed. He jumps on the broken trunk to have a better view. It’s his mistake that he only focuses on only worrying about their possible whereabouts.
A large shadow catches him with no mercy, bringing him down into the dead leaves as Padfoot squeals in surprise at the attack and weight keeping him pinned. Moony breathes right into his face, snarling and crowding his space. Padfoot reacts immediately, tail tucked between his legs and ears bowed as he tries to show that he is no danger to him. It’s the usual act but this time it isn’t enough.
Moony growls at him, paw still digging into him, as he rapidly huffs and smells him. It’s feverish and he can’t read Moony’s eyes if he keeps his gaze down to not challenge him. He hears Prongs stopping right beside them, at a respectful distance despite the anxious stompings, and Wormtail’s panicked squeak. Moony doesn’t give them any attention and Padfoot can’t even try to.
He has no idea what he is looking for. His smell is well-known, probably how Moony knew where to go to catch him, and yet he seems to be looking for something else. A plea cradled into a whine and a tentative wag of his tail finally shakes him off.
Padfoot doesn’t budge when Moony’s tongue splashes him. It’s not rare but still not a habit that Moony ever licks him. They are both canines so they have an easier time understanding each other, compared to Prongs and Wormtail, but Moony shows his affection with small nudges and head-butts. Licks are rare but currently he seems to be trying to groom Padfoot which is very unlikely.
Still, he doesn’t move a muscle and lets Moony decide on where it goes. At least he appears to be in a better mood, even slightly wiggling his butt as if he has a tail, and Prongs appear to have relaxed when he glances at him and Wormtail. Once he is happy with his treatment, Moony pushes Padfoot up to get him to move. He towers over him and keeps him crowded, dragging him back against him with a paw when Padfoot supposes that standing means they should start to walk. Moony keeps him like that for a few beats before letting go.
Wormtail is happy to see him and Prongs greets him with a graceful nose-to-nose contact. Padfoot is ecstatic and he gets lost into that feeling as they start to gallop through the forest. Moony is still in a weird mood and doesn’t let him get any real distance. He snarls and snaps his teeth as a warning, hurrying at his side or grabbing him and dragging him to his side. There is no complaint until Padfoot makes the mistake of not noticing Moony rushing for an unlucky rabbit that he slashes with one big paw.
Usually they manage to stop him from killing any wildlife, and eat them , but they must have been all distracted by Padfoot’s sudden appearance. Prongs immediately tries to push Moony away from the fresh flesh and gets a snarl for it as Moony brings the bleeding rabbit to Padfoot who has been barking in an attempt to distract him.
He doesn’t eat it despite the insistence as Moony even tears it in smaller pieces before nipping frustratingly at Padfoot without truly hurting. His hungry stomach has probably made a noise at some point because this never happened before. Thankfully, Moony lets it go and doesn’t eat the flesh himself.
The dawn comes far too quickly in Padfoot’ opinion and despite the pain starting, Moony whines more at Padfoot not entering the Shrieking Shack as it gets louder the more Prongs pushes him inside. Wormtail only follows when Padfoot jerks his head ahead to follow them. He doesn’t stay.
Remus rarely remembers much of the night outside of the pain so Sirius hopes that this time there isn't much that he can recall either. He only wanted to check on them, on Moony , and he doubts anything good will come of it. Though he can’t help but be happy about the affection thrown at him tonight, especially from Moony himself.
We need to stay! Sooth and nurse him! LOVE HIM.
The flowers are mad. Very much angry at him. Sirius shifts shortly once he is at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. His throat immediately clogs up before he can even properly feel back on his two feet and he almost falls to his knees because of the pressure screaming to get out.
He feels like his throat is bleeding and the flowers have more red hue than the purple and white of the petals. His mind has left somewhere after the second hurl before he can finally recall where he is. It has been more violent than ever and Sirius fears that it’s caused by his Animagus form, perhaps the flowers aren’t able to feed on his love in this form and it caused this violent shock.
“Pads!”
Sirius stands up the best he can, head turning to catch on James and Peter coming from the forest. He is sure they will notice the flowers and the blood he keeps tasting on his lips any moment. They hesitate though. James’ mouth works around unsaid words before closing and Sirius takes his chance to vanish the flowers and rush to the castle.
He doubts that Peter talked about the letter to any of them which is probably a good thing. The only thing left to say was more apologies that Sirius doubts will be any help. At least he eased Moony’s night, even if it might be the last one. Will James even reach out about their old plan for Sirius to come live at the Potters’? It doesn’t seem like it. Even if it happened, he won’t leave Regulus behind. Alphard is still a Black which will be easier to settle with the papers compared to the Potters. Sirius wants to try this with Regulus.
His brother needs to get out before it’s too late and his plan actually sounds great.
“Been on a night stroll?”
He startles and twists around to catch Barty coming out from behind a tapestry. The door of the Room of Requirement already appeared and he was just about to reach for it.
“Merlin’s pants,” he blurts out. “What are you doing here?”
Barty shrugs and walks up to him. “Breakfast won’t be ready until a moment so I walked around.”
Sirius eyes him before opening the door and closing it behind him. It’s still his exact room so Barty doesn’t seem to be looking for anything specific - otherwise it might have appeared.
“And you decided to come here?”
“Mmh,” he answers unhelpfully and clearly looks at him up and down before grinning with all his teeth. “Where were you?”
“I like to watch the sunrise,” he bites out gruffly and looks for his uniform for the day to change after a quick shower.
Barty doesn’t appear to see through his lie but he is clearly searching for something. He can’t see what even though they have become somewhat friends over the few times they hung out. Contrary to Pandora who is a loose card but still quite within reason, Barty is more keen on going to extreme means and Sirius is weirdly curious about his presence here. He is already in his uniform so he must not plan to come back to his dorm and he even drops down his bag on a chair.
Sirius can’t see why he would be looking for him alone and it’s definitely for school. Barty doesn’t seem to be doing any of his homeworks if Evan doesn’t tell him to do them.
“Is it on your list?”
“The list for what I want to die before I die?” Barty nods at his question. “No, not really.”
“Do you have sex on it?”
His eyes widen but Barty shows nothing; not one of embarrassment or amusement, even more terrifying is how intense he seems to be. Sirius swallows and tries to think through this logically despite how tired this day has been for him.
“You’re– you’re not saying what I think you are?”
Barty smiles and finally the familiar glint in his eyes rear itself to catch his attention. “I’ve been just thinking. You won’t be able to do anything once you are sicker and you’re already in bad shape, aren’t you?”
Emmeline certainly wouldn’t have told them what happened to Sirius during the Quidditch match? She can’t have and he is convinced after observing and listening to them that Barty is the type to play all his cards to see people panic. He certainly knows how to keep secrets and to manipulate but with his friends he doesn’t seem to play as much.
“Thinking about me, were you?” Sirius snarks back with a biting smile on his face.
“Your fate gives me a lot of perspective,” he admits, voice dropping to something more serious. “And I wouldn’t want to die without having one last great sex if I’m honest. I figured it would be a waste for you too.”
“A waste?” He can’t help but laugh. “You’re– I can’t say mad because I see your point but still a bit.”
Barty grins and steps closer with a sweep of his tongue over his lips. “Your first choice isn’t possible, is it? And I doubt you will not cough flowers so whoever you might do it with needs to keep the secret.”
Sirius’ heart hammers. It has to be because of the exhaustion and the rush of the day; nothing about one of his brother’s friends proposing to him with no shame and with eyes clearly begging to see what’s under his clothes. He doesn’t push Barty away, even when they are nose to nose.
“You don’t have a weird thing for Reggie, do you?” Sirius whispers. “Because that would really weird me out.”
Barty snickers and his smile is dangerous but quite pretty. Sirius tries to not think of a scar across slightly darker and more bitten lips but his chest thrums with coughs. A hand softly brushes over his arm and brushes the bottom of his jaw before twirling a strand of his long messy hair. The petals are swallowed.
“No. He is pretty but I would rather play with your hair,” he says with a playful tone.
It’s a horrible idea. Clearly. Barty is nothing like Remus, he won’t manage to shut Sirius’ mouth with a witty retort because only Moony can make his knees wobble and his body desperate to dig a way through his warm skin to live beside his heart forever and ever– but Sirius will never get that.
“I will cough,” he warns. “Tons of flowers and blood maybe.”
“Doesn’t make it less beautiful and it will only get worse if there is no cure,” Barty replies and his free hand takes out a vial from his pocket. “But– I have this.”
Sirius frowns. “What is it?”
“Polyjuice potion. Of the one and only person killing you.”
The flowers hurl and scream in indignation. They will never be fooled and Sirius sees red, grabbing it.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wondered if it might help so I made it in s-”
“Is it the only one?” Sirius snarls with his fingers trembling with a raging strength around it. “Crouch. Tell me you didn’t make a bunch of potions over Remus or I will kill you.”
Barty stares at him and starts to look doubtful, almost sorry. “It’s the only one. But think about it, maybe it will work.”
The potion is thrown into the fireplace with no other question. Sirius keeps a hand over his mouth as he tries to calm himself down. Remus can not know about it. It’s insane that Barty even managed to brew this, a successful one probably, and Sirius feels guilty that it only happened because of him .
“We won't talk about this ever again.”
He is a desperate soul. There have been thorough make-outs with a few girls and even a boy but nothing more than touches and tongues. Sirius wants to live in a lie and the more he thinks about it, the higher on his list is an embrace no matter who it might be. He won’t cheat on this though, not when he destroyed everything that he had with Remus be it only friendship or not.
It doesn’t mean that he won’t picture Remus. Nor that he won’t cry along with all the flowers. Barty thankfully doesn’t mind any of it.
#hp marauders#regulus black#jegulus#marauders#starchaser#sirius black#wolfstar#remus lupin#marauders headcanon#james potter#barty crouch junior#barty crouch jr#rosekillers#evan rosier#pandora rosier#marlene mckinnon#dorcas meadowes#dorlene#mary mcdonald#marauders era#emmeline vance#peter pettigrew#star brothers#angst with a happy ending#hanahaki#hanahaki disease#myriadparacosm
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Anything for You
Thomas Shelby x reader
Attention Mentions: Blood. Inuendo to fighting.
What's gonna happen if someone tries Mr. Shelby's Queen? Mr. Shelby's Wife?
Well, Devil help them all?
Cringing at the ridiculous faces that the man has been making toward his wife all night, urges him to ask; “Do you want to fuck my wife, Mr. Oz?” Mr.Oz’s attention is now fully on Thomas for what seems like the first time tonight. Annoyed and bored with the stunned facial expression Mr.Oz is wearing, Thomas grows impatient. “I asked you a question, Mr.Oz. Do you. Want to, fuck. My. wife?”
Quick to get an answer out, he stammers on his words. “N-no, Of course not Mr.Shelby. I’m sorry.” he says. Silent pleas under his words, his hands in a prayer hold.
She can’t help but to wonder, if this man is ok in the head. He comes in here, looks at me all kinds ‘a ways. And wants to apologize when he gets caught??? He knows this man can be crazy and he’s shown him multiple times before. It might not have been directed toward him but he’s seen what Thomas is capable of nonetheless.
“You apologizing for not wanting my wife, huh?” Thomas asks with a chuckle. His hand embracing the glass of Scotch that’s only been sipped once. His fingers gently stroking up and down the glass. Feeling like she’s seen and heard enough; before this turns into a bloodbath- she walks up to Thomas and gifts him with a kiss on the cheek. His hand almost instantly directs to holding her elbow, looking at her wondering what that was for.
“Let it go,” she whispers. “He doesn’t seem too smart. If you don’t, I’m sure someone else is gonna take care of him. Let’s go,” she says.
“Alright,” he replies lowly and a bit gravelly.
“Go ahead, I’ll catch up.” he says, taking a sip of his drink then placing it back down. “Alright,” she says, heading back to where she was sitting, collecting her things. On her way out, Thomas looks at John and jerks his head to her direction.
Catching his silent ordain, he catches up with his sister-in-law. Starting up a conversation with her-he asks; “You alright?”
Nodding and responding with “Yeah, that asshole was being a creep though.” she looks over at him. Who happens to be..smirking?
“What’s that?” she asks, pointing at him a little as they continue walking. “What?” he asks, looking a little amused. “That- that smile. What is that?” she finishes.
Wait a minute.
Stopping her walking, causing him to do the same, he stands before her. “What does that smile really mean?” she asks with purpose to her tone.
“Nothing. Just that, I know what Thomas is gonna do in there.” he answers. With one of his feet hovering above the ground like he’s contemplating on if he should keep walking or not.
Noticing this, she looks him up and down curiously, then continues to walk.
Not missing a beat he’s walking beside her again. “What’s he gonna do?” she asks already having an obvious answer in mind. John snickers putting his hands in his pockets and responding with; “Fuck him up,” Glancing at her to see her reaction, he see barely has one. Only her eyebrows raising and falling back down again. His eyes unconsciously cascade down to her jacket hanging on her forearm, reaching his hand out in front of her. She gives her jacket to him. Once they reach the double doors, she knows better to stay behind and let the men open the door.
~FlashBack~
Upon stepping onto their estate for the first time, she can’t help but to admire the beautiful giant of a home. After being introduced to everyone outside, they gather before going inside. Her head slightly hanging back to get a closer look at the home before her, she can’t help but get excited wondering what the inside looks like. Snapping back to reality, she notices everyone either looking at her, or waiting for her or both. Some would argue that Aunt Pol already looks to be admired by her already.
“Oh, sor-” she begins, but is cut off by Pol.
“Oh don’t worry about that sweets. I still do that sometimes,” she says grinning and reaching for her hand. Showing her to the front door, she points at small details around the doors. Her eyes getting big looking at the intricate designs only fuels her excitement. “Gorgeous,” she says under her breath. Straightening back up as she figures everyone’s ready to go in the house, she steps besides Pol. Three footsteps later and Thomas is in front of the door, glancing at her he asks; “Ready?”
A breathy “Yes,” flowing through her lips, Thomas unexpectedly takes a step back. His left hand outstretched to the door guiding her.
Questionably, she stands in front of the door. Looking back at Thomas, his arms folded behind his back. Not wanting to sound stupid but not wanting to look clueless either, she asks; “What am I supposed to do?” Thomas leans on his toes for a moment then back on his heels. “You don't..open doors?” he interprets.
Not skipping a single beat, she responds; “Not when there’s capable men around, no.”
Not realizing that she just definitely passed a test that the family put together before meeting her. Aunt Pol smiling and trying to stop a burst of laughter. The rest of the ladies are either grinning or cheering for her in their head. John and Aruther look at one another grinning. Thomas brushes a gentle smile on his face as he opens the door. Opening the door for her then stepping aside, he offers her the first steps in the house. Her eyes shimmering as she notices the beautiful chandelier. The smell of liquor and fresh flowers in the room. Along with a hint of cigar smoke that surprisingly doesn’t smell bad or heavy.
Looking below her feet at the pretty carpet, she can’t help but ask “Is the carpet new?”
Aunt Pol jumps on her question with “No, just be adamant about having a clean house, everything’ll look new” she says. Rubbing the small of her back comfortingly. A smile flashed at her, she can’t help but smile sweetly back at her. Leaning in Aunt Pol’s touch gives them both a heart flutter. Pol is glad she can make her new family member- to-be comfortable.
Happy that all she did was greet the family and she can tell she already has someone with an honest heart there. She feels homey in their house.
~Present Time~
Making it through the two ‘entrances, John leads her to the car. Opening the door for her to get in. Getting in the passenger’s seat, he looks back to ensure she’s comfortable. Looking back ahead of him, it doesn’t take 11 seconds to see Thomas strutting on his way out. Looking a little different and almost sweaty.
Getting in the car beside her, he looks over her and asks carefully this time, as his eyes hold hers. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Yes, he’s just weird,” she explains. Looking ahead, chuckling and saying to himself; “he won’t be weird anymore.” She asks “What?” thinking he was talking to her.
“Oh, nothing. You just won’t have to worry about him again.” he says looking back at her. John's shoulders move up and down, the evidence of him stifling his laugh, she laughs a little too. “What?” Thomas asks fighting not to look back at her. But she just looks so damn good, he thinks. “Nothing, I just knew you were gonna do something,” she replies. “For you,” he says smoothly. Not noticing what he said until after the fact, so he opts to continue looking straight ahead. Hoping that embarrassment doesn’t creep up on him. She’s not allowed to think of what he just said as Aruther enters the car. Taking the seat next to her, she sees faint red stains on his knuckles, that seemed to be rinsed off. Looking over at Thomas’s hand, she can almost hardly see anything as one hand is over the other. Narrowing her eyes for a better view- she sees it.
Looking ahead as the car takes off, she thinks of how she has a husband (whether he's arranged or not) who has no problem stepping on men for her or stepping up for her. Proud she has a man that will protect her and the respect she deserves. She can't help but smile- but what's she smiling at the most? You wonder.
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